Thanks to Meisha, for betaing and for stopping me from packing it all in.
K . I . A
(killed. in. action.)
-- chapter two --
Stella had a problem. There had been a breakthrough in the case she and Aiden had been working, and they'd managed to solve the case that afternoon – but she'd left work an hour and a half later than planned, leaving her barely an hour and fifteen minutes to shower, change clothes and catch her breath before Mac picked her up.
She showered on autopilot, not giving herself the chance to savour the scalding water beating down on her tense shoulders. She jumped out of the shower, cursing to herself in Greek as she wrapped a towel around herself and walked back to her bedroom. She flung open her wardrobe and grabbed several items of clothing, throwing them all down on her bed before choosing a dress. In her frustration, she managed to catch a lock of hair in the zipper and yelped. A tiny ball of fur bolted from its hidden place on her bed and fled the room in shock. Stella laughed tersely, before stepping out of the dress and choosing another one – simple and black, falling just below her knees and flattering her figure in all the right places. It had double spaghetti straps – two on each side – and a zip at the side, not the back, so it didn't catch her hair.
She teamed the dress with a black woollen cardigan and a pair of black sandals with diamond-encrusted straps. Her jewellery was simple: a simple silver chain with a heart pendant falling from it, and matching bracelets and earrings. Her silver watch was clipped around her wrist before she applied pale purple eye shadow and black mascara.
She dried her hair quickly and pinned it back with a silver hair slide before glancing at her watch. Ten minutes to spare.
"Nice going, Bonasera." She chuckled to herself. She grabbed her black purse from a cupboard and transferred her keys, cellphone and money into it, along with makeup and, after hesitating for a moment, her NYPD badge for ID – just in case. She never left the house without it.
She hovered around the door, anxious for Mac's arrival – she came home determined not to let nerves get the better of her, but so far she'd failed miserably. Three and a half minutes later – she glanced at her watch every few seconds, counting the movements of the second hand – she returned to her room, threw open her closet and pulled out a pair of shoes with smaller heels. 'Heeled boots are all very well,' she told herself, throwing the first pair of shoes back into her closet. 'But heeled sandals will break my ankles.'
She returned to the door to find her cat looking very lost.
"What'cha doing, Jesobel?"
Jesobel pounced as soon as Stella's feet stopped moving, and she twisted herself around Stella's ankles, patting her feet with her paws. Four minutes later, having checked the mirror three times, changed her earrings twice and banished Jesobel to the living room, Stella found herself breathing deeply in order to stay calm as she opened the door.
Mac stood on the other side, looking much like she saw him every day – albeit without a tie, and with a rose in his hand. His jaw dropped when he saw her and he blushed, suddenly feeling shy as he handed her the flower and told her she looked beautiful.
She kissed him gently, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding him close.
"You ready to go?"
Stella picked up her purse from the table and nodded, taking his proffered hand and locking the door behind her as she left her apartment. The night was a clear one; the air crisp and cool, yet warm enough not to bother with coats. They walked slowly, hand in hand, the comfortable silence saying more than words ever could.
The restaurant looked decent enough: decorated tastefully with low lighting and soft music playing in the background. Stella stood quietly and looked up at the sign over the door. Her hand was still in Mac's, but he knew that if it wasn't, she'd be fidgeting and toying with the strap of her purse.
"You're not hungry, are you?"
Sheepishly, Stella looked down at her shoes, wondering how Mac could always see right through her. She reminded herself that she can see right through him, too, and so they're both even in that respect, but she couldn't help but wish that this time, he didn't know her quite so well.
She didn't dare look up, although she told herself she was being stupid, just apologised self-consciously.
"I'm not hungry either," he admitted, taking her hand. She looked up, a smile gracing her features. "Wanna take a walk instead?"
They walked through the park for a while, her hand never leaving his. It was when they reached Strawberry Fields that they stopped. Mac snaked his arm around Stella's waist and held her close, looking up at the clear sky and pointing out constellations.
"There. That's Orion's Belt. Can't usually see it in the city, too much light pollution."
"That thing? With the big bright twinkly thing?" Stella pointed where Mac had pointed just a minute before, squinting a little.
"They're stars, Stella."
"Yeah, I got that."
Mac turned to her and smiled; realising that, had it been anyone else asking that question, he'd have been more than just a little exasperated.
"What's that?"
"That's a plane, Stella."
"I never claimed to be an astronomer…"
"You're incredible."
"I know."
"Could we skip the part where you tease me about being modest, and—"
He cut her off by pressing his lips against hers and her only thought as she wound her arms around his neck was 'Dammit, he's reading my mind again.'