Reed goes home after the press conference, feeling like shit.
Mac isn't his father damn it. He's just this guy who was married to his mother. This guy who's a cop and manages to look so strong and righteous it makes Reed want to melt into his arms.
Not that way.
Or maybe exactly that way.
He opens the "Mac" file on his Mac, which he used to think was a pretty funny joke and looks at all the pictures he took when he was searching for Claire. Searching, not stalking. It's a veritable gallery of Mac Taylor. A gallery, not a shrine..
The man isn't conventionally handsome, but he's striking and Reed can't stop wondering what it would be like if Mac looked at him the way he does that woman, Stella, who'd he mistakenly thought was his mother. He remembers when Mac chased him down and tackled him because he thought Reed was trying to hurt Stella and how it hurt, but felt good to be under that much power.
Reed knows he's odd. He wants the affection that Mac has for his team and the strength he exerts over the suspects, but what he really wants is for Mac to just look at him with something besides disappointment.
He zooms in a picture he took in a jazz club, with a hidden camera, of Mac playing bass in a combo, bent over his instrument.
Fine, it's a fucked up metaphor, but he's always been a little off and he wants Mac to play him like that, even if he is almost, kind of a step-father, and when he remembers that he's half in love with his almost, kind of step-father, he realizes he's got a boner and there's nothing to do but unzip and take care of it and pretend it's Mac's hands instead of his own, because why the hell not admit it's what he wants anyway?
All he wants is for Mac to understand him.
Which would be a lot easier if he understood himself.