Chapter 17: You're My Best Friend
You're the best friend
that I ever had
I've been with you such a long time
You're my sunshine
Mac looked out of his office in the lab, a little uncomfortable at having a long-standing belief over-turned. A quiet lab was not necessarily a better one, he was discovering. Oh, it was as efficient as ever, but there was a feeling in the lab that he didn't like. A few weeks ago, it had felt as a fire was about the start; now it felt heavy and somehow damp, as if a fog of introspection and misery was smothering everyone.
Mac was not, contrary to popular belief, an ice-water-in-the-veins type of guy. He may be reserved, but he cared deeply for the people under his command. He watched and noticed more than anyone thought. He spent a lot of time worrying about the mental well-being of his team; no one knew better than he the damaging effect of too much horror and too little time to process it.
He had watched with a sort of bemused affection the growing relationship between his Stella and Don Flack, the young detective whose life he had saved. That act had somewhat absolved a load of guilt he had carried since Beirut, when one of his men had died in his arms. His time in the Marines had taught him many things, but it had never reconciled his agony over lives unnecessarily wasted.
That was another long-standing but unexamined belief, wasn't it – that she was his Stella. And yet, even Claire had always referred to her that way. One of his first recruits, one of his first picks for his new team, one of his first choices for any investigation. He knew every expression on her face, could read her from across the lab. Her contradictions, from ice-cold scientist to flaming fury in moments, were part of what Mac enjoyed about her most. She complemented him, and, since that day when his world collapsed like the Twin Towers, she and the job had become the solid centre of his life. She had kept him sane.
He had been shocked, almost revolted when Peyton, in their first fight a week or so ago, had brought up Stella's name. It was like being accused of incest. Yes, Stella was beautiful; so was Flack in his way. It didn't mean Mac wanted to sleep with either of them. Stella had stuck by him through everything the past several years. He valued her friendship; he valued her. He had told Peyton in freezing tones that his relationship with Stella was not open to discussion.
So, Stella and Flack. They may think they were being subtle, but the office grapevine got a hold of their first date and had run hot ever since. Mac tested his feelings and was relieved to see that he had not lied to Peyton. He was happy for Stella (as he had not been when Frankie had entered her life, even before his violent proclivities had been known), and for Don. They deserved each other.
A bigger patch of fog caught his eye: in one of the nearby labs, Lindsay was explaining her results to Danny, who was back on shift early after pulling a double, Mac noted with a frown. They stood with nearly the entire width of the lab space between them, and Mac would swear, if there were anyone there to listen, they were speaking to each other from a much greater distance than the physical one. Maybe Stella was right. Maybe his customary stance of non-involvement was not going to work this time.
Mac wandered out to the office space behind the lab, planning to leave Lindsay a note to come see him before her shift was over. When he walked into the office she shared with Danny, he looked around in surprise. Messer's side of the room usually looked like a bomb had gone off, in contrast to Lindsay's obsessive tidiness. Yet today, Danny's side of the room looked barely inhabited except for a jacket hung over the back of the chair, while Lindsay's desk was uncharacteristically covered in papers.
He glanced idly at the top one, noting its disheveled state, another oddity given Lindsay's tidy nature. He didn't mean to read it, but even the cursory glace he gave was enough to set him back on his heels. Toronto was offering his CSI a job? And Lindsay was obviously considering it; the condition of the letter told him that.
He sighed and left a note for Lindsay, "Monroe, my office, before end of shift."
"Okay, Stella, I guess you were right." The thought of the coming discussion gave him a headache. There better not be tears.
When Lindsay walked into the office, the first thing she saw was Mac's note. The second thing she saw was the Toronto letter she had carelessly left out on her desk. She went so white Danny actually grabbed her arm, afraid she was going to faint again.
"Whoa, you okay there, Montana?" His voice roughened as she steadied herself and pushed away from him.
"Yeah – called down to the office. Startled me, I guess." She grabbed the note and the incriminating letter in one hand, trying to keep Danny from asking any questions, and walked out, leaving him cold.