Staying Neutral

"You okay?" The gentleness of Stella's voice breaks him from his musings. He blinks a few times and shakes his head, not to answer her question but to wake his mind once more and to return to the present. "Mac?"

He blinks again. "Yeah," he says. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"You seem a bit out of it," she replies, not without reason.

"I'm just thinking." He brushes a hand through his hair. The quiet hum of the computer he's been using and the ticking of his watch filters into his mind. "This case," he explains, "is unique."

Stella's lip curls into a humourless smile.

He looks at her properly and takes in the angles of her face, her nose, her shimmering lips. The overhead lights throw colour in her golden curls. Her black singlet top is simple and yet alluring. "I mean," he says before his thoughts drift any further away, into dangerous territory. "It's hard for me to look at this one without my personal feelings getting in the way. I can't stay neutral."

"I feel the same." Stella nods in understanding. "But that doesn't change anything. This is just another case. We need to treat it with the same professionalism as every other case. Even more so."

"I agree."

She takes a step closer to him. For a moment he's sure she is going to reach out to him, to play with his tie or straighten his collar or – and he knows it's a long shot – kiss him. "Are you going to be okay with it?"

Swallowing, he nods. "Of course. You know me. I'm quite capable."

"I do. And yes, you are. I didn't mean I think you can't do it." She cringes. "You're the best, the most professional of all of us. If you need to take a step back, though, I'm here. That's all I'm sayin'."

Each second that passes them by is heavy on his spirit. He breathes in deeply and then exhales and repeats it. Finally he nods. "Thank you, Stella. But I'll be fine."

"Good," she quickly. Her hand is suddenly on his wrist, fingers leaving tendrils of warmth on his skin. "Because we're going for dinner now. You need a break and then you can get back into it. We can get into it."

"You'll help me with it?" he asks.

"After dinner," she confirms.

As he toys with this idea, she leads him to the door and collects his jacket for him. She releases her grip on him to help him put it on. "You'd better be buying," he says as a last attempt to protest.

A short laugh escapes her lips and her hair bounces around her shoulders. "Why, Mac. Such a gentleman."

He grins back and shrugs. Might as well go with it. "I do try my best," he agrees and then follows her.

FIN.