A/N: Okay, this is a first for me. It's going to be only romance with maybe a bit of adventure and surely some comfort. I hope you'll like it.

This story hasn't been beta-ed, so all mistakes are mine.

Warning: Some spoilers from coming episodes.

Summary: After a deadly encounter, Mac decides to take a step towards his best friend. Will she fall for a wild guy.... fluffy Romance- you've been warned, with some comfort of course, SMacked all the way.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, beside the characters I created for this story. CSI NY belongs to CBS and Jerry Bruckeimer.

This story is for AiP and all SMacked fans out there.

...Have Faith in our show people...

She looked at the window, somehow expecting to see him, which was crazy, since she was at the thirteenthstory. A small smile grazed her lips. She had to admit he had intrigued her last night as he had entered her office. Stella closed her eyes, remembering his way to step into her own space, his breath inches of her face, and then that cocky smile he had given her, which had become usual with him lately. She sighed, she didn't mind, in fact, although it was a bit new to her. She frowned. She wondered if it was related to his last dates. It's true that he seemed more at ease and playful than usual, but then, his dating time hadn't remained very long. As Aubrey had passed in a flash, Peyton had come back, and she had seen how his mind had been dragged back into some dark corners of his mind and some more cheerful, probably pondering about the new avenue her arrival had reopened.

But then, Peyton had left again. Stella sighed. Hurting her friend even more. It hadn't surprised her at all. The ME wasn't known to be very constant in her life, neither with her love interest in Mac. But this time, it was Mac that had surprised her. Instead of brooding more and shelling back into work mode, he had seemed to cope better. Even if he was still hiding some deep scars, she could feel that somehow he had grown up from all this. Maybe even healed a bit as he was now smiling more often, or was it just her imagination?

But then, his smiles had disappeared this week, replaced by a deep frown that hadn't left his face until yesterday. She was about to leave when he had entered her office with that new smile, but she suspected this one was plastered only for her. She could still see the concern lingering deeply inside the gleaming, ocean pool of his eyes when he had spoken.

"Ain't you done for tonight?" he had asked, trying to take an amused look. She had smiled, thankful for his commitment to pull a brave face before coming to see her, though she could see that something was really bugging him. For a moment she had even wondered if he had finally come to talk about it.

"Yes, I'm calling it a night, and I won't think about work before Monday." She had answered quickly, hoping none of their phones were going to buzz for a new case. No this weekend she intended to rest and unwind, nothing else.

"Wow, I'd like you to give me your potion for that. Can become handy." He had smirked. His hands were lazily stuffed in his pockets. Quietly, he had left the threshold to lean against the salmon wall before her. Yep, obviously he wanted to talk, she had noticed, seeing his large frame taking more support on the wall.

"Yeah, like you could think of something else than work," she had quickly replied without realizing her words had left her mouth. He had flinched lightly under her words. Did I hurt him? She had wondered. Though it was true. She had never seen him doing anything else but work. There was nothing wrong by stating a simple fact. So why had she felt so guilty then?

He had sighed. "I guess, I deserved that one," he had whispered with bitterness.

"Mac, I didn't mean that..."

"It's okay Stell," he had cut her shortly, raising his palm. "What are you going to do with your day off and this big weekend coming?" He had asked, changing the subject. She smiled, remembering how his brows had quirked in wonder. "Kinda a very long time." He had added.

A grin had spread over her face. "Well, probably three full days of shopping and leisure, or maybe something absolutely meaningless I guess, I don't know yet. What about you?" she had known then, that he too had taken a day off just before this big weekend. What a work alcoholic like him could do with three full days of no work related?

He smiled lightly. "Well, I planned a little trip, maybe, depends..." his voice hesitated as his green, ocean eyes shone with a new light and locked with hers.

"Depends? Of what?" she had been curious. What kind of trip Mac Taylor could do when he was off? Hum, visiting family maybe, as dedicated to his family and friends as he was he had to do something meaningful. The clear opposite of the things she had planned for herself.

"Mostly with who, you mean?" he had whispered with the tip of his lips.

"Huh, so you're planning a little trip with...a date?" Inwardly she had cringed at the word. Does it mean he had found someone that fast? What was really happening to her friend? And why was she bothered that much? Mac had the right to be happy. She should be happy for him. But somehow she couldn't go with the idea that it was good for him. She clenched her jaw, waiting for him to spit the name that would keep her awake for the next week or so.

"Huh..." he had racked his throat and had carefully paced her office. "...actually I was wondering if you would accompany me? I know you have other important things to do on this big weekend. I just wanted to show you something. I mean if you're not too busy I would..."

"Are we talking conference or extra case to work?" she asked wondering why he seemed suddenly so nervous for asking that to her. They had already done things together, though not for three days in a row, and it had always been work related, but yet. She smiled, so maybe he was loosening up a bit.

He had stopped looking at her, and for a moment she would have sworn she had seen a glimpse of anxiety in his green, ocean eyes. He had frowned. "Do you want it to be?" He had asked as if he was not sure of her answer.

"Huh, I think I'm done with work this week if you don't mind," she had said with regret. Clearly, it was work related then. No, even if she liked to spend some time with him, she really wanted to unwind this weekend. But then, his answer had surprised her again.

"It's not work related," he had let out with a soft smile, almost relieved she hadn't asked for it.

That was a first, she realized. Mac Taylor going to a long weekend without it being work related. What was that about? Now he had really intrigued her. "Then, count me in," she had exclaimed with more joy that she thought she would, though it seemed her enthusiasm earned her a warm smile from him as his face softened. Obviously he had counted on her since the beginning, but hadn't been sure she would say yes..

"Then, grab your gear, we'll leave tomorrow first thing in the morning," he had said, exiting her office with a smile.

Grabbing her purse, and closing her office, she had followed him as he was heading to the elevator. Then, as both had waited in front of the shining doors, she had carefully observed him."Gear?" she had asked, bemused by his sudden cocky expression she had come to love.

"Casual clothes," he had added as they had stepped inside the elevator.

Casual? That too, was new for him. First it wasn't work related, and now informal. Her brows had creased, wondering what was going on with him? "Where..." she had started, but as the doors had opened on the parking lot, he had given her a boyish grin, sealing his lips and had climbed in his Avalanche. Leaving a wondering Stella to go to her car and wishing that it was already tomorrow.

She smiled, wondering if finally it wasn't time for her to make a move towards him and reveal what her heart had preciously concealed for so many years now. What does he have in mind?

I have something to show you, he had said, with sparkles in the eyes. What was that thing he wanted to show her? Stella glanced again at the window, her excitement growing at the perspective of discovering a new side of her partner. Yes, maybe time had come to tell him the truth. Maybe it was time she really opens her heart.

xxx

The shining dawn gently streaked out her salmon arms to embrace the stirring city. As usual for this hour, the long file of yellow cabs was already working its way through the city to embark its feverish clients to their much needed destination. Mac glanced at the already dense traffic, glad he had made it through before the morning rush. In fact, he had arrived much sooner than what he had told her. Probably his anxiety, he realized. Hell, it was a first for him. Well not as a guy, but for what they were going to do, he knew that he was going to surprise her, and somehow, he couldn't say he had slept last night. Not like he really slept a lot anyway.

He sighed as he looked at his watch, wondering if he was right to call her. It was too late to back down now that he had proposed her to come with him. He cursed, not able to shake that feeling of dread that had wrapped his tentacles around him since the end of last week. That Friday he had realized he had almost lost her, again. Then, the following weekend had been spent in torment, wondering if he should call her. He had needed to know if she was okay, but then he didn't want to seem as if he was spying on her. So, in final he had sent her that short text, knowing that she would probably think that he was nuts, but he had to ask if she was okay. But then, not sure how she would take his interest for her, he had instead opted for a question about work, asking where she had put The Lessers' case. He knew she had it in her office, and she would probably tease him on Monday about his mind being on work when it was the weekend and he should rest, but at least, by her answer, he would know she was okay.

And that had been the only news he got from the whole weekend. He shook his head as to shave away that terrifying image he couldn't erase from his mind. Every time his thoughts drifted back to that day, he could see her, lyingdead in her own blood. He let out a heavy sigh, remembering those awful stitches on her arm as a painful statement of what destiny had almost taken from him, again. He swallowed the hard lump in his throat, his mind replaying that fateful scene again and again. He couldn't shake the idea that if he had arrived just few seconds later, she might have ended at the morgue, with more than a little scar. He closed his eyes, the scene as vivid in his memory as if it had happened yesterday.

As always when they entered a crime scene, he had checked with the uniforms on duty to know if the place was clear. Yes, had answered the young cop, the place is safe, Sir. He rubbed his face with his hand and let it lingered over his mouth. No, that day, the place hadn't been safe, far from it. As usual, Stella had remained in the main room, focusing her attention on the shattered glass on the floor near the DOA. In the meantime, he had searched the bathroom for eventualtraces of struggles. Finding nothing he had come back to the main room in time to see that shape sliding out of the closet and raising a long butcher knife towards his partner's back.

His blood had instantly run cold in his veins. "Stella," he had yelled, in pure panic. In slow motion, she had glanced over her shoulder and plunged to the ground on time to avoid the lethal blade. Few seconds later, the cold blade had biten her right forearm and her aggressor had raised the deadly weapon a second time to strike. But this time, he was already on the guy and with the force of his run, he had slammed him on the ground. Without thinking, his fists had collided with the guy's head, again and again. It was like pure rage had flown through him. He remembered, he was so angry that he had not even felt the blade slashing his shirt in different places. No, his mind had focused on the face of this deadly foe who had dared to touch his partenr. He had punched and punched, until he had been pulled from behind.

He shook his head, even then, his rage had been so high he had shot furious glare at who had dared interrupted him, until he had finally recognized it was Flack. Then, his eyes had rested on the man he had used as a punching ball. The guy was rasping loudly on the floor, his nose and lips bleeding, and frankly, he hadn't cared at all if had killed him. Sat on the floor, and his back against Flack's chest, Mac had pushed on his legs to stand. But his friend's arms had wrapped around him as to stop him from moving, and he had kept him still on the floor. He remembered clearly his friend's whispering to his ear. She's okay, Mac. She's okay. Then, his sight had searched for her, for Stella. Only when he had found her, his heart had started to beat again, and his blood to flood his brain and made him think. His rage had then subsided to be replaced by the somber realization of what he had just done. His eyes had widened at his bloody work; he had almost beaten the guy to death, though at the time, it wasn't really his concern. The only important thing was Stella being okay.

But then, he had crossed her scared eyes, and had wondered what she was going to think of him after his demonstration of uncontrolled violence. He had swallowed hard as she had kneeled before him, her hand before her mouth in worries. Sure, she couldn't appreciate having a wild beast for boss and friend. He had blinked before his sight went to her bloody wrist. The cut wasn't too deep, he had quickly analyzed and seeing how she was moving, it was hurting, but the blade hadn't gone very deep. He had thanked God for that little miracle, and then he had looked back at her scared, emerald eyes.

"Call an ambulance," she had yelled as she had looked at him with worries.

Of course, he had thought, seeing how he had beaten the guy, that perpwould probably need to be evacuated with an ambulance. And then his eyes had gone back to her wrist. Although he would make sure she would be taking care of before that bastard. But her next words had surprised him. "Officer down, hurry."

What? His mind had replayed. Who? Then, it had hit him as she was staring with fear at his chest. It's only at that moment he had realized how deep the blade had gone into his chest. He, was the officer down. Curiously he had felt as if all this had been a dream. He hadn't felt a thing, though his torn shirt was smeared with crimson stains every place the blade had slashed through it.

"Mac, oh God," she had said, her hands automatically pressing over the slashes as Flack had tightened his hold around him to keep him then, the pain had exploded in his chest as he had locked his eyes with hers.

He remembered Flack encouraging words. "You hanging there buddy, okay?"while his friend's hands had gripped his smeared vest and shirt to keep him upright. But Stella's glistening eyes were all he could think of. Why? Why could he see tears in her eyes? He was okay.

"I'm okay Stell," he had whispered as he had felt his adrenaline wearing off and the pain soaring with full force from his chest. It was burning and tearing through his flesh, but he was okay; she was fine. She was still with him and alive. It was all that mattered.

She had tried to plaster a small smile at his cocky reply, but had quickly renounced after he had left his head sag twice, and that she had to lift it to see his eyes.

"..bit tired," he had mouthed, apologetically to her.

"It's okay Mac," he had heard her say, before he had dozed off to reawaken several hours later in the ER, facing a pair of two worried emeralds.

Thankfully, none of his wounds had been really deep. So, after the doc in the ER had cleaned up his wounds, stitched him and bandaged his chest, he had convinced the him to let him out. As Stella had insisted he couldn't drive in his state, she had taken him back home. While the ride, he had noted with anger that she, too, had a white dressing wrapped around her forearm. Although he was glad she has been taken care of, that white fabric had remained the indelible proof of his failure to protect her.

He raised a pair of sad eyes toward the building. No, a week ago, he had almost lost her. For her, he would gladly take any cut or blow that could come her way, hell, he would take a bullet if that could save her life. He sighed. He pulled his cell phone and dialed hers, hoping that at the end of this weekend, they would still be friends. He had taken his decision, and soon he would know if he had been wrong.

"Hey," he spoke lightly, trying to shave away the remorse and sadness from his voice. She could be so disappointed by him in two days. He closed his eyes, and rubbed his forehead, trying to shave away his fears. No, he had to be cheerful. This weekend had to be special, and he wanted her to enjoy herself. It could really be their last happy time together as friends.

"Hey," answered his partner on a more cheerful tone. At least one of us is cheerful this morning. "Where are you?" she said her tone now amused and eager to see him.

He smiled. Even with simple words, she would always be able to light up the most darken room. "In the street. Can't come up, I'm not really parked on the right spot, so..."

"Okay, on my way. Stay put handsome," she lightly threw.

A wide grin spread over his lips at the all too, natural answer she had tossed. He smiled, she had probably not even realized she had said that. But anyway, he couldn't suppress a warm feeling at the idea of spending this whole weekend with a woman who had called him 'handsome' without even checking how he was dressed. He chuckled lightly, looking down at the outfit he had chosen for the trip. Surely, she would take it back when she would see him as he had finally opted for casual clothes, his suit long gone.

His gloved fingers wrapped around the handle wondering if she was going to accept her travel condition, or if she would give him a polite excuse; 'sorry, Mac, forgot to do something' and then leave him miserably. C'mon, Mac, he scolded himself. It's Stella. She won't find an excuse, when she could tell me the plain truth. He sighed, wondering if he wouldn't prefer the damn excuse that hearing her saying she had changed her mind. To add to that, he had kept secret their destination, and since he wanted it to be a surprise she would have to wait.

He let out a deep sigh wondering where she was. It has been more than five minutes.She should be downstairs by now. His sight searched through the people coming in and out of the building. Maybe she had spotted him and was hidden, laughing in a corner, or she was looking for that damn excuse. His anxiety increased again, and his fingers tightened the handles. What if she says no? His blood ran cold. Then, this whole trip would have no meaning. He swallowed, his nervous anxiety still creeping up his mind. Where are you, Stella?

Then, as if she had read his mind, here she was; dressed in a pair of tight, navy jeans and wearing her favorite, green, tank top that perfectly highlighted her curves. He smiled. At least, her outfit was perfect for this trip, including the brown knee high boots she had chosen, although seeing the small tiny vest she was holding in her hand, he was thankful he had thought about bringing that extra vest with him. He smiled shyly. Whatever she would have worn would have been perfect anyway.

The ride into the lift had been excruciating too long, like the night she had spent anyway, wondering what Mac was up to. But as soon as she had stepped out of her building, the world around her seemed to disappear in a thick haze. She could only see the one man sitting on his bike as if he had escaped from a road movie. A broad smile had spread over her face at the new side of her partner she was discovering. Until today, she had no clue he had a bike nor that he could ride one. Suddenly, a rush of excitement flooded her being and her mind started to fantasize about that black leather jacket he was wearing and how she could take it off. She grinned widely, trying to walk casually toward him as if her mind wasn't imagining things she shouldn't with her partner. Get a grip, Stella, it's Mac. With delight, she noted his sparkling eyes following her curves as she was approaching, while herself took a good look at his appearance. She delighted at the black, cladded jeans he had chosen over his heavy boots and the dark, navy sweater he was wearing under his leather jacket. Few feet from him, she watched as he swang with grace his leg from the other side of his Harley, the bike softly relieved from his weight.

"Hey," he shyly said, his eyes sparkling in amusement.

"I think we already did that," she replied with a warm smirk.

He chuckled lightly as he grabbed her duffel bag and stuffed it in one of the bags flanking his bike. Then, he turned a charming gaze toward her, happy she hadn't run away yet, and since she had accepted he took her bag; he assumed with relief that she had decided to stick with their initial plan.

"You look amazing," he said, hoping he wasn't crossing that invisible barrier they had built a long time ago.

"Thank you," she smiled warmly. "Though, I was right too," she stated with a grin.

"Right?" a light frown creased his face.

"That you are handsome." With delight, she saw Mac blushed lightly and turned to grab something in his bag. A wide grin spread over his face as he turned to her with a brown leather jacket in hand.

His heart pounded hard in his chest as he handed her his old, leather jacket. "You gonna need this," he stated. Then, his chin pointed at the small, summer vest she had in hand. "Kinda cold on the road," he added as to justify his actions.

She frowned. But then, a light smile carved her face. Without a word, she took the jacket. The fabric was worn out, and seemed to have seen years, but it was soft to the touch and she could see that the giant letters carved on the back were long gone. "Was it yours?" she asked in expectations to learn something about her partner.

"Huh, yeah." His hand rubbed awkwardly his neck as to give him some composure. "Had it for a long time before I changed for this one, a few years ago," he said pointing at his own, black jacket.

"Wow, cowboy, I'm not even sitting on your horse that you're giving me your clothes. I wonder what you'd do for our wedding then." She smirked.

"What?" blurted out a crimson Mac. "I'm not... I mean, it's not...Stell," he finally muffled, seeing her hand hiding a laugh.

"C'mon, Mac. You got to give me that. It was nice to see you embarrassed. Doesn't happen that often." She laughed even more.

"Not funny," he replied his brows creased before he started into a soft chuckle on his own. Well, finally, this long weekend could really turn into a good thing. Hopefully, she would keep that smile all along.

Still smiling broadly, Stella slid into Mac's old jacket and zipped it to her neck. Although Mac had larger shoulders, it wasn't too big for her, and she assumed he had probably bought it when he was much younger. Taking a deep breath, she delighted in the sweet scent of his perfume still lingering inthe jacket. Then, he handed her a black, half helmet, and put a similar one on with a boyish smile.

"Ready?" he asked as he slid his black shades over his nose with a charming smile.

"Whenever you want, handsome," she quipped.

With a big grin, he sat on the Harley and took off the leg from the curb, his hands already turning on the engine. He glanced at Stella as the bike roared softly. Shyly, she sat behind him, and a broad smile grazed her lips as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

His heart ready to explode, Mac felt her arms shyly wrapping around him. "Hold on tight," he said, as he stepped on the gear and the bike left the curb where he had parked.

Instinctively, she tightened her hold around her partner, wondering where Mac Taylor was planning to take her. Though right now, he could take her to the other side of the world, as long as she was with him and holding him tight, it didn't really matter.

xxx

The warm summer sun graced their silhouettes as they finally made it out of the noisy New York. Mac took a road aside the big frequented highway, and the Harley softly vibrated under his command as she was finally able to take a more natural course. He liked riding on deserted roads, and he was glad they were finally out of the Big Apple. He loved New York, but it wasn't the best place to ride his bike. It was mostly why, he was rarely riding it unless, he felt the need for it, like this weekend. He delighted at the scenery slowly changing around them. The tall skyscrapers had quickly been replaced by smaller, brick buildings, followed by private houses, and now he could distinguish the mountains in the horizon.

He hoped, Stella was enjoying the trip as much as he. Though she hadn't really spoken since she had sat behind him, and that silence was making him more nervous. Was she regretting of coming with him? If it was the case, she would have said something, unless she didn't want to hurt him. He sighed. Maybe he should ask her. He cringed in advance at her possible negative answer. Trying to hide as much as he could his growing anxiety, he spoke on a light tone. "You holdin' up?"

"Hadn't plannedgoing on biker this morning when I woke up, but it's great!" she exclaimed from behind him, her voice partly muffled by the strong wind.

Mac smiled, his anxiety quickly fading at her excited words. But his heart skipped once more in his chest as her arms tightened around him, and her head leaned on his back. She surely was trying to enjoy herself, he realized with a smirk. Not that it bothered him, it was even the contrary, as a warm feeling invaded his body and he had to concentrate on the road not to let his mind wandered, and fantasized about his partner. He blushed slightly. Hopefully, she couldn't see his face right now, but it could become dangerous, after all he was the driver. Right, his mind warned, stay focus, Mac.

As the wind softly blew on her face, Stella pressed her cheek against Mac's back. She didn't know what was really going on with her partner lately, but she was enjoying this side of his personality. Tightening her hold around his waist, and her ear pressed against his back, she enjoyed feeling his body close to hers. It felt good and somehow right, as if she had always belonged there. She smiled, happy. She could even hear his heart beating, even skipping every time she tightened her arms around him. She smiled inwardly at the effect she was having on him. Until now, she had no idea his heart was beating so fast when she was touching him. Her face became warm, and she knew it wasn't due to the soft, summer breeze, but more to her own blood flushing her cheeks at the mischievous ideas her mind was lingering into, her partner being the center of all her intentions. Then, her smile faded as the bike slowed down and Mac pulled over in front of adiner. With regret, she released her hold on him.

"Let's have a good breakfast before we continue," he said, his leg sliding over the bike.

He pulled off his helmet, and she couldn't suppress a grin at his disheveled hair spiked in disorder. Catching her amused stare, he took off his gloves and quickly brushed back the rebellious strands of hair.

"Always does that," he said shyly. "Are you hungry?" he asked with a warm smile as he gave her his hand while she jumped off the bike.

Hungry? Of course, she was, but maybe not for food, she thought mischieviously, as she grabbed his hand and got off the bike. Mac seemed to notice her trail of thoughts as his own cheeks took a rosy color, before he turned awkwardly toward the diner to hide his face. No, seriously, there was something going on with him, she could bet her life on it.

"Shall we go?" he asked with a big grin as his hand gave her a light squeeze.

Nodding, she followed him as he had kept her hand in his. She smiled at the feeling of possession he was suddenly showing towards her.

The small diner smelled of freshly brewed coffee and fried bacon, noted Stella as they pushed the door. The bell lightly chimed as to announce two more visitors.

"Take a seat," greeted them a tall blond waitress, dressed in white clothing and a pink apronaround her waist.

Mac led them to a small booth in a quiet corner and unzipped his jacket, revealing his dark, navy sweater. Stella smiled at the fabric cladding perfectly his muscular frame, and let her eyes wandered a bit longer over the small V-neck showing his bare skin underneath. She bit her bottom lip, feeling suddenly more adventurous than in the last month, and wondered what was going on with her too? It was Mac, for Godsake, she was with, not some pretty boy chasing her with only one idea in mind. No, with Mac she knew that his mind was filled with so many things, and his heart wounded so many times that for their small escape to become a romantic trip it would take at least an earthquake. She sighed. But she couldn't fault him, after all she had never made her feelings very clear to him. Though now, she was wondering again if this weekend wasn't her opportunity, though if his answer was no, then the rest of the trip would be really awkward. Then, later, she promised herself.

It was still early in the morning, and the sun was starting to grace its warmth through the giant panel window in a thin veil of light. Mac marveled at the light mist lingering between them as Stella had taken the seat right in front of him. He would have preferred her close to him, but having her in front of him was giving him another perspective. He grinned inwardly at the thoughts that invaded his mind as she took off her jacket to toss it on the bench. Her green top was lovely cutting her frame, and he let his eyes praised her beauty when the waitress interrupted him.

"What you guys want?" the young blond asked with a broad smile.

Staring at the menu, Stella answered first. "I'll have the bacon pancakes with a black coffee," she said before she turned to Mac.

"Same," he replied, his face creased with a light frown as he gave his menu to the waitress.

"Wow, are you really planning to eat all this Mac?" quipped Stella. "You gonna be stuffed for the whole week," she teased him.

He glanced at the waitress leaving with their orders, before his sparkling green, ocean eyes rested on Stella. "Funny, miss I'm-eating-an-apple-for-my-diet."

"That was a long time ago," she retorted with a grin.

"Sure," he playfully added. "Last week is a very long time."

"How did you know?" she asked bemused. Since he had surprised her eating only apples for lunch, and had teased her about it, she had made a game to eat them while he wasn't around and couldn't see her. After all, she had sworn she was done with the round fruit. So how did he know that?

"I'm a detective, remember?" he raised a brow. Of course he knew. He had always considered important, anything that could concern her, even from afar, it was his job as a friend to know that. Not that he stalked her or something like that, God, no. But she had always been there for him, and he didn't want to miss the moment when she would need him and he would be too busy to notice her pain. He sighed, though he had done it once, when Jess had died. The view of Danny in that wheelchair had made him lost the sight of what was the most precious thing in his life, his best friend. He had wrongly assumed that looking for their shooters would protect them, forgetting that the danger could soar from within while they had all drifted apart. As the boss, he should have stayed at the helm, not getting involved and let his emotions aside. He should have checked to see that all his friends were doing okay, but he had forgotten how it hurt to lose someone so close, and it had hit him harder than he had thought. The deep burn of loss had bitten to his flesh too. And to cool that burning wound, he had raised more walls around him, hindering him to see his friends in need. He sighed and for that he would never be able to amend himself enough. Somehow, he felt as he had let them all down, including his faithful partner. He sighed as he had done last week, his mind painfully reminded him.

Her lips tightened at the shadow she could see in Mac's eyes. He seemed lost in the depth of his soul, and she could bet it wasn't in a bright shining place right now. "Mac," she called, but her words didn't seem to penetrate his invisible shield. "Mac?" she repeated, but this time, her hand covered his and squeezed it lightly. Then life seemed to flow again in his body as his eyes darted with uncertainty toward her.

"Sorry, I was..." his brows creased. "I was..."

"Very far, I know," she finished for him, her thumb stroking gently the back of his hand. He didn't need to explain himself. She already knew, that, out of guilt, he was probably looking for a way to amend things he falsely thought he had done wrong. She sighed inwardly, in all her life, she had never come across a man like him, always striving to do good. There was nothing he had done wrong. He might have done mistakes along the way but so did she. After all they were all human beings, and what made them better was their desire to do good, especially him and his tenacious love for justice.

His eyes rose on her lovely face bathed by the morning sun and his mind lingered on their quiet touch. It felt good to feel her warm fingers stroking his skin, knowing that she was alive, that the nightmares he had since she had escaped that fateful blade weren't real. Though, they hadn't been new. Every time she had brushed death; with Frankie, her HIV situation, her burning apartment, the greek ambassy; every time then, he had dreamed of her fateful death. And every night, he had woken up in sweats at the sound of his own sobs, and the cold feeling of her dead body cradled in his arms; always crying as he had done so often after he had lost Claire, his heart realizing that he had been powerless to save both.

He cursed, maybe it was why Peyton had left him the first time. He remembered how bitter she had been on several mornings, telling him that he should stop worrying about everyone and start to care for those who were with him. Had he then pronounced Stella's name one night? He closed his eyes, focusing on her delicate fingers caressing his hand. He wasn't dreaming, this was real. She hadn't been killed like Claire. I haven't lost her too, his mind repeated as to make it more real.

"You okay, Mac," Stella whispered almost afraid to wake him up brutally.

He nodded slightly, opening his eyes. His turquoise pools were caught in a bright sunrays and his eyes turned into a pure, blue crystal. She smiled warmly, giving his hand a firmer squeeze as to say that she would be there when he would need to talk. With a small nod, he looked down at their entwinned hands. Whatever was bothering him, hadn't been left at the office, she realized sadly. No, it had to be related to something else. But what was it?

The waitress brought their orders, and they had to break their touch to leave room for the plates. Stella watched with increased worries as Mac picked into his food without a word. "So," she started. She knew that sooner or later he would tell her what was bothering him but for that he needed to be ready, and right now, he seemed he needed a distraction and that, she could provide. "Where are you taking me?"

A small grin immediately lighted up his face as he glanced at her, his eyes sparkling in expectations, and she knew she had hit the right field. But deep down, those turquoise pools she could see that a dark shadow was still waiting to resurface, as it had only been put on hold.

"Can't tell ya right now." He plastered a smile, trying to be more cheerful, and swallowing a piece of pancake. Then, his eyes became very serious and he seemed to stare at her. "Do you trust me?"

His question took her aback as his face looked deadly serious. "With my life, Mac," she retorted with the same serious expression he was giving her.

He looked at her as if he was seeing her for the first time in days, and the shadow reappeared behind his eyes. With my life, Mac. Her words echoed in his mind. Life, he had almost lost by being careless, he cursed inwardly. But her answer had come out of her mouth without hesitation or second thought. He swallowed the somber thoughts his mind had dwelled again on and remembered why he had asked her to come. Time wasn't to dwell on the mistakes of the past. No, he had to talk to her, and hopefully he would have found the right words before they reach their destination.

"We will arrive tomorrow." He saw a light frown appearing on her face. "I thought that today we could enjoy the ride," he finished, hoping she wasn't disappointed.

"Sounds good to me," she finally said as her hand went to gently pat his arm. But why only today? Why not enjoying the ride tomorrow too? Was he dreading something when they would reach their goal, wherever it was?

His eyes followed her arm and stopped on the small dressing appearing underneath her sleeve. He clenched his jaw, and tensed, gripping the hold on his fork. The white dressing was like a clear demonstration of his inability to protect her. He had been so close to lose her.

Stella followed his eyes and noted the dark shadow back in his look at the view of her arm. What could possibly bother him? Then, the sudden realization hit her as she saw the white fabric protruding from the green cloth. "Can't even feel it," she said as to answer his unspoken question and reassure him that she was fine.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his eyes trying to find forgiveness in her green emeralds, although he knew he didn't deserve it.

"Accident, Mac. Things happen, right? Besides, I do recall clearly that you needed more stitches than me," she teased, but deep inside she had been worried sick the whole weekend, not knowing if he didn't need her help. After all, once again, he had saved her life. If he hadn't been there, or calling her name, that cold blade would have made bigger damage than the small graze on her wrist

Frankly, she had cursed her big mouth that weekend. She had promised to a friend to help her move her furniture to New Jersey. It had taken them the whole weekend to move everything, while her mind had drifted to Mac. She had assumed he was probably alone in his apartment, brooding because the doc had told him not to work for at least two days. During this time, she had been moving furniture, making small talk, while all she wanted, was to be with him, and be sure he was okay. Thankfully, he had sent that small text, and she had been more than happy to answer back, though it was work related, but then, it still meant that he was okay. It's only on Monday that she had seen him. His face even paler than when he had left the ER had wrenched her heart. She had known then that he hadn't rested of the weekend. Thinking of it, it was since that morning, that he had started to shell back again into his old brooding mode, but this time, sadly, she hadn't been able to make him talk.

"Accident," he nodded not convince by her argument. He had failed her, and that was the only thing he could think of. He sighed, but he knew, he wasn't smiling that much since he had let his thought drifted back to that day. So, he summoned his best charming smile and changed the subject, after all, he wanted this weekend to be special, and he couldn't imagine it to be that enjoyable for her, if he was keeping a brooding face. No, he had to make it up to her. "Then, I can take you anywhere?" he teased, hoping she would get the hint and take on their favorite banter.

She raised her brows, noting immediately his change of attitude. With a light frown, she accepted to change the subject. She didn't want to push him too far if he wasn't ready to speak, and watching him trying to give his best to make her smile couldn't remain unnoticed on her part. "Anywhere," she repeated, receiving a more suspicious look from her partner.

His smile lighted his face. Anywhere. His mind played with the idea. Of course, he wasn't going to take her to the other side of the world, but his plan wasn't that far. He grinned inwardly, hoping she would really like their trip.

As he finished his plate, he cuddled his cup of coffee, glancing to catch her sparkling eyes every once in a while.

"What?" she asked playfully after his fifth or sixth glances as she had stopped counting.

"Nothing," he stated innocently. How could he tell her that he was admiring the softness of her skin, or the gracing curves or her face? He rolled his eyes as his cheek lightly flushed, knowing she wasn't going to buy his answer anyway.

"No, Mac there's something. So what? Did I spit syrup on my shirt or what?"

He gave her a shy smile. "Sorry, I was..." he paused, then his eyes sparkled with the sunrays. "...just enjoying the moment," he admitted, his eyes back to his black coffee reflecting his nervous smile. In fact, he was more than enjoying her company. He felt at peace when she was around. She was his rock in the tempest of his chaotic life.

She smiled back. If Mac Taylor was now indulging himself with 'a moment', then, she was really worried. She took a slow breath, hoping that whatever was bothering him wasn't something that bad, and that she would be able to help him. But now, she was starting to wonder.

"Are you done?" his voice came softly, as if he was afraid of disturbing her.

She stared at her empty plate and then at her empty cup too. She smiled, she had been so deep in her thoughts she hadn't seen she had finished a while ago. "Yep, ready," she looked at him and saw him smile again. She really could get use to him smiling that much.

Leaving some bills near his plate, Mac grabbed her hand and watched amused as she blushed at his possessive gesture. "Ready to ride my horse?" he teased.

She stepped closer and her arm brushed his with a small twinkling in her eyes. "Oh, you have no idea, mister," she quipped with a warm smile, her hand lightly resting over his chest as she stood in front of him.

Mac chuckled as she was only inches of him, and he tried awkwardly to hide his beating heart and the warm feeling soaring through his body. Calm down, Mac. She has no idea what she's doing to you right now? He took a deep breath and his eyes connected with the mischievous smile he could read in her eyes. Or did she? With this dreading question in mind, and not sure he wanted to know right there, he squeezed tightly her hand, and led them out of the diner. He needed air, and they had to keep going, his mind shot as an excuse, and he had to slow down his heart before he died of a heart attack, he added for himself. Damn it, he cursed. If only things had been more simple between them. But he couldn't change the past, no, he could only try to build a future.

Stella smiled beside Mac. The sun was higher now, and its warm rays were starting to heat the landscape before them. Taking a deep breath, she indulged her sight in the beautiful golden fields before her. Or was it because her mood was suddenly feeling adventurous? She had to admit that as a Foster child bred in New York City, she had in rare occasions visited the country, only when her cases allowed her to. But then, it was never really far from New Jersey, and the places had always remained built and crowded, apart from Greece of course. She glanced at Mac, who was keeping a shy smile plastered on his face, his shades back over his nose. Then, his face changed and a boyish grin curved his lips.

"Anywhere," he repeated as he sat on his Harley. Mac gazed at the bike, thinking about the whole possibilities offered by a single word, anywhere.

Thinking of it, Stella wondered if she hadn't made a pact with the devil, seeing Mac's wicked grin playing on his lips. But she couldn't take it back now. She gulped lightly. Whatever her partner was up to couldn't be that bad anyway, right?

"Sure," she retorted, putting her helmet on and zipping her jacket. She sat behind him, and found comforting as her arms found their way back to Mac's waist as it was all too natural. She felt him trembling lightly as her hands closed over his chest and pressed lightly his jacket, to keep him firmly against her. His heart skipped, and once again she smiled inwardly of his reaction. Yep, whatever plan he had in mind, she knew how to get the better hand on him now. Her cheeks blushed, and that could become in handy.

Mac swallowed as her arms tightened around him, and he had to fight his body's reaction to focus on the next stop. "Ready," he called, but honestly, feeling as she had snaked her arms around him, he wondered if it was really useful to ask. With her tight hold, she wasn't ready to fall.

"Let's go cowboy," she shouted behind him. Whatever was bothering him, she knew by holding him so tight, that they would overcome it. They were strong together, and together they could face anything.

"Hang on!" he shot back with a big smile. His foot stepped gently on the gear and his Harley pulled slowly from the small parking lot and went back to the deserted road. The shining, summer sun reflected its rays in his shades as Mac looked at his rear-view mirror and gazed at a smiling Stella. Hold on to me, Stella. I promise you won't regret it.

...TBC

A/N: Okay, this was meant to be a oneshot but then, our heroes got the better hand of me and now it's gonna be a bit longer. Still don't know how long. Now, thanks for reading and don't forget to let me know what you thought of it.

But anyway, what do you think? Should I continue this?