For the second time in as many days, Stella found herself awakening to the rays of the morning sun instead of the sound of her alarm clock. This morning, instead of an afghan to lull her back to sleep she had a surprisingly comfortable bed tempting her to sleep in. After finally agreeing to stay the night Stella and Mac had stayed up until well after midnight. Mac, still determined to help her find a place, had pulled out his laptop. After determining there was nothing promising in the immediate area, Stella had jokingly suggested she should just chuck it all and move to Alaska. Juneau had a higher per capita crime rate then New York, so it might be a good career choice. Ever the helpful friend, Mac had started punching up real estate listings in Alaska, and from there it had just gotten downright silly. The bottle of wine they shared between them hadn’t helped matters any and they were consumed by laughter as they attempted to find the most bizarre listings. After deciding that she probably had missed her calling as a sheep herder and could buy a ranch in the boondocks, they had called it a night. She smiled to herself as she pulled the fluffy comforter up around her shoulders and rolled over so her back was to the window. It would be easy to doze back off for a minute or two and she closed her eyes. The smell of coffee soon tickled her nostrils, drawing her back to consciousness. For a few moments the warm embrace of the bed and the lure of coffee warred for her attention. Finally she pushed back the blankets and swung her feet to the floor. With a yawn worthy of a hippopotamus she stretched her arms and then ran her fingers through her tangled curls trying to tame them into some semblance of order. Giving in to wakefulness Stella stood and rummaged through the pile of bags from her shopping trip yesterday until she located the robe that she had purchased. She shrugged into the knee length kimono style garment and belted it loosely at her waist. Smothering another yawn she opened the door and padded out into the hallway. The door to Mac’s room was open and appeared empty so she turned her steps towards the kitchen. A quick glance in the kitchen, living room, and dining room did not reveal his presence. Was it possible that he had gone out?

“Mac?” she called uncertainly.

“I’m out here,” Mac’s voice answered from the balcony. Stella had missed the fact that the French doors were cracked open.

Stella chuckled to herself as she remembered Mac’s confession yesterday that he rarely went out on his balcony. With a shake of her head she pushed open the door to step outside. “I thought you never came out. . .” Her words trailed off as she caught sight of what was awaiting her. While she was busy lazing in bed, Mac had been industrious. She recognized the two chairs that had been brought out here as chairs from the dining room. They were placed on either side of a small square table which was draped with what looked like an antique square of lace lying diagonally across it. She wasn’t quite sure where the table came from as she thought she would have noticed if one was missing from the house. On top was spread out a simple breakfast of fresh fruit and croissants. Sitting square in the center of the table was her impromptu vase of daisies. Mac was reading something on his laptop, but he closed the lid and put it to the side when he saw her.

“Good morning,” he smiled at her and handed her a cup of coffee. “It should still be warm.” Mac’s hair was mussed from sleeping, and his face was still scruffy.

“Morning,” she replied taking the cup of coffee and sipping slowly at it. “When did you find time to do this?” Stella asked in wonderment. Mac’s eyes followed her as she slipped into the chair opposite him.

“It didn’t take long,” he shrugged. “I wake up early. You were sound asleep, so I figured I’d get breakfast together.”

Stella fingered the lace gracing the table. “You don’t have a vase but you have an antique lace table cloth?”

“It was my grandmother’s. It came over from Ireland with them. When Claire and I got married she gave it me, told me to keep it in the Taylor family.”

“Now I’m afraid I’ll spill something.”

“Don’t be. I wouldn’t have pulled it out if I was worried about it.”

“Why did you pull it out then?”

Mac picked up the edge of the table cloth, “I had to put a couple of TV trays together to make the table.” Stella peeked under the table cloth and saw how he had propped them together. “I needed something to make it look like a table instead of just a couple of trays.”

“It worked,” she smiled over the rim of her coffee cup. “You had me fooled.” She chewed thoughtfully on a croissant. “Why go through all the trouble?”

“Yesterday you pointed out my lack of patio furniture. I thought I’d try it out and see if I liked it out here before I invested the money.”

“And your verdict?”

“The jury’s still out, but early indicators are favorable.” Stella looked around at the patio.

“You’d be able to fit a nice bistro table out here and still have room for one of those chaise lounges and an end table.” She glanced meaningfully at the laptop balanced at the edge of the table. “This way you could be comfortable when you’re working on you day off.”

Mac leaned back in his chair and stared contemplatively at his coffee, “Who says I was working?”

“If I open that laptop,” Stella tossed her hair, and stretched out a hand, “am I going to see something other than your email or case documents?” Mac had the good grace to look sheepish.

“Danny called and asked me to look over a few things. The DA wants the case for the Cabbie Killer pulled together as quickly as possible.”

“You never take a day off, do you?” Unless you’re strong-armed into running off to London.

“I did yesterday,” Mac countered.

“You still went in for the press conference.”

“I had to.”

Stella sighed, “I know. I just worry about you.”

“I’m not the only one who’s a workaholic.”

Stella shot him a dirty look, “Someone needs to make sure you remember to eat and sleep.”

“Let’s agree that we’re dedicated professionals.”

“Who could probably stand a vacation.”

“I had six weeks of vacation last I checked, and I’ve most likely accrued more.” Mac observed casually.

Stella blinked at him in confusion. “Wait, you’re actually thinking about taking a vacation? Twice in the same year?” she asked in surprise. “Wow.”

“Only if you join me,” Stella’s eyes widened in even bigger shock. Mac pretended not to notice and continued with his breakfast. “Someone has to make sure I remember to eat and sleep,” he teased.

“Okay,” she said slowly, putting down her fork. “Where would we go?”

Mac shrugged, “I haven’t gotten that far yet.” He paused for a moment, “Maybe Alaska,” he continued solemnly. “We could check out some real estate.” Stella made a face and tried not to laugh but failed. They were still laughing when Mac’s phone began to vibrate on the table.

“Taylor,” Mac said as he put the Blackberry to his ear, trying to sound professional. Subconsciously he had straightened in his seat entering ‘Head of the Lab’ mode. An image of him sitting behind his desk trying to look imposing in his t-shirt and sweats, hair rumpled and face unshaven filled her mind. The image was so ridiculous that she started giggling again. She picked up her napkin to try to stop herself from laughing. Mac bit his lip in an attempt to keep himself from joining in.

“Am I interrupting something, Mac?” Don Flack asked the man at the other end of the phone.

“No, just having breakfast,” Mac replied, his voice sounding strangled. The curious sound of muffled laughter came over the phone. Feminine laughter. Familiar feminine laughter. It sounded like Stella was still with Mac. Interesting.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Mac sounded like he was trying to keep himself from laughing.

“O-kay then,” he said. “The brass just contacted Reed about coming in for a statement. They want to move quickly on this one. I thought you should know.”

The laughter left his voice. “Who has lead on this?”

“I requested it,” Don lowered his voice and promised, “I’ll take care of him, Mac.”

“Thank you, Don,” he was silent for a long moment, “Julia found out about our relationship.”

“I know. That’s why I requested lead. She said, and I quote, you were ‘too close to the witness’.”

“What time?” Mac’s voice was all business. The clink of dishes indicated that breakfast was over.

“He’s coming in for one.”

“I’ll be there. Thanks again, Don. I owe you.”

Stella observed Mac’s face change from one of amusement to seriousness in a matter of moments. She’s not sure what Don was telling him, but she suspected it had to do with Reed. Taking a few final bites Stella finished up her breakfast. When Mac hung up the phone Stella gave him an inquiring stare.

“They’ve asked Reed to come down to make his statement.” He busied himself collecting the breakfast dishes. Stella joined him and they made quick work clearing the table. “I need to be there, even if I can’t be in the room.”

“I can be ready in 45 minutes.” Stella replied trailing Mac back into the apartment and towards the kitchen.

Mac turned to look at her, “You don’t have to do that, Stell.”

Stella smiled in return and placed her hand on Mac’s arm, “I know. I want to.” Mac placed the dishes he was carrying in the sink, and then took the ones Stella was carrying and did the same.

“Flip you for who gets the shower first?” he asked with an answering smile.

“Race you for it!” Stella countered and headed for the door. She made it half way down the hall before Mac grabbed her wrist and spun her around. With a thud she landed flat against his chest. Mac rocked back on his heels from the impact and then wrapped his free arm around her waist to steady them, effectively trapping her. “Hey!” she protested, squirming against him. “Not fair!”

“Fair?” Mac asked raising an eyebrow. Stella struggled against him, and he tightened his arms around her waist. Her head tilted up to glower at him. “Says the one who changed the rules.”

“Suggested an alternative,” she countered, tossing her curls back over her shoulders.

“More like dictated. I didn’t get the chance to respond.”

“You’re faster than me, and my hair takes forever to dry.”

Mac loosened his grip so that she was still circled in his arms, but could step away if she wanted to. Stella took a half step backwards so there was now a few inches of space between them.

“I can’t argue with that. Go ahead,” he paused. “But you’ll have to pay the penalty.”

Stella reached out and put her hand in the center of Mac’s chest. She moved closer to him and asked playfully, “And what would you have me do?” Her eyes were bright, her robe falling off her shoulders revealing the satiny tank top and shorts she termed pajamas, and he couldn’t help but think of several ways he could answer that question. With a conscious effort he took a slow, deep breath and pushed those thoughts to the side for the moment. He leaned close to her, the stubble on his face rubbing against her cheek as he whispered in her ear, “You have to do the dishes.”

Stella let out a cross between a snort and a giggle and gave him a firm push with the hand that was resting on his chest. Mac had not been expecting that reaction and stepped back from the force of the shove. “That’s it?” Stella laughed. She seemed . . .peeved. . .or disappointed, maybe? She turned on her heel and headed down the hallway with a swish of her hips. As she reached the door to his room she paused and turned in the doorway, “I would have chosen something,” she paused for emphasis before continuing, “more interesting.” Mac stared after her for a long moment. If he wasn’t mistaken, Stella Bonasera was flirting with him.

In his professional career, Mac had conducted countless interviews with witness, and observed hundreds more. He’d heard witnesses describing in detail their own personal hells: victims of rape, child abuse, incest, murder, assault. Ordinary people that had the extraordinary experience of witnessing a crime. There were those that yelled and those that wept, those that remained calm and those that seethed with anger, and those that lied and those that told the bald truth, no matter how painful. After all of those experiences it could be argued that Mac was prepared for anything. During his years on the force he’d heard it all, and nothing surprised him. But today, he was finding it hard to remain the calm, detached professional that he prided himself on.

Flack was conducting the interview along with one of the ADA’s and another detective. True to his promise, Flack was making the process as painless as possible. Sheets of paper literally littered the table as Reed was finding it easier to write out the answers to the detective’s questions then to speak. Angela and Kevin Garrett had accompanied their son to the station, determined to give him the support that they felt Reed needed. From his angle Mac couldn’t make out a whole lot of the words on the paper, but those that he did see made him shake with anger. His hands balled into fists at his side and he knew that it was a good thing that their suspect was locked up already.

“We got him, Mac,” Stella reassured him as she joined him at the window. She had left a little while earlier when Reed’s parents had been ushered out of the room. Their presence was making the process more difficult as Reed was concerned about hurting them with the naked truth of the situation. Stella had gone out to check on them in the waiting area. Mac didn’t say anything in return but his eyes said thank you. Stella slipped her hand between his arm and body so that her fingers rested on his forearm rubbing against the sleeve of his suit jacket in a comforting way. He stepped closer to her so that their hips were touching, taking comfort in her warm presence. Mac felt his fist unfurl and the shaking in his hands subsided. With his opposite hand Mac reached over and placed his hand on top of hers. Finally tearing his eyes away from the scene in the conference room, Mac looked over at Stella and the look that passed between them said more than words alone could. Gently, Mac shook Stella’s hand from his forearm and wrapped his arm around her waist instead, pulling her up against him.

“How are the Garretts?” Mac finally asked.

“As well as can be. I got them some coffee and settled them in the waiting area. Angela’s stopped crying. The want to help, but they’re not sure how.”

“Reed’s made of strong stuff, like his mother,” Mac replied. “From what I can see of his statement, he’s highly observant.” More observant than I’d like, he thought to himself

“That’s good for us then,” Stella countered. “Case should be ironclad.”

“It’s a good thing the suspect is already locked up. I’d kill him.”

“It’s hard to stay detached when it’s someone you care about,” Stella observed as she tucked her head against his shoulder. The two fell silent and continued watching the proceedings through the mirror. It appeared that the process was winding down.

“I would have killed Frankie.” Mac finally said, the tone of his voice deadly. Stella stiffened slightly against him. “When we came to your apartment and I saw you. . . I thought you were dead.” He took a deep breath before continuing, “Then I realized what had happened. I saw red,” Mac grimaced and half turned to face Stella, still keeping his arm around her. “Before that I’d always thought that was just a colorful literary term.”

“Mac,” Stella started, but she couldn’t finish the phrase. After a few moments she finally settled for a joke. “I think you’ll have to accept you’re stuck with me.”

“I can think of worse things, Stell,” a ghost of a smile appeared on his face. “Of course, that means you’re also stuck with me. And I think I got the better end of the deal.” He tugged her gently to him pulling her into a hug. She sighed softly and snuggled against him enjoying the security of being wrapped in his arms. Mac rested his cheek against the top of her head, the soft curls tickling his nose. He closed his eyes as he inhaled the scent of her and wondered at how right she felt in his arms. The sound of familiar footsteps approaching caught his attention. Stella straightened up, obviously hearing the same sound as he.

“Hey, Mac, I have someone here who wants to talk to you,” Flack called as he turned the corner. If he thought it unusual to find Mac’s arms wrapped around Stella he made no sign. Stella’s cheeks were tinged with pink and she looked uncertainly at Don. Mac, on the other hand, acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary, about the situation. And maybe it isn’t, Flack thought to himself filing the scene away in a mental file.

“Reed,” Mac replied glancing past the detective at another familiar face. Reed was standing right behind Flack, grinning at Mac and Stella. The two disentangled themselves, Stella busying herself with smoothing her hair. Reed caught Mac’s eye and exchanged an inquiring glance with him. Mac quirked an eyebrow in response, his glance expressing the thought, think what you like.Flack observed the byplay and determined that there was definitely something going on that he wasn’t aware of. Although he had warned Danny to mind his own business, Flack found himself succumbing to the same curiosity.