A/N: Hey guys! Still there? I'm sorry for the barrage of short chapters. So, to make up for it… a long one for y'all.

I hope I didn't go over on this one. While I was writing this, there was something going on so… emotions run wild. I hope you like this chapter.

By the way, I'm also working on a SNICKers piece. I know they practically sunk that ship but I still think it's one of the best.

Enough of my babble, here you go! Enjoy!

I called her up a little while earlier before she went to her second crime scene; invited her for dinner at Chef D'Angelo. When I told her the place, she was a bit taken aback. It is sort of a high-end place but casual enough for a talk. When I arrived, she was already seated and a glass of red wine was waiting for me. But there's another chair and glass at our table.

"Hey, Mac," she said smiling. "I took the liberty of ordering you red wine. I'm not sure what Peyton would want so I'll leave you to that decision." I sat down and gave her a look. "Where's Peyton?" Silence. I hope she gets the point that it's just the two of us for tonight. "She's not coming, is she?" I shook my head. "Is it because I'm here?" I shook my head again, taking a drink. "What, lost your voice or something?"

"No," I laughed, "she's not coming because she's not invited." Her eyebrow shot up. "What? If this is any way making you uncomfortable, just…" I tried to finish but she's just too fast with her mouth.

"Uncomfortable, hell yes," she said raising her voice without making a scene. "What do you want Peyton to think? What if someone we know spots us here? News travels fast especially in people's dirty minds." She made a move to stand up after dropping some bills on the table.

"Stella, wait," I go after her after instructing the waiter to hold our orders and reserve the table. "Hey, wait up. Let me explain."

She stopped beside a streetlight and faced me. "What now? Why are you here when you can have a perfect dinner with your girlfriend?" Uh-oh, there's that tone again.

I grabbed her shoulders so she would face me. "What's wrong with having dinner with a friend?" I almost yell at her. I have no idea why she's acting like this. "Stella, what's the matter with you? Is it a crime to want to spend time with you?"

That shut her up. Her big eyes met mine and she managed a small smile. If it weren't for the streetlight, she would've hidden her obvious blush. "Sorry," she whispered.

"Stell, don't take this the wrong way but… I really miss spending time with you. Ever since Peyton and I…" I saw her look away. "I have to ask – are you okay?"

She escaped the nakedness of the light as she turned her back against me. "Of course, I am," she squeaked. I know her well enough that she was trying to mask a sob. She then faced me and repeated her words with more confidence, "Of course, I am!"

We went back inside and had our dinner. It was still early (for the both of us) so she invited me for coffee in her apartment. Coffee became beer. And our friendly conversation took a dramatic turn.

I counted the empty beer bottles on the table and floor. Seven. But I know I only took two for myself. Stella had five and her pink cheeks and slurred words proved it. It might look bad, but I took a shot.

"So anyway… are you seeing someone?" I carefully asked as she opened her sixth bottle. It took a lot not to stop her.

"Me? Shheeing someone?" she said raising her bottle. "Nah… no time… not in the mood." She placed the bottle on the floor before she continued, "Besides, no one out there is like him."

I froze. "Like who, Stella?" Frankie?

"Like a friend that I have," she said sheepishly. Flack? Danny? Boy, even when drunk, Stella's hard to read. "He's my good friend for a long time. I think he's going to get married," her eyes began to water. So that's why. But I almost missed her last word, "Again."

Hang on, going to get married again? Her shoulders were shaking as she spoke, "I've known him for a long time and he doesn't even have a clue that I exist. Oh no, what am I saying? Of course he does! He calls me 'Stella' or 'Stell'. Only called me 'Bonasera' once." I was getting a bit uncomfortable. Stella was confessing something personal without her knowing it.

"Stell, stop," I start but what she said next surprised me.

"See what I mean?!" she exclaimed. "Stell." Tears ran freely from her eyes now and she was sobbing. "But he's happy now. He's with someone who – I hope, loves him. He deserves it. Deserves her." She buried her head on the armrest but continued in a muffled voice. "And it hurts me." She sat up straight again and cried out, "It hurts like hell! Why is it so hard to see him happy?" The she was a wreck.

I put my arms around her and she held on for dear life. I barely noticed my own tears escaping my eyes. It was pretty clear whom she was talking about. Me. I was – I am hurting her. And I didn't know.

We stayed like that for what it seemed forever. She quieted down and sat up. She looked worse than a few moments ago. "I guess…" she started, sounding a bit sober, "I guess you should leave now, Mac."

I couldn't contest when she walked to the door and opened it. I put on my coat. Her face was to the floor so I lifted her chin up. She was falling apart again; I saw this before. And I don't like it. I want my happy Stella back. So before I left, I placed a chaste kiss on her forehead.

As soon as the door closed, the cold gloom embraced me. I know that I feel lonelier than anyone is in this city.

AliasCSINYFriendsER – Yeah, Danny has a good head on his shoulders. A pretty one, too hahahh!