AN: This is my first CSI:NY fic, so constructive critisism welcome.
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They were the one thing she was scared of.
She tried to avoid them at all costs.
And then one day, she came across them twice.
If only someone was there to help her…
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She arrived late at her apartment that night after a pretty stressful day. She had had to come in close contact with a tarantula. She shivered at the memory.
Still, thought Stella as she pulled her coat off her shoulders and threw it onto the sofa, the day was over. No more spiders. Time for a relaxing shower or something to help her unwind…
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She changed into a bathrobe in her bedroom and then headed for the bathroom. Her bare feet padded on the tiled floor and she barely made a sound. She was about to start running a bath when something made her scuttle backwards, putting as much space between her and the tub as was possible.
Stella leant against the wall, breathing quite heavily. Her heart was beating quickly and her eyes were fixed on the bath.
In her bath was a spider big enough to rival any tarantula (or at least it seemed like that to Stella).
Great, now I can't take a bath or a shower and I won't be able to sleep because I know there's a spider in here and then I'll be grouchy in the morning because I won't have had a shower and I won't have slept and…
There was only one thing for it. She would have to get rid of it. She took a few deep breaths before going into her kitchen to look for the equipment she would need: a glass and a postcard. She was about as ready as she would ever be to face the spider, so she headed for the bathroom.
It was still there, glaring up at her as she towered over it. It looked as if it would have a smug expression on its face, if it had a face. It would be sticking its tongue out and blowing raspberries at Stella, taking pleasure from staring her half to death.
Well not anymore.
Slowly, ever so slowly, Stella lowered the glass down over the spider. She expected it to go berserk as soon as she put the glass near it, but luckily, it didn't. Moments later, it was safely imprisoned under the glass.
Stella breathed a sigh of relief. It was still in the bath, but she was one step closer to dropping it out of the window.
Unfortunately, the hard part was next to come…
On the table in Stella's kitchen was a postcard that showed a scene of a beach in Barbados. It was perfect for the job.
Looking more determined than she felt, the postcard clutched in her hand, Stella headed to the bathroom. It was still there, under the glass, staring at her.
But it was sitting still. That was one good thing at least.
Stella knelt down and put her hands into the bath, reaching for the glass. Her right hand was on top of it and the other was holding the postcard, and shaking like a leaf.
Ever so slightly, she tilted the glass a tiny fraction, just enough to slide the postcard underneath without letting the spider escape.
Gently, gently…
When the corner of the postcard was poking out from the other side of the glass, Stella released a sigh of relief. The spider was making her more stressed than any week could, working at the crime lab.
When her breathing had returned to normal, she started to prepare herself for the final, and hardest part of "operation: spider removal".
She opened one of the windows in her lounge before returning to the bathroom again.
All you have to do is carry the glass and the postcard to the window… that's it. It isn't that hard!
One hand firmly grasped the postcard by its edges and the other one held the glass.
Slowly, ever so slowly, Stella began to lift. She had almost cleared the bath when disaster struck.
The spider, imprisoned between the glass and the paper, started to go crazy. It climbed up the glass, fell back down, waved its legs in the air, climbed again, fell again, ran around in circles and generally acted like a hummingbird on speed.
This caused Stella to jump in fright.
She hadn't been expecting that and it scared her. It was as if the spider was about to break the glass or rip through the postcard and crawl up her arm.
That thought rushed through Stella's head and, in shock, she dropped the glass.
She watched it fall, as the spider and the glass and the postcard became separate objects. The spider waved frantically, trying to stop itself falling, but with no prevail.
The glass hit the bath with a sickening crash and there was silence for a second, before Stella bolted from the room, slamming the door behind her.
Stupid, stupid, stupid! It's not going to break out of the glass! But now it has!
She paced up and down outside the closed bathroom door for about quarter of an hour, weighting up her options.
She could go in there with another glass and try again.
She could leave it and hope that it left of its own accord.
She could risk being taunted forever and a day and call someone for help.
Well, there's no way I'm trying that again. I only have so many glasses. And I don't know how long I could hold a stakeout on a spider.
That left her with only one option. Call someone.
But who?
Not Danny; she'd never hear the end of it.
The new girl maybe? She came from Montana so maybe she'd cope.
Sheldon had been pretty good with the tarantula in the lab…
Stella smacked her forehead when she realised that the answer had been staring her in the face.
Mac.
He was a great friend and she didn't know him to be scared of anything, let alone a spider. And he wouldn't tell everyone else in the lab either.
Stella picked up her cell and punched his number.
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Ten minutes later, there was a soft knock at the door.
Stella had been pacing outside the bathroom while she waited, biting the skin around her fingernails.
She rushed to the door and flung it open, ushering Mac in.
She had forgotten that she had changed into her bathrobe earlier and suddenly a blush rose to her cheeks as she noticed Mac's eyes on her. The plunging V-neck of the robe where the two sides crossed over was showing a little too much chest for her liking and she pulled at the tie-cord sheepishly.
"Thanks um… thanks for coming over," she muttered, not making eye contact with Mac.
"Not a problem," he told her. He was obviously uncomfortable too, being with Stella when she was dressed so… meagrely.
His tone was business-like when he broke the awkward silence that had settled between them.
"Could you fetch me a glass please?"
Stella scuttled off to the kitchen and she could still feel Mac's eyes on her retreating back.
Maybe I should have got changed before he came…
She was stood on tip-toes and reaching up to fetch a glass from the top cupboard when Mac came to the threshold of the kitchen. Her robe had ridden up her thighs when she lifted her arms and the hem was now showing over half of her thighs.
Mac tried to look away, but for some reason, he didn't want to.
He drank in the picture that he saw in front of him: Stella's long legs, her hair skimming over her shoulders, her slender arms that stretched out of her pale blue robe, her intense brown eyes…
"Mac?"
She had turned around and seen Mac staring at her. Her expression was a mixture of anger and surprise and she was blushing again.
But saying that Stella was blushing was an understatement. Mac was extremely embarrassed at being caught looking at Stella and had turned a shade to rival any beetroot.
"I'll get that spider," he said, taking the glass that Stella had just fetched. She watched him leave, her mouth slightly open in shock. She was a bit angry as well, but mostly shocked.
Did I just catch Mac Taylor checking me out?
She glanced incredulously around her kitchen.
I did… He was… Oh god…
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Stella was still in her kitchen, leaning against the countertop when Mac came back a minute later, after getting rid of the spider. She was chewing the skin around her fingernail again, like she always did when she was nervous.
Mac came in and Stella took her hand away from her mouth, ready to speak.
"Would you like a drink? Wine?"
As soon as she'd said it she regretted it because she would have to get a glass out of the top cupboard again and with Mac in the room…
"Yeah, that'd be great actually," he replied.
Dammit.
In truth, Mac didn't care much for the drink, but he knew that Stella would have to fetch glasses and that was a sight he wanted to see again. She was a co-worker, so Mac was mentally smacking himself for how he was behaving, but he was human after all.
Stella went to get the wine first, but that was another bad decision.
Why did I offer wine? I keep the wine in the bottom cupboard, so now I have to bend down!
With a sigh, she crouched down in front of the cupboard.
"Red or white?"
"Red please," Mac replied.
Stella stood up with a bottle in hand and set it on the counter before heading to the cupboard where she kept her wine glasses.
Dammit.
Only then did she remember that the wine glasses were kept at the back of the cupboard and she couldn't reach them from the ground. Usually she performed some less-than-graceful acrobatics to climb onto the counter and reach them from there. But normally she was wearing something a little less revealing and didn't have company.
She was just thinking how useful a stepladder would be at that moment in time when she felt a hand on her forearm.
"I'll fetch them," Mac said simply.
Mac stood on tiptoes and Stella watched as he fetched a wine glass from the back of the cupboard. Her arm was almost burning were he had touched her… and she couldn't work out why.
It wasn't as if she had ever felt like that about him before…
Or had she?
Well, he is attractive… and a very good friend… a good friend that perhaps, wants more… oh god…
Stella worked on auto-pilot as she poured the wine. The thoughts running through her head were slightly worrying, but not unwelcome.
She handed Mac his glass and their eyes met for a moment, in while Stella grinned a little.
He has nice eyes…
When Stella had passed the glass to Mac, their hands brushed a little.
"Stella, you're bleeding," Mac said suddenly. He took her hand and held it up; indeed one of her fingers was bleeding, around the fingernail where she had been chewing it.
"Oh that's nothing!" Stella said, with a little laugh.
"Are you sure?" Mac asked suspiciously. "You could have cut it earlier when you broke that glass in the bathroom and not noticed."
"No, it's fine."
"I really think you should put a band aid on it or something. Come on."
Mac took her hand and pulled her gently to the bathroom.
Stella, touched by his concern, allowed him to lead her and sit her down on the toilet lid, while protesting that it was unnecessary.
"I don't need this! It's only a little cut!"
Mac ignored her. "Band aids?"
"Top shelf of the cabinet. But I really don't need one!"
Mac silenced her by putting a finger gently to her lips; Stella was too stunned to say another word, alarmed by the sudden contact.
Mac knelt down so his head was level with Stella's hand while she was sitting. They sat in silence while Mac bandaged her finger.
When the band aid was secure, he decided to take a risk. He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed the finger with the band aid around the tip.
Okay, my earlier question answered. He definitely wants to be more than friends! But hey! So do I!
Keeping eye contact the whole time, Stella slid off the toilet lid so she was kneeling on the bathroom floor in front of Mac. She decided to approach him slowly, but Mac had other ideas. His hands ran up her arms and then around her neck and across her back, pulling him closer to him.
When their lips finally made contact, the whole situation intensified. The kisses became more passionate and Mac's hands on Stella's shoulders held tighter with every passing second.
The robe started slipping off Stella's shoulders, but she didn't notice.
Even if she did, showing too much cleavage to a co-worker would no longer be a worry.