This was kinda inspired by another story of mine "Hope and Love" (which is incidentally my favourite of my stories story so far). Hope you like it! You know I like reviews!
As I've said before: if I owned, Mac would be mine.
XXXXXXX
Moments of pain and it was over. Indelibly etched into her body, in a language not her own was a permanent reminder of something she was never without. Ελπίδα. The tattoo was small. Barely an inch long and roughly a centimeter high, placed under the heel of her left hand, it would not cause undue attention. In fact, Stella made a bet with herself regarding how long it would take the members of the team to notice. Mac Lindsey, Sid and Hawkes: one day. Flack: Two, but maybe three. Danny: Three at least. For being a scientist he sure was clueless. Who knew about Adam and Angell. The geeky lab tech often surprised Stella with his powers of observation, and Jess would notice but not say anything right away.
Lightly rubbing her wrist, she walked out of the tattoo parlor internally listening to the conversation that would undoubtedly take place upon Mac's notice. His glance would turn into a pointed stare before he would ask first the reasoning for doing something so permanent and second the meaning behind the script. Of the two she could only answer with certainty the latter. The answer the former required had so many layers, Stella herself was not sure she had them all uncovered, but Mac was a large part of those answers. Then he would give her a light lecture about department policy and how tattoos, while not discouraged were certainly not encouraged either. During the entire exchange both knowing he was only doing it to cover his ass on the chance a higher up made inquiries. Only after, would he give the characteristic amused arch of the brow and somehow indicate that he liked it. He would not say it in so many words; instead he would most likely ask a question. "So what are you going to put on the other wrist?" was Stella's best guess but then you never did know with Mac Taylor.
It was winter and with long sleeves and jackets it was some time before her wrists were exposed for all to see. She was glad in a way; the skin had time to heal. And sure enough Hawkes was the first to notice. Also unsurprising was the fact that he knew what it said. In characteristic Hawks manner, he simply pronounced the word and said "I like it. It fits you." And Sid, upon noticing merely said "A tattoo, interesting." before launching into a discourse about members of a tribe of goats in Uzbekistan which tattooed the left ear of the daughters of the priestess. Or something like that.
For some reason she was apprehensive of Mac's reaction. They were working different cases so she had not yet seen him and wondered how the scene would play out. Since leaving the parlor she had imagined several different scenarios, not all of them pleasant. She finally found him, sitting in his office, at the end of the day. Exhaustion etching his features.
"Hey. How's the case going? Any leads?" She walked into his office and sat across from him.
A tired smile came into his eyes upon seeing her. "Not really. Flack and I are headed out tomorrow to talk to the mother. Apparently sh…" Stella had unconsciously raised a hand to her face, brushing hair behind her ear. He got up and approached her, his expression now unreadable. Leaning back against his desk, Mac lifted her arm. Not saying a word he stroked his thumb across the stain. Finally: "What does it say?" She translated, making a futile attempt to reclaim her hand.
"An interesting choice." He continued smoothing the skin with his thumb. Did he have any idea what he was doing to her?
"Not really. It's the only thing that's kept me going for as long as I can remember. In the orphanage…"
She stopped when he looked at her, several emotions playing across his face. The remained like that for some time. Stella, hanging on to herself by a tenuous thread, Mac, still unreadable. Finally, keeping his eyes on hers, he raised her wrist to his lips and brushed the ink with the lightest of touches. Stella froze, her eyes widening.
"I'm sorry." Mac let go of her arm but she left it raised, cupping his face in her hand. "It's ok Mac. You are part of that. Part of the reason. Do you not realize that? For you to be happy, to stay safe, to be able to think of Claire without crippling grief."
He turned into her hand, closing his eyes, but not before she felt moisture on her fingertips.
"I have something to show you."
He stood up, unbuttoning three buttons on his shirt. Then, as he pulled open the left side, she saw, over his heart, mingling with his scar a simple word: Hope.