Laura is awesome beyond words, seriously. Thank you for the beta. And the Mark/Susan fic. And for letting me ramble like a goon. And - hell, just thank you.

New season of NY began last night, YEAHbaby the kids are back, it's crazy love. Mac and Stella are crazy love, like woah.

Gotta love Danny and Aiden's cameo in this. Kudos to the tequila for making them so much fun to write. Yay.

Concrit is appreciated, praise is loved and Gary Sinise for my birthday in two months? I will love you forever. Hey, a girl can dream - right?

Love & cookies

S xxx

She fought back a gasp. He was stood in the open doorway to her apartment, pleading with her to let him love and adore her. For a minute she thought he was drunk, but she smelled no alcohol on his breath. His eyes were perfectly clear, and for the first time in a long time, she thought they bore a little of the sparkle they once held.

He took her hand – warm, soft, trembling ever so slightly - in his own, and kissed it.

"Mac, I – I… I don't…"

"Then don't say anything." He whispered. He stepped closer and brushed her hair off her neck. From now on, he wanted to be the one to kiss and caress the smooth expanse of skin there, he wanted to be the one to keep her safe.

He pulled her face towards him and brushed his lips over hers softly, once, twice, three times. He felt her weaken in his arms as he swept her up, but when he deepened the kiss, she returned it with passion, fury, the same fire he saw in her eyes every day when she threw a murderer into a prison cell.

He spun around and pinned her to the wall, pushing the door shut without letting his lips leave hers. He didn't answer his cellphone when it rang, he simply continued devouring her lips with his own. Her arms snaked around his neck, holding on for dear life, as his hands came to rest on her hips, toying with the hem of her soft cotton sweater and sliding his thumbs beneath it to draw lazy circles on the soft skin of her stomach.

The need for oxygen grew too strong and they broke apart. The apartment was silent, save for the heavy breathing. Without her heels he had an unfair height advantage when it came to many things, but it served in her favour when it enabled her to gaze up into his eyes. He leant down to rest his forehead against hers, reaching a hand up to brush away the tears making their way down her face with his thumb.

They stood like that for several minutes, heads resting together, eyes closed, her arms around his neck and his hands resting comfortably on her hips. Eventually she pulled away slightly, running her hand over his shoulder and down his arm. She grabbed his wrist gently and led him into the living room where he sat in the corner of the sofa. She sat beside him and turned so she was leaning against him, her back to his chest and her head resting on his collarbone. He wrapped his arms around her silently and she held his hands, clasped together on her stomach, between her own.

His cellphone rang again, and while he ignored it, she tilted her head up and whispered to him.

"You should answer that."

"It's not important."

"Could be…"

"Not more important than you."

"Damnit, Mac – just answer the goddamn phone, okay?" Her voice rose a little at this and she blushed, not used to the shower of attention and affection. Mac looked slightly startled and plucked his phone from his belt, flipping it open with one hand and holding it to his ear. His other hand remained on her stomach, where it slipped away from hers and stroked the expanse of skin between the waistband of her pants and the hem of her shirt that had risen up as she wriggled almost into his lap.

Moments later, he clicked his phone shut, a half smile on his face. Stella looked at him in shock, her body twisted uncomfortably so that she could lean against him and see his face.

"What did you just do?"

"I believe I just took the rest of the day off."

"Never had you down as one for irrational decisions." He gazed down at her as she settled back into her previous position. "Not that I'm complaining."

He lowered his head to drop a kiss on the top of hers and she sighed contentedly, holding his arms around her and caressing his hands with her thumbs.

"Mac?"

"Hmm?"

"What happens now?"

"I mean… are we together? Are we… what are we doing?"

"If it's what you want…"

"Y'know, you're not helping here."

"I want you to be happy, Stella. I want you to be comfortable with whatever happens." He didn't see the impish grin that crossed her face briefly before she turned around in his arms. Her face was barely inches from his.

"What about you? Will you be comfortable with this?"

She pressed her lips to his forcefully in a vigorous, passionate frenzy, tongues meeting and duelling erotically. Moments later she was straddling him on her sofa, her shirt somewhere on the other side of the room and his lips tracing a fiery pattern along her collarbone. She was deftly unbuttoning his shirt, her nimble fingers making light work of the task, before her fingers tangled in his hair and pulled his head up and met his protesting lips with her own.

x.x.x

She lay exhausted but happy, her head on his bare chest and his strong arms wrapped around her waist. She pulled the cotton sheet up over them and sighed.

"So, I guess we're together, then?" he chuckled quietly. She smiled as she felt his voice vibrate through his chest.

"I guess you could say that." Her tone softened as she shuffled closer, tilting her head to see his face. "Are you sure you're okay with this?"

"I meant what I said, Stel… I love you. You have to believe me when I say that…"

His eyes sparkled again, she noticed. They weren't quite up to the same brightness as they once were, but it was a start.

"I do believe you, Mac. I do. And… I love you. Always have. Always will." She reached up to kiss him, the fury and lust from earlier replaced entirely with passion and romance.

She rested her head on his collarbone and allowed her eyes to flutter closed. She fell asleep smiling, into the most restful sleep she'd had in four years. She knew his eyes would never sparkle in quite the same way again, but maybe, just maybe, she can give them a new sparkle.

x.x.x

She glanced up from the microscope and smiled coyly as he slipped through the glass doors.

"Dinner, tonight. Pick you up at eight?" he whispered, more of a statement than a question. He leaned over her shoulder to see through the scope himself. She looked at him briefly and grinned, her fingers discreetly finding his under the desk.

"This the bullet from the Winston shooting?"

"Bullet from the scene on the left, test fire from the gun we found on the right." She ducked out of his semi-embrace.

"Perfect match."

"This gun is definitely our murder weapon."

"Who's it registered to?"

"Nigel Winston."

"Our victim?"

"The very same. Shot with his own gun."

"Take Aiden, I want to know where he kept his gun, I want to know who had access to it. I want DNA and fingerprints from everyone who could have gotten hold of that weapon."

"I'm on it." She pushed herself off the counter she was leaning against and left the lab in search of Aiden Burn.

Aiden was sat in the break room with Danny Messer when Stella walked in. Both were nursing mugs of steaming coffee and glaring at each other.

"Good morning!" Stella chirped brightly, chucking at the obviously hungover pair. "Good night was it? What happened, I miss anything good?"

"Great night, tequila happened, and you missed a lot… but you clearly had your own fun elsewhere." Aiden retorted, indicating the glow on Stella's skin and the smile they'd never seen quite so wide. Stella tactfully avoided the comment.

"C'mon Aid, we got a job to do. Mac wants us to find out where Winston kept his gun and who had access to it."

"Gun was his?"

"And the murder weapon."

"Ugh."

"C'mon. Fresh air'll do you some good. Seeya, Danny."

"Fresh air makes my head hurt."

"Bummer!"

Aiden scowled.

TBC...