A/N: So far, so good, people. Thanks for keeping up. Anyway, to clarify things -- yes, the CSI team knows but the labtechs, secretaries and the other shifts don't know about Mac and Peyton. The angst doesn't stop there. Lol -- so here's part3. Enjoy!
But then again, when you cry
I'm always at your side
The evidence in front of me is not making any sense. I can see Flack talking, his lips are moving, but I can't hear what he's saying. Focus, Stella! Do your frickin' job.
"Stella? Stella!" I finally hear Flack say. "You in 'er?"
"Yeah, Don, I am…" I trail off shuffling the papers in a messy pile. "I ah… these boot prints are… I'll be searching for them in AFIS."
Flack laughs out loud. "Stella, hang on. I'm no CSI but I know you don't search boot prints in AFIS." I could feel my cheeks heat up. He sits me down and he does the same opposite you. "You feelin' okay?" I give up faking at last and shake my head no. "Miss someone?"
How did he know? I stare up at him with tears brimming in my eyes. "Yes," I manage to choke out.
"Mac?" he whispers putting his large hand on your shoulder. Right there, the tears started to fall. Don lets your head drop on his shoulder and you start sobbing. "I know. You guys rarely talk anymore these passed few days. What's the matter?"
I raised my head to answer when the door of the print lab open and I heard someone say, "Stella, are you okay?" then a warm hand started going up and down my back, soothing me. It wasn't Don's. It was Mac's. "I'll take it from here, Don, thank you," I hear him say then the door closes.
I felt him sit beside me, taming my wild curls to see my face. "Talk to me, Stella." I began sobbing loudly, almost missing the last part of his sentence, "Please."
Mac lifted my chin up and wiped away my tears. I manage to sit up straight and collect myself. "Mac… I'm…I'm alright."
"No you're not. You're crying," he retorted. "I'm listening."
Why is it always like this? Stella Bonasera, why do you open up so willingly and so easily to the man beside you? Even if the reason why you're crying is him. "I… well, I … miss…" I just can't tell him.
A piercing ringing broke the deafening silence. "Excuse me… Taylor." I slumped against the layout table and tried to piece together what I was trying to say. Would I say 'I miss you; do you want to have dinner at my place tonight' or 'I miss our conversations; maybe we can have coffee after shift'? Either way, I would probably end up looking like a desperate ex-girlfriend. Just when I was running through my 'script' in my head, her name escaped his lips.
"I know, Peyton. It's okay," he said loud enough for me to hear. "Yes, yes… I'll pick you up later at your place. Around 7:30 maybe? No, I haven't cancelled the dinner reservations. And yes, it's your favorite – four-course French." Okay, so anything after shift, let alone at my place is out of the window. "Okay, I'll see you. Bye." And then he clicked off. He faced me again as he pocketed his phone. "Sorry about that. You were saying?"
I managed a little smile. "Forget about it, Mac. You … uh, just enjoy your night." I turned away from him as tears threatened to fall once more. "I'll just get these to Adam and I'll be on my way." But I could feel he wasn't buying it; the look in his eyes said so. "Don't worry about me," I smile placing my palm against his cheek and I left.