A Clue to Love

Mac Taylor considered himself a firm believer in the scientific method. He used the process of collecting evidence, forming a hypothesis, and proving or disproving the theory often to determine the truth in many cases that passed through the doors of the crime lab.

A new puzzle had entered the crime lab, but it wasn't a question of how a victim died. The mystery he faced was the anger of his best friend and partner, Stella Bonasera. Normally a relatively rational woman, Stella had maintained a stormy temperament for the last two weeks and didn't show any signs of stopping. This could be one case where science didn't stand a chance.

Mac pulled out a notebook he kept for just such mental quandaries, when he needed to visualize an issue. He moved all the other case folders to the side of his desk and wrote in all caps, "Why is Stella Angry?" He shook his head that he was even considering this situation like a case to be solved, but to his credit, he had tried his usual tactics, which normally consisted of him asking what was wrong, and her telling him followed by a cup of coffee and some meaningful conversation to work out the issue. Sometimes the problem was professional, sometimes it was personal, but they had yet to come across one they couldn't solve together. Until now.

Focused back on the notepad, Mac started to list his observations and then paused. Was it really necessary to formalize the fact that she wouldn't talk to him and when she did, her answers were brief and strained? After a few minutes he decided, yes, he should follow normal procedure and started listing a few of the observations he had made which had led him to the conclusion that Stella was angry. Over the last few weeks, besides keeping communication to a bare minimum, she had honed the skill of avoiding being in the same room with him alone. Their caseload was unusually high as of late, which spread the team pretty thin when taking cases, but even so, Stella had gone out of her way to make sure that the only interaction she had with Mac was turning in case summaries which she could easily manage to do without seeing him at all. One thing he had learned from his recent observation, he had noticed that the lack of communication seemed to be limited to just himself. He had seen her go over cases with the other members of the team and joke and tease with them during break times. Mac went back to the top of the piece of paper and added a few words and reread his title, "Why is Stella Angry with Me?"

The problem-solving tool Mac felt was most appropriate to use in this situation was the one he liked to call 'Finding the Fork'. This had nothing to do with eating, it was simply a method to go backwards in a scenario and identify where a new behavior or pattern had begun. What had changed with Stella that had caused his status to go from best friend to persona non grata?

He smiled a little at that thought. Only Stella could make him think like this. He was her boss, he could demand she talk to him, but he valued the role of her friend much more. She was certainly capable of running cases without his input and her work was clean and efficient so he could hardly call her in to discuss her job performance.

Refocused, he thought back to the last time he had felt normal with her. It must have been after the Mayor's Conference on Crime, which had actually been more of a PR event than the round table discussion it was touted as. Regardless, both he and Stella were required to attend. They had shared a cab to the event and once all the necessary handshaking and picture posing had been done, they had left together and had decided to have dinner. They had eaten at Marco's, one of their favorites, had enjoyed regular conversation, some personal, some business, but nothing out of the ordinary. Before heading home, Stella had mentioned she needed to run by the grocery store and would he mind going with her? He had immediately agreed, he was running low on a few items himself. They both did their shopping and shared a cab to her apartment. Always the gentleman, he helped carry her items up and then returned to the street where the cab was waiting to take him to his own apartment. None of those events stood out, they had done the exact same kinds of things other times without incident.

He tried to rewind that evening in his head, searching for any bit of conversation or reaction that could have resulted in her anger. Nothing stood out. When he'd left her apartment, she had kissed him on the cheek, like she often did. His cheek tingled, his smile held, and his chest felt warm where her hand had rested all the way downstairs, but he had to admit that reaction was nothing new. He quickly pushed aside his more than best friend reaction to Stella's pecks on the cheek. To the outside world, the act was a sign of affection between two people who had been through a lot together. Internally, he knew the thrill he felt from her kiss crossed the line, but he was always careful to not react. The last thing he wanted to do was to make her feel uncomfortable. Regardless, the summary of the evening was nothing new, nothing different than a hundred other times they had attended some boring event together or run errands together or eaten a meal together.

Nevertheless, the next time he had seen her at work, she was all business. He had brought her coffee when he had gone downstairs to get his own that morning and though she thanked him, she had seem distracted and had left the cup in the break room, untouched. He hadn't given it that much thought at the time, but in retrospect, it was the first sign of a problem. Since she hadn't seen him since he left her apartment to the time when he gave her the coffee, he had to assume the change had occurred between the two occasions.

He looked down at his paper and had nothing to show for his thoughts. He wrote, 'Problem is personal,' then rubbed his face. This analysis was going nowhere fast. He put his pen down, checked his watch, grabbed his suit jacket from the back of his chair and quickly put it on. "I need more data," he proclaimed to his office walls and headed out the door.

Mac knocked on her loft door, checked his watch again to make sure he wasn't too late and read 11 o'clock. Late for some, he realized not everyone in the city kept the odd hours he and his team did, but Stella should be up. At that moment, the door opened, but only as far as the security chain would let it. "Hi Mac, did you need something?"

"I was just in the neighborhood so I thought I would check on you."

"I'm fine."

"Can I come in?"

"This isn't really a good time."

"Oh, OH," Mac realized that maybe she wasn't alone and involuntarily looked past her to try to see who was there. "But you're okay?"

The door shut, but quickly reopened and he was forcefully pulled into her new residence.

"Yes, Mac, I'm fine."

She was obviously alone which was a great relief, but Mac took the opportunity to study her. Even in her tank top and pajama bottoms, and her hair piled in a bun on the top of her head, the woman was beautiful. "We haven't had the chance to talk lately."

Stella looked down, "No, I've been really busy."

"With work?"

"Yeah."

"If you need a break, you can take a few days off, more if you want."

"I don't need a break," she returned, but said nothing else.

"I guess I'll let you get back to your evening then. Sorry to have bothered you."

"You didn't bother me, I just have a few things I'm trying to work out."

Mac nodded and offered a quiet "Goodnight" and left, the door closed swiftly behind him. He hadn't made it a few steps when he heard a loud groan and what sounded like the full weight of her body falling against her side of the door. Normally, he would have tried to go back inside to check on her, but in light of recent events, he just returned to stand in front of her door until he heard her move around again and then quietly walked away.

Back on the street, he decided he was at a loss. He knew the male gender was thought to be the less sensitive of the two sexes, but he was a professional observer. The City of New York paid him a decent amount of money for those very same skills and he found it hard to believe he couldn't figure out what had Stella upset. If anything, he confirmed the problem Stella had was with him. He decided to skip the cab and keep walking; maybe something useful would come to him.

The next morning, Stella walked in to her office and found flowers on the corner of her desk. Mac watched covertly and noticed how she smiled when she first walked in. He smiled with her, knowing the arrangement contained a mix of her favorites. She pulled open the card and read the words he had written just minutes ago, "Hope you have a good day, I'm here if you need me. Mac." Expecting a positive reaction, he was surprised when her smile vanished and she walked the vase of flowers to the break room and threw away the card.

Clearly he was out of his league, Mac knew when to call in a professional. He pulled out his cell and dialed a number he hadn't needed in a very, very long time.

His wife Claire had come from a relatively small family, but what they lacked in size, they made up for in character. One such character that had helped him a great deal through her death was Claire's Aunt Viv. Vivienne Caldwell had been married eight times and considered all eight relationships successful. As he knocked on the door of her brownstone, he hoped she could help him again with whatever was wrong between himself and Stella.

"Ah, Mac, it is so good to see you. Come in, come in." The older woman looked the same as he remembered. Her accent hinted of a European heritage though he knew for a fact she was born in the city, but on her it just added to the charm. Her hair was a light red hue pinned up with diamond-studded clips and the volumes of fabric of her silk caftan followed her like an entourage as she moved. As soon as she closed the door, she enveloped him in a big hug, fully aware he wasn't much on public displays of affection.

"Hello, Aunt Viv, thanks for seeing me."

"Of course, of course. Now, let me get you something to drink. What do you like? I have bourbon, wine, maybe some sherry?"

"Coffee?" he asked as he sat down on the brocade sofa that ran the length of the parlor next to where her favorite conversation chair was positioned.

Aunt Viv rolled her eyes but nodded to the housekeeper to get what he asked for. "Now, tell me what's wrong. When you called you sounded upset about something."

"I didn't say anything was wrong."

"Yes, but you don't come without a reason, so, don't beat around the bush, tell me already."

Mac smiled. Yes, he might be able to help her. This woman was so vivacious and embraced life around her, somewhat in contrast to Mac's own practice. "I have a friend—"

"Is this a lady friend?"

"Stella is a woman, yes."

"Ah, Stella! You've come to me about Stella, oh what a joyous day!"

"Aunt Viv, you don't know what I'm here to talk about."

"Of course, you're right. Continue."

"Stella is a woman I work with, she works for me actually."

"I know Stella."

"What?!"

"Sure, she helped you after Claire passed, right, this is the same Stella we are talking about?"

"Yes."

"She is a very sweet lady. We see each other from time to time."

"How do you know her?"

"I used to come check on you, back then, and a few times she was there when I came, letting you sleep. She is a very good friend I think. She would call me sometimes and let me know how you were doing."

"She is a good friend."

"And you are in love with her."

Mac looked at the woman, "I didn't say that."

"You didn't deny it either. Mac, you had a great love in Claire, and I loved you with her. You were good for each other. But Claire is gone and she's not coming back. Your heart has already accepted it, your brain has some catching up to do."

He rubbed his face, giving himself the time to process what she was saying, and responded, "Even if I did have feelings for her—"

"Don't beat around the bush, you are in love with her!"

He didn't correct her, but started again, "Even if I did love her, Aunt Viv, she's angry with me and I don't know why. She won't talk to me about it."

"Ah, yes, well you have come to the right person to figure this out. Now, why do you think she's angry with you?"

"We are best friends and within the last two weeks she won't talk to me about anything other than work."

"You spent a lot of time together away from work, yes?"

"Not every day, but yeah, at least once a week we normally do something together."

"And all of a sudden it stops?"

"Yeah, and I have no idea why."

"Does she have a boyfriend, you know someone she sees?" Aunt Viv leaned toward the front of her chair, eager to hear the response.

"No, she's, uh, had a rough time with the last few men she dated. She always jokes that she's had enough of men for a while."

"Give me examples of her being angry at you."

Mac told her about the last time they were together after the Mayor's event and the late night visit and flowers he tried.

"Ah, so she throws your flowers away."

"Well, no, she didn't throw them away exactly."

"She did, she put them out of her sight, same thing. What else?"

"That's it, I don't know anything else."

Aunt Viv sat quiet for a few seconds, and then gave a big smile, clasped her hands together and proclaimed, "Mac, this is such good news!"

"I missed something, why is this good news?"

"She's in love with you!"

"No she's not, she's angry with me. I've done something wrong and I need to figure out what it is." Mac stood up and paced the room.

"Mac, the only thing you have done is be yourself. You have to trust me on this. She's in love with you and for some reason, she's not happy about it."

"If what you say is true, why would she not be happy about it?"

"Any number of reasons, but before you get too defensive, you don't seem all that happy about it either."

"We work together, we can't be in a relationship, even if we wanted to."

"Pish, love is bigger than police department rules. Besides, isn't Joey in charge these days?"

"Joe Farelli is the Police Commissioner, yes. Don't tell me you know him?"

"I know lots of people," she smiled. "Don't worry Mac, you need to tell her you love her. Go talk to Joey, the work thing is probably no big deal."

Mac shook his head, "I don't know—"

"What?! What don't you know? I would not steer you wrong. You answer this question. Is she worth the risk?"

"Yes, she is."

"There you go! Now, you need to start planning how you're going to tell her. It doesn't have to be grand and extravagant, though that can be nice every once in a while, but I don't really think it's your style."

Aunt Viv pushed herself up from her chair, "Come on now, give me a hug. It's all going to be okay."

At the door, Mac turned back, "What if she doesn't love me back?"

She ran her hand down his check, as if he was a small boy, "What if she does?"

&&&&&

Stella rested her head in her hands, taking deep breaths as she sat in the floor of her apartment leaned up against her door. She couldn't take it anymore. She had to stop the pecks on the cheek. He was never going to kiss her back, he was never going to turn his face so her lips met his own. They were only friends. Best friends.

She had had an epiphany a few weeks ago that the reason she wasn't able to have a successful relationship with a man was because every man she met never measured up to Mac. No one was as handsome, or caring, or considerate.

The only solution she had come to was to adjust her and Mac's relationship to strictly professional. The downfall of her plan was that she hadn't told Mac and he kept trying to figure out what was wrong. What was she going to tell him? I want you to love me as much as I love you but since you don't I'm going to cut you out of my life completely, except as my boss? It sounded insane even just passing through her mind but what option did she have?

She couldn't help but feel special that he bothered to stop by but quickly shoved that thought out of her head. Stella, you are an independent woman. Your friendship with Mac is not normal or healthy, you need to let yourself be free so you can see the possibilities with other men, she thought to herself as she stood back up. She looked at herself in the mirror in her front hall and snorted. Even her reflection didn't believe the pep talk.

&&&

The early bird gets the worm, and in the life of a CSI, that meant the first call of the morning. Stella grabbed her kit out of the department SUV and headed toward Detective Don Flack.

"Good morning, Stella!"

"Hey Flack, what have we got?" Stella placed her kit down on the ground near the dead body.

Flack read through his notepad, "The victim is a known dealer and has priors for being involved with a prostitution ring. He was found about an hour ago by a delivery driver. I'm on my way to interview him next."

Before Don could walk away, they both saw Mac pull up.

"Damn!"

"What?" Don asked.

"Nothing."

"Doesn't sound like nothing. Is it about Mac?"

"He's just every where, at every crime scene, in the lab."

"Isn't he your partner? Isn't that how it's supposed to work?" he asked with his typical sarcasm.

"Never mind. Don't you have a statement to take?" she motioned over to the truck driver who kept checking his watch.

"Yeah, ok. Good morning, Mac." Flack walked away with a quick look back to Stella and then a look at Mac and then left them alone.

Mac nodded at Flack and set his own kit down next to Stella's. "Where do you want me?" Mac asked.

"I've already started on the victim, why don't you take the alley?"

"All right." He picked up his case and started working.

Her first instinct was to ask him if he was okay, but it was early and her resolve was strong so she turned back and kept working her part of the crime scene. She should be relieved the situation didn't turn confrontational or even uncomfortable. She should have known that when it came to work, Mac was all business.

After half an hour, Mac walked by, listed what he had found and offered a quick, "I'm headed back to the lab, see you later." She nodded and forced herself not to watch his walk back to the truck. It was killing her to lose her best friend, even though she was solely responsible for the loss. Her change didn't seem to be bothering Mac at all, but that realization was cold comfort.

Later at the lab, she began reviewing the evidence and as usual, lost track of time. She strolled into the break room to grab the brown bag lunch she had put in the refrigerator earlier that morning. She pulled up a stool to one of the small tables and dumped the contents of her sack. The sandwich, carrot sticks and banana came out but an envelope fell out of the sack too. Curious, she slid her nail under the flap and opened it. A small white card was enclosed and Stella read the typed message:

Letter 73

She looked back in the envelope and found something else, two Broadway tickets to a show that she had wanted to see but hadn't been able convince herself to enjoy the splurge. Stella grabbed the components of her lunch and decided to eat in front of her computer to decipher the clue. Within just a few minutes she was able to determine that the ASCII code for the Capital I was 73. I?

Better safe than sorry, she picked up the card and headed to Mac's office. Hopefully, it wouldn't be too awkward, but she couldn't ignore lab policy and Mac wanted to be kept in the loop if anything unusual happened.

He was there, eating his own sandwich, looking over some reports.

"Hey Mac, got a second?"

"Sure."

"Um, I'm not sure if this really warrants your attention, but I opened my lunch a few minutes ago and found this envelope in my bag. I guess somebody put it in there while we were at the scene."

"Did you open it?"

"Yeah, I probably should have taken it to the lab, but I wasn't thinking. It had a clue on it plus a gift."

"A gift? What was it?"

"Tickets to a show I wanted to see. So, it may be personal but with the situation with Frankie and Drew I can't help but be cautious, you know?"

"I don't blame you. What was the clue?"

"Letter 73."

"Did you research it already?"

"Yes, I believe it's the ASCII code for the letter I."

"Do you have any idea who could be sending you the tickets?"

"No, but really anybody could have given it to someone who had access to the lab. It could be nothing," she hoped.

"Why don't you go ahead and see if you can find any prints. Better safe than sorry, right?"

"Right," she agreed, "Thanks." Stella returned to her desk. Mac really was a good boss, she thought and then before she could think anything else, she made herself focus on the mystery envelope.

The rest of the day was pretty quiet. After finding nothing on the envelope or tickets, Stella spent most of the afternoon in the lab processing the evidence she had found earlier in the day but once done there, she decided to go downstairs and get a cup of coffee before she started in on the pile of paperwork that waited in her office.

"Hi Stella!" the old man with the constant green apron greeted.

"Hey Bernie, how are you today?"

"I'm good. Your usual?"

She nodded and stepped aside while he made her drink.

He handed her a cardboard wrapped cup and she extended a five dollar bill in exchange. Bernie shook his head. "It's on the house for the rest of the week."

"What!? Why?"

Bernie pulled something out of his apron pocket and handed it to her. "You have a friend, he asked me to give you this."

Stella took the small envelope from him. "I don't suppose you're going to tell me who it was, are you?"

"Now Stella, what would be the fun in that? Besides, aren't mysteries kind of your thing?"

Stella laughed and nodded. "Thanks, I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"I'll be here."

As she took her first sip, she was tempted to wait until she was back upstairs but before she stepped into the elevator, she had already opened the card. This message said:

Patriotic Chemical Symbol

She knew that one, Am was the chemical symbol for Americium. She checked for prints on the small note card and found two, one was hers of course and another she found on the outside, she assumed was Bernie's. She saved the data, just in case it proved useful later and returned to her office to start on the pile of paperwork.

No one liked paperwork, she knew Mac avoided it like the plague, but when it piled this high, the only thing to do was tackle it. She set her coffee to the side and started to grab for the first folder and found another small envelope. Man, this guy works fast, she thought. The message on this one was:

Loc. where the Cardinal sings in the Tulip Tree

A knock of her door interrupted her decoding of the clue. She looked up to see Mac.

"Did you get another one?"

"Actually, this is the third I've received now."

"The third? You weren't in my office thirty minutes ago with the first! Do you want me to come in and help?"

"Sure, I'd appreciate it." Okay, she thought, this was better. He asked if he could come in, as a co-worker would. Not too personal. But still friendly, this was good.

He sat down in the other chair in her office. "What was the second clue?"

"Patriotic Chemical Symbol."

"Americium," he quickly responded.

"Right. So we have I and am."

"I am."

Stella looked at Mac, "I am….here, I am…coming, I am…what?"

"Obviously we'll need more clues. What does the third clue say?"

She told him, and started postulating. "Loc is an abbreviation for location and a cardinal could be a state bird."

Mac added, "Maybe there's a state where the state bird is the cardinal and the state tree is a tulip tree. Though, I've never heard of a tulip tree."

Stella smiled, "me neither," but started typing. "Here we go. Indiana's state bird is the cardinal and the state tree is the Tulip Tree."

"And the abbreviation for Indiana is IN. So now you have I am in."

"I am in…town, I am in…pain, I am in...trouble?" Stella guessed.

"Did you find any prints on your other two envelopes?"

"No, nothing useful."

"Just keep me posted."

"I will, thanks Mac." She focused on her case files late into the night.

&&&

The next day started in a rush, Stella slept past her alarm. Mac called her on her cell,

"You working today?" he asked, the subtle tease obvious in his voice. What a dream to have that voice to wake to every day, she thought automatically, but quickly forced herself to push the thought away.

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes," she promised.

"Stella, you don't need to rush. Take an hour, it's not like you haven't worked double shifts every day for over a week."

"Ok, thanks. I'll be there by 9, I promise."

Stella was true to her word, and when she arrived at 9, the lab was in a tizzy though it wasn't immediately obvious as to why. She walked back toward her office and found the Police Commissioner heading toward her. "Bonasera! I need to talk to you!" he bellowed.

'Surely he doesn't keep close enough tabs on us to know I was late?' she thought. "Yes, sir, what can I do for you?"

"Here, take this." He handed her a white paper bag and another small envelope completely ignoring all the eyes that were on them. He leaned down to whisper, "When you figure this little puzzle out," he said, pointing to the envelope, "it's okay with me. Got it?" and proceeded to walk back toward the elevator bay.

Stella gave a puzzled smile but dutifully answered, "Yes, sir" and peeked inside the bag. Croissants and still warm. Her growling stomach called out as if to remind her to eat. "Thank you," she called.

He called back over his shoulder, "Don't thank me, I'm just the messenger."

"What did you do?" Danny Messer asked as the rest of the team walked up and watched the Commissioner walk out of sight.

"Nothing, he just had something to give me." She shared a look with Mac who motioned toward his office. She subtly nodded and when Mac called for everyone to get back to work, she followed him.

"What does this one say?"

Stella flipped open the envelope flap and handed it to Mac allowing herself the opportunity to grab one of the croissants.

Mac read aloud, "Fruitless score for Mervyn Rose and Luis Ayala." He looked up and stared at her obviously enjoying the first bite of the Commissioner's gift. "Uh, do you mind if I," he pointed to his computer, indicating he wanted to look up the names. "Stella?"

"Huh, oh, sorry, these are really good. No, go ahead." She took another bite.

"Both of these men are tennis players," he said after a few minutes. "And a fruitless score in tennis would be…"

"Love," Stella whispered. She met his eyes, and then hurriedly fled the room.

'Stupid, stupid, stupid.' Stella chanted as she returned to her office. She grabbed her keys and her purse and left, asking Danny to tell Mac that she had something urgent come up and would talk to him later.

&&&

"What do you mean she left?"

"Don't shoot the messenger, Mac. I don't know, she just came and told me something urgent had come up and she needed to go. She looked kind of upset."

"Sorry. Okay, thanks for letting me know. I'll call her in a little while to make sure she's okay. Thanks Danny."

"Sure, no problem. I'm sure she's fine boss, don't worry."

&&&

All of her hard work was for nothing, Stella realized as she flung her purse and keys on the hall tree in her apartment. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't just push Mac out of her life or out of her heart. When that last clue was revealed as love, all she could think was she wished it was from him.

She headed toward her bedroom and froze when she saw a box on her bed. She stepped backwards as quietly as she could and took her service revolver and assumed the position to clear a scene. "NY PD, show yourself." Since her new apartment was more of a loft, it didn't take long to check it over. When she found no one, she checked the windows and balcony door and found no evidence that they had been unlocked. She picked up her cell and called Mac. "Someone has been in my apartment."

"Did you call for backup?"

"No, I checked everything out, there's no one here."

"How did you know someone had been there?"

"There's another card on my bed and another gift."

"I'm coming over."

"No—" she said, but she was too late, the connection had been cut. She looked back toward the area where her bed was positioned and walked toward the gift. A square black box with a champagne colored ribbon sat near the foot of the bed. She picked up the card, which had disguised the imprint on the top of the box, which said La Perla in all capital letters. She pulled at the silk ribbon and ran the tips of her fingers across the letters then tugged on one of the corners of the box lid. If this box was from Mac, she would be very excited right now. She smiled; she couldn't picture Mac shopping for lingerie for any woman, especially not lingerie as expensive as she knew this brand to be. Before looking inside, she pulled the small card out of its envelope and moved to open it but stopped and decided to open the card first. The clue was Con. Maybe like pro and con, meaning against. Or, with like con carne.

I am in love with….

As she pulled the lingerie out of the box, she knew this was a distinct enough gift she could trace its owner. The black lacy silk bra and panty were gorgeous and she couldn't help but notice, in her size. Too bad she wouldn't even have the chance to try them on.

The loud knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. Mac! She put the silk undergarments back in the box and headed for the door.

She expected him to storm in but he stood there in the hall motionless.

"Mac?"

Mac took a deep breath, "Can I come in?"

"Of course. There's no danger here, nothing to process I don't think." She turned back. "You didn't bring your kit?"

He shook his head and reached in his shirt pocket and pulled out a very familiar small envelope and extended it toward her.

She thought it was the clue they had looked at right before she had left, but the envelope was still sealed. She looked up at Mac warily, opened the envelope and pulled out the card. The clue was a new one.

"It's yew."

"What?"

"The answer to the clue is yew."

"How did you know?" The evidence began processing automatically in her brain. "Are you the person sending the clues and the gifts?" She turned back to look at the box on her bed. "I don't understand."

"The clues say it all."

"I am in love with you," Stella recapped. "You are in love with me?" she whispered.

Mac nodded, closely monitoring her reaction, unable to determine if she was happy or upset at the news.

"You put the note in my lunch bag with the Broadway tickets?'

He nodded. "I hoped I could take you."

"You gave the clue to Bernie to give to me?"

"I know how much you need your coffee fix."

"The police commissioner?" She had forgotten all about that.

"I wanted to make sure that there weren't any outside influences that could sway you."

"He told you it was okay for us to see each other?!"

Mac finally smiled. "No, he actually said 'if you hurt her I have an entire force of men at my disposal to hunt you down'."

Stella smiled, then moved on to the next clue. "When I was in your office earlier you knew. All these clues I was bringing to you and you acted like you had never seen them before!"

"You wouldn't talk to me! I was thrilled you even wanted my help," he defended.

"I wouldn't talk to you because I had to get a way from you!" her voice got louder the more she said. "How am I supposed to find someone to spend the rest of my life with when none of them measures up to you?"

He smiled; she continued to rant, not realizing what she had just admitted. "And, you came into my apartment without permission."

"You gave me a key, remember?"

"For emergencies, not to sneak in when I'm not here!"

"If you want me to return the," he motioned to the box of lingerie on the bed, "stuff, I can."

"How do you even know about La Perla anyway? You're not that kind of man, Mac."

"All evidence to the contrary," he offered quietly.

"I cannot believe this! I try for weeks and weeks to push you away and there you are sneaking behind my back, playing with my mind."

Mac stepped toward her, enjoying the beautiful sound of her rant. Her passion was one of the things he loved most. She continued with her tirade but when she paused to take a breath, Mac took advantage, placed his hands on the side of her face and neck and pulled her close. His lips found hers effectively stopping any coherent thought. He nibbled on her lips while she returned the kiss and wrapped her arms around his neck. He moved his lips down her jaw line to her neck and caressed the particularly sensitive area with his lips and tongue. "I just wanted someone to love," she whimpered.

"You can love me." Mac murmured against her neck.

"But you don't love me."

Mac dropped his forehead to her shoulder.

"Stella, look at me," Mac whispered. She looked down, but a finger under her chin brought her eyes to meet his. I, Mac Taylor, am in love with you, Stella Bonasera. Do you understand these words as I have explained them to you?"

Stella shook her head.

"Why not?"

"It just doesn't make sense. Are you sure?"

"Yes, I promise, for the rest of my life."

That caught her attention. "Mac?"

"I'm serious Stella. I'm in this for the long haul but what about you?"

"I was trying to avoid you because I love you."

"Maybe instead we can just be in love together. Wouldn't that be easier?"

"You know life with me won't be easy." She wrapped her arms around his neck again.

"I am fully aware of that, I know what I'm in for." He reached down to grab her legs and swung her up in his arms.

Mac's cell phone rang and Stella reached down and pulled it out of its holster. "It's Danny," she said and held it up to his ear, trying to not giggle.

"Hey Danny, what's up?"

"I found her, she's fine." Stella tried to hear what Danny asked, but couldn't. Feeling mischievous, she nipped at his earlobe on the opposite ear.

"No, I don't think she'll be in tomorrow." Encouraged by his words, she continued to try to distract him. "No, I don't think I will be either. You can hold down the fort, right?"

Danny obviously said something else and Mac tried to respond, "Great, uh, uh—"

Stella took the phone she had been holding up to his ear and brought it to her own. "Danny? Hi, yes, it's me. Mac can't talk anymore, he's not paying enough attention to me trying to seduce him so he'll have to hang up. We'll see you in two days. Bye Bye."

Three months later…

Vivienne Caldwell thumbed through the afternoon mail that had been placed on the tray next to her sherry. She didn't recognize the handwriting, but the card's sender appeared to be feminine.

She opened up the card and smiled. Mac and Stella were getting married and Stella had written a note in the margin:

Viv- Since you were instrumental in making our relationship a reality, I would love it if you would do me the honor of walking me down the aisle. Plus, if Mac gets cold feet, you'll be right there to kick him in the butt. Give me a call in a few days if you're interested, but don't call too late, we go to bed early. -Stella

The End.