A/N: So this is it, the end of the world as we know it...or at least, the end of Firsts as we know it ;-) This is as far as I've gotten in my mind with Mac and Stella, so this is where the story must end. I also have another fic burning a hole in my brain, and with school still in full swing, I only have time to write one at a time. Never fear, though--our favorite couple will be making appearances in the new fic (called Hanging By A Moment and coming soon to a computer near you), and there are already rumblings in my head of a possible sequal to Firsts, so stay tuned!

A/N 2: I can't say good-bye without giving all of you a big, huge, happy-happy-joy-joy, jumping up and down with excitement thank you! The reviews have been wonderful--absolutely amazing! You guys sure know how to send a girl on a serious ego trip, lol. But if you had half as much fun reading as I did writing, then you are in a very good place because I had a blast. And I can't wait to do it again :-P

He awoke to the sound of quiet breathing in his ear and the rustle of bouncy curls on the pillow beside him. Mac smiled without opening his eyes, turning over and wrapping an arm around the woman snuggled up against his back. Her scent tickled his nose and he slid a hand over the soft skin of her arm, pulling her close to him and nuzzling her neck gently enough not to wake her just yet.

He thought about getting out of bed and wandering into the kitchen to start breakfast, knowing what kind of eater Stella was and how sexy she thought he was when he did anything domestic. His smile widened, eyes still closed, as he pictured the look on her face when she found him flipping pancakes at her stove dressed in her bathrobe. But then she shifted a little next to him, a small sigh escaping her red lips, turning him into a puddle of helpless goo.

Breakfast can wait, he decided, planting a tender kiss on her shoulder. I'm not leaving this bed without her.

He lay there for almost an hour, holding her in his arms, absorbing the heat emanating from her body, listening to the peaceful rhythm of her breathing, taking in every detail of her beautiful face with his hungry eyes as the sunlight tried to break through the heavy material of her curtains. He felt relaxed lying next to her, closer to happy than he had been in a very long time.

Lying beside Stella, Mac felt at home.

Finally she began to stir, the pattern of her breathing altering slightly as she came back to consciousness, her head turning to bury itself in his shoulder away from the light. He grinned and pulled her more tightly against him, kissing her neck as he slid a hand through her hair.

"Good morning, beautiful," he whispered in her ear.

She mumbled something in reply, but her face was still pressed against his shoulder and her words were muffled.

"What?" he asked, drawing back a bit so he could hear her more clearly.

She lifted her eyes to his and smiled sleepily. "I said, 'I don't want it to be morning'," she repeated.

"Why not?"

Stella's hand glided slowly across his back, noticing that her heart beat just a little bit faster as her fingers encountered his strong, defined muscles. "Because," she said, "that would mean last night was over with."

Mac blushed—actually felt the warmth creeping up into his cheeks—and focused on her lips instead of her eyes. "It also means that another night is coming."

"I like the way you think," she laughed, leaning in to kiss him.

The pair remained cuddled up together in bed for a few moments longer before being rousted by the buzzing of Stella's alarm clock.

"Time to get up," she sighed.

He nodded and kissed her again. "The world is waiting."

They reluctantly dragged themselves out of bed, Stella pulling Mac's shirt on over her bare shoulders, giggling as Mac slipped into her fuzzy purple robe. His arm snaked around her waist and she leaned against him, allowing him to lead her into the kitchen. She kissed him briefly as they parted, opening a cupboard to take out a box of cereal. Before she could, though, his large hand came to rest on her shoulder.

"I think we can do better than that," he told her in a low voice, his lips brushing against her ear as he spoke.

She laughed at the butterflies fluttering around in her stomach and turned to face him. "You do know we have to be at work by four this afternoon…"

"Why does that matter?" he asked, genuinely puzzled.

"Because," she purred, wrapping her arms around him, "it may take us all day just to get through breakfast."

He chuckled, nuzzling her neck as his mind wandered over the possible ways they could spend their time before their shift began. Don't look now, Taylor, a little voice inside his head smirked, but I think you've loosened up.

He chuckled again and kissed Stella, long, deep, and slow, leaving her breathless and stunned when he drew away.

"Wow," she breathed, her eyes still closed to savor the feeling of his mouth on hers.

Mac grinned. "Now why don't you have a seat here," he suggested, guiding her over to the kitchen table and sitting her down in one of the chairs, "and I'll get breakfast."

He turned from her and headed back into the kitchen, pulling open the refrigerator and retrieving a carton of eggs. Stella's eyes followed him as he moved to the pantry for the loaf of bread, the fuzzy purple robe swishing with him as he worked. He bent down to get a frying pan from one of the lower cupboards and she found herself leaning a bit to her right for a better view, laughing silently at herself for checking him out.

In no time flat, Mac had the frying pan loaded with French toast and stood over the stove, diligently scrutinizing his projects as they turned various shades of brown. Stella sat and watched him concentrate on the food with the same focus he had when examining evidence, the expression and intensity she found so attractive. She smothered a smile as a rather irreverent thought floated through her mind.

Breakfast isn't the only yummy thing around here this morning, she giggled to herself. Who knew Mac looked so good in a purple women's bathrobe?

He carefully flipped the pieces of French toast over one by one and Stella rose from her chair, sidling up next to him and brushing a hand over the fluffy material that covered his arm. He grinned and continued to mind the frying food while draping his free arm around her, bringing a blissful smile to her lips.

Standing there with Mac, Stella felt at home.