A/N: Boy, am I on a roll! Two stories in two days! XD By the way, if you enjoy this story, there's a chance you might enjoy my other CSI: NY fic. You'll find it. It's the only other one I've written. xD
Det. Bonasera: Presenting the first CSI:NY fic that Wizard has written where Danny, Aiden, Lindsay, Hawkes or Flack are not in any of the scenes below!
Wizard: It was a sad, sad departure. It's so incredibly hard to not write Aiden, Danny, Hawkes or Flack. Lindsay, not so much because I don't like her. xD -dodges the icky fruit that is thrown at her- Anyway, enjoy!
Disclaimer: Wizard in Disguise does not own CSI:NY. If she did, Mac and Stella would've already happened.
But even though CSI:NY does not belong to the author, people should understand that Stella belongs to Mac! Got it? Good. xD
Detective Stella Bonasera gave her eyes a sleepy rub.
She groaned again as her stomach gave a small grumble, obviously indicating that it needed food. She was bent on not eating. She wasn't anorexic- hell, no, she was already thin enough but she knew that any food she cooked was inedible and probably toxic. She sat on her couch, watching the black invention in her living room. She hadn't been able to sleep. Instead of tossing and turning in her bed and giving her hair an unnecessary Medusa look, she opted for stumbling to the couch and turning on the TV. She had no idea medical dramas were on so late.
She was watching House, M.D. on a channel that seemed to be obsessed with sexually explicit ads. The one she found most disturbing was when the narrator for the ad adopted a sultry voice and said, "Oh, you know you want me. I'm sleek, I'm cute, I'm cool…" That went on for several seconds before the screen changed to a picture of a car. It was a few moments before Stella realized that the narrator was talking about a car.
A car, she thought, her eyes widening in disbelief. This lady is talking about a stupid car!
She tried to concentrate her attention on the doctors on the screen. She watched Dr. Lisa Cuddy turn around slightly and face Dr. Gregory House.
"How's your hooker doing?" she asked.
"Oh, sweet of you to ask," House replied with equal wit, obviously talking about her. "Funny story- she was going to be hospital administrative but just hated having to screw people like that." He gave a small shrug.
Stella smiled at that line. She gave the writers who wrote this a mental applaud.
"I heard you found him on the roof," said Cuddy, with a small hint of a smile as she asked about House's patient.
"You have very acute hearing," House responded quickly.
"You notify the parents?"
House gave a small nod. "In due course, of course."
Dr. Cuddy gave a slight cock of her head as she hugged her files to her chest.
"And is there a paternal bet on the father of the patient?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
House gave a small mocking frown and he turned towards his best friend, Dr. James Wilson. "That doesn't sound like me," he said, narrowing his eyes.
"Well, it does actually," said Dr. Wilson, looking towards House as he stuffed his hands in his pants pockets. "But it doesn't mean you're guilty."
"You think?"
A feminine voice joined the conversation once again.
"I saw the parents in the lobby," Cuddy said. She gave a shrug with her shoulders. "Smart money's obviously on the father."
House looked at Wilson quickly before returning his attention to the absolutely gorgeous hospital administrator. He leaned forwards.
"My guy knows a guy who can get you in for fifty bucks," he said, smirking slightly.
"Fine, tell your guy if I win, you attend the Faculty Symposium and you wear a tie."
"And if I win," House said, the smug smile still playing on his thin lips. "No clinic hours for a week." He was met with an equally smug smile from Cuddy.
She gave a small turn before looking back at House.
"My guy will call your guy," she said before walking away, not noticing that House's eyes were following her.
Dr. Wilson gave a very, very small smile.
"She's very good at her job," he said, agreeing with the statement House had thought but not said.
House looked at him.
When that scene ended, Stella couldn't help but give a small laugh. The sexual tension was absolutely hilarious and very well-done! There were only a few TV shows who could manage tension like that before writers gave in and made the whole relationship lovey-dovey. She bit her lip as her stomach once again emitted a low growl. After several minutes of gulping and trying to ignore the growing hunger in her stomach, she decided that she would rather face the fact that she would probably die from food poisoning than starvation.
She headed over to her fridge, bending over to find some edible food that she could cook. She took out two eggs, hoping that that would satisfy her hunger. She turned on the stove, adjusting the heat to the maximum. She poured some oil in and she left it for a couple of minutes for it to get to the heat that she needed to cook her eggs. She turned her attention back to the TV. Before she could finish watching a scene, she became quite aware of smoke coming up from the pan. She quickly reached over the pan, turning the heat a notch down, not exactly helping by much. She cracked both of the eggs, turning the heat to the maximum again.
After a few minutes of watching TV, she turned back to the pan. She reached for a utensil and held it in her hand, glaring at the pan, not exactly noticing the quickly burning egg. I can do this, she thought, holding the utensil like a weapon. I can do this. I am Stella Bonasera! I don't give up. She headed towards the pan and her eyes widened as she discovered how burnt her egg really was. And her miniscule kitchen was already filling up in smoke.
She heard a foreign cough. She instinctively reached for her gun in the holster but she grasped at thin air, suddenly remembering she had left her gun on her bedside table. She turned off the stove, unwittingly pushed the burnt egg off the pan and onto her wooden counter and armed herself with the pan. She cautiously stepped towards the continuous coughs.
"Freeze, NYPD!" she yelled.
"I know that, Stella," replied a familiar voice. "You didn't try to cook again, did you?"
"Mac!" she exclaimed happily. Now that he was here, he could cook for her! She beamed brightly and launched herself on him, giving him a grateful hug. He patted her back awkwardly.
"What are you doing up so late?" he asked her, holding her at arm's length when she let go.
"I could ask you the same question," she said primly.
"I had a double shift," he explained, hanging up his coat and opening up Stella's windows so the smoke could go out. "I wanted to see how you were doing."
"And what would you have done if I were sleeping?"
"Put the teddy bear that you love to cuddle up with back in your arms. I've never understood how you manage to kick it off the bed, even when you're hugging it so tightly."
Stella would've thought Mac was so sweet had it not been for the fact that she was embarrassed.
"You found out about Teddy?!" she shrieked, her face tomato red.
"Of course, Stella,"
"But you violated my privacy!"
"It's not exactly a violation of your privacy when I'm your best friend. Besides, I'm hurt that you didn't tell me you had a bedmate."
Stella was not at all startled by Mac. He tended to be like this outside of work. He struggled to keep things absolutely professional on the job but when Stella and he were dining out, he let go and let all his words flow out of him.
"Mac!" she whined.
Mac grinned before he sighed and said, "Fine, I'm sorry for violating your privacy."
"That's more like it," Stella said, her slight pout disappearing. "And your apology will be accepted if you cook me something to eat."
He gave a small smile before bowing slightly, "Of course, your Majesty. Your wish is my command."
Stella grinned before she moved into the living room.
About twenty minutes after, Detective Mac Taylor emerged with two beautifully cooked golden-brown omelets. Stella gasped in delight. Using the fork Mac had passed to her, she speared one of the omelet. She tore a small piece using the fork and her fingers and shoved it into her mouth. Mac smiled at her 'slightly' disgusting habits.
"This is amazing, Mac!" Stella crowed, a happy smile gracing her lips. "Where'd you learn how to cook?"
"My mom," he said simply. "She believed that just because I was a boy didn't mean that I could go out and play all the time. She made me do housework and forced me to learn how to cook."
"Oh," there was a hint of sadness in Stella. "You're lucky."
Mac smiled, sensing her feelings, and said, in a mission to cheer Stella up, "Yes, I am. But I think I felt the luckiest when I got you as a partner."
Her eyes got misty. She put down her plate on the green couch quickly and lunged at Mac, clutching him tightly. She sat herself on his lap as she continued to hug him. Her ridiculously brown curly hair was in his face but he didn't mind. He liked it like this, actually.
"You're the sweetest man on the earth," she exclaimed when she let go and held him at arm's length.
"Thank you," he said, bowing his head.
"I'm serious,"
"I know you are."
"Good. Now let us stop yapping and start shoving food down our mouths."
"That only applies to you, Stel. I like to eat without looking like a pig."
You could practically hear the grin in his voice.
There was a playful slap aiming for Mac's arm. It hit the intended target.
"Ow…"
Mac looked at his watch. It read 2:00 am. Had they really stayed up this late? He looked back at the television screen. NUMB3RS was on. Every now and then, he would feel like shouting at the screen, how they were collecting evidence wrong and how they were contaminating it. He enjoyed it, however. And he enjoyed Stella's giggles whenever the mathematician/FBI consultant, Charlie Eppes came on.
"It's late," he finally said. "I should go now."
He got up and walked over to the door, shrugging his coat on. He was about to leave when he heard Stella speak.
"Mac, why don't you just spend the night? I mean, I don't really trust you to drive home by yourself. And if you didn't take a car, not taking a cab and spending the night would save you money."
"Boy, you really have everything figured out, don't you, Stel?" he said jokingly.
"Of course," came a teasing reply. "How else do you think I manage to convince you to do stuff?"
Mac hung up his coat again.
"Fine," he said. "I'll sleep on the couch."
Another exasperated sigh was heard and then a deadpanned voice, "Mac. We're both adults. We can handle sleeping in the same bed."
Mac smiled. She always seemed to say that.
"Fine," he said again. "But you sure Teddy won't mind sharing the bed with me?"
Stella glared.
A/N: Yeah! I finally have an explanation for why Mac is so OOC. Stella isn't out of character that much, I hope. Stella's much easier to write because she's spunky, sarcastic, happy and bright! xD When you describe Stella, she sure as hell sounds like a mary-sue but seriously, who doesn't love her? I sure as hell do.
Anyway, please review! You get a SMacked plushie if you do. xD