As Stella walked through the lab parking garage, she was struck by the eerie sense of being watched. She looked about her carefully, yet doing so in a way as not to draw attention to it. It was an incredibly uncomfortable feeling; one which Stella had felt before when walking to and from the coffee shop. It felt strange and somewhat terrifying to feel as though under scrutiny, especially in the secure NYPD car park.

Another glance behind her shoulder told Stella that she was definitely alone. Yet despite this, the feeling of being watched in no way disappeared. It was unsettling. Even back in the safe confines of the lab, Stella was unable to rid herself of the uneasiness. As she walked down the corridor, Mac came out of an office and called her, obviously wishing to chat. Stella, however, ignored him and continued walking onwards, not seeing Mac's face fall harder.

Lindsay Messer had to admit that she was really beginning to hate her job. Of course she had faced difficult cases before, but the Taunter killings were a whole new experience. Every piece of evidence they had uncovered- which were few in numbers- proved to be a dead end. Despite the sheer amount of hours, manpower and money ploughed into the investigation they still hadn't gotten anywhere. And that frustrated Lindsay both in a professional level- as a CSI and law enforcement officer- and on a personal level- as a woman and a mother.

She had been standing, analysing the clothes of the latest victim for any evidence for two hours and finally had had enough and so she headed for the staff lounge area. She was about to enter when low, hushed voices alerted her to the fact that there were people in it and by the sounds of things, having a very personal conversation. As she listened harder, she realised the voices belonged to Flack and Angell and her curiosity only increased. She stood stock still and silent, listening carefully to Flack and Angell speaking.

'I can't believe Mac. I actually can't believe him.' It was Flack's voice. 'How could he treat her like this?'

'Flack, we don't know anything about it. Remember, we've only heard Stella's side of the story, not Mac's.'

'You're saying I shouldn't believe Stella?' Flack demanded angrily.

'No Don. That's not what I'm saying. I'm saying that you don't know the full story yet. Yes what Mac did was appalling but he hasn't had the chance to explain yet has he? We, the lab, are too busy avoiding him to allow him to explain himself and Stella's too busy avoiding him too.' Jess spoke with hurt in her voice from Flack's accusations.

There was silence between the partners for a moment before Flack again spoke, this time quieter. 'I'm sorry Jess. I didn't mean to snap like that. It's just...'

'I get it Don I do. They're my friends too and I know you've known them longer but there's nothing you can do. You have to let things be. Let Mac and Stella sort this out.'

'I know it's just...'

'You hate it when people interfere with our relationship.' Jess pointed out smugly, knowing that she would win against her lover.

Don smirked slightly. 'Yes I do. I really do.' He sighed. 'How could I have been so blind Jess? How could we have been so blind? All these years Stella was suffering in silence and none of us noticed. How could we not notice how she felt about Mac? I mean we're detectives for crying out loud!'

Lindsay gasped as she realised what Don meant, and she instinctively craned her ear closer to the door.

'Yeah I know.' Jess agreed. 'Poor Stella, for over ten years she was in love with Mac and then...'

'And then he struck her.' Flack's voice was dark.

Again there was silence before Jess's quiet voice began to speak again.

'What Mac did was wrong but we can't interfere in what is their business. They have to be the ones to sort this out. Stella and Mac need to be the ones who confront each other.'

'Yeah that's not likely to happen. Mac isn't exactly known for sharing his feelings- neither is Stella if I'm honest.'

'That doesn't matter Don. We have to let them be. I know it's annoying and I want to interfere too but we can't. This is between them and we have to respect that.'

Eventually, after a long period of silence, Flack spoke. 'Fine.'

'Good, now we should return to work.'

Hearing that the pair were about to depart from the room, Lindsay quickly walked away, her mind spinning with all that she had heard. She wasn't quite sure why she was so shocked; it was obvious to everyone's eyes that Stella and Mac had a connection. But she supposed it was because it had been said aloud and Stella herself had admitted her true feelings to Flack. The shock began to dissipate and instead was replaced with anger. Anger at both Stella and Mac for being too stubborn to admit their feelings to one another, anger at Mac for striking Stella and if Lindsay was honest, anger at herself for not realising the extent of Stella's feelings the pain she had been feeling for so many years. How could they, some of the best CSIs in the country, not have seen this? How could they have been so blind to their mother-figure's suffering?

Feeling tears well up in her eyes, Lindsay quickened her step as she headed to the one person who could comfort her at this time. As she entered the otherwise deserted room, Danny glanced up, his smile quickly vanishing as he noticed his wife's distress. He took her into his arms and listened in shock as she told him of what she'd overheard. Like Lindsay, Danny also was horrified by all that Stella was suffering and together, the couple vowed that no matter what, they would help Stella and Mac.

Since her return to the lab, Stella had been researching the Thomlinson brothers. What both Jo and Maggie Thomlinson had spoken of was true. There was clear evidence that both brothers exhibited psychopathic tendencies since childhood. From what she had heard and from what she had read from the files, it was clear that Anthony had been the alpha of the pair and that Damian had struggled his whole life in the shadow of his older brother. A part of her almost felt sorry for Damian as his file indicated that where Anthony had been lavished with toys, cars and an expensive education from his parents, Damian had been left to fend for himself. The only thing the younger brother appeared to excel at was athletics, in particular javelin throwing.

During her research, Stella had been aware of Mac standing at the door of the room, watching her intently for what felt like ages. It was obvious he wanted to speak with her but Stella had kept her head low, pretending to ignore him even though it was the hardest thing on earth. Mac had known that Stella was ignoring him and that hurt him greatly. He couldn't help but stare at her as she worked. He had been devoid of that view for so long and now that she had returned, he couldn't stop drinking it in.

He wanted to explain to Stella; to apologise to her for striking her. He had known all along it was wrong but in the blinding madness that had followed her departure he hadn't had the strength to admit his sins. But now that the madness had subsided and he was facing universal condemnation, he wanted to apologise, he wanted to tell Stella the truth about how much she meant to him. But he found that the words just would not come and so all he could do was stand and watch her, grateful that she was here and safe. After a long period of uncomfortable watching, Stella became aware that Mac had gone and instead of feeling relieved about it, her eyes filled with tears and she felt a great wave of sadness hit her. She was still so very alone.

Stella continued with her painstaking reading of the Thomlinson's lives. Officially they had looked like a normal American family but as Stella dug deeper she uncovered a web of deceit and evil that affected the whole family. The father, Kenneth Thomlinson, had been a prominent businessman in Las Vegas who on the surface appeared to be a charitable, family man. However Stella had uncovered allegations of assault and abuse inflicted upon a dozen or so prostitutes leading up until his death, twenty years ago. His wife Lydia, it seemed had been an alcoholic and was known for her sadistic temper. Then of course were there sons.

Although Anthony had appeared to be a poster-child; athlete turned corporate lawyer, there were unproven reports he had attacked women and had a violent temper. So violent he had apparently killed the family dog and abused a disabled neighbour. Of course the charges had disappeared once daddy had become involved. But there were other reports that surfaced too which Stella doubted anybody had read: reports from the Las Vegas Crime Lab which alleged that fifteen years ago Anthony had raped a young college freshman, a girl who would later be discovered in a mass grave outside of Las Vegas. It was clear to Stella that Anthony Thomlinson had killed the girls in Las Vegas.

But what was Damian's role in this? What had happened to the man who had been so tragically injured in the car crash which had claimed the life of his older and hated brother? As she pondered this Stella remembered what Maggie had said about Anthony's behaviour when he had first heard about the killings: 'When the media frenzy started and it was disclosed about the Taunter, Anthony was so, so mad. I'd never seen him so angry. And for some reason he was angry he kept cursing about Damian'.

There was another memory that had been triggered, 'Damian hated me. He hated all women and he hated Anthony'... 'Nobody could beat Damian when it came to javelin'.

And in that moment Stella realised who the Taunter was. Typing urgently she searched Damian Thomlinson on the database, before finally finding an address. Then she was off, sweeping out of the lab, without informing anybody where she was heading. Mac watched her go, a sickening feeling developing in his stomach which he savagely clamped down upon. Stella knew she should have alerted Flack or Jess on where she was heading but she would do so once she had reached the address. After all she had no proof of any of her theories.

The house was in desperate need of repairs. The wood was cracking and the paint was worn and falling off. If it wasn't for the satellite dish atop the roof, Stella would have surmised the house was long deserted. The whole neighbourhood could be described as being slum-like; with many of the houses boarded up. Stella glanced around, feeling somewhat uneasy and saw that there was nobody around- not even a nosy neighbour peeping from the window. She knocked on the door and waited. No response. 'Damian Thomlinson. NYPD.'

Still no response. Stella knocked again and then, breaking police protocol, tried the door handle. The door was open and Stella entered her gun in hand for protective. 'NYPD. Hello is there anyone here?' Stella got as far as entering the living room when a hand clamped over her mouth, muffling a scream. Her gun was knocked from her grasp as she tried to fight her assailant. As she struggled, she smelt a distinctive scent flood her nostrils and for some strange reason, her body seemed to weaken its fight. She tried to fight the sensation but her eyes started to droop. It was then that everything went black.

Apologies for lack of updates and any errors encountered within the text. University life certainly swallows up spare time. As always feedback is appreciated.