Disclaimer: They are not mine for reals, and the maimed versions here are not mine either.

Spoilers: None. Just drabble.

A/N: I have a thing for Mac's voice. I discussed this with Jenna who is similarly afflicted. This story was born. My 99th. Wow.

"The human voice is the organ of the soul."

Stella tipped her head back and spun around slowly in Mac's desk chair, waiting for him to return to his office. It had been a long day and she was looking forward to going home and crashing on the bed in the dark. She needed a good 12 hours of sleep, but she'd take six if it came her way. She rubbed her neck and looked out at the moon wishing that she could see it from some beach instead of the city. Just for once.

The door opened and Mac walked in, his tie loose around his neck and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Even the top button of his shirt was undone.

"You look bad," she said as he pulled his tie off and tossed it on a chair.

"I just got reamed," he replied, dropping a stack of files onto his desk. "And you're in my chair."

"It was here."

He gave her a half smile and leaned against the desk, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I gotta tell ya, Stell, this one is putting me through the ringer."

"What happened?"

"We made assumptions when we shouldn't have. The vic was heavy into online gambling, racked up some huge debts. After four days of following up with that, it turns out we wasted our time. If there's a connection there, we would have found it."

"And it's your fault because you're not moving fast enough on the case."

"Exactly."

"Sometimes I hate the justice system."

"Shh, they'll hear you."

She smiled and reached over to peek at his files.

"Want a fresh eye?"

"I wouldn't subject you to that."

"How about a fresh ear? Run it by me."

He sighed and started to tell her about the case, and she found herself paying more attention to his voice than his words.

It was like a dark roast coffee; rich, deep, smooth with an occasional bite. It rolled off his tongue and fell to her ears like cashmere, warm and comforting, completely enveloping. It was as rough and glossy as an iced-over gravel road, a perfect juxtapose of sharp and soft. Husky like morning voice, but a morning voice that lasted all day long, tingling her senses. She could listen to him from morning to night, be lulled to sleep by nothing but his voice, loose herself in the timbre of his words. She felt the sound in every part of herself and she wanted to get lost in it; the familiarity, the comfort, the utter beauty. She wanted to drink it in like a dark wine, feel it spread through her insides, intoxicating, leaving minute scars as it went, coursing with her blood, becoming indelibly intertwined with her.

She watched his mouth as it moved and before she really knew what was happening, she stood from the chair, knocking it over in the process. Her lips crashed against his and he breathed her name roughly as he kissed her back, his hands catching her hips and pulling her closer. Their lips slid into a comfortable position, finding the place where they belonged, together as a unit. She needed to breathe, but couldn't bear to tear herself away from him, even for the most important of human needs. An almost-whimper escaped her and he decreased the intensity of the kiss, finally pulling away to look deep into her eyes.

"What was that for?"

"I… just… I wanted to…"

"You wanted to?"

"I've never been great with impulse control."

He smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I always liked that about you."

"Mac?"

"Yeah?"

"Say that again."