I'm still working on 'His Past, Their Present' and 'Lucy Goosey,' but thanks for the feedback so far! My muse will not be denied, however, so here's a fluffy little one-shot for y'all! Enjoy!


"I'm fine, Mac!" Stella huffed, frustrated.

"Would you just let me do this?" he asked, not a tinge of anger or regret in his voice.

"I'm a big girl, Mac. I can take care of myself."

"I'm not doubting that, Stella," Mac sighed. "Consider it chivalry. It's not dead, you know."

The look she shot his way told him he would be dead if another comment like that came flying out of his mouth.

"All I'm saying is that it's different now." Was he blushing?

"But it shouldn't be! I'm the same Stella I always was."

"And I'm the same Mac. What's different is that you're my--my girlfriend." Yeah, he was blushing something crazy. "I've always cared about you, you being my partner and friend, but now that we're something more, you can be expecting me to walk you to your door every time."

Stella chuckled wryly and shook her head. "That's what I'm talking about!" she exclaimed, frustration climbing even higher. She sighed heavily and looked at him for a long moment. "Just…never mind," she said at last, unlocking the deadbolt and going to work on the other lock.

Mac's hand fell on hers, successfully ceasing her movements. "What? What is it?" he asked, doing his best to get her to look at him.

The key remained in the lock as her hand slowly slipped from his grasp. She studied her twisting hands, searching for the right combination of words.

Finally her eyes met his, a connection of green and blue. "Okay, I admit that it's nice having you walk me to the door, and I'll never complain about the way you chivalrously kiss me goodnight, but I'm a woman who's got needs, Mac. And sometimes I need more than a kiss goodnight at the door."


"Sometimes--sometimes I want you to come in and talk. Sometimes I want you to just hold me. And then there are other times I want nothing more than for you to take me against the door!"


Suddenly, everything started to make sense to Mac.

"Is that's what's been bothering you recently?" he asked softly, trailing his fingers down her arm and firmly grasping her hand.

Her eyes slid downward, a silent answer to his question.

"God, Stella, I'm sorry," he whispered, giving her hand a squeeze. "I just thought that with romance being new to us we should take it slowly. I don't want to mess this up."

"Me neither," Stella admitted softly.

"Besides," Mac continued, as his hands moved to her waist, "slow isn't defined as 'taking you against the door,' as you so eloquently put it."

Stella chuckled and began fiddling with the top button on his shirt. "No, I guess that would be kind of fast." Her fingers stilled as she waited for his response.

Her words didn't go unnoticed, and he swallowed quickly, the tips of her fingers barely brushing against his throat.

"Stella…" he groaned.

"Sorry," she said with a grin, their eyes meeting once again. "Promise me something?"

"What's that?" he asked, pulling her closer.

Her hands slid up over his shoulders and clasped together at the base of his neck. "That we're not going to take this too slowly," she smirked. "Because I'm a woman…"

"…who's got needs," Mac finished, his smile reaching all the way to his eyes. "I know. And I promise."

"Good," she beamed, planting a quick on his lips. "So, um, do you want to come in?"


"Talk, of course!" she smirked as she pushed open the door. "That door thing is a good three, four hours away."

Mac chuckled as he followed her inside and shut the door behind them.


Apparently hours translated into seconds.

So much for taking it slowly…


Thanks for reading! Those of you who know me know that I have a bit of a penchant for doors, walls, Saloon bars (thanks, lily moonlight), and the like. I can't lie--it's sort of a reoccurring theme, so don't be surprised if you see it again. I can't help it…or rather, the characters can't.