Note From The Author—Okay, so here we go with some explanation of Stella's motivations and thoughts. I hope this makes some of you concerned readers feel a bit better about her, but I really can't guarantee anything until it all comes together. Still, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

It had been just over a month since the last time he'd been with Stella; a month since he'd held her, a month since he'd kissed her. At this point Flack was honestly just happy that he hadn't lost his mind. He'd hardly stopped thinking of Stella for a moment of that time, but he had still refused to talk to her about what had happened between them. There was a large part of him that knew he was probably being an unfeeling, stubborn jackass, but he was still licking at his wounded pride.

On top of all that, he was still in love with her, but what she had told him a month before was still playing on some sort of sadistic loop in his head. She had said not too long after that she had been too harsh and that she wanted to be friends, but he knew there was no way in hell he could handle that; at least not at that point. Don knew it was selfish, but if she was going to be in his life he wanted all of her. That didn't seem likely to happen any time in the near future, so he had decided that the best way to handle things was for the two of them to be work colleagues and nothing more. Too bad he was still so damn miserable.

And it was really too bad that he couldn't see just how miserable Stella was. In the month or so since she had so ruthlessly kicked Don to the curb, she'd been feeling little but regret. Her feelings for him certainly hadn't gone away, but she was still steadfastly clinging to the delusional notion that she was right to have ended their intimate relationship. What frightened her was that her grip on that notion was very rapidly starting to slip. She missed her lover and her friend, and it sent a stab of pain into her heart every time she realized that she missed the man she could no longer ignore her love for.

Stella and Flack had spent a month essentially ignoring each others' existence unless they absolutely had to deal with each other on a case, and it seemed perfectly clear to her that Don still had absolutely no intention of coming back into her life. In the meantime, life for the team had become very interesting, to say the least.

Their rift hadn't affected the lab or station's work to that point, but the atmosphere was undeniably changed. Problem was that pretty much nobody knew the whole story and those who did weren't talking; so nobody knew quite what to do. Everyone was trying to be a friend to both Don and Stella while treading on eggshells for fear of bringing the same look of devastation to one party's eye when the other was mentioned. They were all getting to be exhausted by the routine, and they were all getting worried about Stella and Flack.

Mac finally decided that enough was enough. When Stella returned to her office from the field one day, he made his way to her office.

When Stella looked up from her work at the sound of the door, Mac was pained to see that her smile still didn't reach her eyes. "You look like you could use some sleep," he commented.

That made her laugh, and she shook her head. "Wow Mac, you sure know what to day to make a girl feel pretty."

"I'm serious, Stella," he told her as he took a seat. "What's going on with you?"

Her half smile faltered then, and as she looked across her desk into worried blue eyes she knew it was time to talk. "I screwed up, Mac. I ruined a friendship and I can't fix it."

The pain in her voice was palpable, and it was pretty clear that they were getting to the difficult stuff. "I take it we're talking about Flack?" he ventured.

"Yes," she said quietly.

"Stella what happened? The two of you were such good friends and now you can barely look at each other."

She dropped her head to her hands, taking a deep breath before she pushed those same hands trough her hair with frustration evident in every molecule of her body. "Don and I were sleeping together."

Mac couldn't help it, his eyes widened. "Okay," he said carefully.

"I know!" Stella threw her hands in the air. "We never should have gone there, but we did. It had been going on for a while when I broke it off."

"Why?" he asked. "Of course you don't have to answer me, but considering how you're feeling now I'm a bit confused."

Stella shook her head almost violently. "It's all so complicated and so tangled up in my head, Mac. I thought I was right at the time but now I've been wondering."

"Because you're in love with him."

She really shouldn't have been shocked. "You know me just a bit too well," she whispered."

"You're my best friend, Stella, it's my job to know you that well; and I know you well enough to see that you're in love with him. I also know you well enough to know that it isn't like you to just get rid of someone who's in your life."

Her hands pressed to the table, and when she realized they were shaking she clenched them into fists. "I thought I knew what I was doing, I thought walking away from him was the best thing to do."

"And now you're not sure?" Mac asked.

"Not sure at all."

He leaned back in his chair, trying to convey his willingness to listen. "So what made you decide that it was best to walk away?"

"A lot of things," Stella sighed. "For one thing there's the age difference; I'm over ten years older than him. I started thinking about it, and I started wondering how the hell it could ever work. I've been through so much more than him, and he deserves somebody who…" She broke off. "Someone his own age."

Mac certainly had his reservations on that statement, but he kept them quiet for the time being. "And?"

"And plenty! We work together, we still get into knock down drag out fights, I'm jaded, he's naïve; there are a million reasons."

"Okay, this is the part where I stick my nose into things." He leaned forward in the chair, counting off his points. "One, we both know that Flack doesn't give a damn about how old you are. Two, you two don't work in the same building and I highly doubt that a relationship would be a problem; I'm the boss and I don't have a problem with it. Third, I won't debate that you've seen a great deal, but you certainly aren't jaded, and we both know that the last thing anyone would call Flack is naïve. So what else is going on here?"

Stella's entire body seemed to slump, and when her eyes met Mac's they were shining with unshed tears. "The thing is, Angell…? She feels the same way about Don that I do."

It was as if someone had flipped the switch, and though he certainly didn't understand the logic, Mac suddenly understood what had tipped Stella over the edge. "Stella, please don't tell me that you broke it off with Flack because you thought he'd be happier with Jessica than he would with you."

"She loves him; she loves him so much, and I just…"

"Stella you know that Don is in love with you, what on earth would make you think he would just forget you?"

She sprang to her feet, unable to keep still any longer. Tears were coursing down her cheeks as she spoke. "I'm damaged goods, Mac. There are still days that I have a hard time facing the world, and still times that I can feel the pain as if I were back there that night. I don't know… I don't know how to do this, to be in love with someone, to be with someone."

"Stella…"

"Don't, Mac. You can tell me that I'm wrong and that there's absolutely nothing wrong with me, but I feel it." Her hand pressed against her heart as she shook with the tears. "I could feel myself falling in love with him, and I didn't know what to do. How could I let our relationship keep going, knowing how I am? How could I stay with him knowing that he would have to live with that, live with me and all of these issues I can't seem to get rid of?"

He stood and crossed to her, taking her arms firmly in his hands to hold her still. "Listen to me Stella, I know it isn't what you want to hear, but you are not damaged goods. You went through something horrible, but it doesn't mean that there's anything wrong with you. Nobody would expect you to survive unscathed, and Don loves you for who you are, and everything you've been through."

Mac was right, it wasn't what she wanted to hear, and she certainly had a hard time believing it, even coming from her best friend. She pulled away from him, turning and wrapping her arms around her body. "I know, he told me that he loved me the night I cut him loose."

"Stella."

"I know," she said miserably, tears falling faster. "I know how horrible it is, and I can't believe that I treated him that way. But I panicked, and I didn't know what else… God!" She faltered as a stab of pain went through her.

He was in front of her again in a second. "Are you okay?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.

Stella nodded. "It's been happening all day, but it's nothing I can't handle." There was a knock on the door, and when she saw Angell standing there she furiously wiped the tears from her eyes. "What's up?"

"I'm sorry, I'm obviously interrupting, but this really can't wait," Jess told her, regret in her eyes.

Mac nodded to Stella. "Go, Stella, but think about this."

"I will."

He watched as the two women walked out together, noting the tension that seemed to resonate between the two of them. Still there was evidently nothing he could do to convince Stella she was wrong. All he could do was hope that something of what he said would sink in.

In the elevator, Stella and Angell stood in a tense silence. It was the former who finally broke the moratorium on speech. "Where are we going?"

"Our vic's brother just turned up in Midtown. He says he knows who killed her and he's afraid he's next."

Stella shook her head. "Well that seems a bit suspicious considering that as far as we know he was the last person to see his sister alive."

"My thoughts exactly; so I figure we go out there, see what he has to say. Then arrest his ass." She stopped when she heard Stella's hissed intake of breath. "You okay?"

She nodded. "Fine, let's just get out of here.

The car ride was just as silent as the trip in the elevator had been. Angell and Stella had spoken little more than Stella and Flack since the day of their discussion, so the silence wasn't anything new.

They found their vic's brother to be just as slimy as they had assumed, and he seemed just as guilty as they both felt he was. Despite their beliefs, they had nothing but circumstantial evidence, and therefore nothing to charge him with. So, feeling frustrated and more than a little bit pissed, they headed out of his apartment and back down onto the street.

The car was parked over a block away, and as they walked Stella pulled out her phone to call in an update. "Danny? Yeah, we've got nothing." She paused as he spoke. "Doesn't matter what we think here, he's looking squeaky clean. Yeah…"

Jess barely had a second to react. She heard Stella's cry of pain, heard the phone clatter to the ground, and turned to find her laid out on the pavement. "Stella?" She fell to her knees next to her. "Come on Stella."

Danny's voice was ringing loudly from the phone, and Angell fumbled to put it to her ear. "What the hell's going on?" he questioned.

"Damn it; get a bus out here Danny."

"Jess what..?"

"Just do it Danny! Now!"

Note From The Author—Okay, I know, me and the cliff hangers; I epic fail. Still, I will tell you that my muse, if you prefer that term, is completely and totally in the driver's seat here. I've known for a while where this is going and mostly I'm just praying that it doesn't crash and burn. We'll see. Also, I know that the whole Stella damaged after her Frankie incident has been done to death, but I firmly believe that she's been left with some serious scars, and that they have the potential to come up still.