A/N: Wow guys, it's been almost four months since I updated. But I promised you a trip to Chicago, and here t is! Do you forgive me? I hope so. If you hate me understand that too.... but ENJOY...please. I think that's all I've got to say. If you'd like to chat, give me a PM! :D

Ships: Sam and Mac all the way. Mentions of Claire. You know the drill...

Disclaimer: Samantha Parker belongs to me, but the cast of CSI:NY unfortunately doesn't. Is it really necessary to have to write that every update?? Cause I mean it hurts every time I have to admit that!

The case was finally over. He and the team had gotten Preston Wiley to confess, and he had just finished the paperwork. He could go home, and help Sam pack, and get a few hours of sleep before they had to go to the airport. He shut down his computer, and grabbed his tie and coat hanging from his coat rack just three feet from the door. All he had to do was keep his head down, and make it to the elevator without anyone noticing him.

He tugged his coat on, and opened his office door, and held his breath when Peyton Driscoll shouted his name. He tried his best to ignore her, but she called his name for a second time. "Peyton," he said, turning on his heels.

"Hi," she smiled. "I was hoping, that well maybe we could get together over some coffee. And talk. I think we need to talk."

Mac nodded his head. "I agree with you. But I'm busy right now."

"Oh? I thought you were leaving your shift. My apologies."

"I am leaving my shift," Mac nodded his head. "And I won't be back until Tuesday."

"Right," Peyton nodded her head. "Maybe some time before then? Or after."

"I'm actually going to Illinois with my girlfriend. So after?"

"Oh. Wow. I didn't actually believe you were serious about her," Peyton blinked, shaking her head. "I apologize again."

Mac let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I like Samantha," Mac told her. "I love her, in fact. I loved you, Peyton. But I'm in love with Sam. And we can talk. We'll talk over coffee. After I talk to her and make sure she is comfortable with you and I talking. Not before and not until."

"So she's got you whipped?" Peyton smirked, stepping forward.

"No. I respect her, and I won't make her feel as if I'm going behind her back." Mac stepped back, and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I've got to go."

"You've got my number."

"Does he have a sexy voice?" Scott Parker asked his baby sister. The two hadn't talked in close to a year. Sam had decided to give him a call before leaving for Chicago.

"Yes," Sam laughed. "It's like…raspy but edgy. And he plays the bass."

Mac pressed his ear against the door as he listened to Samantha speak on the phone with someone. He smiled when he realized that she was talking about him on the phone.

"No," he heard her voice, and he could visualize her shake her head. "He's a detective. He works with Danny. Rather Danny works for him…Mac…yeah a bit older, but it's not a big deal…11 years…a few months, I guess. Six or seven maybe. No, he's not a douche," Sam sighed, causing Mac to laugh. "What about you?" Sam stopped, and Mac figured she was sitting on the bed. "Does Todd have a sexy voice?"

He listened to Sam let out a giggle. "Let me guess. Blond, blue eyed, ripped as hell, Boston accent….I know my brother. So who is gonna ask who? You did what! A boy or girl?"

Mac gently knocked on the door, deciding that Sam was finished talking about him, and then stepped into the bedroom. "Hold on," Sam said to Scott. She pressed the phone to her chest and then smiled at Mac. "You're home early."

"Closed the case early," Mac explained, kissing her cheek.

"Okay, I'll let you go, call me when you two are in the City. I love you….no you can't stay here. Because Tim and Leo are already crammed in one bedroom. There's one couch. Where is Todd going to sleep….no it doesn't pull out. Okay, Scott, I have to go. We'll worry about it when you guys are here. Good luck with the kid. Love you," Sam let out a sigh as she hung up the phone.

"Scott?" Mac asked, sitting on the bed to pull his shoes and socks off.

"He and his boyfriend are living in Hawaii," she said rolling her eyes.

"I didn't know he was gay."

"Well, he was bi, but I guess he found the right guy. They applied for adoption. They are coming back to New York in a few weeks to meet with a few parents."

"Oh yeah?" Mac asked, scrunching his face up. "Boy or girl?"

"Girl," Sam said, lying down on her stomach. "I need to pack still," she sighed.

"You should have done it last night when I did."

"I didn't feel like it," she mumbled, as Mac lie beside her.

"When did Tim get in?" Mac asked, running his hand down Sam's back.

"Seven. I asked him to cook Leo dinner so I could get some cleaning done before we left. He can be a good father if he tries."

"That's good."

"He wants to move out after he graduates next month."

"What did you say?"

"That he should go to college. But he swears he has a job lined up."

"Why isn't he going to college?"

"Because I can't make him. Trust me if it was up to me he'd be going. But it's his decision, and he wants to be with Leo. So I made a deal with him. I have a contract for this place for the next four months. If he can pay the rent and bills for those four months, I'll resign the contract, put down first and last month's rent, and I'll find another place for me."

"Did he accept?"

"Yes." She played with a strand of hair, while Mac looked at her. She cupped his face in her hands, and gave him a soft smile. "Why didn't you and Claire have children?"

Mac let out a deep breath, and sat on the bed. He knew that question was bound to pop up at any time. He was expecting Samantha would want to talk about having children with him before asking why he didn't have them with another woman. But like always, Samantha gave him a run for his money.

Sam sat beside her boyfriend, and reached for his hand, which he gratefully took. "Claire wanted them, but I didn't," he started, looking at Sam. "I thought we would have time. She had asked me over and over, but I told her that I wanted my career to start off first. I was afraid of what would happen if we had a baby financial wise. About a year before she died, we decided to start trying. But it never happened. The doctor told her she couldn't have them. And adoption was out of the question for her. She would say that God was punishing her for…" Mac stopped speaking, realizing he never told Sam about Reed.

"For what?" Sam asked, scrunching her eyebrows.

"When she was a sophomore in high school she got pregnant," Mac explained. "She thought she was in love, and she thought she had to show it to that boy, and her parents made her give him up, I was about 22 at the time, I'd grown up near her. And I had come home for Christmas. I was the first person she had told. I told her she should keep Ryan, That was what she named him. But her parents wouldn't go for it. So she put him up for adoption. He lives in New York now. But his parents renamed him Reed. But Claire always said God was punishing her for putting him up for adoption."

Sam shook her head in disbelief, before she noticed the face Mac had been sporting. She knew by now that it was his angry face. She could tell by the way he picked a spot on the wall ahead of him, and didn't blink. "So, you still talk to Reed?" she asked.

"Every once and a while we get together for a slice of pizza. To talk about Claire. He never got to meet her. He turned 18 a couple years after she died, and when he came to look for her, she was gone."

Sam nodded her head as she ran her hand down Mac's back showing that she wasn't upset with him for keeping something that big from her. "Thanks for telling me."

Mac nodded his head, and looked at her. "I would like them though. Children. Maybe just one. Do you?"

Sam shrugged. "I did when I was little. But I think I would be fine without them."

"Why don't you want them anymore?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't think I would be able to handle it. Not after what happened when I was pregnant before."

"What would you have named her?" Mac asked.

"Rene," Sam said. "Louie wanted to name her Rene."

Mac nodded his head, and then laid back down, Samantha followed his lead. She pressed her head against his chest, and Mac wrapped his arm around her. "I like that we can go from subject to subject like this," he told her. "So is Scott staying here?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded her head. "He and his boyfriend just for a few days. And then we're going to drive to North Jersey where my Dad lives and stay there a few days. Tommy might come out from the rock he's been living in and visit too."

Mac nodded his head. "That sounds fun."

"Would you like to come?" Sam looked up at him.

"Sure," Mac nodded his head. "If I can get a few days off."

"You're already off that weekend," Sam replied. "I checked your schedule." Sam let out a giggle when he didn't reply. "I'm meeting your family. You have to meet mine too."

"I guess that's fair," he sighed.

"I gotta pack," Sam groaned.

"I'll help."

Sam reluctantly stood up, and left the room to get her laundry from the dryer. She came back ten minutes later with a white basket full of her clothes, and threw them on top of Mac who was still lying on the bed. "Oops," she said innocently. "I didn't see you there."

"Yeah, right," Mac laughed.

Sam grabbed a shirt from the bed, scrunched her eyebrows and wrinkled her nose, as she began folding her clothes.

Mac stood next to her, and picked up a pair of unfolded jeans from the bed. Sam watched him scrunch his eyebrows in concentration as he neatly lined up the creases in the legs, lined the zipper with the fold, and folded the jeans into three equal parts before placing them into the suitcase. He grabbed a black t-shirt and folded it with the same concentration as before placing it neatly on top of the jeans.

She knew why he did that. She knew that being in the Marines caused him to be paranoid about having perfectly folded clothes. Her father was the same way when he folded his clothes. She had even picked up on it after seeing her father neatly fold things crease-to-crease, corner-to-corner, fold-to-fold.

Sam pulled the jeans from the suitcase, and set them on the bed. "You may have OCD when it comes to folding," she started. "But I have OCD when it comes to organizing my clothes." She placed a hand on his face and kissed his cheek. "So you fold, and I'll pile."

"Teamwork," Mac nodded his head, grabbing a pair of pajama pants.

"Okay," Sam nodded her head. She turned on her side, and ran her fingers through Mac's hair. "Your hair is getting wavy," she told him, twisting a strand of his hair between her fingers.

"I haven't had time to get it cut," he mumbled, continuing to fold Sam's clothes.

"I like it," she smiled, pressing her chest against his side, and kissing his ear, still playing with his hair.

"I don't," he grinned, setting the jeans he had picked up back on the bed. "But if you like it…" Mac wrapped his hands around Sam's waist, and turned to face her. He gently used his foot to make her fall onto the bed, and leaned over to kiss her.

"I do," she giggled," unbuttoning his light blue shirt, and running her hands up his white undershirt. "You smell really good today too. What is that? New aftershave?"

"It is. I decided to go with Gravity."

"Very daring," Sam joked.

"Nah," Mac chuckled, unbuttoning Sam's jeans. "They were just out of what I usually get."

"I like it," she said, as Mac leaned down to kiss her neck.

Sam sat nervously on the plane, her hands gripping the armrests on either side of her. She was nervous about meeting Mac's sister, and his mom. Mothers were always worse when it came to their sons. She was scared. She knew they were going to ask her a thousand questions. A thousand too many that she wasn't ready for.

Mac wrapped his arm around Sam, shaking her from her thoughts. "You okay?" he asked, kissing the side of her head.

"Just one question."

"They liked Claire."

Sam nodded her head. "So they're going to hate me for a while then?"

Mac let out a chuckle. "You'll be fine."

"Is there anything I should know as a heads up?"

Mac shook his head. "Just be prepared for their questions."

"Oh great," she grumbled.

"Kristin will love you. You two are like the same person," Mac assured her. "Kathryn wont even be there. Her husband can't get off work. And I think my mom will like you."

"She's 80, Mac. My grandma is younger than her."

"By two years," he laughed. "She has a kid that's 34 you know."

"Which makes it worse. I'm the same age as your sister. I should be dating her not you."

"I didn't think our age difference bothered you."

"It doesn't bother me. But is it gonna bother them?"

"Sam. My mom married my father when she was 16 and he was 25. I don't think she gives a shit if you're 20 as long as you make me happy. Kristin and you have a lot in common."

"Do I?" Sam asked.

"What?"

"Make you happy?"

"Of course you do," he said, kissing her. "You're freaking out for no reason."

"That's what I do," she said. "I freak out when I meet new people."

"You didn't freak out when you met me."

Sam let out a laugh. "If you recall that 9/11 dinner I almost shit myself being around all Danny's friends."

"You'll be fine," he assured her.

"I'll be fine after we land," she said, closing her eyes.

"You're not scared of flying too?" he sighed.

"I'm sorry! I can't help it. I'm scared of snakes, new people and planes. There has to be something you're scared of."

Mac let out a sigh. "There is. But I'm not telling you."

"Why not?"

"Because."

"You don't trust me?"

He let out a another sigh. "Geese."

"Geese?"

"Geese."

"May I ask why?"

"I was attacked by them when I was a kid." Mac glanced at Sam from the corner of his eye, watching her trying not to laugh.

"That must have been…"

"Thanks," he said.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I know. Geese can be mean animals. They are mean animals. I just. I'm sorry." Mac rolled his eyes. "Did you get hurt badly?"

He gently nodded his head, and pointed to the right side of his chin where a tiny scar sat. "Three stitches right there…" he showed her his hand, were fix or six small scars splattered his fingertips.

"Aw," Sam said, taking his hand in hers. She pressed her lips to his index finger, and slowly kissed each scar. When she was finished, she turned to face him, and pressed a kiss to his chin. "I love you," she told him.

"I love you too," he smiled.

Mac closed his eyes, preparing himself for the fly. His hope was to sleep through the ride, but little did he know Samantha wasn't going to allow that. She would be in his ear the whole time, as she stuck her head out the window.

Sam stood next to their luggage as Mac hugged his baby sister. When he finished, he turned, and smiled at Sam. "This is Samantha. Samantha this is Kristin."

"It's nice to put a face to the name," Kristin smiled, squeezing Samantha tight to her chest. "Mac's talked about you tons."

After they hugged, Sam smiled at Kristin. "Mac's talked about you too," she said, eyeing the woman before her. Though she was supposed to be celebrating her 34th birthday this weekend, the girl looked to be 25. She had the same dark hair as Mac, and the same bone structure, and it was clear that she was aging well just as Mac had. She wore her hair in a pony tail, and dark skinny jeans with purple converses, and a plain black t-shirt. She was definitely hanging with the younger crowds as well.

Kristin headed to the back of the car, and opened the trunk, while Mac slid the luggage in the back. "I'm glad you guys could come. It should be fun. I hope. So I'm seeing someone new."

Mac rolled his eyes, and opened the front door for Samantha. "What's his name?"

"Jonathon," she smiled. "He's forty."

"Does he have kids?" Mac climbed into the back seat after helping Samantha, and strapped his seatbelt on as his sister drove away.

"One. A boy. Mark."

"You know what I think about older guys with kids," Mac replied.

"You're older," Kristin said, looking in the rearview mirror.

"Do I have kids?"

"You have Reed."

"That doesn't count," the two bickered.

"What's wrong with older men?" Kristen asked, turning to Samantha. "Do you see a problem with older men?"

"No," Sam laughed.

"Older men that were in marriages before are only looking for one thing Kristin," Mac explained.

"So you're only dating Samantha because you like to have sex with her? It's not because you might actually love her?"

"That is different," Mac explained. "I didn't willingly get pulled from my marriage. Older men who have been married before don't want to be married again. That's why they date younger people."

"He just likes the sex," Samantha giggled.

"That's a lie."

"So you don't like to have sex with her?" Kristin smiled at Samantha.

"I'm not satisfying?" Samantha asked Mac, feeding into Kristin's game.

"I give up," Mac sighed. His girlfriend and his sister were teaming up on him, and he knew he had no chance.

"I like you, Sam. You know how to make my brother blush."

"I like you too," Sam replied, letting out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. She was relieved that one of the family members already liked her.

An hour later, Mac and Sam were unpacked in his childhood bedroom, and eating lunch in his mother's kitchen. The house, though very quiet was very welcoming. The walls were covered with pictures of everything from Mac's childhood to him and his father in their teen years, dressed in their uniforms. In the center of the old kitchen table sat a vase of yellow roses, and the smell of a chicken roasting filled the air. And though Sam felt the love in the home, she also felt the hostility. Mac had awkwardly hugged his mother, and kissed her cheek, told her he missed and loved her, and she hadn't said one word. She was still upset over her husband's death, no matter how long ago.

Kristin had taken Mrs. Taylor to bingo, leaving Mac and Sam alone, as they ate egg salad sandwiches, and drank lemonade.

"So," Mac said, chewing the last of his sandwich. "I think they like you so far."

Sam nodded her head. As far as she was concerned, Kristin loved her. "Your mom seems so…" she stopped, trying to find the right word to describe Mrs. Taylor.

"She hasn't been well since my Dad died. She misses him."

Sam nodded her head, and gulped the rest of her lemonade. "So. You gonna show me around the city?"

Mac nodded his head. "We'll get up early and go tomorrow. It's too late for it now."

"Sounds like a plan."

"Speaking of plans," Mac started. "I was thinking about what you said. With Timmy wanting his own place and all…" Mac stopped speaking, and blushed a bit.

Sam nodded her head. "You want me to move in," she finished for him. She bit her bottom lip, and played with the corner of the table after she saw Mac nod his head. "I don't know. There's a lot to talk about before that."

"Like?"

"All those small annoying flaws both of us have that we haven't discovered yet?" she started. "Within the first week of moving in together, we're gonna wanna kill each other."

Mac nodded his head. "We practically live together now, and I don't want to kill you."

"That's not true. There are times when I do something stupid and you bite your tongue. Don't deny it."

"Sometimes," Mac nodded his head. "But those flaws make you who you are. And I love you."

"What about Tiggins? You hate that he sheds. His hair would be all over your suits."

"Why are you throwing all the bad things out there? Do you not like this idea?"

"I do," Sam shook her head. "But we need to work those small annoying things out first. It's the small things that work up to the big things."

Mac nodded his head in agreement, and bit the inside of his cheek. He had just took nother huge step in their relationship, and she was shooting him down.

"I do want to," Sam assured him, noticing the hurt look on his face. "I just think there are some things to decide."

"I know," Mac agreed. "And you know I can figure those things out, right? You know those small details are my thing."

"The small details to events are," she agreed. "Like deciding whose furniture to use, and what neighbor hood is best, and what car is the most efficient one for us. But the small things to small, like putting the toilet paper roll facing down, not up, and picking out a paint color for the living room we both will be able to live with. And I can't do that. Not all at once."

"Does it really matter which way the toilet paper faces?" Mac chuckled, raising his eyebrows.

"God, yes," Sam let out a sigh. "Every time we stay at your house I'm flipping the roll over. Don't you ever notice?"

"I didn't," he laughed. "I never even realized I put it facing up."

"You do," Sam said. "And I wanna kick you every time."

"So from now on, I'll put it down. Okay? We both have our pet peeves, and we'll try and avoid them. That's how relationships work. With communication."

"Yeah," Sam said. "So let's just talk before we do anything serious."

Mac nodded his head, and stood up to clear the table. "I wash, you dry?" he asked her.

"Yup," Sam smiled, standing up as well. She grabbed her glass and plate, and headed for the sink behind Mac, who handed her a dishtowel.

Sam sat besides Mrs. Taylor as she folded her clothes. "Need help?" Sam asked, reaching for a baby blue blouse decorated with pale yellow flowers. She folded the shirt in half, and set it on top of the pile Mrs. Taylor had made.

"I have two perfectly well hands," Addison Taylor said, her hands shaking as she folded another shirt.

"You hate me because you think I'm taking Claire's place in his heart," Sam said, folding anther shirt. "I'm not taking anyone's place. He still loves her. He still loves your daughters. He still loves Mr. Taylor. He still loves you, Mrs. Taylor. But for some reason he met me, and he's making a spot for me too. And I know it's hard for you to understand."

"When McCanna died, I didn't date," she agreed. "Because he was my love. And Claire was Mac's. His eyes sparkled, he was always smiling. And then she died. And he was never the same. He still isn't. It bothers me that you can make him smile."

Sam nodded her head, and bit her bottom lip. "You can make him smile too," she told her. "He was really excited to come here. He wanted me to meet you. He said I'd love you."

"He hasn't been excited for anything since he married Claire."

Mac sat on the back porch of his mother's home, a bottle of beer in his hand, his feet stretched out, and Samantha sitting quietly beside him. The home had changed since he'd last been there, 8 years ago. His mother had aged significantly. Her once brown hair was now snow white. Her face had more wrinkles, her hands shook more, and she was lonely. It broke his heart to see his mother so shaken up over his father's death over 16 years ago. But even 16 years later, he could still remember his father's funeral.

Claire had still been alive. They had come home to Illinois to help arrange the funeral. After the viewing, McCanna Taylor's body had been cremated, and Mrs. Taylor had food and drinks for the people who attended the viewing. Claire had sat supportively next to a mute Mac, and said thanks when people approached him to give their condolences. Her hand was always touching him, to let him know she was there for him. She had given sad smiles to those who shared stories of McCanna, and spoke so Mac didn't have to. She had filled bowls of chips, and poured orange juice for the elder couples.

Mac had been the more rational one in their relationship. He was the one supporting Claire, assuring her everything would be alright. So he'd been surprised when Claire has stepped up, and arranged the funeral for Mrs. Taylor.

Mac turned and smiled at Sam, "She misses my dad," he whispered.

Samantha nodded her head, and set her hand on his lap. "You miss him too," she said sympathetically.

"Yeah."

"I bet he was a good man."

"He was," Mac assured her, "He'd have liked you."

Sam nodded her head, and glanced up at the sky. "Stars," she said.

Mac nodded his head, but didn't look at her. "Don't see them in New York," he agreed. He took a swig of his beer, and continued to look at the sky. "Two months before Claire died we sat on this porch," he told Samantha, finally looking at her. "For the Fourth of July. She sat right her on the porch her head between my knees, and just the two of us waited for fireworks. And right before they started, she saw a shooting star." He took another swig of his beer and glanced at his childhood back yard. "And she squeezed her eyes shut, pulled her knees to her chest, and you know what she wished for?"

"What?" Sam asked, looking at Mac.

"I don't know," he shook his head. "I'm never gonna know."

Sam nodded her head, and rested her hand on Mac's thigh. "She's alright. Wherever she is, she's alright."

"I hope so," Mac nodded his head.

Sam gave Mac's mother a kiss on the cheek as Mac headed out the door to set their bags in Kristin's car. "Bye Mrs. Taylor," Sam smiled, hugging Mac's mother. "I had a great weekend. I love your chicken. Thank you for the recipe. Now I know it's Mac's favorite I'll have to cook it more often."

"By sweetie," Mrs. Taylor smiled. "Take care of him. You fixed him, you can't break him. He used to be tough enough for it, but he's too fragile for that now, Samantha. So you take care of him."

Sam gave Mrs. Taylor a smile and a nod. "I will," Sam told the older woman, before following Kristin out of the door.

"You were a big hit," Kristin smiled. "She doesn't like meeting new people."

"That's good," Sam smiled, as Mac opened the front door of the car for her. "I'm really glad."

"So you have my number. Call me, and we can get together over the summer if you'd like," Kristin started, hugging Sam. "Kathryn has a time share in Disney too, or we could do a day at the beach."

"That sounds great," Sam nodded her head. "I'll be looking forward to it. My dad lives in North Jersey about a block away from the beach too. We could always stay the night there or something."

"Can't wait," Kristin smiled, hopping into the driver's side of her car to take Mac and Sam to the airport.

JFK was packed, as usual. But Mac managed to maneuver he and Sam through the crowd, and into the parking garage with ease. He opened the passenger door for Sam, and watched her climb in, fasten her seat belt and rest her head against the back of the seat. She was beat. And she was relieved to be home, after a safe flight.

Mac threw their suitcase in the back of the truck, and then climbed into the driver's side himself. He glanced at Sam, who was already situated in the car. It'd been a long three day weekend, he concluded. "What do you want for dinner?" Mac asked, pulling out of the parking garage. "We can stop and get something."

Sam shook her head. "I was planning on cooking Mac and Cheese for Leo. It's his favorite," she informed Mac, turning to give him a smile. "And then I'm going to take a nice nap."

Mac let out a chuckle. "I bet he missed you. Timmy can't cook if his life depended on it."

"They probably ordered fast food every night," Sam laughed. Mac reached over and set his hand on her thigh as he pulled into the city traffic, a refreshing smile on his face. "I was thinking," Sam started, turning her head towards Mac.

"About?" Mac asked, raising an eyebrow in curiosity, but never taking his eyes off the road.

"There's an apartment complex..." She started. "Just about about three blocks from the lab. They're two and three bedroom places. There's an indoor pool too, and roof access. And a little community garden also."

Mac gave Sam a smile. Though he'd just asked her a few days ago, and she hadn't given him a direct answer, she had been searching for a home for a while. And she had been searching for one in close proximity to his work place. She'd been thinking on the idea of living together, and it looked like she had made the perfect decision. "Oh yeah?" Mac asked, playing along. "Is that where you're gonna move after Timmy takes over your place?"

"Well," Sam blushed. "I was thinking we could move there. Together." The emphasize on the word "we" made Mac's heart jump a beat. They were planning things for the both of them. They weren't just Mac and Sam. They were a team.

Thanks to my lovely reviewers, to whom I owe a shoutout, and a great big thanks!

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