Thanks for all the support for this. Sorry I haven't updated in so long. I forgot I had this chapter ready until I found it on the computer the other day.

Thanks to lily moonlight for looking over this a *long* time ago and offering suggestions for improvement.

Enjoy!

VVVVV

Mac stared out his office window, seeing the city, but not really taking it in. 12:30 was a long time away, but that wasn't what consumed his thoughts. Even work was just a tiny blip on the radar of his mind.

Stella.

He couldn't stop thinking about her. And in truth, he didn't want to. A deep ache engulfed him, and he wanted to make things right between them. The only thing was, he didn't know how.

Flack tapped his knuckles on the glass door of Mac's office, but didn't wait for permission to enter. "Mac, you okay?" Flack asked as the door closed behind him. "Danny said something's going on with you and Stell, but he didn't want to pry."

With tired eyes, Mac peered over at his friend. "So he sent you?"

"You're not my boss," Flack said jokingly before turning serious. You two okay? Hit a rough patch or something?"

Mac rubbed the back of his head as he often did when he was bothered by something. "You could say that," Mac sighed.

"Hey, whatever it is, it'll pass." Flack studied his friend for a moment, watching as Mac continued to rub the back of his head. "I know it's not our usual style and all, but you wanna talk about it?"

Really, Mac didn't; he just wanted things to go back to normal and for this whole mess to be over. Yet, somehow he found himself talking. "Claire's back."

"Like a ghost?" Flack asked, only half jokingly. He'd seen some weird things during his days with the NYPD. The look Mac gave him snuffed the ghost theory. "You don't mean…"

"Yeah, Don. Claire is alive."

Flack's eyebrows raised in question, and he shook his head disbelievingly. "Wow, I, uh, don't know what to say."

Mac chuckled wryly. "There's not really anything you can say."

"So," Flack started as he flopped down in the chair in front of Mac's desk, "why?"

"I have no idea. She showed up at the door yesterday morning and wanted to talk. I was so shocked to see her…"

"No shit," Flack uttered, still trying to wrap his mind around the information. He sighed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Did she say where she'd been all this time?"

"I didn't give her the chance. I was too angry."

"Angry?" That wasn't the reaction Flack thought Mac would have.

The two friends, like most men, weren't accustomed to talking about things like emotions and relationships, but there they were.

"Yeah," Mac replied, his voice strained. "I was finally able to move past aching for her, then she shows up. Alive. Do you know what it feels like to find out your dead wife isn't really dead?"

Raw pain flashed across Flack's features, and he looked down at the floor. Jess. He knew what it felt like to ache for someone. He knew what it felt like to be so consumed with someone and have that person ripped away far too soon. He knew…

"God, Don, I'm sorry," Mac sputtered upon seeing his friend's clouded features. "I didn't mean to…"

"No, I'm good," Flack said, clearing his throat and forcing the emotion out of his voice. He missed Jess everyday, but he wasn't there in Mac's office for himself. "So, I'm guessing this has put a rift between you and Stell."

"To say the least," Mac sighed, now rubbing his neck. "We ended up on the couch last night--well, this morning--because she wouldn't sleep in our room, and I couldn't sleep in there without her."

"So you're both sore because you're stubborn?" Flack said, noting Mac's incessant rubbing of his head and neck. "Yeah, I can see that," Flack nodded. "What are you gonna do?"

Mac sighed. "I'm supposed to meet Claire for lunch. She left her number in case I changed my mind and wanted to talk."

"And you did," Flack said. It wasn't a question.

"That's the thing, I didn't. I don't. Stella was the one who talked me into calling Claire. She said that I needed to think about the possibility of a future with Claire."

"Stella said that?" Flack asked as he sat up, obviously surprised.

"And that she'd let me go if that's what it took for me to be happy."

"Damn," Flack shook his head, "that's quite a woman you've got there, Mac."

"Yeah, only I can't convince her that she's the one I want to be with."

"Don't kill me for what I'm about to say," Flack muttered as he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Maybe Stella's right."

"Why is everyone trying to convince me that I don't love Stella?" Mac exploded, slamming his hand down on the desk, the force of the impact sending a pen bouncing and clattering to the floor.

"Look, Mac, I'm not saying you don't love Stella," Flack said, holding his hands up in defense. "I see the way you two look at each other, especially when you think no one's watching. Hell, sometimes it's even nauseating. But I'm happy for both of you." He paused briefly, thinking about how he wanted to phrase his next thought. "I just think you should hear what Claire has to say and be happy she's alive, you know?"

"I know," Mac said, closing his eyes in an effort to calm himself. "And I am. It was just…a shock to see her standing there yesterday. But why come back now, after all these years?"

"That's what you'll find out at lunch."

"Yeah," Mac uttered as his phone rang. He looked at the display.

"Stella?" Flack questioned.

"Yeah, how'd you guess?"

"Goofy grin," Flack chuckled and stood up as the phone rang again. "You've got it every time she's around, even when you're fighting."

"We're not fighting," Mac stated, the phone ringing a third time.

"Let me know how everything turns out," Flack said as he pushed open the door.

Mac shook his head and answered the phone. "Hey."

"Mac, it's me."

VVVVV

Thanks for reading!