Toasty here,

Well I was playing Sims and my sim started writing and it gave me this huge stab of guilt- I haven't updated quite as soon as I hoped. Seeing as I did promise Danielle I would this weekend, here you all are. Thank you so much to all of those who have helped me and inspired me to write, I love you all xxxxxx

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI New York or Jess would never have died and Stella would never have left-oh I could go on forever but I shall start writing instead :)

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The first thing Stella saw was a light- a blinding, streaking light which blared into her face and blurred all of her eye sight. A fuzzy bright yellow filled her eyes and she could she nothing but the haze of the light before it left and shined just left of her head. Her eyes took a few moments to adjust, but then they did she wished they hadn't. A man in a balaclava stood before her, a manic look in his eyes and blood smeared over his hands.

Nothing seemed clear, she could still see black dots circling her mind from the light- but as they began to clear she could feel a deep rhythmic thump of pain emanating from her waist, a searing pain that threw her entirely of thought. Dry blood lay around her and for a dizzying second it occurred to her the blood was hers, she was lying chained in a pool of her own blood. Yet to her sudden relief she realized there was no cut across her waist and no cut anywhere else on her, it couldn't have been her blood… which meant it had to belong to someone else who had been there. Jess.

Stella could only vaguely make out the shape of a body in the far corner, huddled up and engrossed in shadows but clearly female. She couldn't see any features or details, but a sick feeling was building up in her stomach nonetheless. The man took another step towards her and it took everything Stella had to move an inch away from him, the chains rattling harshly and cutting thickly into her wrists as she did so.

"Miss Bonasera, I hope you can be trusted to deliver a very important message for me, I need it delivered to someone, Mac Taylor- you're familiar with the name aren't you? Oh but you are very familiar with it are you not? After all, he is in love with you. And it seems you him, though it took me a little longer to find that out. Can you deliver a little message for me?" The man's tone was sickly sweet, endearing almost. Stella could practically feel the smirk in his words. Every fibre in her body screamed to get away from him, though the chains would not let her go any further.

"Get away," Stella could only manage a croak from her sore throat, though she couldn't remember it being so sore before, nor could she remember the dry thirst that racked through her body. He only laughed at her hoarse voice and walked that little bit closer to her.

"I think you will, no matter what you want to do. Now, be a good little girl and speak clearly into that camera over there," He gestured with a leather gloved hand to an area in the corner but all Stella could see were shadows, creeping closer and closer towards her. Her head ached and a blind thirst raged her throat.

"No," It was only a whisper, but it was all she could manage. For Jess's sake, wherever she was, for Mac's sake she felt the words form from her dry and cracked lips. He only laughed once more.

"Your dying Stella, a human can only go a few days without water… you've been out for longer then you think. You will tell Detective Taylor what I want you to, or you will die. Now, when you're ready my dear, just speak over to that camera there and say, 'Yes', but do do that while you still can speak won't you?" He turned around and walked over towards another corner and came back holding a glass of cool water, so cool the glass had steam on the inside. Stella felt her body cry out for just a drop of the water, what she wouldn't do for a sip of it. She nearly gave in at that very second, but somehow, through a strength she wasn't sure she had, she didn't. Shaking her head hurt, but she did so anyway and the pain was almost worth seeing the joy flood out of him, the shock she had remained.

"You see how long you last little girl," He hissed angrily, like a small child. Clearly he couldn't stand anyone facing up to him. He stormed off and Stella tried her hardest to see which way he went, but with him went the flashlight, and all the shadows which had been creeping stormed up to her and took her with them into darkness.

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"It's him, I just know it is!" Mac shook with anger and sleep withdrawal, he couldn't sleep knowing Stella was missing. No one could find her though hell they'd looked, every available officer was out searching for her, but everything had come up clean. Not a trace of her could be found. It was driving him to desperation, he hadn't told her he loved her anywhere near enough, he hadn't held her close or kissed her anywhere near enough, he hadn't been with her for any where near enough. He couldn't lose her, he just couldn't. He and Don had been sharing coffees together, keeping each other company, as it is only the heart broken can keep each other. Mac knew Don had slept just as much as he had- not a second.

Thomas Harland. The man who had turned New York City into chaos and had now taken Stella and Jess. What was worse, Mac was sure it was all his fault and he knew Don knew it too. How Don had managed not to burst at him yet Mac was not sure. After all, he had allowed them to go, it was his permission that sent them off to stakeout, his permission which had caused them to be taken and god knows what happen to them. He couldn't escape the feeling of hatred towards himself, how could he let her go?

"Mac, I brought up a coffee," Don stood in the doorway of his office, a coffee in hand and another stretched out towards Mac in a friendly gesture. Mac nodded sleepily, though with the caffeine and worry coursing through him he knew sleep would never come. Don stared down at his feet with a small sigh escaping his lips. He'd found his one true love and before he could do anything much about it she had been stolen away from him.

"We've got to find them Mac,"

Toasty here,

It is longer then the other, though I would write more but I'm feeling far too tired for it not to be utterly terrible or to result in some poor character dying unduly, therefore adieu my friends, adieu.

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