A/N: Hey, guys, here's chapter 14. It's short, but important. Apparently the last chapter was not all that popular -- sorry! Anyway, as usual, review if you want, I love reading them, and constructive criticism is always welcomed. Also, please let me know how you want this to end - no pairing, smacked pairing, or stella/hawkes pairing. And if anyway wants to explain what one is, I may be looking for a beta... Oh, and I still don't own anything you recognize. Thanks and enjoy!

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Chapter 14: Returning

"Sorry, Mac, gotta run-"

"Wait! Don't hang –" The click of the line being disconnected resonated in his ear. "-up. Shit!" he exclaimed, snapping his phone shut. Why wouldn't they talk to him? What in the world was going on over there? In the 4 days since he had left, he hadn't been able to get any member of his team on the phone for more then 3 minutes at a time. And that was only the phone call at the beginning when Flack had told him that he was cleaning up Mac's mess. Mac still had no idea what that was supposed to mean, and he had no idea why they wouldn't let him talk to Stella. Every time he called her phone, one of the guys answered, usually Flack, almost as if they were in possession of it. He was getting heartily sick of hearing Flack's voice.

His hands fisted. He knew that something was going on back in New York, and he couldn't shake the feeling that it was something he needed to get back to. He couldn't deny that London was a gorgeous city. He'd loved seeing the tourist spots, and all the local restaurants that Peyton had known about were great. But… if he was honest with himself, his heart wasn't really in it. As much as he was enjoying London, he needed to get back home.

He was beginning to feel like he never should have left in the first place, though. If he had been running on anything other then pure adrenaline, he probably would have realized that now was not the best time to be taking a vacation. If he was honest with himself, he had to admit that he missed his city -- the congestion and noise, rough accents and tourists. And, he admitted, he missed his team. Hawkes' quiet brilliance, Danny's rough accent, Flack's bad ties, Lindsay and Danny's flirting, and Stella's quick temper and even quicker smile. Yes, he thought, sighing as he stared out the window, he needed to get back.

The sound of their hotel room's door opening made him turn around.

"Hey, sorry that took me so long," She said in her soft accent. "The café was busier then I'd expected."

He smiled briefly. "It's ok. Peyton…" he hesitated. "I have to get back to New York."

"What?! Mac, are you serious?"

"Yeah. Something's going on over there and I need to be there to take care of it."

"Mac, your team is very capable. Whatever's going on I'm sure they can handle it," she said, coming over to him.

"I know they are. But whatever's going on… they're shutting me out. Apparently, I'm not allowed to know. And I can't get Stella on the phone. They're hiding something, something to do with her. I need to be there, Peyton. I'm sorry."

She sighed. "Mac, if you leave…"

He nodded. "I know. I'm sorry. But I have to go."

Turning from her, he walked over to his suitcase and began to pack.

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13 hours later, Mac was finally sitting in a seat aboard a direct flight to New York, waiting for it to move to the runway. Getting a flight at the last minute had turned out to be impossible, but he'd waited anyway, after arriving at the airport. He'd had to take a cab; after he'd started packing, Peyton had realized that he really was leaving and had started ranting. He'd had to hear about how she always came in last, and about how Stella had always been first and how he was a terrible workaholic. Eventually, he'd just left. Talking to her had produced no results, and he had desperately needed to get home. The headache that had been brewing since Lindsay had hung up on him earlier had blossomed into a full-blown migraine, thanks to Peyton's yelling, and all he wanted to do was sleep the rest of the way back to his city.

His team had no idea he was on the way; he hadn't wanted to give them the notice. Whatever they were hiding from him, he didn't want to give them the chance to bury it or to hide it – her—where he couldn't find her. And damn it, he was going to see Stella. They weren't going to be able to put him off anymore.