Author: Merrianna

Story: From Tragedy, Love: 4 of ?

Series: A Crime Lab Romance

Spoiler: Anything that has happen before "All Access".

Note: In advance I would like to thank everyone for being patient. This chapter was one of the hardest I've ever written and I'm not sure why. There are only two more chapters after this.

When the next morning came, Mac woke from a dreamless sleep; it was the first time that had happened since Claire had died. He noticed the lack of heat right off as he reached across the bed, searching for Stella. Opening blue eyes, Mac confirmed that his lover had gotten out of bed.

As he got out of bed, thoughts of the night before both delighted and saddened him. Mac knew that things were going to get complicated, but he was going to let Stella dictate what would happen. He only hoped that he would be able to live with whatever she decided, for he'd unknowingly fallen in love with the spirited Greek. No matter how it went, he wanted her in his life, even if that meant being just friends.

He found clothes and dressed before going to look for Stella, praying that she hadn't just run out of the apartment. Reaching the hall, he could hear the dryer working; that didn't mean that she was still there, but it did give the ex-Marine hope.

As Mac turned the corner, he saw her sitting in the living room on the windowsill with a cup of coffee in one hand. She had found the clean clothes, an emerald green V-neck pull-over shirt and beige jogging pants, which he had put aside the night before.

Leaning against the wall, he stood watching as the morning sun played across her features and dark curly hair. In some ways, Stella resembled his late wife, but that was just in looks. Stella was vocal, loud and didn't let a person get a chance to say anything, whereas Claire was quiet, spoke in level tones and ranted in private, so as to not make a public spectacle. Regrettably, Mac knew that eventually he would have to break the tranquil moment. He caused just enough noise to get Stella's attention, so that she would know that he was up; he hoped that it wouldn't scare her.

Stella screamed, throwing the mug from her hand at the noise. Coffee flew out over the living room. Her aim was good and Mac barely had time to jerk away from the spot before the mug shattered against the far wall. Mac just stood there, not knowing what he should make of what had just happened. It rekindled the urge to take care of her, but he suppressed it for the moment.

Shaken, Stella trembled as she tried to control the tears that wanted to fall. Instead, she became angry, and started swearing in Greek. She wasn't upset at Mac, but at herself for letting such a little thing upset her. To relieve the mood, she attempted to make it into a joke "Jesus, Mac. What are you trying to do? Give me a heart attack?"

"Sorry, are you all right?" the expression on Mac's face reflected the sincerity in his voice. "Yeah, just a little jumpy I suppose." She got up, her bare feet hitting the cool uncarpeted floor. "I should clean that up."

"Don't worry about it, Stella, I'll get it." Mac started cleaning up the broken mug and spilt coffee.

Stella stood self-consciously watching trying to avoid the thoughts she'd been thinking before Mac had surprised her. "So, Mac, you weren't serious about me taking two weeks off were you? I mean, I don't think I can handle not being at work that long."

"Stella, you've been through a tremendous ordeal; I don't think it's wise to go back just yet. Besides you need to let your hands heal before you'll be able to slip into a pair of latex gloves."

Stella frowned at her hands as if they had purposely betrayed her. It was something that she wouldn't be able to argue with Mac about. Her hands were defiantly not up to the normal use that they would have to go through on a regular shift of work with the surgical gloves. Mac added, "You'll go to see a counselor."

Stella's frown deepened at the thought of going over that with a stranger. She felt exposed enough having told Don and then going over it again with Mac. "Is that really necessary?” Mac looked down at the towel that held bits of broken pottery and was starting to stain brown from the coffee. Stella's eyes followed his and she sat back onto a chair, arms folded and knees drawn up.

Calmly, the dark-haired man tossed out the remains and walked over to Stella. He squatted down in front of her, placing a comforting hand on her knee. "Stella, I can make some adjustments but only if you go to see a counselor."

The green-eyed woman gazed at him for a minute. "If I can get the shrink's okay, you'll let me come back to work?"

Mac considered what she said for a moment while he gave her knee an absentminded squeeze, rubbing his thumb up and down. "If the therapist says that you would be better at work, we'll give it a trial run."

Stella thought it over for a couple of minutes and then nodded. She was very aware of the warmth that emanated from his hand on her knee. She forced herself to not read anything into it.

"Okay." Stella's voice was a choked whisper as she followed her nod of assent with that one word. It worried Mac but he gave her a small smile and reluctantly stood up, giving his friend some space.

The buzzer went off, announcing that the laundry was dry. It helped to dispel the growing tension.

"Do you want anything to eat this morning?" Mac asked, trying to keep the flow of conversation going.

Stella considered the offer a moment before deciding that she was hungry. "Sure, but you don't need to do anything fancy. Cereal or toast is fine."

Mac retreated to the kitchen to gather together the meal that Stella had requested. "Do you want another cup of coffee with that?"

"Sure."

Stella sat at the dining table once more drinking a cup of coffee as her partner made breakfast. "Thanks for letting me stay last night, Mac. I... ah, should think about going back home."

"Your place is still a mess. Stella, do you really think that it would be better for you to be alone? You can stay here." Mac didn't want to see Stella leave but he knew that he had to give her another alternative, seeing that he'd already made head way in getting her to see a counselor. "If you'd rather, the offer still stands for that hotel at the lab's expense. I just don't think it’s a good idea for you to try and face that mess just yet."

Stella stared into her mug mulling over her options: she could take Mac up on the hotel paid for by the lab: that would just give her more alone time to go over the incident, which would drive her crazy. She could force herself to go back to her apartment; a shudder ran through her body; her partner was right, it wasn't yet time to go back there. Or she could stay with Mac even though it would be awkward after what had happened between them; somehow even with that, Stella felt safe in his presence, and she knew that unlike many, Mac wouldn't push.

She nodded and smiled at him, not regretting the decision to stay. It had been one of the easiest decisions she'd ever made.

Mac won that battle, but he didn't know if he should be happy or upset; before Frankie, Stella would have put up more of a fight over someone telling her what to do; she did that even at work.

She stayed with Mac for a week. During that time there was discomfort between them as they hedged around the subject of the night she had shown up on his doorstep; Stella was unwilling to talk about it, and Mac appeared to be all right with letting her have her way. Stella didn't want that night of passion to ruin her friendship with Mac. He had made her feel loved and worthwhile. But Frankie was still lurking in her mind and would jump out at times. She also wasn't sure if Mac was really ready for that kind of relationship... intimate relationship. They were boss and employee... beside; she had only just gotten out of a bad situation. She had no desire to turn her feelings for Mac into a crutch; he deserved better.

Surprisingly she didn't have to wait to get an appointment for a therapist, though she didn't go to the one from the lab. It was a private matter and she didn't want any more attention brought to the incident than had already been. Dr. Kristen Merchlin hadn't been what she thought a counselor would be like, considering how T.V. shows portrayed them. She was soft looking, dark grey eyes, straight shoulder length light brown hair a personality that border on motherly all though she appear to be only in her early thirties. Stella had been on the defensive at first, not wanting to talk, but slowly Kristen had her talking: not only about the shooting, but also about her childhood, work, friends and Mac. In that first session the therapist had found out more about Stella than anyone else she knew.

Kristen had been glad to hear that she was staying with a friend. She'd felt that it would help Stella to have a constant source of moral support, without the guilt that she would be disturbing someone.

After only the second session, Stella asked Kristen if she thought she was ready to go back out in the field.

"Do you think that will help you to take control over your life again?" Kristen inquired with genuine interest.

From Stella's spot on her chair she pondered the question. Her legs were up in a curled position. It was a defensive pose, one that she had adopted since her confrontation with Frankie. "Probably, but it's not the only reason."

"And what is this other reason?" asked the counselor in a patient tone. "Or is Mac the only other reason you came to see me?"

Stella fidgeted, "It's... It's my job."

Kristen watched and waited for the other woman to continue.

The curly-haired woman stood abruptly in frustration and began to pace. Words began to tumble out, "Okay, so maybe it's a way to get control over my life, but I'm a cop. I should be out there catching criminals, not here telling some complete stranger my life story, which has no bearing on how I do my job. I don't know why Mac insisted that I had to see a counselor." When she ran out of steam she sat down, hugging herself, and was visibly holding back tears.

"So, you're angry with your boss? Or are you really angrier at yourself?" Dr. Merchlin probed.

Stella sat thoughtfully; maybe she was angry with Mac, but Kristen was right; she was angrier with herself than with her partner. She wasn't dealing well with the whole ordeal: the violent assault, taking another's life and the whole Mac issue. The assault had really come from out of nowhere. Shooting Frankie hadn't even been in the line of duty and he had been someone that she had thought was special until seeing that video on the Internet. She still had mixed feelings about Frankie, ranging from anger to relief. A part of it, was that she didn't feel as guilty as she thought she should, but she just couldn't get over the sense of relief that she was alive, and he was dead and couldn't come after her. Well he couldn't in the real world, but at night, in her dreams, it was another story. Added to the fact that feelings she thought had been locked away were very much on the surface, creating as much havoc on her emotions as the shooting did. Still it all boiled down to her being able to returned to work so that she would be so tired she wouldn't be able to dream when she got to sleep, or the alternative of staring up at the ceiling, mulling over all of the possibilities from her relationship with Frankie, or the fact she was ready to start one with Mac, if he even felt the same about her. "Maybe."

Week later Stella paused outside of her apartment door; she hadn't been back since the night that Mac had left her off there. The crime scene tape had been removed; it now looked like the rest of the doors in the hallway.

Mac had wanted to come with her, but she had told him that she really needed to do this on her own. The only way she could convince him was to have her therapist call him. They made a compromise though: when Mac was done at work, he would come by to make sure she was all right.

'Come on, Stella, just do it.' Her internal nudge had Stella unlocking the door and stepping over the threshold once more.

She stood there with keys in hand, looking over the interior of her apartment. The clean-up people had done a good job. It was only in her mind that she saw the way it had been: with a chair over-turned, blood on the carpet and Frankie lying on the living room floor, dead. She almost walked back out, but she steeled herself and shut the door behind her.

Kristen had said it would take time, but Stella was impatient with herself. She was tired of being scared and jumping at her own shadow or movement and sound from everyone else; that wasn't the Stella Bonasera that her friends knew. Logically she knew that she would never be the same, but she wanted to be.

Stella re-acquainted herself with every inch of her apartment, allowing the memories, both good and bad. Then began the ritual of removing those things that reminded her most of the attack. She started with the bathroom, taking out the shower curtain and rugs. Next was the living room: the rug that had been cleaned and the chair that they'd knock over in their struggle. She dived into her closet, getting rid of any clothing that deeply reminder her of Frankie.

By the time Mac came there was a pile of stuff, in boxes and rolled up, ready for disposal. Some were headed out for the garbage; others would go to the Salvation Army. The apartment was almost bare with the amount of things that Stella was getting rid of. "Isn't there anything that you want to keep?"

"Of course I'm keeping some things, Mac. It's not like I'm tossing out my bed," though the thought had crossed her mind. She and Frankie had never done anything in it, but it had been an area that had seen much of her encounter. All the furniture was staying with the exception of a chair that had been knocked over in the struggle.

"I'll order take out if you're willing to help me get this stuff taken care of?" Stella coerced.

Mac gave his partner an assessing look wondering just how she was managing being back in her apartment. "Sure. Sounds good. What do want to get out first?"

They proceeded to haul the things out of the apartment, most went into his or her vehicle to be taken care of at a later time. By the time they were done the deliveryman had arrived with their food.

As they ate in silence, Mac couldn't help but have reservations about the idea of Stella coming back to stay in the place that held such terrible memories. He knew he was having a tough time not constantly looking at the spot that he'd found Stella.

Stella could see that Mac was unsettled sitting, eating, where a week and a half ago she had been fighting for her life and he had been the one to find her. That brought a conversation to mind that she'd had with Dr. Merchlin.

"Mac doesn't think I can handle going back to my apartment," the brunette detective stated with irritation.

"Why do you think that is?" the counselor probed, dark grey eyes fix on her patient's face. "More than likely because I've already run away from it once."

"Hhhmm... From what you've told me about him, and your relationship, isn't it just as likely that he is frightened that he might not be able to protect you?" Kristen speculated.

Stella had thought it over and concluded that the Counselor was right. Mac hadn't been able to save his wife and he'd only been able to help her by clearing her from a murder charge. Added to the mix was their change of from just friends to something more... even if they hadn't talked about it.

"You shouldn't keep Detective Taylor in limbo," advised Dr. Merchlin.

Kristen was right. Mac was just as emotionally shaky as herself and she'd let her fears and uncertainty take over. He needed to know that she didn't regret what had happen, but that she needed space and time to figure things out, that just being his friend was all she could handle at the moment.

"Mac?" The green-eyed woman said hesitantly.

"Yeah, Stella." The dark-haired man looked towards her expectantly.

Stella unconsciously toyed with her napkin as she summoned up the courage to broach the subject that they had been avoiding. "I know, I haven't been forthcoming with what's been happening in my sessions with Dr. Merchlin."

"Stella those appointments are confidential. You don't have to talk to anybody about them unless you want to." Mac leaned backward in the chair in an effort to show an air of relaxed acceptance.

"Yeah, I know, but it's also supposed to make it easier to open up to those who are close to you." As he backed away the curly-haired woman leaned forward in an expression of her desire to share confidences. "You got me distracted from what I wanted to say."

"Sorry," Mac gave Stella a small smile.

She grinned as well, warmed to see him finally relaxing. She just hoped that what she was about to say wouldn't drive that away, although it was an almost certainty that it would do just that.

"Well as I was going to say, Kristen and I have had a lot of discussion over the past week and a half. One of them was about you." Stella watched intently to see how he would react. When no emotions were forthcoming she continued on. "When I came to your place after I left the hospital... um, I was more vulnerable then I had ever been since I was a child. I needed to feel safe and you were able to provide that, then and now. Not only that, you gave me something that I haven't felt in a long time, if ever. Love."

Mac sat taken aback by his partner’s words. He hadn't felt he'd done enough for the lovely brunette. If anything, he'd imagined that his actions went more towards taking advantage of Stella's fragile state of mind. "Uh... I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything, Mac. I just wanted... no I needed you to know that what happened between us was wonderful, one of the best experience I've ever had. It's just that I don't want to lose our friendship. Since we've meet and became partners you have been the one constant in my life. I like to think it's been the same for you after Claire. And just now that's really all I can cope with after what transpired with Frankie. I don't want you to feel guilty about it." Stella's words tapered off as she apprehensively regarded the unyielding face of her companion.

Mac sat through Stella's speech, studying the play of emotions that wafted across her face, trying to gauge if she was upset or had deeper feelings about their encounter. He was relieved that it hadn't spoiled their closeness. He could understand her need to overcome the mental demons that plagued her nights and some part of her days. "Stella... You're right; you've been a continual light in my life." Mac bit lightly into his lip.

Stella reached out; her slender fingers circled his callused ones, taking his hand in comfort as always. Her lips curved into a warm smile that the ex-marine loved to see.

"I've admired and borrowed your strength on more than one occasion." Mac admitted as he lightly squeezed Stella's hand in return. "Your friendship is one of the most important things in my life. Stella, you don't have to worry that it will fade away."

They sat in a comfortable silence for several minutes, gaining solace from each other's company. Mac's watch alarm beeped, dispelling the moment.

Mac flushed abashedly, "I suppose it's time for me to go." He reluctently let go of Stella's hand as he stood to retrieve his coat.

The curly-haired woman felt a sense of loss but made no comment as she stood watching her friend. She followed her partner to the door. She didn't want him to go, but knew that to get through her fear, she needed to do it on her own.

"We're all right?" Stella stood against the door, fidgeting with the handle.

Mac smiled thinly, "Yeah, we're fine."

As Mac left, he knew that even though Stella was on the road to regaining her life back, it was going to be a long time before she would let anybody past the new barriers that she had erected. She had also made it plain that she was still dealing with what had happen between them, but needed him to remain her friend. It was going to be hard, but he had already made the decision that Stella was in charge of how their relationship would go. Even so, he held onto the hope that with time they'd be able to explore a closer relationship.