Moving On

"Hey, Delia, you think this lamp can go for thirty?" asked Melinda Gordon.

Delia Banks, Melinda's partner in the Same As It Never Was Antiques, the store that Melinda owned, came over to look at the patterned ceramic lamp that had come with the new shipment of antiques.

"I think it could probably sell for forty", said Delia.

"You think?" Melinda scrutinized the lamp.

"Yeah." Delia smiled. "I'd pay forty bucks for something like that."

"Forty it is", said Melinda, writing the price on the tag. She looked up. "Hmm...it's getting kind of late. We should close up."

"Okay", Delia agreed. "I have to pick Ned up from tuition, anyway. I'll go lock up the back."

As Delia descended the stairs to the basement, Melinda suddenly felt another presence - a ghost. She looked all around but couldn't see it. Then, just as quickly, it disappeared. Delia, of course, hadn't noticed anything, and came back with the keys to the cellar steps.

"Hey, you okay?" she asked, noticing Melinda's puzzled expression.

"Yeah", Melinda replied. "I just got another visitation, that's all."

"Oh." Delia nodded understandingly. "Another of those ghosts?" At Melinda's affirming nod, she added, "Is this one good or bad?"

"I don't know", Melinda admitted. "I didn't see it, but there wasn't anything particularly malevolent in its aura. Maybe it'll show up later."

Later that night, Melinda enjoyed a home-cooked dinner with her husband, Jim Clancy. Jim was halfway telling her about an event at the station that day when Melinda felt the ghost again. Jim stopped his reminiscence when he saw her staring at a spot directly in front of the fireplace.

"Another ghost?" he inquired. She nodded but didn't speak. Instead she directed her question at the ghost Jim couldn't see.

"Who are you?"

The ghost gazed straight at her. It was a woman, who looked to be in her early to mid thirties. She had frizzy, curly brown hair and grey-green eyes that sparkled with strength and fire. If Melinda didn't know better, she'd think this woman was still alive.

"I'm Detective Stella Bonasera, and I need your help."

"What do you need help with?" asked Melinda. The fact that the ghost used to be a detective didn't faze her. She'd met many ghosts with many different occupations, some rare, some not so rare, and she was no longer surprised at whoever the ghosts had been.

"Saying goodbye", Stella answered simply, feelingly. "I was killed too quickly for anything to be said, and I know my team was hit hard by my death."

Even if Stella's former occupation hadn't startled her, this did. Most ghosts usually didn't freely give away information about how or when they died, or they couldn't remember, causing Melinda to have to look it up. Curious, she asked, "If you don't mind telling me, how did you die?"

"Does it have anything to do with saying goodbye to my team?" inquired Stella.

"It would prevent me from unintentionally saying anything that would hurt them more."

Stella considered it, then sighed and began her tale. "There was a shooting in the diner I was in. I tried to get everyone out, but I got shot in the process. I was watching when my teammates found out about it. They need to say goodbye. And so do I", Stella added quietly.

Melinda felt tears welling up in her eyes. This particular ghost was obviously the spirit of a person who had been very important to the ones around her, and the fact that she had been taken from them so suddenly must have been extremely difficult to bear.

Jim, hearing only one side of the conversation, was confused and concerned. "Hey, you okay?" he asked.

Melinda nodded. "Yeah. I'm fine. It's just...This ghost was a detective, and she was killed in a shooting. Her team never got a chance to say goodbye, and she wants them to be able to."

"Did you say she was a detective?" inquired Jim.

"Yeah, her name's Stella Bonasera", said Melinda. "Do you know something?"

"She was that officer who was killed a few days ago", replied Jim. "It was on the news."

"Was it?" said Melinda. "I don't remember seeing that on the news."

"You wouldn't", Jim told her. "You weren't around; that was the day you and Delia had that big sale at the antique store."

"Well, I wouldn't be surprised to hear that the reporters were swarming all over the news", said Stella. "The death of a detective in a shooting often makes headline news, and with the department I worked in, it was bound to be on the front page."

"What department did you work in?" asked Melinda.

"I was a homicide detective and a CSI, as well as co-head of the NYPD Crime Lab", answered Stella.

"Wait, did you say New York?" said Melinda. "That's a four-hour drive from here."

"I know." Stella looked at her earnestly. "I wouldn't be asking for your help if I didn't need it. But we really do need to say goodbye. It's the only way we can move on. Especially Mac..." She trailed off.

Melinda studied the ghost in front of her. This was a novelty - a ghost who couldn't move on until she was sure her friends could. And since she tried to help ghosts move on, there was only one thing to do.

"I'll leave tomorrow morning", she promised.

"I'm coming with you", Jim said. He'd managed to gather that his wife intended to leave for New York in order to help the ghost of Detective Stella Bonasera, and he wasn't letting her go alone, even if she would be accompanied by a ghost detective.

Detective Mac Taylor, CSI and former Marine, head of the NYPD Crime Lab, sat in his office, doing some paperwork. When he'd finished the last of it he leaned back in his chair somewhat wearily, happening to glance at the small photo frame he had taken to keeping on his desk. Instantly, his eyes locked on the subject of the photograph.

Stella Bonasera, his partner and best friend. It had been four days since she'd died, but it had felt like four years. The lab just wasn't the same without her, and it was evident in the actions of those who had known her best. Flack wasn't making anymore wisecracks, Danny was missing his usual gusto, Lindsay had ceased her enthusiastic explanations and even leaked a few tears occasionally, Hawkes wasn't smiling as much, Adam was no longer chattering too much, and Sid was lacking his usual interesting spark. And Mac...Mac had withdrawn further into himself, even though he'd promised Stella the day after her death that he wouldn't. He didn't laugh, or even smile anymore, and he was dead intent on catching the shooter who had killed Stella. For him and the rest of the team, that was the one and only case that mattered at the moment.

There was a knock on his door as one of the secretaries came in. "Detective Taylor? There's a man and a woman outside who want to see you."

Mac sighed as he passed his hand over his eyes. Great. More visitors who would add their condolences for Stella's death to the already substantial pile. Didn't they understand that their sadly offered wishes and sympathy made him and the rest of the team hurt even more? Still, he replied, "Send them in."

Melinda was nervous. She hadn't thought she would be, after all the many families she'd had to explain her gift to, but this was something else. She was in the New York Crime Lab, in a room full of detectives and police officers, and the ghost she was doing this for was nowhere to be found.

Melinda sighed. The things she did for ghosts. At least she still had Jim. She smiled at her husband just as Stella appeared.

"Hey, you know, I want to thank you for doing this", said the ghost detective. "Not many people would travel to a different city to help somebody who's dead."

"You're welcome", Melinda said warmly. "I'm one of the few who would, it's true."

Stella smiled, and looked around the lab with a wistful expression on her face. "I wish I could have come back for any other purpose except to say goodbye", she said sadly. "This is my home. I can't imagine being anywhere else."

"Your home?" Melinda looked puzzled. "I don't mean to be rude, but this? Home?"

Stella actually laughed. "To you, it might be scary, but I loved my job. And I loved this lab. Still do."

Melinda understood. Suddenly feeling connected to this ghost, she asked, "What about your family? Do they live in New York too?"

"No, I was an orphan", replied Stella. "I got bounced around between foster homes until I was finally placed in an orphanage. My team is my family."

"Oh." Melinda honestly didn't know what else to say. She'd never met anyone quite like Stella before, dead or alive. "Tell me about your teammates."

Stella smiled again, a fond note creeping into her voice as she spoke. "Well, first, there's Mac. He's the head of the Crime Lab and my best friend. He used to be a Marine. He lost his wife Claire in 9/11, and after that I was the only family he had left. That's why this is so hard on him."

Melinda started to sniff.

"Then there's Don Flack", continued Stella. "He comes from a whole family of cops. He's quite tough, but underneath, he's caring and a great friend. There's also Danny Messer. He's from Staten Island. He can be a little rough around the edges, but his heart's in the right place. Lindsay Monroe is a bubbly, witty Montana native with an eye for detail. Hawkes was a great ME who's now an even better field officer. Adam Ross's a wonderful technician and a likeable goof who does his work well. And Sid Hammerback's the head medical examiner. He's shrewd and observant with a heart as big as New York. I'm going to miss them", she added softly. She looked up as she heard footsteps. Jim and Melinda turned too as they saw the secretary headed their way.

"Detective Taylor will see you in his office", the secretary said. Then she walked away.

Melinda turned to Stella. "Can you show us the way?"

"I'd be glad to."

Mac looked up as the young couple knocked on the glass door. Who were they? Puzzled, he nodded to them, signaling them to come in.

"Um, Detective Taylor", began the woman nervously, "I'm Melinda Gordon, and this is my husband, Jim Clancy. We, uh, we're here under some...unbelievable circumstances."

Mac raised an eyebrow. "'Unbelievable circumstances'? How so?"

Melinda hesitated, cocking her head as if listening to someone who wasn't there. "It's difficult to explain, sir", she said. "I know this is going to sound strange, but could you gather Don Flack, Danny Messer, Lindsay Monroe, Sheldon Hawkes, Adam Ross, and Sid Hammerback, please?"

Surprised, Mac asked, "How do you know them?"

"Please, sir, trust me", said Melinda. "I'll explain everything when everyone is present."

Not without reservations, Mac called his team and asked them to come to his office. They did so, filing in one by one approximately ten minutes later. Once the introductions were over, Melinda began to explain.

"First of all, I am so sorry", she said. "I heard that one of your team, Detective Stella Bonasera, was killed in a shooting last week."

The New Yorkers stiffened, but otherwise did not show any signs of surprise. They had probably heard many condolences since Stella had died.

"Right, I know this is gonna sound really crazy", began Melinda, after taking a deep breath, "but, I can see ghosts. And – and Stella's here, right now, in this room."

Stunned, shocked silence encompassed Mac's office. The expressions of disbelief and astonishment on the New Yorkers' faces were similar.

"Hey, are you jerking us around?" demanded Danny, his voice gruff. "You making fun of us? Of Stella?"

"Look, I know this is so totally unbelievable, but it's all true", said Melinda. "Stella's here, right now, she's – she's wearing a light blue top with three-quarter sleeves, and black pants, and black shoes."

Hawkes looked at her carefully. "That's what Stella was wearing the day she died. How'd you know that?"

"I can see her", said Melinda.

"Look, I'm not sure who you are", said Flack, "but I'm pretty sure you got better places to be. Now please, go home and leave us alone."

"No, please, you have to believe me", pleaded Melinda. "Stella needs to say goodbye. It's the only way she can move on and be at peace."

"Tell them Mac still keeps his wedding ring in his desk drawer", Stella said to Melinda. Melinda repeated the information.

Again, silence fell. The situation was getting more and more unbelievable to the New Yorkers, and more and more tense for Melinda.

With difficulty, Lindsay inquired, "Mac?"

Mac silently opened his drawer and withdrew his gold wedding band. He'd almost forgotten it was stored away in there. The rest of the team stared at Melinda in amazement.

Melinda shrugged helplessly and gestured to a space next to Mac. "Stella told me."

Stella herself was standing right beside Mac, her eyes suspiciously bright as she reached out a hand to touch his face. As the back of her palm connected, Mac raised a hand to his cheek in surprise, suddenly feeling love and warmth surround him like an aura emanating from that one spot. Involuntarily, his eyes filled, startling the rest of his team.

"Mac?" questioned Lindsay tentatively, her tremulous voice threatening to overflow with suppressed emotion.

Mac, oblivious, whispered softly, "Stella."

Hawkes shot a look at Melinda.

"She's here", Melinda said, nodding.

"Stella?" Adam said, hardly daring to believe it. And then Stella was next to him, patting his shoulder like a mother would her child. He closed his eyes as he felt that invisible hand.

"Dear Adam", she whispered. "You were always such an enthusiastic, hardworking person. I'm so glad I got to work with you."

"She's glad she had the chance to work with you", Melinda told Adam. "She said you were always enthusiastic and hardworking."

"Tell him to continue the way he always did", Stella requested. "Tell him to continue goofing around, and lightening the mood like he used to. The lab needs it to de-stress."

This brought a slight chuckle from Melinda. "She wants you to continue joking and goofing around like you used to. She says the lab needs it."

Adam sniffed. "I don't know how I'm gonna do that without you, Stel, but I'll try", he promised.

Stella smiled and floated over to Sid, touching the ME's arm. Sid placed his other hand on the spot and felt the warm, familiar sensation of Stella's fingers, and his eyes misted with rare tears.

"Sid, you were always something like a father and older brother combined to me", Stella said. "You were always there for advice when I needed it, and your heart's so big, you even found a special place for me."

"It was my pleasure, Stella", Sid replied, when Melinda had relayed the message. "You were like a daughter to me too."

"Hawkes..." Stella made her way to the African-American. "You were a wonderful ME, and a better field agent. You're unique – one of a kind. No one else in the field has your medical expertise, and you brought something very valuable to the team."

Melinda repeated Stella's words and Hawkes sighed in bittersweet feeling. "Thanks, Stella. But you brought more. You were our spirit, the glue that held us all together."

Stella inclined her head in acknowledgement and Melinda said, "She's glad she was able to do that."

"Tell Don he's a great friend, and a wonderful person", said Stella, suddenly appearing at Flack's elbow. "He was supportive, and I know he always had his shoulder ready for me if I ever needed it."

"She says you were a great friend – supportive, and she knows you always had her shoulder for her if she needed it", Melinda repeated.

"No problem, Stel", Flack said gruffly, his hidden emotions threatening to break through his not-so-calm exterior.

"Danny..." Stella drifted toward where the Staten Island native stood with Lindsay. "You were like a younger brother to me, and Lindsay, you were like the sister I never had. I wish I had more time to be with you, but believe me, you are going to have a wonderful future together."

"She wishes she had more time with you, because you were like siblings to her", Melinda conveyed. "She knows you're going to have a wonderful future with each other."

"It won't be the same without you in it, Stella", said Lindsay through her tears.

"Lindsay's right." Danny wiped the moisture from his eyes. "It'll be different. We never imagined you'd be taken from us so quickly."

"I know", Stella said softly. "But as long as you have and love each other, you'll be all right." She moved on to Mac, the last one of the group. "Mac..." she began. "There's so much I wish I could say to you..." She stopped again. "You made a promise to me, Mac", she reminded him.

Mac smiled a sad, rueful little smile when he heard her gentle reprimand from Melinda. "I know. I'm not doing a very good job at keeping it, but..." He inhaled deeply. "You were my family, Stella. You were my best friend. I don't know what I – what any of us – will do without you. I don't know if we can move on."

"Yes, you can. You'll find a way." Stella paused before adding, "I know I never really said this to you, but...I love you Mac. You were always there for me, and I was there for you. We complemented each other." She smiled fondly. "We've had some good times."

Mac nodded in understanding after Melinda had played messenger again. Everyone in the room also understood that the love between Mac and Stella was not a romantic love – it was the love of a friendship so deep and close that the rest of them couldn't begin to comprehend their relationship.

"I love you too, Stella", Mac responded, his voice thick. "In some ways more than I loved Claire." He glanced at the photo on his desk. "We have had some good experiences together."

Stella hugged Mac as much as her insubstantial form allowed her to, and Mac returned the hug awkwardly, no longer bothering to stop the tears. He thought he could almost feel her warm body beneath his hands.

"I'll keep my promise, Stella", he vowed. "You deserve that. I'll do it for you."

Stella's face was now tear-streaked as well. "Thank you, Mac. I know you will." She straightened at glanced to her right. "Wow. I always thought that was some corny representation of the afterlife. It really exists, after all."

Melinda smiled. "It does. And this time it's for you. You can move on now, and so can everyone else." She snuggled into Jim, who had his arm around her. "You've done what we came here to do. You're free now."

Stella nodded. "Thanks for your help." She stepped toward the light only she could see, but just at the edge, she turned around and looked back, taking in the faces of her friends. "Goodbye", she said softly. And then she stepped forward and vanished.

"Another ghost sent to the light perfectly happy?" inquired Jim, handing Melinda a boxed fruit juice from the vending machine.

"Well..." Melinda took a sip from the straw. "I wouldn't say perfectly." She sighed. "She really was sad about having to leave this place." She gestured at the surrounding crime lab, where Mac had requested them to wait because he wanted to talk to them. "And her friends."

Jim was silent for a while. He did not accompany Melinda when she went to tell people about their loved one being a ghost, and thus had no idea what it was like for either party. But after witnessing the tearful, bittersweet reunion and goodbye between Stella and her teammates, he had a new respect for his wife and what she did.

Jim and Melinda rose as Mac approached them and beckoned them to follow him into his office. Once they were seated at opposite ends of Mac's desk, the head of the New York Crime Lab cleared his throat and attempted to speak, but it was several minutes before he was composed enough to speak.

"Melinda, I wanted to thank you on behalf of my team for helping us say goodbye to Stella. You know she...she was killed so quickly, and none of us was there..." He stopped. "We needed that. We all needed that, and Stella knew it. She always seemed to know when we needed her. It's going to be a difficult time for all of us, but..." He paused again. "I think we can move on now. Thanks to you."

Melinda brushed the thanks aside. "No. Thanks to Stella. I wouldn't have known about any of this if it weren't for her. She knew what you needed, and she saw that you got it. I was just the help."

Mac smiled. "Well, anyway, thank you. I'm glad we got to meet you. And even though we lost her, I'm glad I knew Stella as well."

Melinda thought of Stella, of her fiery spirit and strong character, of her determination and will, and she smiled too.

"So am I."

A/N: I'm so sorry this was late, but I've been busy the past few days. Besides, I did remember to post it before the end of the week. Hopefully this takes some of the sting and sorrow off the events of Just Another Day. I wasn't actually planning on writing it, but a reader suggested it, and my muse decided to comply. So I hope you enjoyed the story!

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI:NY or Ghost Whisperer.