Time to go

Disclaimer: I have two dogs who remind me of Mac and Stella, but I don't own them, or any of the CSI:NY characters.

Real life bad news demanded a counter-reaction, and here it is:

He unfolds the letter, again and over again. He has lost count of how many times he has done it today, in the hope that something about it changes. Something about its message, preferably.

He looks through his glass walls. The usual bustle of the lab, people unaware. What can they do anyway? He wonders if the lab will be able to continue its work after this news. His frown disappears behind his hands rubbing over his face.

Most people unaware, he corrects himself. He's sure Stella will know something is wrong as soon as she sees him. Even more so if he tries to hide it.

So he doesn't try to hide it. Much as he would like to keep it away from her, like any other harm. He shoves the letter to the side of his desk. Maybe if he distracts himself …. There is after all work to be done, a lot of work, before …

He finds himself looking at the letter again. How can a few words have such an impact?

She looks at him, from outside those glass walls. They can't keep her at a distance, not even if he'd pull them up around himself. She knows he knows that. But giving him time she takes time to study him, brooding in the gloom of his office.

A faint breeze of energy accompanying the sound of her knuckles on the glass tells him that she has entered. He looks up.

"Hey." trying to smile.

"Hey." she points at the clock, "Shift's over. What's keeping you here?"

She sits on the corner of his desk before he can reply. Her eyes exploring him, but waiting, giving him the chance to avoid this conversation.

He feels her warm breath pulsing through the air. Life.

He avoids looking at the letter, lets his finger trace imaginary lines over his desk. Her hand on the desk, close, but not stopping him.

He sees her looking in the direction of the letter. She knows that is the reason for his mood. She must have been watching him longer than he thought.

"Do you know what's in that letter?"

She eyes the letter, folded as it lies on the table. "I know it's from Gerrard, so, bad news I guess." He nods. "But we'll get by. And what really matters …" she puts her hands on the top of his chair and turns it around swiftly and for a moment he feels like a child on a carousel, "… is this."

He's face to face with the view from his window, seems to see it with her eyes. The blue sky reflected in windows, a silver tinge here, a spark of green there. He feels her hand on his shoulder, cooling his temper, warming his heart.

"You're right."

She smiles warmly. Of course I'm right.

"But that's not all that matters."

Oh? Her eyebrows solicit an explanation.

What really matters is that I have you in my life.

He lets his hands speak the thought for him, and he's sure she understands as her curls brush over his cheek in response.

"Now let's go and get out of here." she gently tugs his hand. He follows her with a smile.

So, yeah, I have people like Gerrard in my life, sigh … but also those two dogs :). Thanks for taking the time to read. Please let me know what you think, good or bad. All comments are appreciated, and replied to if logged.