With Each Passing Day

By Dimgwrthien

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI: NY or affiliates.

The second bomb dropped only a few hours later.

Mac looked over his own scrawling handwriting contrasted to Stella's small and sharp writing. They had written over each other, crossing out something the other thought, adding in their own view and proof. He slowly read over all of the notes, glad to be awake enough to understand them all. At points, he would cross out or circle another section and add in new notes. The case was close to being solved.

Mac heard a knock at his door and saw that it was Stella. She wore her lab coat again as well as a smile. "I fell asleep the second I got home," she told him as she opened the door. "Does everything still make sense?"

He nodded, staring down at the notes as he spoke. "I think they do. Just need to run the last of the evidence through the lab and sent it out."

"I'll do it." Stella stepped closer to his desk. "Box is down in the evidence room, right? What's the case number?"

Mac turned the folder, reading off the numbers from the stamp on it.

"Alright." Stella didn't move away and seemed to shift her weight. Mac looked up at her at last, seeing her nervous expression. "Anything wrong?"

Mac watched Stella, amused at how uncomfortable she could look when she had entered the office with the air of owning the lab. "Not at all. Just - just thinking about the case."

His mind was still wrapped around the night before, from Claire's offended and almost depressed face to the end, when their breathing slowed and the blankets seemed sensitive against their skin as they fell asleep. It was much better than their night on the couch, even when Mac knew that he hadn't quite made everything up to her that morning. Maybe when he got home, he would.

Stella smiled. "Just seemed a little -" She shook her head. "Sorry, I'm having an off morning. I'm really tired today."

"I heard the coffee in the break room is good," Mac answered jokingly. Stella's smile widened. "Take a break, then. Most people have a low tolerance for standing around microscopes all day."

She thanked him, yawned, and left his office. As she stood in the doorframe, she turned back around. "Most of the lab like to head down to a local bar on Fridays. Seeing as you survived your first week, maybe…?" Stella raised her eyebrows. "You can bring your wife, too. We'd all love to meet her."

Claire's face hovered back into his mind. "Thanks, but I owe her back today." He smiled at her again, quickly thinking over what he needed to set up. "Maybe next week."

"That sounds good." Stella watched Mac for a few more seconds. "I don't want to butt in or say anything, but… you know -"

"Off day?" Mac supplied.

She nodded. "You just seem…" She squinted as though that would help her pick out her words. "I'm not sure. Today, you just seem a little bit… disturbed by something or kinda annoyed. Almost like you want to avoid -" She shut her eyes and sighed. "I'm sorry. That sounded horrible. I didn't -"

Mac smiled. "It's alright. Just get some coffee."

Stella nodded and left.

(With Each Passing Day)

"It's not as though you need to do anything special," Claire told Mac as she dug around a wooden box on the dresser for her necklace. She looked over her shoulder, seeing Mac pull on his socks. "I love you, I know you love me. We can… have an off-night and still be perfectly fine."

Mac looked up at her to see that Claire had already turned away to look for it again. He shut his eyes for a moment as he reached out blindly for his shoes. He opened his mouth to talk, but Claire beat him to it.

"I couldn't work for five minutes straight." She sighed and let her arms fall limp at her sides as she raked over the dresser with her eyes. "I kept feeling horrible about it. I - I shouldn't have done that, Mac."

About seven or eight years before, the two had met in a bar in Chicago. Mac could still remember the Claire from that day - vivacious and territorial, but willing to let people get inside that bubble that she controlled. She had only just mellowed out over the years, he noticed. The liveliness eased away into a sort of silent joy in almost everything she did. The way she needed to oversee the people close to her melted away until she just needed to know where they were, play a mother to them all rather than a god. And now she needed to know where Mac was.

"I know what you're like. I know that you wouldn't ever try that with anyone." She turned to Mac and smiled. "I'm lucky to have you. You could have had anyone."

Mac finished tying his shoes, then stood up. He took Claire around the waist and touch his forehead against hers. Her eyes looked unnaturally large and blue so close to her.

He understood the delicate balance between them, the light friendship that pervaded their lives with the romantic element that made them marry each other, and the small family that should have been there. Mac remained silent as he looked at her eyes and only gave her a soft smile.

(With Each Passing Day)

Ringing from the cell phone woke both Mac and Claire within seconds of each other, both peering around the room until they found the source of the news. Claire groaned and stretched before dropping limply back into her place on the bed. Mac was tempted to answer, but with a look at the clock, he rolled back over in bed.

"Not answering?" Claire asked, words slurred into the pillow.

"No," Mac answered.

Claire nodded, her eyes closed, and wrapped both her arms around the pillow. "What time is it?"

"Seven."

"Don't see why anyone needs to call at seven." Claire leaned forward and kissed the end of Mac's nose before crawling out of bed. "Damn woke me up." She tripped as she stood but regained her balance quickly. "Please tell me we didn't go to a bar after," she giggled, then grabbed onto the side of the bed.

"No, you're just tired." Mac sat up slowly, yawning, then blinked at her.

"Good," Claire answered. "Don't want to spoil you. No man will ever get lucky enough for three times in a row."

"I only said you're not hung over. I wasn't saying anything more."

Claire grinned and let go of the bed, testing her balance. She managed to keep steady and made uncertain steps to the door. "You dog. You dirty little dog."

Mac froze. "Dog. What happened to the dog?" He looked around for a moment, realizing that he hadn't paid any attention to it for days.

"Oh, I let him starve to death." Claire sighed. "Don't worry. I know you hate him. I take care of him all the time. He's probably in the closet again. He loves it in there." She glanced at Mac. "May not want to leave your clothes on the floor of the closet, by the way."

"That's reassuring." Mac glanced at the clock again. "It really is too early. Get back into bed."

Claire opened her mouth, but the cell phone rang again. She snapped it shut and furrowed her brow in its direction. "Go ahead and answer it," she said between rings.

Mac picked up the phone and hit a button. "Taylor."

"Mac? Something come up with a suspect. We - please get here." He heard Stella's call end with the sound of a gunshot in the background.