SO many apologies. I know I seem to say this with every update, so apologies for that too. The computer died a death, I went and saw 'Wicked', Word wasn't put back into the computer…hectic.

So, sorry for that, and sorry for this ;)

Oh! And thank you to those who nominated me in the CSIFanFic Awards over at LJ! Totally floored. Check out my profile for info on how to vote, I would be ever-so-grateful :) xxx

Tricki: Sorry honey, it's coming, promise :) xxx

Her breath caught. 'Is he…?' Her hand grabbed for the drink, the liquid soothing on her dry throat, though with enough of a kick that it prepared her what might be coming.

"Stella, I know we've only been dating for less than a year and living together for less than 2 months, but…I wanted to ask…which colour is better for the bedroom? I'm thinking of redecorating." He fanned out colour-swatches in his hand.

"You…?" Words were lost, and that didn't happen often to Stella Bonasera. Her gaze travelled from the paint cards to the amused and smug look adorning Mac's face. She chuckled, visibly softening in embarrassment. "Alright, alright, you got me, you got me."

He chuckled, sipping at his drink. As the glass touched the table again, his features, voice and demeanour changed instantaneously. "This past year would have been unbearable without you. I don't know if I would have fought so hard to come back if you wasn't waiting for your jewellery."

She silently and subconsciously twisted the ring, still on her finger where he had left it all those months ago, while he smiled at the memory.

"You once said that you were wondering where the 'Old Mac Taylor' had gone. You brought him back. Only you. What I'm trying to say, pretty poorly really, is that I took too long to find you and I don't want to lose you." He stood up, only to go down on one knee before her. She looked at him with doe-like eyes, tears burning beneath the surface. "So, Stella Bonasera, will you marry me?"

She stared at him, her eyes dropping to the beautiful ring and back again. She saw, for only the second time ever, vulnerability in his eyes. Vulnerability and hope and unadulterated love. It struck her head-on in that moment just how much she loved him, and how much she could love him. For the rest of her natural born life and whatever might come after.

"Say some-"

"-I cant."

"…what?"

She got up and paced a few steps, one hand raking through her hair, another wiping an escaped tear from her cheek. "Oh God. Oh my God…" she muttered.

"You…cant? I don't understand."

"Neither do I," she sighed, still pacing somewhat frantically. "I just-I just know I cant marry you."

"Stella, will you just stop?" he asked, standing up. "Stop walking and explain."

She did stop. She turned to face him, her gaze cast to the floor, unable to face those eyes. "I cant marry you, Mac. I'm sorry. You have no idea how much I love you, but I just…cant."

He stared at her, not fully comprehending the gutting words escaping from her mouth. He blinked. "I need something better than 'just cant', Stella. I deserve something better."

"I know you do, you deserve everything, but there's nothing I can give you. Maybe it's just tonight, I don't know. Maybe it's that I've just come off a week-long shift and I'm tired and irritable. Maybe it's that we've only been dating for ten months, and only living together for two. Maybe we're just going too fast. Hell, maybe I'm scared of commitment, I haven't seen my therapist in a while…" she gave a humourless chuckle, not sure with the reasoning. It fell on stony ground though.

"So basically, if I'd asked you to spend the rest of your life with me tomorrow, you'd be saying yes? Is that what you're telling me?" Understandable anger and confusion was setting in. "I said that I knew we were going about this at double speed, but I guess I was alone in the thought that it felt right. That it felt natural that the next step was marriage, no matter how quickly it was from moving in together. Maybe it's just me who's fully in this relationship."

"No, Mac. No. I am here whole-heartedly and I love you so much. I know how much I've hurt you in saying this, and I don't know if I'll ever forgive myself, or whether you will ever forgive me either, but it's just too fast for me. Cant we just enjoy 'co-habituating' for a while?" She flashed a hopeful, and sorrowful, smile.

Mac watched. "I have to go," he muttered, swinging his jacket from the back of the chair and passing her to the door.

"Mac…"

He turned to her.

"I'm sorry."

"I know." And with that he was gone. She watched his silhouette disappear through the kitchen doors and through the back. Stella passed a hand through her hair and wiped away fallen tears before crashing back onto the chair. She cast a glance around the room. The lighting, the flowers, the music; it was all so romantic, all so perfect. And yet she just couldn't do it.

Mac's hurt emerald eyes flashed into her reverie. They firmly rooted themselves behind her eyelids, cursing her with the image whenever she blinked.

Was she kidding herself that it was too soon? Was it just a sleep-deprivation or something more? Was it as fast as she thought it was? Was she actually scared?

She flicked another tear from her ashen cheek, her eyes finally dropping to the ring box on the table. She looked to the door, he wasn't there. Her hand snaked up the table to the artefact, her fingers wrapping around the velvet box. Taking a breath, she pulled it open, gasping once again at the beauty of the ring.

It was an antique; Twenties' inspired, if not legitimate. One pretty-big diamond rock, heart shaped, surrounded by smaller sparkling stones on a white-gold band. It was perfect.

Oh God, what had she done?