Disclaimer: none of the CSI:NY characters belongs to me. Not exactly a song-fic, but starting with the title, I did have Sarah McLachlan's 'Full of Grace' in mind when writing.
Mac wakes up. He doesn't really recall having slept, but his joints are slightly stiff like after some time of not moving. He feels a bit cold. His metabolism is down and his apartment hasn't started warming up for the day yet. He sorts through his thoughts. One keeps escaping him, something about the day before, or maybe just the memory of a dream. He shakes off the dimness that has settled around him, stretches his limbs and gets up. Monday morning. He finds the way to the bathroom by the city lights stealing in alongside the blinds, not that he wouldn't find it in complete darkness. Just like his way around the lab.
His cell rings. After a glance at the caller id he answers it with a smile, "Morning, Stella."
"Morning, Mac. I didn't wake you, did I?" her voice is as fresh and crisp as the dawn.
"Of course not. You didn't really think that I'd still be sleeping …"
"I was more like hoping you might be." she interrupts him with a chuckle.
"I did actually get a very good night's sleep, thank you." he assures her, and thinks he can see her smile at that.
"Hey, have you looked outside yet?" she continues.
"No, any particular reason why I should?"
"You'll love it." she promises.
He walks to the window and pulls up the blinds. An imitation mountain range has gathered on his windowsill. Snowflakes the size of geese feathers are falling past. He moves closer to the window and glances down at the street. Parked cars have turned into small white peaks; moving cars have turned the snow on the street into a silvery slush.
He thinks of footprints conserved in the snow, of Stella conserving a snowflake in superglue. He smiles.
She hears the smile in his voice as he says, "Oh yes, I do love it. Don't know about driving though, or being outside."
She picks up the touch of concern in his tone and says, "I took the subway, and I'm inside now. And as far as I could tell from walking that bit, it's not slippery."
"Does that mean I can take the car and pick you up on the way to the lab?" he grins.
She chuckles in reply, "That'd be nice. Where I am is not exactly on the way to the lab though."
"Don't worry about that. And Gerrard had better not even dream of saying anything about expenses." Mac concludes with a smirk.
Stella laughs and gives him the address where he can find her. He estimates a time for his arrival there, they say goodbye and end the call.
Mac sits down for a small breakfast, consisting of two buns with butter and a large cup of coffee. He lets the smooth taste of the carefully roasted beans roll over his tongue. He watches the mountains on his windowsill build up, looking like a speeded-up version of the developing of their far bigger brothers. Since Stella alerted him to it at least two inches have been added. Mac finishes his breakfast and gets up to complete his morning routine.
He leaves his apartment wrapped in a thick coat and lets his car join the early-morning traffic. Nothing like rush-hour, but the weather slows people down. Wipers fight against the heavy white that continues to pour down on them, less experienced drivers cautiously sneak around corners. Traffic lights have a mind of their own. Mac grins at the memory of something Stella had once said about them. 'Little green men who are so shy that they turn red whenever you attempt to approach them.' He looks at his watch. Stella might have to wait a bit longer for him to arrive.
As Mac comes closer to his destination the street before him becomes more crowded. He looks around; the few pedestrians that are around all seem to be going the same way. Cars going so slow they don't overtake them, the only advantage of moving in a car now is the staying dry and warm. Mac weighs the options, taking over five minutes for just one more side street to go? He decides to park the car and walk the last bit. He doubts Stella would mind. He can just see her sending snowflakes dancing from her curls, shaking her head in a vehement 'no'.
He walks around the corner. He stops, he blinks. The building he sees before him looks like a piece of the arctic. Onlookers attracted to it like moths by the light, staring at the blinding white landscape before them, a hum of voices in the moist air. Single words unintelligible, wrapped in snowflakes. Looking up and down the street the realization sinks in that this is the address Stella had given him.
Mac runs across the street, not caring for the icy sludge he sends flying, flashes his badge at the nearest officer.
Thank you for taking the time to read. Is it worth continuing? Please let me know what you think. All comments are appreciated and replied to if logged on.