Title: Statue of Liberty
Author: StarrySkies
Rating: T (may change for future chapters)
Pairing: Mac/Stella
Disclaimer: Don't own anything. Characters are property of Jerry Bruckheimer, CBS, & co.
Summary: Stella's always been the strong one, the one everyone could look to for guidance, but what happens when the statue falls to pieces?

Stella stood in Mac's office, waiting for him to arrive. He called her cell minutes before and told her to meet him there. He had a big case to tell her about. Her back was to the glass door while she stared at the bookshelf. She scanned the titles with her index finger and was just about to remove a book when she heard his feet clank on the metal stairs before he opened the door.

"Whatcha got, Mac?" she asked without turning around.

He held open a manila folder but didn't look at it to recite the information: "Female, mid-to-late thirties, Greek-Italian descent, possible DV."

Stella cringed, realizing the description was of her. She closed her eyes, her mind recalling the definition of "DV." Domestic violence. She bit the inside of her cheek before she replied. "… Who told you, Mac?" she asked.

"Aiden said she saw you in the locker room." He watched Stella from behind as she nodded; her brunette curls bounced ever so slightly. She hugged her arms close to her side. He shut the empty folder and tossed it onto his desk, hoping to God that he would never have to see an actual folder with Stella Bonasera's name on it.

She stood immobile with her arms crossed over her chest in her typical stance, one foot out to the side. Still, she didn't turn around.

Mac's nervousness grew. "Well, are you going to let me see?

Stella exhaled and spun around slowly on the heel of her boot to face him. Her expression was devoid of emotion. She stared at him, awaiting his reaction. She tucked several loose tresses behind her left ear as to give him a better view of the damage. "There. Now can I please get to work on a real case?"

"What happened, Stella?"

"It's nothing. Don't make a big deal out of it."

"It is a big deal," he paused, "and you know it. Now, what happened?"

"I got in a fight, okay?" she said at last.

He was shocked. "With who?"

"Just a guy I've been seeing." She turned away as she said it. She pretended to read the titles of the books on the shelf once again.

"I… didn't know you were… seeing anyone," Mac said hesitantly, his first time hearing about it, somewhat hurt that he didn't know before.

"Despite my work schedule, I try to have some sort of a life outside of this place," she said almost angrily and then silently cursed herself for her choice of words. She hoped Mac didn't take offense that it was a comment aimed toward his own social life.

"And he hit you," Mac half asked, half accused.

"Yeah." She turned toward him and snapped, "Are we done here?"

Stella was growing more impatient, and Mac knew but chose to ignore it. Stella was never one to be fussed over. And he knew that as well, but this was one instance where the fuss was necessary. "You're going to press charges, right?"

She turned her back to him once again. She silently wished she didn't come into work. She should have called in sick or taken at least a week of the vacation time she had banked from nearly eight years of working without a break. Give the bruise enough time to heal before she had to suffer the wrath of Mac. But, she never wanted time off. She had a job to do, and no one could do it better than she could. If she had taken a week, Mac would've showed up at her door, wondering what was wrong with her anyway. Better that it went this way instead, but she wouldn't let him know it.

"You're not going to do it, are you, Stella?" Mac couldn't believe it.

"I'm fine. Save the paperwork for someone who actually needs it."

"It may be your name on that folder next time," he said, trying to scare her into filing.

She sighed. "Save it, Mac. I don't --"

Danny bursting though Mac's office door interrupted her.

"Stella? Are you all right? What happened?"

She sighed again, this time in disgust. "What did Aiden do? Tell the whole unit?"

"Danny, please wait outside," Mac instructed.

"Isn't anyone gonna tell me what's going on?" he asked.

"Outside, Danny. Stella will inform you when and if she sees fit. And please stop any rumors you hear out there." Mac pointed towards the door, and Danny reluctantly exited out into the main lobby of the station. "Maybe this isn't the best place to have a private conversation," Mac said, taking note of many employees staring through the glass walls of the office.

Stella took a quick glance over her right shoulder to see most of the station drop their heads or turn away when they realized they had been caught. "Perfect," she muttered to herself.

"Follow me." He reached for the door handle.

"Mac, this is ridiculous. I'm fine," she tried to laugh it off.

"Just come with me." He opened the door for her. The fake smile soon faded, and she pulled her hair down in front of her face as she walked toward him. His right hand delicately found the small of her back, as it often did, to guide her down the steps and back toward the interrogation room.

"Fitting place," she joked, anticipating the grill session soon to occur.

Mac took note of the joke and under ordinary circumstances would have given her at least his trademark half-smile. But these were no ordinary circumstances.

"I don't know why you're wasting your time on this. I'm fine," she insisted. She ran her fingers through her dark hair and let it fall back down.

"I'm not wasting my time." What he meant, but could never say, was that he cared about her too much to let someone hurt her. He pulled out a chair for her, and she sat down, not taking her eyes off of the empty room on the other side of the one-way mirror. He took a seat beside her and waited before he spoke. The dim lighting of the room cast shadows on her dark olive skin, her beautiful face. The bruise was made even darker. Mac sat silently as she propped her head up with her left hand on the table; her ear rested in her palm; curls fell down around her forearm.

His silence made her anxiety intensify. And Stella Bonasera was afraid of nothing. She'd seen more of her share of the darkness of the city, investigated murders and kidnappings. You name it, Stella's probably seen it. But Mac Taylor, not talking at that particular moment, made Stella crazy. She couldn't take it.

"Are you going to say something?" she pleaded. Her eyes waited for an answer.

"What do you… want me to say?" he hesitated as he broke out of his Stella-induced trance.

"Oh, don't give me that, Mac. I know how your cop tactics work. I'm a cop too, you know." She was getting very angry. Never a good sign.

"Fair enough." He nodded. She was too smart for mind tricks. He had to at least try. "Why'd he do it?"

"I don't know," she said, half angry, half genuinely confused. She stuttered, "I -- He -- He got mad."

"About what?"

"I can't even remember!"

He watched sadness come across her face, and he knew that she had no clue what happened. Most women don't, Mac reminded himself.

To be continued…

A/N: I started this story a long time ago, and I got writer's block, but I'm posting it now, trying to work through it because I'm in love with this story and don't want to abandon it. Please forgive me if the update for this doesn't come as soon as you would like. :)