Author's Note: I officially don't know what to say. Writing CSI:NY is so much harder for me than writing Criminal Minds, because I don't watch it (CSI:NY) as much as I watch CM. But I gave it a try anyway, and hopefully it passes the decency test. Please read and review! And thanks! (:

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Mac Taylor was walking down the relatively empty hallway when he heard noises coming from one of the offices. Passing by the room, he stopped in the doorway.

"Stella?" he asked, surprised.

She looked up. "Hey, Mac."

He entered her office. "I thought I was the only one here," he admitted. "What are you doing?"

She leaned back in her chair. "Well, I thought that I might as well finish all the reports tonight. I mean, it's not like I have anywhere else to go."

"You should go home and get some rest. God knows you've deserved it," he said truthfully.

"I don't have a home, remember? My apartment is burned down, alone with practically everything I own," she said quietly.

He frowned. "Then where were you planning on spending the night?"

"Either a hotel or…" She glanced pointedly at her couch.

"Or, I have a spare room that you are more than welcome to stay in," he suggested.

"Thank you, Mac, but I couldn't possibly impose on you like that," she said. "I'll just find a hotel."

"Stella, I'm not going to let you spend your hard earned money on a couple nights at a hotel. Today's Friday. Tomorrow and the day after, you can go apartment searching."


"I insist."

Looking at the expression on her friend's face and seeing that he had already made up his mind, she relented. "Alright. You win. But I owe you."


Mac and Stella walked into her scorched and blackened apartment. Mac picked up an ash covered picture that had fallen to her kitchen floor. Wiping it with his sleeve, he smiled when he saw eight happy faces staring back at him, all holding hands; him, Stella, Danny, Lindsay, Adam, Flack, Hawkes, and Sid. Hearing a grunt come from a neighboring room, he called out her name. "Stell?"

"In here," she said from the bedroom. Walking in, he saw her in her closet fishing out anything that wasn't burned.

Against his own will, he let out a low whistle. "The fire got to everything…"

She nodded. "Yeah. But on the bright side, this means I get to do some serious shopping."

He chuckled. "Life's small pleasures, right?"

"Definitely." Throwing the bag of un-charred belongings over her shoulder, she said, "Okay, that's about it. Let's go."


Sighing, she said, "I really appreciate this, Mac," as they entered his home. "Thank you so much."

"Don't mention it," he said, turning all the lights on. "Make yourself at home." He paused. "Do you want anything to drink? Coffee, tea, water?"

She shook her head, her curly hair bouncing about in the process. "You've gone out of your way enough."

Around an hour and a half later, she was sitting in the guest bedroom talking animatedly to her fellow agent when she began to yawn.

He noticed. "Hey, I don't want to keep you up. You have a long weekend ahead of you."

Her head hit the pillow. "Well, that much is true," she agreed.

He stood up and walked to the door. "Get some rest, alright?"

She smiled. "Alright. Good night."

"Good night."

He was about to close the door when she said, "And, Mac?"

He turned around. "Yeah?"

"Thanks again."

He smiled back and turned off the light, saying, "Anytime."


Stella woke up in an unfamiliar room. Brushing her tangled curls away from her face, she sat up in bed and looked around. "Where am I?" she muttered, before it hit her; she was still in Mac's apartment. She immediately got up, and after washing her face, brushing her teeth, changing her clothes, and trying in vain to tame her wild hair, she grabbed her bags and headed to the door.

"Where are you going?"

She whirled around. "Oh, hey. I didn't even notice you sitting there." She paused. "It's eight in the morning on a Saturday. Why are you up so early?"

"Well, I could ask you the same question." He walked to her and handed her a cup of steaming hot coffee. "Leaving so soon?"

"Yeah, I figured that if I spend the whole day apartment snooping, I'm bound to find at least one place," she said. "Besides, I don't want to be a burden, and I promised that I'd be out of your hair as soon as possible," she added.

"First of all, spending your entire day looking for an apartment is going to be hectic, not to mention really tiring. Second, you haven't been a burden at all; that dinner you cooked last night was amazing," he complimented. "And third, you are not 'in my hair', so to speak. You're my friend, and you needed a place to stay, so I offered mine. I'd do it again, too," he admitted. "So, you can stay for as long as you need to. I want you to know that."

She set her bags down. "Really?"

He nodded. "Really."

"Thank you," she said for the hundredth time, giving him a small kiss on the cheek. "You're a lifesaver."

"Hey, what are friends for?" he retorted.

She answered with a smile. "Being awesome."

He smiled back. "I definitely agree."