What the Angels sing

Summary: Mac attending an official function of one of the city councilmen leads to a case of murder, abduction and missing persons. With foes that don't seem to worry about any casualties, Mac and his team have to hurry up before their time runs out.

Multi chapter case fic.

Genre: Drama, Action, Romance, Case-fic, some Angst at one point or another probably and hopefully some Humor as well ;)

Characters: More or less everyone from the show and probably several original characters.
Main focus on Mac and Stella with minor on the rest of the team.

Rating: T - for later chapters (just careful)

Timeframe: Second part of season 6 or later. (The storyline starts at roughly around late April 2010)
While I don't plan on refering to specific events in the show, there might be things mentioned concerning the characters that would pass as spoilers for early Season 6 episodes... (can't guarantee there won't be some anyway).

Note: This is my first case fic and the first all-team fic.

This will probably be a long story so even if you think it's over... it's probably still far away from it ;)

The first chapters of this story are not beta-ed, so please bear with me and my mistakes in those! Later chapters are beta-ed.

This story will have a lot of Mac/Stella story although it's mainly a case-fic. There'll also be some D/L since they're both part of the story. Other than that more or less every regular from the show will have his/her moments just like in the show.

Disclaimer: CSI:NY and the associated characters are property of CBS, A. Zuiker and other people whom I don't belong to. This is fan fiction and not for profit…

Chapter 1: And so it begins...

What a mess! How the hell had he ended up agreeing to this?

Stella, right, she had been the one convincing him to play a part in this. Actually she hadn't so much convinced him than baited him into this. Why the hell had he said yes? After more than ten years of partnership he should have known when she had an ace up her sleeve. But this time he hadn't seen it. Maybe he just hadn't wanted to see it.

This woman could drive any man crazy.

And to his defense, he had been somewhat inebriated. Okay, so it was only one beer, but sometimes that's all it need for a man to do something stupid. Really, there are guys who do more stupid stuff for lesser reasons. Still it was hard to believe he had agreed to this. The one time when he could have avoided this crap…

He sighed and looked at the mirror again. In a way he had hoped the stupid tux wouldn't fit him anymore. At least it would have given him an excuse not to wear it. It wouldn't really protect him from going to this stupid function but at least it would have prevented him from going there like this. While he had no problem wearing a suit a tux always looked kinda… stupid.

Like a penguin on shore leave.

Another audible sigh escaped from his lips but sadly there was nobody there to actually hear it. Stella could at least have had the decency to treat him to lunch today. After all she was the one who was supposed to go to this stupid function. The invitation had been send to her, not him. If it wouldn't be for the stupid bet he lost he wouldn't even be standing here like this.

Which brought him back to his original thought: How the he had he ended up agreeing to it? They had had that straight forward case. Dead guy in the apartment, girlfriend standing over him, bloody knife in hand. How more straight forward can a case get? How Stella ever got the idea of that woman not being the killer was beyond him. Even more so how he hadn't seen any it. Because after only two days of investigation the case was closed; girlfriend set free because in the end he hadn't died from the knife she had actually stuck into him post mortem but from the two dozen pills he had taken two hours earlier.

And that's why he himself was screwed now. Because this resulted in him he having to go to this damn function on his own. Okay, so he would have gone anyway, but at least he would have had some decent company. Now he would be on his own – between Sinclair and his city council buddies. Without his partners backup. And all this, while she was probably enjoying dinner and a nice movie with some other guy.

He really should have insisted on her coming with him anyway.

Being the head of CSU had to have some privileges. So he should have played the boss card. Then she would have had to come with him. But did he really want to force her into this? If he was honest with himself… no, he didn't. This way at least one of them would have a nice evening.

Smiling slightly at his reflection in the mirror he decides to make the best of it. If she was having a nice evening it was worth it. He'll just go there, stay for an hour or two until he can excuse himself and go home again. This was just for show anyway. Some bigwigs playing politics. Well he hated playing politics – even if he had gotten the hang of it over the years. He knew how to play with Sinclair by now, but that didn't mean he liked it any more.

So he straightened his bow tie one last time before he grabbed his wallet and keys. Heading out into the cool autumn air he hummed quietly a little tune. No, he wouldn't let himself wallow in self-pity. This could practically be considered working hours. And since you can't choose your work it was time for 'suck it up and deal with it, Taylor'.

Half an hour later the cab arrived in front of the Bryant Park Hotel.

After paying the cabbie he looked at the slim but tall building. Again he sighed and wished Stella would be with him. This would be so much easier to deal with if he wouldn't be on his own. Well, who's he trying to kid? It's not just any company he wishes for. With her he can always have a nice evening, no matter where they are.

Well, no use to cry over spilled milk. The sooner he gets there, the sooner he can excuse himself. So he took a deep breath and slowly walked into the entrance hall. Looking around he couldn't see anyone familiar. But then he was running a bit late, so everyone might already be upstairs. Heading over to the elevators he looked around some more. The entrance hall was fairly empty, only a few guests lingering round.

That was when he heard the elevator arriving. Hurrying over he slipped in just before the door closed. Shooting a little apologizing smile in the direction of the only other occupant he checked where the elevator was going. The only button pressed was the one for the 25th floor – same floor he wanted to go.

Not so much wanted he mused for a moment before he shoved the thought away. If he had to go through this he better not made this evening any worse than it was bound to be anyway. He didn't plan on staying that long anyway. So he might as well enjoy it as much as he could. Looking sideway at the woman next to him he saw her gaze gliding over him as well.

"Going for Councilman Baxter's little donation gathering?" she suddenly asked.

He risked another glance, this time going for the full view. In a second, like on autopilot, his brain went through the basic observations: About his height, maybe an inch shorter; about forty, plus minus two years; dark blond hair, falling in long curls over her shoulders; dressed in a dark green dress, emphasizing her slim waist even more.

Pretty.

"Uh… Yeah. Same as you I guess," he finally replied forcing a smile back at her.

Under normal circumstances he might have been more inclined to a conversation with her, but today he was still too engrossed in self-pity because he actually had to be there. So he looked away again, practically dismissing every further attempt at a conversation. She either got the hint or wasn't interested in talking either because the rest of the elevator ride was spent in silence. Only when they arrived at the 25th floor he looked back at her for a moment, nodding and murmuring a little good bye before he exited the cab first.

The floor was filled with people already. Compared to the entrance hall this floor was practically buzzing with life. Again he wished he wouldn't have to endure all this alone, but since there was nothing he could do about it, he took another breath and then wandered off into the crowd. Looking around he could see somewhat familiar faces. Maybe he would look around again later to find somebody he could actually talk to. But for now he had another goal in mind.

If he had to go through with this they better had some decent whiskey to make it worthwhile.

"Taylor! How nice of you to finally show up."

Damn! They better had some fucking good whiskey because 'decent' sudden wasn't worth it anymore.

"You know how it goes, Chief. Busy day, busy week. New York hasn't turned into no-crime wonderland yet."

Actually smiling Sinclair walked over to him. "Where's your partner, Taylor. Last I remember she was invited, too."

Well, what a nice guy to remember him of that. As if he wasn't pissed off enough already. And he still hadn't gotten his first drink yet. The evening was just getting better and better. Thankfully that was the exact moment a waiter turned up. And before the guy could vanish into the crowd again, he grabbed whatever was on the tablet and took a large gulp.

Anything to get out of this conversation.

It wasn't whiskey but the wine was okay. At least he would be able to drink more and talk less. Unfortunately Chief Sinclair didn't look very happy about his attempt to extinguish any thought of conversation before it could really start.

"Well as I said. Busy day."

He could see that Sinclair wasn't happy but he didn't really care. This politics game they had played for the last couple of years was getting boring. They both knew they couldn't piss off the other one indefinitely. So most of the time they tried to either work together or simply ignore each other as good as possible. Actually that was working quite well for them during the last months. Maybe they were finally getting along.

"She'll be here later?"

Or maybe not.

Somehow Sinclair questioning him about Stella didn't really sit well in his stomach. And since he wasn't thrilled to be here either the whole conversation was more and more getting on his nerves. So maybe this was a stupid move and if he hadn't been aggravated already he might have reacted differently. But right then he just wanted to get away from this guy.

"No."

This whiskey was looking very good again.

"Excuse me, Chief."

With that he turned away to find somebody – anybody – he could force into a conversation that would involve neither his partner nor anything even remotely being work-related. Several Councilmen, three judges, an ADA and various spouses he had never seen before. Great! If that was how this evening would continue he was royally screwed. There had to be some guys here he could talk to.

To avoid any further conversation with Sinclair he slowly made his way through the crowd. If he couldn't find anybody to talk to, he might as well find that whiskey he had been pondering about for a while now. It took him several minutes to fight his way through the mass of people. Time and again he had to dodge the unwanted attention when somebody just had to ask him about one case or another. But gesturing in the vague direction of anybody on the far end of the room he finally made it to the bar.

By then he was desperate enough to go for Jack Daniels.

"Talisker," he told the barkeeper. Okay, maybe not that desperate.

"Hey, Mac."

He smiled a little hearing the familiar voice. "Hi, Steven." Looking around he didn't see anybody else in the vicinity though. "Where's your wife?"

"Babysitter couldn't jump in today, so she got lucky and could stay at home." Mac grinned at the depressed voice, knowing full well how the man must feel right now. "Stella?"

"Got lucky, too." He took another sip from his whiskey, careful not to drink too fast so it would last longer.

Throwing a glance over his shoulder he checked over the man standing next to him. Watchful brown eyes were scanning the crowd, obviously looking for anybody who might threaten him into a conversation he'd rather not have. Steven was a good five inches taller than him, but slouching against the counter brought them nearly eye to eye. Despite that Mac was quite sure to the eye of any unknowing bystander he would look rather timid next to the man.

"I tell you, Mac. I'm never sure why I'm even invited… I'd rather stay at home and tuck in my little girl then make conversation with one of those political rats here." Voicing an audible sigh Steven turned around and signing towards Mac told the barkeeper to bring him the same.

"Might be because you're the Manhattan Chief of the FDNY…"

Laughing out loud Steven looked at him and nodded. "Yeah, might be. Doesn't mean I have to like it, though."

Well they definitely had that in common, Mac mused. But in a way he was still thankful for finally finding someone he could talk to. He knew Steven for about eight years now and while neither of the men would call the other one a real friend, they met on common ground most of the time. After working together on several cases they had established a mutual respect for each other. And Steven getting his promotion to Chief last year hadn't changed that. So this and the fact they both loathed this kind of evening entertainment had brought them together more than once – especially if they had to attend on their own, like today.

Since neither of them wanted to talk about anything work related they fell into a quite comfortable conversation about sports. Always a safe topic and since they both favored more or less the same teams they rarely got into any real discussions. Actually Mac slowly felt as if this evening wouldn't end that bad after all. With both Stella and Steve's wife Mary at home, they could actually stick to the more interesting topics. Laughing quietly and slowly emptying the bottle of Whiskey they had secured for themselves both started to enjoy each others company – and the otherwise rather uninteresting evening.

Unfortunately for both of them not everyone was so keen on the two men actually enjoying the evening. Seeing Steven's rather large form unsuccessfully trying to hide from the Mayor's gaze, Mac had to admit that being the Chief of the Fire Department had considerably more down sides than being head of CSU. At least he was spared direct contact with the Mayor for most of the time. Not that being in direct contact with Chief Sinclair was any easier in his books. But at least he had some bargaining chips against Sinclair and was therefore granted more freedom than other guys on his level.

So while Steven was hijacked to participate in the evenings more political discussions after all, he could remain at the bar. Nursing his second shot of whiskey he was silently contemplating if he could already call it an evening, when another guest decided to get herself a drink. From the outside of his peripheral vision she slowly made her way to the bar. She didn't really look very entertained herself and suddenly he was wondering why she was here in the first place.

He couldn't remember seeing her before but somehow she still seemed familiar to him. Maybe it was just the long somewhat curly hair… Although there wasn't any real resemblance to Stella and he doubted his mind would play him like this. No, he must have seen her somewhere else. But where? And why couldn't he remember?

Suddenly she looked at him and smiled a little. Maybe it was the alcohol but something made him smile back. If he hadn't seen her on one of these functions before there was a moderate chance she wasn't one of these 'political rats' – to borrow Stevens quite fitting expression. So maybe talking to her wouldn't be a total waste of time and energy. Standing at the bar and not talking to anyone made him too good a target for Sinclair or whoever might be looking to grill him for something he had said or done recently to piss them off.

But before he got the chance to make up his mind, she grabbed her drink and wandered off in the other direction. Well, so much for making conversation. Probably not that bad, though. His conversational skills with total – female – strangers were a bit rusty to say the least. And even if he was only looking for a decent conversation instead of something more, there had to be some skills involved if he didn't plan on embarrassing himself. Looking in the direction where she had vanished into the crowd he still wondered who she was and why she was here.

"Hi," a voice interrupted his thoughts and surprised he turned around.

Didn't she just walk the other way?

"I don't think we've been formally introduced yet," she continued; obviously ignoring his confused look. "My name's Sophia Carter."

Still too puzzled to actually answer he took her outstretched hand in greeting. Sophia Carter… where had he heard that name before? He knew her from somewhere. Well not really knew her as in having actually met her. But the name definitely rang a bell with him. He just wasn't sure which one.

"You're working with CSU, right?" Again she didn't wait for him to actually talk. She looked amused about it, so it probably wasn't too bad. If he could just place her name anywhere…

"Yeah…," he finally managed to say. "Mac. Mac Taylor." At least he could remember his own name – and actually introduce himself before he made a total fool out of himself. Now, where has he read her name before?

That's when he suddenly remembered. "You're that new columnist with the Times."

A/N: Let me assure you that I'm a Mac/Stella-Fan by heart…

Please take the time to let me know what you think aobut it so far. While the outline of the story is rather fixed, I'm always open to suggestions for everything else ;)