Characters/Pairing: Don/Mac
Rating: T
Summary: Sid's retirement party makes Mac reconsider the status of his relationship with Don.
Warnings: Spoilers for S9 ep 11 'Command+P'
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the CSI NY characters, I'm only borrowing them, and I promise to return them in minty fresh condition when I'm finished.
The jacket had been the first to go. It had slid easily from Don's shoulders to be caught in one hand. He'd whirled it about his head in time to the music for a few beats, before tossing it to the side of the dancefloor, where Mac had caught it as easily if they'd rehearsed the move a thousand times.
Don's tie had been discarded soon after. It had hung loosely around his neck for a few songs, the knot proving no match for his energetic moves on the dance floor. Don hadn't noticed it fall, but Mac had. Mac had been watching Don for most of the evening, and as the forgotten length of material fell to the floor, he kept an eye on its trajectory, as keenly as he would watch the flight of a projectile in a lab recreation. The vibrations of the music and the dancers' feet jostled it towards the side of the dance floor, where Mac and the other less energetic guests at Sid's retirement party sat and watched.
Mac had left his seat to retrieve the tie. Partly out of his natural instinct for order and safety - a stray tie had no business being underfoot - and partly because of his sense of responsibility towards Don - his friend, his lover, and oh so much more - and his belongings. After all, Mac told himself as he carefully pocketed the errant strip of fabric, given that he had been the one to lovingly place it around Don's neck and tie the perfect knot, he did share in the responsibility for the fact that it hadn't remained in place. The remainder of the responsibility being down to Don and his wild gyrations on the dance floor, measured as much in terms of enthusiasm and enjoyment than any degree of talent.
A few hours earlier.
Mac checked his watch again to make sure that they hadn't reached their departure time yet. Don was just finishing up shaving and he caught the movement in the bathroom mirror. "Mac, we've plenty of time before we need to leave." He put down the razor and wiped his face clean before turning around. "And besides, so what if we was a little late. The party's gonna go on half the night and Sid said there wasn't gonna be any big speeches from him. So, it's not like we'd miss anything."
"I know," said Mac. He'd been standing in the doorway, watching Don perform his ablutions, and now he stepped aside to let the other man through into their shared bedroom. "But I do like to be punctual."
Don groaned theatrically, "And don't I know it." He reached for the white shirt which Mac had laid out on the bed for him. "I'm sorry I couldn't get away any earlier." Thrusting his arms into the sleeves, he quickly buttoned it up. "Okay, tie and jacket and that's me ready." Don made to move towards the dresser where he kept his collection of ties, but Mac stepped in front of him, a length of material in his hand.
"Let me," said Mac, holding out a tie.
"That's not one of mine," said Don, eying the tie suspiciously.
"It is now," said Mac. Before Don could react, Mac had placed the tie around his neck, tucking it gently under the collar before tying it expertly. Mac made a few miniscule adjustments to the way the tie was lying before standing back and admiring his handiwork. He'd found the tie among his collection a few days earlier, the blue shade of the material had reminded him of Don's eyes, and he'd set it aside, knowing that it would add the finishing touch to Don's attire for that evening. "You'll do," said Mac, with a grin, before leaning in and brushing his lips against Don's, intending it as a taste of what Don could expect for later.
But Don was not so easily satisfied and before Mac could pull away, Don had one hand on the back of his head holding it in position, as the other snaked around Mac's waist. Using just enough force to move Mac, but not so much that he couldn't have stopped him had he wanted to, Don steered them both back towards their bed, only stopping when his foot kicked against something on the ground. Glancing down, Don noticed a wheeled case and a frown appeared on his face. "You're bringing your CSI kit? I thought you said that Quinn from New Jersey was covering for youze tonight."
"What?" Mac frowned. "She is…" He glanced down at the case and smiled, "That's just an overnight bag I packed for us. I, ah, I took the liberty of reserving a room for us at the hotel where the party is…I thought that since we both have a day off tomorrow as well, that we could spend the night…" He looked up at Don, "You don't mind?"
It had taken a bit of getting used to on both their parts when Don had taken the step of moving in with Mac a few months earlier. Mac had been used to having things his own way, making all his personal decisions without needing to take anyone else's opinions into consideration. But Don had opinions, strong opinions about pretty much everything, from takeout to dry cleaning services and was not inclined to simply defer to Mac without good reason. But off the job as well as on the job, Don was always ready to listen and willing to change his position in the face of new evidence. "I just don't need youze making those sorts of decisions without me, not when it's something that affects both of us. If we're gonna make this work, we gotta work together," he'd told Mac.
A wide grin appeared on Don's face. "A hotel room?"
Mac nodded, "King size bed…1,000 thread count sheets…late checkout in the morning…"
"Room service?"
Mac nodded, "Breakfast in bed if you want it…"
"And if we get there early enough, can we test out the bed before the party?"
"Maybe."
Don leaned in as if to kiss Mac, and then hesitated, "Your CSI kit is already in the trunk, isn't it." His voice was carefully neutral, but it was clearly a statement more than a question.
"I…" Mac nodded and then sighed, "If there's an emergency…if Quinn has to call me in, it's going to be one hell of an emergency, and I could waste valuable time either getting to the lab or back home. I'm sorry, Don…"
"Shhh," said Don, putting a finger to Mac's lips. "I get it, really I do." He replaced the finger with his own lips and a gentle kiss. "You know your devotion to duty is one of the things I love about you." He wrapped his arms around Mac, holding him close for a while before whispering in his ear, "Of course one of the other things is that thing you do with your tongue…" Don could feel Mac's suppressed laughter.
In the end, they hadn't had time to test out the king size mattress. Traffic had been heavier than even Mac had planned for and by the time they'd reached the hotel, there had only been time to check in and take a cursory look around the suite before heading back down to the function room where Sid's party was taking place.
Mac hit the button for the 2nd floor, and the doors had barely closed before he felt Don's arms wrap around him from behind. Don rested his chin on Mac's shoulder and asked with studied innocence, "So, how long do you think this elevator ride will take?"
"I'm afraid it will be disappointingly short," said Mac, a smile on his face.
"Maybe I just accidentally hit the emergency stop button, and make it take a little longer."
"Maybe we get caught on the security cameras and wind up with a public indecency charge," retorted Mac. He saw Don's reflection pout briefly in the mirrored panels beside the doors before smiling again.
"Security cameras don't have sound, do they?" Don leaned in closer and started whispering in Mac's ear in great detail, exactly what he would be doing if there weren't any cameras around.
A part of Mac wanted to say, 'to hell with it', hit the emergency stop and let Don do such wickedly wonderful things with him. The more rational part of him reminded him of the potential consequences should he succumb to Don's blandishments. Before rational Mac could be overruled by horny Mac however, the car slid to a stop.
Mac had his eyes half closed and Don was looking at Mac rather than the door, so neither realized that they had company until they heard a voice that was both surprised and familiar.
"Mac?" followed by an even more surprised, "Flack?"
Both men looked up to see Stella Bonasera, in a stunning black dress, standing in the entrance to the elevator car.
"Stella!" said Mac, his voice equally surprised.
"Is this where you tell me that this isn't what it looks like?" said Stella.
Don straightened up but kept his arms around Mac. "Actually, this is pretty much exactly what it looks like, Stel," he said, a grin on his face.
The doors started to close, but Stella put her hand out to stop them. "Should I wait for the next car or do you two need a chaperone?" she asked sweetly.
"Come on in," said Don. He let go of Mac and pulled Stella into a hug. "Good to see you, Stella," he said, warmly.
Mac too hugged Stella, "You're always welcome, you know that." He stepped back, "Even if you did desert us for New Orleans."
"Nearly four years, and only a card at Christmas," said Don, "But save a dance for me and I'll forgive you!"
"If you can tear yourself away from Mac long enough, it's a deal," said Stella, smiling.
"Well, Mac's not all that keen on dancing," said Don. In a mock whisper, he said to Stella, "But I'll get him up on the dancefloor at some point tonight, even if I have to carry him there!"
"I'm right here, you know," said Mac. Don wasn't entirely correct, thought Mac. It was less about him not liking dancing, it was more that dancing was one of those things that Mac felt highlighted the age difference between the pair of them. Not that he couldn't keep up with Don, whether it be on the dancefloor or chasing down criminals, but a part of him wondered just how long that would last. Mac pulled himself together and smiled at Don and Stella. "And I might just surprise you both on the dancefloor later."
Mac retrieved the tie and folded it up before putting it in his pocket. Rather than return to his original seat, he made his way around the edges of the dancefloor, nodding and smiling to the various members of his lab as he passed.
Finally, he made his way back to Sid, who was sitting in pride of place at a table on a slightly raised section of the function room. From his vantage point, Sid could see everything that was going on and was watching the dancefloor with amusement. Mac and Don had greeted him earlier, as had all the guests as they'd arrived, but throughout the evening, people had come and gone from his side, each spending a little time in conversation with him, sharing stories, swapping memories. All of them surely wishing that this moment hadn't come to pass.
Now however Sid was at least momentarily unaccompanied, and Mac decided to take the opportunity to talk to him one on one.
"Mac Taylor," said Sid, raising his almost empty glass in greeting as Mac sat down beside him. "I hope you're enjoying this little shindig." He nodded towards the dance floor. "Don certainly seems to be having a good time."
Mac followed his gaze to where Don was dancing with his usual enthusiasm for physical activity. As Mac watched, Don grabbed Stella by the hand and spun her around, before Jo cut in and did a few steps with him of what was probably meant to be a tango but ended with the pair bumping into Hawkes and his partner Camille, laughing all the while.
"He does enjoy this sort of thing," said Mac.
"And you don't?" There was a twinkle in Sid's eye as he continued, "A good relationship doesn't mean you have to like the exact same things that your partner does. As long as there's enough about each other that you do both like. And from what Stella told me, you do seem to have a few things you like about each other."
Mac felt himself blushing slightly and quickly changed the subject, "So how are you doing, Sid?"
Sid sighed. "I've been better."
Four weeks earlier, Sid had publicly announced that he was going to resign his position as Medical Examiner. "I've enjoyed my work here, but I feel that I want a new challenge," he'd told everybody who would listen and many of those who didn't. He'd also told them of his intention to mark the occasion with a party and this everybody listened to.
The only people who had been told the real reason behind Sid's sudden decision had been Mac and Jo.
Sid had visited Mac in his office just before he'd made his announcement and had broken the news to him of the cancer diagnosis that he'd received several months prior. "The good news is that my Oncologist has enrolled me on a treatment regimen that, while it won't provide a cure, will however prolong my life considerably, and provide a meaningful quality of life at that," he'd told Mac. "The bad news is that, at least in the initial stages of the treatment, it is likely to prove quite debilitating."
"You don't have to retire," said Mac, "You can put in for medical leave, take as much time as you need…"
"No Mac," said Sid, interrupting him. "I've thought about this a lot. I have no way of knowing for how long I'll be affected, and the M.E's office doesn't need that kind of uncertainty," Sid replied. "I always said that I'd step away when I knew I couldn't do the job. No, it's better that I officially resign my position and allow my replacement to have free rein."
"If you're sure then." Mac didn't know what else to say as he sat across the desk from him, "Sid, if there's anything I can do, please just ask."
"Well, I do have one small request," said Sid, a half-smile on his face, "Just promise me that you won't say anything to anyone about the real reason I'm resigning. At least not until after the party. I want it to be a happy occasion, not a wake. Afterwards, well when the dust has settled a bit, you can use your discretion, but for now, I'd appreciate it not going any further."
"Of course," said Mac, frowning slightly.
"I'll be telling Jo the truth as soon as I see her," said Sid, as he stood to leave. "And of course, I don't mean you to keep secrets from Don."
In the end, Mac hadn't had to say much to Don about it. Don had seen the expression on Mac's face when he'd spoken of Sid's 'retirement' plans. "There's something Sid's not telling everybody, isn't there?" he'd asked straight out.
Mac had reluctantly confirmed Don's suspicions. "He's asked us not to mention it to anybody until after the party. He wants people to enjoy themselves."
"Well then, we'll give him a party to remember!"
Sid sighed. "I've been better." He straightened up in his seat, "But I've been worse as well. I might even get out on the dance floor and give Don a run for his money later on." He took a sip from his drink, "I've learned the hard way that I need to pace myself somewhat when it comes to physical exertions. Although that could be as much a consequence of my age as my condition."
"I know the feeling."
"Is that why you're not joining Don on the dance floor yet?"
"Well…that and the fact that I'm not really much of a dancer," said Mac, a wry smile on his face.
"I'm pretty sure that Don isn't overly concerned with your 'dancing' ability, at least not as it pertains to the vertical. Now the horizontal variety on the other hand." Sid winked at Mac.
"Doctor Hammerback!" Mac pretended shock at the comment but couldn't help but smile. He glanced at the dance floor again and could see that Don and Jo had moved to one side and were in deep conversation. "Well, it looks like Don's taking a breather, so I guess I'll have to wait for the next dance."
"Good, in that case you can get me a refill," said Sid, waving his by now empty glass.
Mac made his way through the busy room to the bar and quickly placed his order, a gin and tonic for Sid and a glass of wine for himself, which he intended to make last. He had more than one reason to want to remain sober that night.
"Hello Mac."
Mac nearly knocked over the glasses as he turned around to see Doctor Peyton Driscoll standing in front of him.
"Phew!" said Jo, fanning herself with her hand as she and Don stood by the side of the dance floor. "I haven't that much fun on the dance floor in a long time!"
"You're a natural out there," said Don.
"You ain't seen nothing yet, kiddo!" said Jo, "Just let me get my breath back and we'll give it another go." She watched Don's eyes scanning the crowd, "Unless there's somebody else you want to take for a spin?"
"Nah, I'm good," said Don, "The night's still young, plenty of time for Mac to join us."
"Hmm," Jo looked around and saw Mac over by the bar. "Who's that woman he's talking to over there? I don't recognize her from the lab."
Don followed her gaze to where Mac was talking to Peyton, "It looks like Peyton. Doctor Driscoll. She's a Medical Examiner, used to work with Sid back in the day." He paused and then added almost offhandedly, "Oh, and she dated Mac for about a minute back then as well. Hey, maybe she's planning on taking over from Sid, picking up where she left off in the morgue."
Jo was watching Peyton's body language intently, "Maybe that's not all she's planning on picking up on."
Don's eyes narrowed slightly as he watched Peyton put her hand on Mac's cheek. "Jo," he said with studied innocence, "Can I get you a drink?"
A look of understanding passed between them, "Of course," said Jo. "Just a glass of water for me. Thanks Don." She watched with interest as Don made his way to the bar area.
"I had to fly over to attend a seminar this week, so I was delighted to be able to make it to Sid's party," said Peyton. "I'm going to be in the city for a few more days. Perhaps we could meet up for lunch tomorrow…for old times' sake." She reached out and caressed Mac on the cheek.
Mac sighed, "Peyton…I'm in a relationship at the moment." He watched as her face fell slightly.
"Oh…I see. Is it serious?"
Mac smiled involuntarily, "Yes, very much so."
Peyton forced a smile onto her face, "Well, whoever she is, she's one lucky woman." She took a breath, "Am I going to get to meet her tonight?"
Before Mac could properly format an answer, he heard Don's voice coming from behind him.
"Peyton, good to see you?" said Don, with genuine warmth in his voice. "You having a good time?" Without waiting for an answer, he turned to Mac, "So, when are you going to get your ass on that dancefloor?"
"You do know that I'm not much of a dancer," said Mac.
Don turned back to Peyton, "He's been saying all along that he's got two left feet, but I can personally vouch for the fact that he's got one right and one left at the ends of his legs." He held up both hands to illustrate. "And don't you go saying that you've got no rhythm, Mac. I've heard you play bass, and yeah, that's your hands, not your feel, but if youze could learn to march in step, you've got enough rhythm in your feet to strut your stuff on the dancefloor. So, you are gonna get on that dancefloor before the clock strikes midnight, even if I have to carry you there myself."
"Promises promises," said Mac, smiling back at Don.
Don leaned in and cupped Mac's cheek in his hand as he planted a big sloppy kiss on his lips. Mac caught Don's hand and held it against his face for a few seconds before letting it go. "Later yeah?" said Don, softly. Mac nodded.
Don pulled away, "Good to see you, Peyton." He retrieved his drinks from the bar and walked away, and there was a definite swagger to his steps as he walked, knowing that Mac would be watching him.
Peyton watched Mac's face as he watched Don leave. "You know, there was a time you used to look at me like that," she said, a little wistfully.
"I'm sorry, Peyton," said Mac.
Peyton brushed it off, "You have nothing to be sorry for, Mac Taylor. Don is a good man, and I hope he knows how lucky he is to have you."
"He tells me as much almost every day," said Mac, "But in all honesty, I'm the lucky one."
Peyton forced a smile on her face, but inwardly she was half wishing that she'd declined her invitation and just sent a gift.
The smile faded slightly from Don's face as he walked back towards Jo.
He had mixed feelings about Doctor Peyton Driscoll. On the one hand, she had made Mac happy back while they'd been seeing each other. That had been obvious to anybody who'd seen them together. Don hadn't known Mac before the towers fell, hadn't know him before he'd had his heart and soul broken up into pieces.
But when Mac had been with Peyton, it had been the happiest Don had seen him outside of successfully completing a lab experiment. Peyton had been the one to put that smile back on Mac's face, to help put his heart back together again.
But on the other hand, Peyton had broken Mac's heart when she'd decided to stay in merrie old England rather than returning to New York. And even back then, Don had known Mac well enough to know that the guy didn't have a whole lot of unbroken pieces left of it.
Don returned to Jo and handed her her drink.
"Thanks Don," said Jo, taking a sip. "And nicely handled." She nodded towards the bar where Mac and Peyton had parted company.
"Don't know what you're talking about Jo," said Don, his face a picture of innocence. "I was just saying hello to an old acquaintance."
"And marking your territory quite effectively," said Jo. "But you do know that Mac only has eyes for you."
Don shrugged, "I know that, and you know that. Just making sure that Peyton knows that that as well."
A part of Don was wondering had he made the right move by staking his 'claim' to Mac so blatantly. He did trust Mac, he certainly trusted him with his life as had been evidenced on more than one occasion even before he'd trusted him with his heart as well. And he was sure that Mac would have shut down any attempts by Peyton to try and pick things up where they'd left off. Not that he would have blamed her for trying. Don knew that if he'd been foolish enough to let Mac slip through his fingers when he had him, well, he'd most definitely be doing everything in his power to get him back.
But what if seeing her again had given Mac pause for thought, wondered Don as he stared gloomily out onto the dance floor. What if Mac still harbored feelings for her and had only settled for a relationship with him because Peyton had been out of the picture. No, Don put that thought firmly from his mind. He knows that he loves Mac, and he knows that Mac loves him. Maybe it's not the same kind of love Mac had for Claire or Peyton, but it's real, because Don knows that Mac doesn't do things by halves and when he whispers 'I love you' into his ears, Don knows it's as true if Mac was testifying in court. Mac wouldn't have agreed moving in together if he hadn't been serious about their relationship. But what if they weren't right for each other. Just cause Mac liked opera better than hockey didn't mean that they weren't compatible, did it?
Jo saw the way Don's face clouded over and nudged him gently. "As soon as I've finished this, you can take me for another spin," she said.
"Yeah, maybe I've had enough dancing for now," said Don, forcing a smile.
"Oh dear," thought Jo. Looking around she saw Stella approaching them and breathed a sigh of relief. She'd only met Stella a few hours earlier, but they'd taken to each other immediately and Jo knew that if anybody could cheer Don up, it would be her.
Mac too was not unaware of what Don's intentions had been. He'd stayed chatting with Peyton for a few more minutes before retrieving the drinks and making his way back to Sid. A part of him was a little annoyed that Don had felt the need to make his point in such an obvious fashion. But then another part of him, and this inner voice had Don's tone to it, was reminding him of the look on Peyton's face when he'd told her he wasn't available. And yet another little voice was reminding him of just how good it had felt to have Don swooping in to rescue him, whether he'd needed it or not.
"I see that Peyton caught up with you," said Sid, as Mac handed him the glass. He took a sip "Ah, that hits the spot."
"She was looking for me?" asked Mac.
"Yes, I think she was going to ask you to dance. I probably should have told her it would be a wasted effort."
"Because of Don?"
"I think he managed to get that message across to her loud and clear," said Sid, "But no, I merely refer to your lack of interest in showing your moves on the dance floor."
The music faded away and the DJ's voice came over the speakers. "And now we have a special request. Up next is ABBA with 'Gimme gimme gimme a Mac after midnight…I'm sorry, the handwriting is a bit unclear, that's 'a Man after Midnight." The familiar beats of the music started coming through the speakers and Mac watched as Stella and Jo pulled Don back onto the dancefloor.
Mac looked at Sid with narrowed eyes. Sid looked back with studied innocence, "That young man doesn't care what moves you have or haven't got. Go to him."
Mac found himself on his feet and moving towards the dance floor.
Don was dancing with Jo and Stella. Danny, Lindsay, Hawkes and Camile were part of the group as well. As Mac approached, he saw Stella notice him and then nudge Jo. Whether by accident or design, they both pulled back slightly from Don until he was alone in a circle of his friends. The circle parted to let Mac through, and he stopped in front of Don. Don was flushed from his exertions. Sweat glistened on his brow and other places besides. His shirt flapped open at the neck, the tails hanging out and the sleeves rolled up. His face lit up when he saw Mac standing in front of him, and his smile only got wider as Mac started dancing.
In the absence of any moves of his own, Mac started echoing Don's steps and gestures. Initially a few seconds behind him, but by the second verse they were practically in sync, and by the last chorus their moves were almost complementing each other.
Mac had felt a little self-conscious to start with but as the music swelled in his head, all he could see was Don. By the time the last notes faded away, to be replaced with a more sedate beat, Mac was entwined in Don's arms. "Get your own 'Mac' after midnight," announced Don to all and sundry, "This one's mine!" He planted a kiss on Mac's lips.
"This song is more your tempo, yeah?" said Don, his arms around Mac as they slowly moved in time to the music.
"This is my tempo," said Mac, placing his hand over Don's heart. Don's hand fastened over his, squeezing it gently.
There was no need for any more words as they stayed on the dance floor until the slow set was over and the DJ announced that they were going to get things moving again. The dance floor – which had thinned out a bit as people had taken the opportunity for a breather – started to fill up again and Mac and Don were jostled a little as the pace of the dance quickened.
"Want to go somewhere a little less crowded?" asked Don.
Mac hesitated, not wanting to stop Don enjoying himself.
"It's okay," said Don, "Even I can't keep going all night with a break." He paused for a few seconds before continuing, "At least not on the dance floor!" he added, with a lewd grin. Wrapping his arm around Mac almost protectively, he steered his partner through the crowds until they'd reached the small alcove where Mac had left their jackets.
Don flopped down on the bank of seats in the alcove and stretched out. "Haven't done this much dancing in a long time," he said with a grin.
"Me neither," said Mac, sitting down beside Don who automatically draped his arm around Mac's shoulders. "It's been a good evening though."
"Yeah, we gave Sid a good sendoff all right." Don sighed heavily. "I just wish it coulda been different, you know, that he really was just retiring."
"I know," said Mac and they sat there in companionable silence.
A few hours later, Don again had his arm around Mac's shoulders as they made their way back to their hotel room. The party was still going on several floors below, although the numbers were by now considerably diminished. Sid had slipped away discretely after bidding farewell to Mac, Jo and a few of his closest colleagues and friends. His departure had cast somewhat a pall over the attendees who were aware of his condition and even Don hadn't felt much like dancing after that.
Jo had been the next one to call it a night, but not before making plans to meet Stella for lunch the next day.
"You can fill me in on all the gossip I've missed over the past few years," Stella had said with a grin.
"Oh honey, we'd need the whole day for that!" Jo had laughed, "But I'll give you the Cliffe notes, and you can tell me what these guys were like before I shook them up!"
Soon after that, Mac had suggested to Don that they too retire for the night. "Unless you want do a bit more dancing?"
"Nah, I'm good," said Don.
He'd seemed rather subdued, and Mac was having second thoughts about his plans for the rest of the night.
Mac hadn't told anyone, but he'd been giving serious thoughts to the status of his and Don's relationship the past few weeks. Sid's announcement had thrown a lot of things into focus for Mac, not least of which was what would happen if he or Don was faced with a similar health crisis. Mac knew that he would stand by Don no matter what, and he was sure that Don felt the same way. But he also knew that legal formalities were no respecters of love and without a legally recognized relationship, either one of them could be sidelined just when their partner needed them the most. Of course, there was more than one way to ensure that that couldn't happen. A medical power of attorney could easily be set up, but Mac wasn't sure that it was enough, at least not in his mind.
"In sickness and in health." The words had rattled around his head for days before Mac realized that while he knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Don, he wanted to make sure that the rest of the world knew that as well. Maybe a marriage certificate might just be a piece of paper, but it would be on record and as long as the city of New York remained standing, there would be tangible evidence that Mac Taylor had loved Don Flack enough to pledge the rest of his life to him.
Mac had initially planned to propose in their hotel room before the party. He knew that Sid wouldn't mind if the announcement of an engagement overshadowed his retirement party. But they'd been later arriving than Mac had planned, and he hadn't wanted to rush things. A public proposal during the party had also crossed his mind, but even though he loved Don and had made no secret of their relationship, Mac still was hesitant of making them the center of attention. Besides, Mac didn't want to put Don on the spot and make him feel that he *had* to say yes so as not to spoil the mood.
The quiet interlude after their dance might have been an appropriate time, but Stella and Jo had joined them in their seats, and they'd spent the rest of the evening chatting and catching up.
Now as Mac escorted a swaying Don back to their room, he wondered if maybe he should wait until morning. Not that Don was drunk. He'd been as careful as Mac was with regard to his consumption of alcohol, but he was full of the party atmosphere and maybe not in the best state of mind for serious decision making.
Don yawned again as they entered the hotel room. Letting go of Mac, Don dropped the jacket he'd been carrying onto a chair, stumbled over to the bed, and collapsed backwards onto it, his arms splayed wide.
"No shoes on the bed," said Mac automatically, as he picked up the jacket, smoothing it out before hanging it up. His own jacket soon joining it.
"Yes 'mom'," said Don, but he pulled at the laces half-heartedly before giving up and toeing off the shoes and letting them fall to the floor. Sitting up on the bed, he watched as Mac retrieved two bottles of water from the mini-fridge and tossed one over to him. "Thanks," said Don as he opened it and drank deeply. "Ah, I needed that."
"I know," said Mac. He turned away from Don and opened the suitcase to retrieve his wash bag.
"You know, we should do this again sometime," said Don.
"Dance the night away?" said Mac, only half listening. He put his hand in his pocket and felt the outlines of a small card. When he'd made the decision to propose to Don, he'd tried to write a speech to give. But somehow the words just wouldn't come. Finally, after many many attempts, the only words that Mac had been able to write were 'I love you' on one side of the card, and 'marry me' on the other.
"Well maybe that too." He heard Don say, "But I was thinking even just you know this, book a hotel room, cozy up inside it for a while with nobody to bother us until morning."
"And what occasion would it be for?"
"Maybe a honeymoon?" There was the sound of movement and a muffled thump.
Mac froze for a second before slowly turning around. In front of him, Don was down on one knee, swaying slightly, but his eyes were focused on Mac.
"Mac Taylor, we've been through a lot together over the years," said Don, "Some good stuff, some not so good. These last few months with you though, have been pretty damn good. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, through the good and the bad." He took a deep breath before continuing, "Marry me, Mac?" He held his hand out towards Mac.
Mac was rarely at a loss for words, but Don's proposal left him dumbstruck for a few seconds. "Where were you when I was trying to write a speech," he said without thinking. Mac saw a frown appear on Don's face and quickly pulled the card out of his pocket, dropping to his knees in front of Don and handing it to him.
Don's frown was quickly replaced by a smile as he read the words on the card. "You were going to propose?"
"I was trying to work up to it all night," admitted Mac. "I just couldn't find the right time…or the right words…"
"There's only one word you need to say now, Mac," said Don, softly as he reached out and cupped Mac's cheek. "Because there's only one word I want to say to you."
"Yes," whispered Mac, turning his head and kissing Don on the wrist. He reached out and pulled Don closer, kissing him a second time on the lips. "Yes." Mac felt Don's arms snake around his waist, and they ended up in a tangle of limbs on the floor.
Some time later, two somewhat disheveled men were sitting up against the foot of the bed. Mac leaned against Don, who had his arms wrapped around him as if he never wanted to let him go again. He kissed the top of Mac's head. "You know we're a couple of idiots," he said.
"How so?" asked Mac, lazily as he stroked Don's arm.
"Well, we're sitting on the floor making out when we've got a king size bed to play around in."
Mac couldn't help but laugh.
"You won't be laughing when you're too stiff to move in the morning because you fell asleep on the floor."
"I'll be fine, I've got a nice comfy pillow to lean against," said Mac, shifting position against Don's chest.
"Yeah, well I'm up against the footboard and let me tell you, it could do with more padding, and much as I love a good huddle with youze no matter where we are, I'd much rather be doing it in the bed not beside it. And besides, no way are we leaving tomorrow without having tested out the bed so come on, up and at 'em." Don kissed Mac again and the two men disentangled themselves and stood up.
Later, much later, when the bed had been thoroughly tested to Don's satisfaction, he lay sprawled face down on the mattress, his head pillowed on his folded arms.
"So is the bed satisfactory?" asked Mac, as he switched off the light and slid down the bed until he was level with Don.
"Mmm, oh yeah," said Don, yawning slightly, "But it's not really the bed," he mumbled before twisting around until he could look Mac in the eye. "It's the company." He reached out and clasped Mac's hand. "In king sized beds or a futon. On 1,000 thread count sheets or bare boards. Doesn't matter as long as I'm with you."
"I know," said Mac, as he brought Don's hand to his lips and kissed it.
"But maybe if we do a wedding registry, we put some 1,000 thread count sheets on the list, hmmm?"
Mac laughed. "Anything you say, Don, anything you say."
The End