Disclaimer: Sigh. I don't own CSI: NY or any of its characters. I just love writing about them. If I owned them, I'd be writing the scripts, not fanfics… Hey, a girl can dream :P
Hints
by Megan as csi-worshippers
They were in his office. He was sitting in his chair, she was standing in front of his desk, yelling at him. She was so fed up of all this. But as usual, he was just sitting there and enduring it.
"Damnit!" cursed Stella. "If you really love me, Mac, do something! I've been waiting so long, for something to spark between us. Can't you see? How many times does it take, Mac? How many hints does it take for you too understand? How clueless can you get? After all these years? You, Mac Taylor, head of CSI! Do you really need me to elaborate? Do you want one last hint, Mac?"
He was shocked. Alright, he knew Stella had a thing for him, and him her, but this was way too unexpected. He didn't think that thing was this big. And that was a lot of questions for a guy to soak in all at once. But he didn't need anymore hints. In truth, he'd understood from the very beginning, after that very first hint of hers. He just didn't know how too convey how he felt. So he'd thrown a couple of his own hints. Harmless flirting, he thought.
How could he ever have thought so wrong?
Ever the CSI herself, she understood as well. After the first hint.
And he figured that out. So he stopped. He stopped flirting, he stopped throwing hints. It would just make the 'thing' she had for him, bigger. And he couldn't handle that. So he thought. And he usually thought wrong.
So he sits in his office, her standing across from him, fuming. He endures countless minutes of her ranting and his own endless unspoken thoughts. And suddenly, he figures out how to convey it. He figures she's right when she begs him to do something. It was his fault nothing happened between them, after all.
And, hell, was he ever going to do 'something.'
"Stella. I don't need another hint. I don't want another hint. And you know what? I got it after the first hint. I'm ashamed to say I don't know why I didn't do anything about it. You knew how I felt, though, and—"
"Yeah, I knew how you felt, Mac. You used to always used to be so—careless around me. You flirted a lot of the time," she smiled faintly, recalling the old Mac Taylor. "And then something changed. I don't know what, it just did. You stopped flirting, you stopped being careless. You pretty much boxed yourself inside that head of yours. Now haven't the faintest idea what you feel about me anymore. But I could tell you liked me. Then, at least. And man, was I happy. I liked you, too. I still like you. Hell, Mac, I even love you, now. What went so wrong that you closed yourself off? What happened to the old Mac Taylor?"
He sighed. Stella loved him. Well, he loved her, too. And that was perfectly why the old Mac Taylor disappeared. He was simply too preoccupied or shy to do anything. So he closed himself off, so no none could see what was in his heart when he let it out of his chest every once in a while. But he still loved her.
He repeated that over and over again. She's gonna find out anyway. You both love eachother, you know that for sure now, so why hold back still? What is there to be shy about now?
There was nothing to be shy about now.
So he'd tell her.
"Stella, there is no old Mac Taylor. There's just me. I closed off because… because I knew, I thought my feelings for you would never change. I just didn't know what else to do… And I was right, for once."
"You were right? You—you still…? After all these years of… nothing?" she choked.
He bowed his head. He nodded to his shoes.
Stella Bonasera had finally gotten Mac to open up. She ran around the desk, throwing her arms around him.
He stood up and turned awkwardly in her arms, so that he was facing her. He returned her embrace, hugging her tightly.
"I guess I shoulda told you sooner, huh?"
"Yeah, Mac. You shoulda."
END