Title: Caught in the Moment III - Recognition
Author: Peach
Disclaimers: They are not mine, and I'll let you know that I am broke to a point where I can't afford to spend $$ on a Starbuck coffee, so, don't even think about suing me. You won't even get your lawyering fees back.
Genre: Angst, angst, angst, and romance, of course
Spoiler: I am doing so much slower than I planned… 1.21, On the Job
A/N: If the title is not hint enough, here's the blunt version: you need to read Caught in the Moment I and II before this to understand…
A/NII: This is the last story in the Caught in the Moment arch. Thank you all for the feedback! Tell me what you think of these stories and this format of writing? Pretty-please? with a strawberry on top? or do you want a raspberry?
Mac stood some distance away and watched his partner falter in the middle of the street. Before the tension in their relationship (what he really meant was before he so poorly expressed himself and rejected her overture of deeper bonding), he would have been right up there comforting her, but now, he wasn't sure if he was welcomed.
He missed the obvious loss of their closeness, and her ability to display her bare self to him. The days when she would stand in front of him after her cool-down shower, her emotions for him to see so clearly, were definitely very far away. And he couldn't help but to think that he was to blame.
He probably was.
It had been too long since they had been able to communicate effectively (because, really, the loud arguments they had at the lab or the forced effort to tease one another really didn't count), and it veered his life off track.
He knew he wasn't being honest with himself when he refused the intimacy Stella offered, and he also knew, damningly well, how rejection had been a big part of Stella's life and it was one thing that would shatter the strong woman. And knowing that, he still refused to let his heart rule for once. He still chose to hurt her.
She asked for time away. The last time they visited the topic of his late night visit to her apartment, she showed him exactly how deep the wounds he inflicted on her were. He berated himself on his own idiocy, though, because he should have known. He should have realized how fragile Stella was in terms of relationships and opening up herself. And he should bear twice the blame since he gave her the hope before cruelly crushing it with his feet.
The toll on Stella showed. Her normally upbeat personality had been taken down a notch since their "discussion" in her living room, and the whole lab felt it. Surprisingly, they all turned to Mac for the reasons, as if he was the only logical person to know what had been bothering Stella Bonasera.
His worries for her showed as well, and his need to be protective of her emotional state, especially after that night (he couldn't bear to revisit that night's heartache to properly describe it), was becoming more and more apparent. Even Flack noticed, and he approached him once to tell him, indirectly, that he had to trust Stella to do her job right after he realized a baby was part of all that was happening.
Mac wasn't going to deny he was worried for her working her case, when he saw how she had bonded with the baby that was not hers, the baby that she sympathized with, the baby that reminded her all too much of her childhood, of being abandoned. He was worried what it would do to her when she was faced with how uncaring the parents were to their child.
He was worried about her, and what that attachment would cause her.
Stella was a passionate person and therefore, when she was hurt, she hurt deep and painfully. All he could do was stand at the sidelines and wait for her call for help.
Only he knew that, this time, she wouldn't turn to him, because of the sins he committed against her, because of the part he played in stressing her emotionally.
He wouldn't have put her on that case had he known a child with neglecting parents would be involve – not that he had had a choice in that matter. With Danny being investigated, he was already short-handed, and having the two senior CSI's investigating Danny's case (and clearing Danny's name) would look too much like favouritism.
Danny.
The thought of the young man he had adopted as a junior figure somewhat between a younger brother and a son (because, really, despite his age, Danny really acted like a teenage boys sometimes) brought a frustrated sigh out of him and he pinched the bridge of his nose in hope to alleviate some of the pending headache.
Normally, he would go to Stella, to tell her all that was bothering him about people at work. He knew he could trust her, that she would keep his confidence and listen as a friend, not as a co-worker. She had this amazing ability to act the role he needed her to act at the moment.
Yet, he didn't feel like he had the privilege to ask that of her tonight. He had wounded her, and he had caused tension to their relationship, and she was still hurting. It simply wasn't fair to burden her with his problems when she herself was drowning.
So, Mac Taylor contented himself with staying away and watching her wallowed in misery, helpless to do anything to ease her pain.
She stayed still for the longest time, and he stood in the shadows guarding her the whole time. He didn't dare approach her lest his presence disturbed her thoughts, but he had worked as an officer in the Big Apple long enough to know that a woman looking distraught walking the streets of the city in the middle of the night was a welcome prey to all the perverts waiting to pounce. He wouldn't let Stella be a victim, and so, he stood guard; his protectiveness toward his partner overwhelming him.
Yet, he also found strength in that need to protect. From their conversation earlier in the day, one of the scarce ones these days that weren't filled with tension and undertones, he realized how much he really missed her in his life, and that it was cowardice on his part to let go of something that could be so wonderful.
A car sped by at that moment on the now quiet street and the driver honked loudly when they were approaching them. It brought Mac out of his thoughts. His hand went to his holster in an instant and let out a breath of relief when he saw a teenage boy stuck his head out and yelled profanity at his partner before breaking into a fit of laughter with his companion in the car.
The incident jolted Stella out of her thoughts, and she looked up to stare at the car passing by. It also brought Mac out of the shadow with a step closer to his friend.
She must have heard his steps, because she turned around quickly. He could see her hand was reaching back for her weapons. While he was glad to know that Stella's reflexes were still top notch even when she was distraught, he had no desire to visit the hospital as an injured.
"Mac?"
"Come on," he went over to her and held her arm gently. The images of him grabbing her rather forcefully at Sullivan's a week ago flashed through his mind and he winced slightly. It had never been his intention to hurt her, both physically and psychologically. He added that onto the many things for which he needed to ask for her forgiveness.
She was surprisingly pliant, and it worried him. Stella Bonasera was not a push-over, and even though she had acted rather docile outside work hour in the past few weeks (because, he knew, she was rearranging her mind to honour their agreement), she stood her ground and wasn't afraid to speak her mind, let alone be told where to go and what to do on her own time without putting up a fight.
He had her at the front seat of his car and again buckled her up; this time, wanting her to be safe instead of trying to stop her from leaving before he was ready. Without another word spoken, he started the car and drove.
"This isn't to my place," she finally spoke after several turns.
"No, it's not," he replied and did not offer more. He was a quiet person by nature, after all.
"Why?"
"We need to talk," he simply said.
"We tried that already, and it didn't work."
"Well, we're trying again then."
Mac was surprised she didn't have a retort for him, but was relieved. He needed all the time and concentration he had to drive and also to think of how to approach the topic without letting her get away.
At first thought, the discussion should take place at her place, because there she wouldn't be able to flee when things got rough, but he did a reality check, and reminded himself that he was more likely to run away than his head strong partner.
After all, Stella Bonasera was the strongest person he had ever known.
The rest of the ride was made in silence, making Mac wished he knew exactly what to say to ease the tension. Stella didn't protest when he put his hand on the small of her back to guide her to his door.
His apartment was cold in comparison to Stella's. He had moved from the house he shared with his late wife 3 months after 9/11 but still, he hadn't taken the time to make it feel more like a home. To him, it was a place where he could store his possessions, sleep, shower, and be his sanctuary from the crowd that constantly filled the city.
Stella had only been to the apartment exactly three times, all of them anniversary of that fateful day that had turned him to who he had become. All the time she was there, she made sure he ate and clean and rest. They didn't talk - they didn't need words to communicate, thus had been the depth of their connection – but she let him know he could turn to her and lean on her.
Mac opened the door to his apartment and stepped aside for Stella to walk through first. He watched as she took off her jacket and took it from her.
"You want coffee?"
She shook her head negative, "I still hope to catch a few hours of sleep tonight."
"I thought you'd be immune to the caffeine by now," he lightly teased, hoping to chase the tension out of her body.
She smiled, "Well, apparently not."
Mac watched as she settled herself more comfortably on his couch and positioned himself opposite of her. He wanted to see her eyes when they talked, because they were the only windows that would allow him to see through the façade that was Detective Stella Bonasera.
"Stella," he took a deep breath and started, "I think – "
"It's getting too hard," she, as usual, interrupted him before he could finish. "I know I promised you nothing would change, but it's getting too hard."
Her arms were flinging as she spoke, "I've thought a lot about this thing between us the last few days, and, and I want you to know that I am not proud of how things are turning out and I don't like it one bit. I just think that – "
Mac grabbed her gesturing hands and stopped her mid-sentence. He held firm, not strong enough to bruise her, but enough to let her know he would not be letting go easily, "Stella look at me."
He waited, and his request hung in the air between them. Finally, she looked up reluctantly into his eyes. Her green pools were filled with mixed emotions, and Mac felt his heart thumping loudly in his chest. If there was ever a moment to let go of his reservation, he knew, this was it.
"You really have to get used to letting me finish talking before you jump into a speech of yours," he started off softly, hoping to erase the discomfort he spotted in her eyes.
He could feel her relaxed a little and was relieved to see her smile, "Sorry."
"So, hear me out," he requested, still not letting go of her hands. "I've been thinking a lot about what has happened that night in your apartment, and I just can't stop thinking about what would have happened had things turned out differently."
"Mac – "
"Uh-huh," he shook his head, "my turn. I want you to feel my hands, and tell me if something's different."
She looked confused for a moment, but unlike Stella, Mac was known for his patience and he waited for her to see for herself what he wanted her to see.
Mac held his breath in as Stella's soft hands moved deftly in his bigger ones and he knew the moment she realized what was different. Her eyes went wide, and her fingers went moved across the now bear skin with surprise, "Your ring – what happened to it?"
Mac pulled a chain out of his pocket and shoed her, "It's here."
He let her take the chain and examine it. In addition to the ring that used to be on his ring finger, there was a locket, one that was delicate and yet masculine. He watched as she opened it and showed the empty spaces, waiting to be filled with memories.
"Claire will always be with me," he said softly when she looked up at him for an explanation. "I will not discard the years I spent with her. That's not who I am. But for the last three years, there had been another person that is constant in my life, that I know will be there for me whenever I ask, or even when I don't ask, that I feel the urge to protect and keep at my side for as long as possible."
He stopped and waited to gauge her reaction. Tears were pooling in her eyes, blocking him from seeing clearly what she was feeling. It was a gamble to do what he was doing, but he marched on. Mac Taylor had never been one to leave things hanging.
"I am not ready to categorize these feelings yet, but I do want to explore it, to see where it will lead me, because they are significant enough. It will most likely take away something I've been very used to for years, but I think I am willing to give it a try. The only question that remains is whether you would like to give it a try with me."
He waited with baited breath while watching her carefully. When she didn't speak for a while, his heart started pounding louder in his chest. All the what-if scenarios were flashing by in his brain and he wondered if their friendship would survive another blow.
"Even though it may be the reckless thing to do?" her voice was so soft that he almost didn't hear her.
He hesitated, but nodded his consent, "Even that."
"Then I guess we just have to investigate where this will lead us, won't we?"
Smiling, his hand covered hers and closed the locket. She put the chain around his neck and used her hand to feel the ring and the locket that were now beside his heart. Her hand returned to his and they smiled at each other. There would be time for categorizing the feelings later, but they both knew, at that moment, they had a future to fill.
