Thanks for the continued support for this and my other fics. Apologies for not yet replying to the reviews for the last 'Lucy' chapter. A little less angst this chapter… :D Enjoy!

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Light filtered through the blind-covered window, and Mac's eyes slid open slowly, immediately aware of the crick in his neck from his awkward sleeping position. More importantly though, he was also aware that Stella was curled against him. That alone was worth all the physical pain in the world. At some point during the night, they'd moved to the middle of the sofa. Together. Natural. Right. He didn't move right away, wanting the moment to last. He closed his eyes and listened to her breathe, feeling her body shift against his with every breath.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

And that moment confirmed what he'd known since they'd become 'official.' That he not only wanted her, but he needed her.

"I'm not giving up on us," he whispered eventually, repeating the sentiment from just a few hours before. He shifted slightly, watching her as best as he could, given their close proximity. Then he softly kissed the top of her head and slid from the sofa, careful not to wake her. He stood and stretched, his muscles burning because of the ill-treatment. But he'd do it all again if it meant waking up next to her. Still, he'd rather that be in their bed…

The TV was still on, and after a half-hearted search for the remote came up empty, he walked the short distance across the room and turned it off. He heard movement behind him and turned to look at her.

"Mac…" she mumbled in her sleep.

The corners of his mouth turned up slightly as he watched her sleep a few moments longer. She was dreaming about him; that had to be a good thing.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

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Stella awoke a short time later, confused as to why she was on the sofa as opposed to being in the bed. She sat up and rubbed her hands over her face as memories of her early-morning talk with Mac came flooding back. The whole situation was so frustrating. Their conversation replayed in her head. She meant what she said about respecting his decision, but was he right? Was she pulling away from him?

She heard Mac's muffled voice from somewhere down the hall; their bedroom, she assumed. She sighed and looked at the clock, jumping up when she realized how late it was. She hurried down the hall and into the bedroom, drawing Mac's attention as she grabbed some clothes from the closet and hurried into the bathroom to shower.

"Yes, I'll see you there. 12:30," Stella heard him say before ending the conversation.

The quick shower did little to wash away the rough night, but after a cup of coffee, she'd face the day whether she wanted to or not. She studied her reflection in the mirror, sighing when she didn't like what she saw. She was pale--for her, anyway--and the dark circles under her eyes were quite obvious. She sighed again and did her best to hide the darkness with concealer, then finished the rest of her makeup.

She got dressed and headed for the kitchen, intent on getting that cup of coffee.

Mac sat at the table and looked up when she entered. "Morning."

"Morning," she replied as she poured her coffee. "Sleep well?"

"I'm guessing about as well as you did." He paused for a moment and studied her. "I called Claire. We're meeting for lunch."

Stella had insisted he call her, yet she couldn't help the lump that formed in her throat. "That's good," she said, refusing to look at him.

He stood and walked to her where she leaned against the counter. "I want you to come with me," he told her softly, taking her hand in his.

"Yeah, that'd go over like a ton of bricks," she snorted sarcastically, still unwilling to meet his gaze.

"Damn it, Stella," he spat, frustrated rather than angry. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" she repeated incredulously, finally looking at him. "What's wrong is that everything has changed." Her voice softened as she realized how much this was affecting him. "I'm glad you're meeting her for lunch, Mac. Really. I just can't be there when you do. Lot of weirdness, you know?" she offered a weak smile.

"Fair enough," Mac replied, his thumb tracing circles on the back of her hand. "I just felt you should know that I want you there."

"Thank you," she told him, squeezing his hand.

He held onto her hand a moment longer, his eyes searching hers. He desperately wanted--no, needed--to kiss her, but he knew she wasn't ready for that, so he let her hand fall from his, immediately missing the contact. "We'd better go or we'll be late for work."

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Thanks for reading!