A/N: One more chapter for you because I ate way too much sugar today and can't sleep. Future updates probably won't be coming this quickly, though...Monday the new semester starts at school, and I'm back to being a math teacher for a while ;)

He knew something was different the moment he walked into her apartment.

The analytical part of Mac's brain automatically stepped up and began trying to figure out what it was. His eyes swept Stella's living room as he pulled his coat off and handed it to her, and continued sweeping when he followed her over to the couch.

"Mac?" she asked, noticing his attention was elsewhere. "You okay?"

He shook his head as if to clear the cobwebs from his mind and smiled apologetically. His intent observation had not been very subtle. "Sorry. I just can't seem to turn my brain off."

Stella grinned. She had recognized the expression on his face and knew he was trying to solve some puzzle that he wasn't able to let go of. "It's okay," she told him with a wink. "You wouldn't be Mac Taylor if you weren't trying to solve the mysteries of the universe."

She rose from the couch and sauntered into the kitchen, leaving Mac alone with his thoughts.

I've been here millions of times, he reflected. Stella's made dozens of dinners for me…so what's different about this one?

He watched her putter around the kitchen, a small smile perched on her lips as she pulled ingredients from the cupboards, her hair bouncing as she moved, and shook his head faintly. He was never going to figure out what was going on if he kept focusing on Stella.

Mac stood and made his way into the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe. "Need any help?" he asked. If he couldn't solve his mystery, then the least he could do was lend a hand with the meal.

"Yeah," Stella replied. "C'mere and chop this garlic."

He took the knife she handed him and noticed a tingle where her fingers brushed against his. His heartbeat quickened slightly and he hurriedly turned his attention to the garlic. What's going on with me today?

He chopped carefully, watching her stir the cream sauce she was making out of the corner of his eye, still puzzling over the difference of this visit.

"Okay, Mac, this is ready for the garlic," she informed him, interrupting his ruminations.

"Right." She moved aside and he threw the garlic into the saucepan. "Enough?"

She shook her head with a twinkle in her eye. "More."

"More?" he questioned. He had dumped a fair amount of garlic into the pan already.

She nodded. "More. I have some mints in my purse if you're planning on kissing me later," she laughed.

He chuckled, chopping another half-clove of garlic as an image floated through his mind of Stella's lips meeting his. The sensation of her breath against his skin that accompanied the vision was so real his knife faltered and he narrowly missed chopping his finger off.

"Whoa Mac! What's up with you tonight?" she smirked, taking his hand in hers and inspecting it for cuts. Finding none she released it, allowing him to toss the remaining garlic into the saucepan.

"I don't know," he told her, marveling at the fact that he could still feel her hands on his, gently probing, carefully checking for injury, even after she let go. "Maybe I better do something that doesn't involve sharp implements."

Stella laughed. "Wanna set the table? Plates are over there…" she pointed to the cupboard over her head.

"Good idea," he replied with a chagrined smile. He reached above her and flipped open the cabinet door, grabbing two plates and cautiously pulling them out without hitting her on the head.

She giggled at his watchfulness and patted him on the shoulder as he passed her on his way to the table. "Nicely done."

Mac stopped cold for just a fraction of a second, the circuits of his mind on the verge of overloading at her touch combined with the hint of perfume that tickled his nose. His legs carried him to the table on autopilot, and his hands placed the plates in front of the chairs without a conscious thought. When his brain finally did restart itself, he had only one coherent thought.

Stella never wears perfume at the lab…

The rest of the evening was a blur for him, a jumble of sparkling eyes and soft skin and brilliant smiles. They ate, they laughed, they talked, they settled on the couch after dinner and watched some cheesy movie on TV. And through it all, Mac could only focus on Stella.

By the time he left her apartment that night, his senses were thoroughly wrung out. He climbed into the driver's seat of his car and sat still for a moment, trying to make his head stop spinning.

"Wow," he said out loud to himself. "That's the first time I've ever felt like that around Stella. That's the first time I've felt that way at all in a long time. Not since…" his voice trailed off as he tried to remember the last time he had felt so mentally breathless around a person. Then it clicked. "Not since Claire."

Was that it? Was he really saying that Stella made him feel the way Claire had?

"That can't be right…"

But it was. He had finally solved the mystery. It wasn't exactly the same feeling Claire had given him, but it was similar enough that he recognized it for what it was. He had always cared for Stella—they had been close friends almost from the day they met—but never did he imagine her as a romantic interest. Yet here he was, desperately trying to make his mind work normally again after an evening spent in close proximity with her, something that had only ever happened to him when he fell in love with Claire.

He shook his head and turned the key in the ignition. He couldn't be in love with Stella. He wasn't ready for a relationship with anyone—his date with Rose the previous week had taught him that. He shook his head again, trying to clear the cobwebs from his brain, and pulled out of his parking space as he tried to banish any romantic thoughts of his friend and partner.

But when the sound of her voice resonated in his mind's ear

"I have some mints in my purse if you're planning on kissing me later."

he smiled happily.