Hey guys! Sorry this has taken so long, but life's been a bit of a bastard at the moment (frankly). This is just a filler chapter, which probably hasn't been written too well. That said, I hope you enjoy my efforts and look forward to the next one.

Chapter 10

Hearing the door click shut behind him, he sat on the chair furthest from the door and took a minute to massage his temples. Feeling the knots begin to loosen under the touch of his fingertips, he released a deep sigh which was, in itself, a form of catharsis.

So much as he tried to be supportive in front of Stella, he was plagued with worry over what she had done. Fundamentally, it was selfish and reckless. But closer to the root, it seemed to Mac that she had absolutely no regard for the consequences her actions would have for herself. For such an intelligent and astute woman, he could only wonder what had come over her in that moment. Why had she abandoned over 10 years of experience with protocol and chased after that boy? Why had she stood up from cover and stood directly in his path?

One thing was clear; she hadn't expected Don to chase after her.

Undoing a particularly tight knot in his temple, he winced at the brief pulsation of pain which shot through his head. He could conclude that Stella was very often a cause of his headaches – but this, on top of the constant pressure from the brass over the past 3 days; this was a new sort of headache.

Usually, a quick smile shot from Stella was the biological equivalent of a rush of dopamine through his mind which could cure any headache. The memory of her smile was sometimes even enough to get him to smirk in response to one of Sinclair's snarky comments or to shrug off Gerard's apparent disdain towards him. She was particularly helpful during the Dobson investigation, and dare he say it, more so than Peyton could have ever been.

It wasn't that Peyton didn't try – no, he tried much harder than he ever could have expected her to. But Stella had more experience as a police officer than Mac did. He was a marine first, a cop and then a scientist. But 'To Serve and Protect' was an oath that Stella had lived and breathed since she left college. It was in the way she walked and wrote, in the way she pulled late nights at the lab and chased after perps even when she knew she was putting her life on the line. While he lived to ensure the safety and integrity of his country, for Stella, first and foremost was the safety and security of a city which she had lived in all of her life. If anyone could appreciate the insult of calling into question the integrity of a person who held such an honour as wearing a police badge; Stella would be the first person to appreciate where such an anger came from.

Hell, he didn't have to imagine what she was feeling right now.

She was far from perfect. Four complaints on her record, one might feel obligated to question why she was such a highly-decorated detective. But every single complaint was lodged as a result of the passion she wears in the way she does her work. That aside, a part of him had to acknowledge that what she did today did not come from a place of passion.

"Someone looks pretty deep in thought," Angell spoke softly from his left side. He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed her sit down at his side.

"Oh, Angell," he replied, somewhat startled. "How's Don?"

She smiled, "He's absolutely fine. He's out of surgery and resting, so I thought I'd come and check up on Stella."

"Sinclair and Gerard are speaking to her now, but physically, she's okay. She should have full motion of her arm back in a week or so."

Nodding, she lifted a coffee cup up from the ground and handed it to him. Smiling genuinely, his mind was taken back to last year after Don had been caught up in that explosion. Stella had sat down beside him, wearing that smile and holding a cup of coffee, reminded him that she was there for him - and he was finally convinced that Don was going to be okay.

If only she was here to reassure him now.

Angell, who's foot was tapping against the ground in worry, had her eyes focused on a poster about bacteria; although he could tell that she wasn't really reading it. Taking a sip of his coffee, he watched her for a few more minutes before speaking up.

"You were pretty worried for Don back there, huh?"

Catching his glance sharply, she replied, "Well, of course I was. He's my partner!"

"It's not my business," he started, a weak smile barely suppressed behind a serious expression, "but when you do a job with as many close calls as we have… Well, there's no room for hidden feelings."

If only he could take his own advice, he thought. With whatever the hell he was feeling for Stella right now, he thought he should at least talk it through with her. Stella was certainly very reasonable, and he doubted she would make a big deal of it. Angell's eyes seemed to scrutinise him as though she had understood how hypocritical his statement had been, but thought better of calling him out on it. Instead, her eyes returned to the wall of posters, only this time, she seemed to scan that on blood transfusions. Taking one last glance at her, he watched the corner of her lips twitch up into the slightest trace of a smile.

"You're good friends?" he asked lightly, his own mouth beginning to turn upwards.

"Yeah, just like you and Stella are good friends."

Sighing, his smile fell as quickly as it had appeared and he began, "Jess…"

"You know, for the two best detectives in New York," she paused for a second, taking a minute to laugh, "You clearly can't see what's right in front of you."

He barely had time to formulate a response when the hospital room door slammed shut behind his partner, who was seething in anger. Between her shaking hands and the tears building behind her eyes, he was torn between holding her close to him and letting her cry, or staying as far away from her as possible to avoid being caught in the firing line of her notoriously quick temper. Both he and Angell stood up, waiting for some kind of outburst.

"Sinclair is a complete bastard!"

"Just Sinclair?" He nudged gently. Angell's eyes focused on the ground, and then Mac realised what was coming next. He should have known better.

"Who's side are you on here, Mac?" she snapped. Against his better judgement, he moved closer to her and moving his hand to her injured arm, he suppressed his urge to bite back.

"I'm on your side, Stella. I just need a bit more than "Sinclair is a complete bastard"."

She nodded, removing his hand from her arm "He wants to speak with you, I'm sure he'd be happy to fill you in."

Watching her storm off, he turned to Angell in shock. She too was stunned by Stella's outburst, and for once, was a little lost for words. Biting her lip, she took a minute to consider her next move.

"I'm going to go see if Stella wants a ride home," nodding, he watched Angell follow the same path Stella had only moments ago, tempted to chase after Stella himself.

He saw a lot of Stella in the younger detective. She was passionate, fiercely loyal and independent, intelligent and unbelievably kind. But there was something he was seeing in Stella (something in which he couldn't quite place), and he didn't like it one bit.