D: I don't own CSI New York.

There is Mac/Claire in this chapter, but it's a flashback, so it's kind of excusable.

(There is not a lot on Mac. Seriously, I don't even know his age.)


May 1987

Vic's bar was getting overtime for this week. It was the end of finals at the colleges in the city and many over the age, with some underage, coming in and having toasts to everything before going home for summer break. Several of the high school students were also in, passing off fake ID's for a taste of adulthood.

Mac hadn't been a student for a while, but Vic's was one of the only places he could get a good American draft. He was in Chicago for a friend's funeral and was on shore leave from the Marines for four days. Still haunted by the bombings back in 1983, he was pass the .1 drinking limit and didn't look like he was going to stop.

He was through half of his sixth beer when he felt someone slide up next to him. He turned to a beautiful woman who had middle of the back long brown, wavy hair that looked like no chemical or perm had touched it. Her eyes were the blue sapphires could only dream of. Her face had started to blur with all the alcohol in his system, but he could still tell she was under age. Way under age. "So, what brings a military man like you to Chicago?" she inquired, holding the same brand Mac had in her hand.

"How can you tell I'm military?"

"Part of your tattoo's showing, but not enough. What branch?"

"Marine." He leaned toward her head for the next question. "What year of high school?"

"Senior, but I still have a semester to go. I look that young?"

"Like a junior. Don't worry, I'm not telling anyone. I came in here when I was still in high school."

"When were you in high school?"

"Back in 1980."

"So, you're what, 25? 26?"

"25." He finished off his beer and was going to ask for another one when he found himself being pulled to the dance floor by the woman.

The music was the latest mix by a popular DJ that Mac didn't bother listening to. She knew it, and was jumping while moving her hips to the music. She rubbed up against him a couple of times, in specific places. Mac was already a little warm from the alcohol, but the movements were making him warmer in those specific places. His response was to wrap his arms around her waist, pull her up and planted a kiss. She wrapped both arms around his neck to pull herself up and deepen the kiss. Both moaned at the deepness and the meeting of their tongues.

A few whistled at the kiss and another yelled, "You got a good one, girl."

She started laughing as they pulled apart. "Sorry, my friends joke that the first guy I meet I'm going to marry. Apparently, they like and approve of the guy I'm with." She leaned to tell him something. "They don't know I've already had a couple of guys."

"Sounds like they were wrong." Two more songs, both heavy on the beats, and Mac needed another drink. He went over to the bar and asked for another bottle. She joined him over by the bar and grabbed another as well.

"Are you doing anything tomorrow?"

"Not until noon."

"Where are you staying?"

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The knocker on Mac's door was being used. Reed moved away from Mac so he could get up to answer the door. "Perfect timing," Reed cracked, "Right when she was about to get you to your room."

Mac walked over to the door and answered to see a delivery boy with their pizza. He paid with a twelve percent tip and brought the pizza back to the living room with two plates. They both brought out a piece before settling back.

"You said she was about to get me back to my room?" Mac referred, taking a second slice. He looked over at Reed, who had stuffed his face with a second slice and could only grunt an answer. "Right."

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She thought she knew the number. She was pulling him along the corridor and stopped when he pulled her back in front of a door. "I thought it was three forty-two."

"No, it's three thirty-two. You're off." He opened the door using an actual key. There was barely enough time to close the door before she was over him. He reciprocated, wrapping his arms around her, picking her up and walking her over to the bed.

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"I don't think we need to go into that," Mac professed, grabbing the last slice he wanted.

"Oh, come on. You were getting to the good stuff. You got her over to the bed and?" Reed prodded, taking a bite. Mac gave him a glare that caused him to shrink in his seat. Mac smirked and took a bite out of his slice.

"Let's skip to after that part," Mac directed.

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All the physical therapy didn't help when he exerted himself. First all the alcohol and the dancing had kept him out of breath. Now, he was slowly regaining his normal heartbeat after two rounds of sex with her. "That was great. I never knew part of the training for Marines were all those positions," she joked, looking at Mac.

"That wasn't the Marines. That was several friends that were talking about the Karma Sutra while playing poker. I was curious and decided to read up on it."

"Curiosity never did that for the cat."

"How true." She looked over at the clock beside the bed. A wave of panic spread over her and she started putting on her clothes in a rush. "What did I do?"

"It's nothing you did. I have an interview at eight and I really need to get home, get some sleep and do my makeup, my hair and get my clothes."

He was still half drunk from the beer he drank several hours before. The lights were also off as she crept up next to him and kissed him deeply for a minute before running off the door. Mac lay back on the bed and wrapped himself in the sheet before drifting off to sleep.

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"Okay, that was a great story about you picking up a girl, but what does it have to do with you, me and Mom?" Reed argued.

"I met the woman a few years later…"

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April 1992

New York City was in full bloom when Mac walked into the middle of the courtyard at the college where he was finishing his degree. He saw a beautiful woman sitting upright against a tree trunk. He went over. "You're in my Calculus Two class, aren't you?" he asked, sitting next to her.

"The class with Mr. Yakho who nobody understands," she claimed.

"It takes a while to get use to the accent, but I understand him. At least in the language of speaking."

"What do you need help with? I'm Claire, by the way. Claire Conrad." She held out her hand.

"Mac Taylor."

"So which problem?"

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"Okay, your first meeting with Mom," Reed itemized.

"Just wait, it gets better."

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January 1995

Claire Conrad Taylor was crying silently in the bed she now shared with her husband. They got married at the very end of December and had just been on the honeymoon. She remembered at this exact time, back in 1988, she had been giving birth to a beautiful baby boy that she couldn't bear to see brought down by the fact she was an unwed, single mother. She felt he would be better off with the family that had adopted him.

"Claire, what's wrong?" Mac asked, walking over to the bed and sitting down next to her.

"Today's the day that I had him," she choked.

Mac took her in his arms and hugged her tightly. "It's not your fault. You thought he would be better off. You had no idea that we would find each other."

"I know. I know. It's just…" She wiped her eyes. "I did some calculations just after. I had him in January. That would have fit with my ex-boyfriend that I had been dating in April. We went without one time during that month. But I had my period after. And I forgot about that. So it couldn't have been him. Then I met this guy at a bar and had a one-nighter with him. I wasn't on the pill, but he used protection. I think he's the father and I don't remember his name. I just wanted some fun and this is how it…"

"It's okay. It's okay, Claire. You didn't know how it would turn out." He rocked her back and forth as she started crying again.

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"Okay, so you met a girl in a bar in May of 1987. Mom met a guy in the same month. She had me January of 1988." The pieces were slowly clicking into place. Reed looked over at Mac. "Mac, did you and Mom meet in May? Way before college?"

"It clicked when I was unconscious after they took out the bullet. The woman I met that night was your mother. She knew it wasn't her ex-boyfriend, but the guy at the bar." Mac took the piece of paper out of his pocket. He gave it to Reed.

"Common alleles. Mac, I don't…"

"Seven out of thirteen alleles, Reed. Don't you watch the TV shows?"

Reed thought about it for a minute. "We're related?"

"Not just related. Reed, I'm your father." Mac was engulfed in a hug he wasn't prepared for.

"This is weird. This is weird. But it's good because now I don't have to worry about my biological father being a criminal because I know it's you and," he babbled. He had a couple of tears falling down.

"Reed, Reed calm down," Mac broke in, rubbing his back.

"So, did you figure it out and then test or?"

"Reed, when could I have tested during the time I was at the hospital and here?"

"Right, so how long have you known?" Reed let him go to look up at his face.

"A few months, since Adam ran your DNA accidently against mine."

"Accidently?"

"He ran it twice after to recheck."

"Why didn't you tell me after you found out?" Reed argued.

"Reed," Mac averted his anger, taking his head in his hands, "I didn't remember when I had met your mother to possibly have been the father. I didn't want to tell you something that I couldn't remember myself. For all I know, I could be a twin and it would be awkward for him to be the actual father."

"Sorry, Mac. I just…" He pulled his head away and wiped his eyes. "This is huge, okay? I didn't like that you kept this from me. It didn't matter that you couldn't remember. What happens if I had found out from someone else?"

"The only other people that know are Stella and Adam. And I intend to keep it that way." He wrapped an arm around Reed, bringing him in and tucking his head under his chin. "Okay? We are the only four that know."

"Okay." Reed stayed a minute before yawning. "I think I'm going to bed." He brought himself out from Mac. "Is the bedroom still free?"

"Yeah, the bedroom's still free. I haven't changed the sheets."

"Cool, I'm just going to…" He moved to clean up the plates.

"I'll take care of this, Reed. Go to sleep."

"Mac…"

"Reed, you need sleep. All right?" Mac took Reed's head with a soft hand and turned it toward him.

"All right." Reed walked off to the bedroom and fell on it without taking off anything. He was out within a minute.


Sorry, there's still one more chapter. There will be SMacked. Even if it is light SMacked.

Review please. Reviews are nice.