Ships: Nothing but Mac/Sam this chapter. Some Claire.
Disclaimer: CSI:NY belongs to CBS.
A/N: Fluff. Enjoy!!
Mac let out a sigh of relief as he skillfully maneuvered from Samantha's death grip on his shirt. He knew she rarely slept through any quiet disruptions. He tried many times to sneak out without waking her up, but failed miserably every time. He didn't understand why she slept so lightly, and he didn't understand why she couldn't fall asleep unless some part of her body was touching his.
When he had slowly moved out of the bed, and into the living room, he patted himself on the back. He just did the impossible. But he had noticed Sam turning in her sleep tonight. He didn't know why, but she was having a bad dream. He sat down on her couch, turned the TV on, flipped the volume to mute, and pinched the bridge of his nose. He hated having nightmares. It wasn't always Claire that haunted him, but tonight it was. His dreams rarely had plots. Instead, they were flashes of visions, and voiceovers of thoughts. Claire's face burning. Claire holding a baby. Claire riding a bicycle, Claire giving him a kiss on his cheek. And her voice. Why, Mac? Look at the baby, Mac. Help me, Mac. I love you, Mac. All words that Claire was saying in his dreams. None of it made sense.
He didn't understand why she was coming back into his dreams. She had just gone away a few months ago. Thanks to Sam giving him massages all the time. Was he feeling guilty about being with Sam? Was Claire trying to send him a message?
Tiggins began pawing at his feet, whining, as he rubbed his head into Mac's legs. Mac looked down, and rolled his eyes. He didn't like animals. He never had them growing up. But Sam said that every child needed a dog, and he agreed. Every child did need a dog. So he had gone to the pound to help pick out a little rascal for his girlfriend's nephew.
It was weird for him to say girlfriend. He was 45 now, and he had a girlfriend. He'd be close to sixty before his kids were even born. If Sam even wanted to have his children. He was sure that she was it for him. If she wasn't the one, he didn't know who was. She effortlessly made him laugh, and though they had only one serious fight, she stood her ground. He needed someone that wasn't scared to tell him he was wrong. Because he hated when he was wrong.
But at the same time, she knew when to back off. When it wasn't worth fighting with him, when he just needed someone to give him a kiss after a long day. She knew when he needed her to let it go, when he needed someone to fight with, and when to shut the hell up.
He chuckled at his last thought, as he patted the cushion next to him, an indication to the dog that he was allowed to sit beside him.
Sam did know when to shut the hell up, but she rarely ever did. She knew when Mac wanted her to stop giggling, or crack a joke, but she'd do it one more time to irritate him, and then she'd do it another time to get a giggle out of it for herself. And the third time, he tickled her until she begged him to stop, and he would make a compromise. "If you shut up, I'll stop tickling you," he had said on more than one occasion.
"Deal," she'd giggle. But ten minutes later she'd find a way to quietly irritate him without talking. She had figured out he hated feet. That when she took her socks off, and ran her bare feet on the inside of his bare leg, he would cringe.
Samantha knew how to make him love her, even if she didn't exactly know that's what was happening.
He heard a stir coming from what he knew was Leo's room. It was 6 in the morning, wake up call for the little guy. He stood up, and headed down the hall, past Sam's bedroom, and into the catastrophic mess of Timmy and Leo's shared bedroom. The room was a mess, except the wall that Leo's crib sat on. Sam had kept it clean, but she refused to do Timmy's laundry, and she had taped a box to the floor. If Timmy's possessions crossed it, and she had to move it, it would be thrown away.
"Hi-a Mac!" Leo clapped from his crib. "Mam?"
"Sam is sleeping," Mac sad scooping Leo up from his crib. "Quiet, okay?"
"No, no, talk!" Leo whispered excitedly.
"No, no talk," Mac nodded his head. He glanced at the unmade bed that Timmy usually slept in. He wasn't home. Once again he never came home, and Mac knew the reason why. He was too high. Sam knew it too, though she was scared to admit it to Mac.
"You poop?" Mac asked, sniffing the baby.
"Yes," Leo giggled.
Mac let out a sigh. He had an idea how to change a diaper, but he hadn't done it since his little sister was a baby. He was 11, and he never had to change poop diapers. Mac stopped for a second. Sam was the same age as his baby sister.
He shook the thought as he grabbed a clean diaper, and a box of wipes. "Here's how this works, big guy," Mac whispered, scared Sam would hear them. Mac let the diaper and wipes fall onto Timmy's unmade bed, and then threw Leo up in the air, and let him land on the bed, causing Leo to giggle.
"Gan, Mac!"
"After your diaper," Mac replied. Mac was surprised with Leo. Mac had pulled his jammies off, and undid the diaper, revealing a dirty diaper. But Leo knew what to do. He eagerly lifted his legs up, and held them while Mac reluctantly wiped his butt.
"Done?" Leo asked.
"Yes," Mac replied. Leo plopped his legs down, and even helped Mac fasten the diaper. He stood up, in just his diaper, and clapped his hands.
"Mam dresses."
"She dresses you," Mac confirmed. "Stay on the bed."
"No, no move!"
Mac headed back to Leo's crib, and found an outfit already picked out for day. Thank you babe, Mac thought, grateful Sam had thought to lay out the next days clothes. There was no way he would have been able to find anything in this room if he tried.
"April showers bring May flowers," Sam heard Mac's distinctive voice speaking to someone. She wasn't sure who. She rolled over on her back, clad in a black tank top, and blue soffee shorts. Her alarm clock read 8:34. How had she not heard Leo wake up? How had she not heard Mac climb out of bed to get her nephew?
She heard Leo attempting to repeat what Mac had just explained to him. "Pool shows…. (a bunch of gibberish)….May flowers!" Leo squealed.
"Close enough," Mac sighed, causing Sam to giggle. She figured he'd been trying to teach him how to say it all morning. Leo usually woke up at 6 every day, so she felt bad for sleeping through it.
She found the willpower to climb out of bed, pulled back the comforter, pulled a decent shirt on, and made her way down the hall, and into the kitchen. Mac was cooking something wearing dark blue jeans and a black t-shirt, while Leo stood by his side, tugging on his pants leg.
Leo turned and smiled at Sam. "Mam!" he smiled. "Beck-fast! Mac make-a da bacon."
"You love bacon," Sam smiled.
"I like-a da bacon!" Leo skipped towards her, and skidded to a halt when he reached her leg. "Up Mam!"
Sam picked Leo up, and set him on her hip, heading over to see what Mac had been cooking. She kissed his cheek, and with her free hand, rubbed his back. "Morning," she smiled.
"Happy Mother's day," Mac replied, wrapping his arm around her waist. "I was going to bring it to you in bed."
"Why?" Sam asked, looking up at him.
"Because it's Mother's day," he shrugged. Sam gave him a funny look, confused at what he was getting to. She wasn't a mommy, and she didn't have one to call.
"You don't have to literally be a mother to be appreciated on Mother's day," Mac said, flipping a pancake over. "You're a mother. To Leo, and Timmy. You've sacrificed a lot for them, and I'm giving you breakfast."
Sam nodded her head, and set Leo back on his feet. "Mam, Pool shows May flowers!" Leo shrieked.
"I'm trying to teach him April showers bring May flowers."
Sam nodded her head. "April," she said slowly for Leo to listen. "April."
"'Pril," he repeated.
"Showers."
Leo sat down, struggling to say the word.
"Flower shower," Sam said, messing up his hair.
"Showers!"
"Good job. April showers."
"'Pril showers, May flowers!" Leo said jumping up.
"Good job," Mac said. He turned to smile at Sam. "I've been trying to get him to say that since 7."
"Gotta break it down for him," Sam replied, walking back to the stove. "Need help, honey?"
"Will you relax?" Mac laughed, "I've cooked before."
"You have?"
"Every year I cooked for my mother," he replied. "Claire and I took turns every other night, or really whenever I was off I cooked. Peyton never cooked a damned thing," he chuckled, recalling many nights she'd ask him to take her out to dinner, but instead he would cook.
"Why don't you ever cook for me?" she asked innocently, tilting her head to the side.
"Because you've already cooked by the time I'm home," he told her.
She smiled when he said "home. He called her apartment his home. They rarely went to his apartment anymore, except the rare weekends Timmy had no plans, Mac was off, and they planned to stay out late, which had only happened once since the night Sam had gone to Sullivan's to meet everyone.
"You've been having a lot of weekends off," she observed, wrapping her arms around his waist.
"Maybe I just like you too much to ask for less overtime," he smiled, kissing her nose. "Orange juice or coffee?"
Sam raised her eyebrows as if he was asking her a trick question.
"Okay," he chuckled. "I didn't know if you wanted orange juice with cranberry juice or if you wanted coffee. You change your mind all the time."
"Coffee."
He nodded his head. "Leo wants to take Tiggins for a walk. I told him we could go to the park later. I hope you don't mind. If you do, he'll probably forget I even mentioned it."
"I'll take him," she said. "By the way," she kissed his ear, and let her breath linger on his neck. "Those are my favorite jeans on you."
"They're new," Mac replied. Sam picked Leo up, set him in a chair at the table, and gave him a plate filled with pancakes, bacon, and syrup.
"I like-a da bacon!" Leo shrieked, grabbing his sippy cup.
Sam walked to the coffee maker to pour Mac and her each a cup, while Mac set the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. "Apparently your nephew likes bacon," Mac informed Sam.
"No," Sam giggled. "He like-a da bacon."
"Bacon!" Leo chimed in with a giggle.
"Eat your pancakes too," Sam replied.
Leo picked up a piece of pancake and popped it into his mouth. "Yummy!" he smiled, rubbing his belly.
Sam set her feet into the bathtub, and gently eased her way into the hot water. Mac was putting Leo in his crib for her. She let her head hit the back of the wall, and closed her eyes. Today had gone well. It felt good to be pampered. Mac had cooked her breakfast, and then took Leo and her out for a walk. He put Leo down for his nap, and gave her a massage. When Leo woke up, he took them to the zoo, and bought Leo a stuffed lion. He gave money to Sam to get a pedicure while he took Leo to Toys R Us, and now he was reading Leo a story before he went to bed.
She didn't think that she deserved it. She wasn't a mother. But Mac insisted on giving her a day to herself. He told her it was always good to take a day off. And he'd been right. She felt refreshed since this morning. No worries on her plate. Leo was taken care of, and she didn't have work.
Mac poked his head into the bathroom, and smiled at Sam. "He's down."
Sam nodded her head. "Wanna join me?" she asked, her eyes still closed. After a minute she hadn't heard an answer, so she turned her head and opened her eyes. Mac was folding his clothes, and set them on the counter, before he climbed into the tub. Sam couldn't help but let out a giggle.
"What's so funny?" Mac asked, sitting behind Samantha.
"You're clothes are dirty. But you have to fold them anyway." She pressed her back against his chest, and rested her head under his chin.
Mac ran his fingers along her shoulder, and down her arm.
"Thanks for today," she said.
"Least I could do," Mac whispered. "Leo knows how to shit though," he laughed.
Sam let out a giggle. "How many times?"
"Three."
"Oh my God. He must like you," she laughed.
Mac gently kissed her neck, and ran his hands along her stomach under the water. "You're amazing," he whispered in her ear. "Beautiful." He brushed her hair back, and kissed her jaw. "Smart."
"What do you want?" Sam laughed.
"What do you mean?"
"You're working up for something."
Mack let out a chuckle. "Do you want to go to Chicago with me next weekend?"
"For what?"
"My sister's 34th birthday party."
"She's having a party for her 34th?"
"It's more of a barbecue."
"I need to make sure Timmy will be okay with Lee."
"So that's a yes?"
"If Timmy's okay with Leo."
"Okay."
Sam turned her head towards the door. "Is that your phone or mine?" she asked, sitting up.
"Mine," he sighed. "It's always mine."
"Have fun at work."
Sam scooted up so Mac could get out of the tub. He climbed out, and wrapped a towel around his waist before grabbing his phone from his pocket on the counter. "Detective Taylor," Mac spoke. "How is he? Okay, I'll call Danny and have him come in…I'll be there… what hospital? Thanks Flack."
"Is somebody hurt?" Sam asked.
"A vic survived."
"What happened?"
"That's what I have to find out."
Sam nodded her head. Mac set his hands on the tub, and leaned down to give her a kiss. "I'll be careful," he said, taking the words out of her mouth. She reached up with her hand, and splattered bubbles on his nose. "Thanks," he laughed.
She let out a giggle as he wiped of his face. "Go get dressed. And make sure you lock the door please."
"I smell like lavender," he said, standing upright. She watched him walk out of the bathroom, a smile on her face, before she sunk under the water to wet her hair. She finished her bath, and then drained the tub. Sam sat on her bed, and painted her toenails, and flipped pillows with Mac, his smelled like him. She fell asleep, a sheet wrapped around her body, and her nose in Mac's pillow.
Mac slid back into Samantha's bed at 3 in the morning. He undressed into his sweatpants before crawling under the covers. Sam turned around to face him, her eyes still closed. "That was quick," she mumbled.
"Open and shut." He ran his fingers through her hair. "Are you naked?"
"Mhmm," she nodded her head. "That bother you?" She opened her eyes, and smiled at Mac until she noticed the gauze pad over his left eye. "What happened?"
"Got into a fight with a suspect. Cut my head on some glass."
She gently took the patch off his head, and ran her fingers over the cut. "How many stitches?"
"Nine," he lied, knowing she would freak if he said 15. This was the first time he'd been badly hurt since they were together, and he knew it would wind up in a fight. It always did. The first time Claire had been with him when he was shot in the arm had resulted in a fight. When he had been in a bomb a few years back, though he had only been dating Peyton for about three weeks, she had flipped out. And he knew Sam would be upset if he made it seem as bad as it really was. He was too tired to deal with it right now. He just wanted sleep.
"You're gonna have a nasty headache tomorrow. I'd take some Tylenol now."
"Already did."
"Do you have a concussion?"
He nodded his head.
"Did they give you any medicine to keep you awake? Or for the pain? You can go into a coma if you fall asleep. Did they monitor you?"
He nodded his head, not wanting to tell her he wasn't taking the vicodin they had prescribed.
"Go back to bed, babe," Mac sighed.
She nodded her head, "Next time. A call would be nice. Okay?"
"You aren't upset?"
Sam closed her eyes, and intertwined their hands. "Just relieved it wasn't worse. But I'd like a phone call. It's bad enough to have worried about Danny all these years. I don't like doing it with you too."
Mac let out a sigh of relief. That had gone way better than he expected. "You worry about me?" he asked, after he realized she admitted she worried about him.
"When you don't call me or text me every few hours, and I know you're at work," she admitted.
"Why?"
"Because. I just…I care about you."
Mac set his free hand on Sam's face, and kissed her forehead. "Sam, look at me."
She opened her eyes, and looked him in the eye.
"I'm not planning on going anywhere anytime soon."
"Neither was Louie," she whispered. "Neither was Claire."
Mac closed his eyes, and gently pressed his lips to hers. She was right. "We can't control death," he told her. "Which makes it a rational fear to have. But I'm not scared, and you shouldn't be either."
"I am," she whispered. "I'm not scared to die. I'm scared of what happens to me if you die."
"There is a better chance of me dieing in a car accident than on the job, okay?"
"Says that scar on your eye."
"Just like when you played softball. You got scraped up a bit. This is the same thing. It comes with the territory."
"Okay," she nodded her head, a bit more relaxed.
"Sam," Mac whispered, brushing her hair from her face.
"Mac?"
He let out a deep breath, causing the hair on the back of Sam's neck to stand up. He closed his eyes, took in her coconut lotion, and felt her breath breathing steadily in and out against his face. The same as his breath was doing to her. He opened his eyes, and smiled at her. She was curled in fetal position, one hand between her legs, the other tightly holding onto his. He could see the sparkle in her hazel eyes. They were a bit greener right now, and he noticed they always turned green when they were close like this.
"I ugh," he stopped, and watched her chest move up and down as she breathed, and watched her blink her eyes. "I love you, Samantha," he choked out.
She nodded her head, and smiled after she'd gotten over the initial shock. His voice was shaking, and she saw the fear in his eyes. She kissed his nose, and then his lips, and tugged at the string on his pants. "I think I just might love you too." She rolled on top of him, and pressed her lips against his chest.
"You look good in sheets," he grinned, flipping her on her back.
"And you look good in sweatpants," she smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck. She leaned up and gave him another kiss, a smile on her face. "But you should probably take them off." Mac laughed, but did what he was told.
Thanks to my reviewers! No particular order.
iheartcsinewyork
Blaze709
hope4sall
EastAngels2009
BlueEyedAuthor
A/N: Just a heads up. I've already started the next chapter. It's going to take place in Chicago mostly. The story is probably going to end within the next few chapters. But I'm thinking about a sequel.
