fic: (CSI:NY) Ignition - Part 1
Ignition
Author: CK
Rating: P16
Summary: Once ignited, some flames burned, lasting lifetimes and guiding the people they belonged to. But this one burned so bright that it blinded them and kept them from seeing that they we're heading the wrong ways in their lives.
Disclaimer: CSI:NY is legal property of CBS, Anthony E. Zuiker and his writers, as well as Polydor. And as far as I am concerned, credit also goes to Melina Kanakaredes and Gary Sinise. I promise to be careful with them, and to repair whatever heartbreak I cause them ;)
Author's Note: I'm usually not the one for OOC and AU stories. However, I got stuck with this idea and it just didn't want to leave me alone. It's mostly consistent with the normal timeline of the show as well as the general character development, but it still is somehow AU for me. Oh, and one thing: Stella/Adam never happened.
This is partly inspired by 6x18 "Rest In Peace, Marina Garito". The ending touched me so deeply that it seemed to be perfect as a starting point for this story. It is, however, not really connected. That's why the timeline doesn't add up 100 per cent.
The situation was awkward, to say at least. He woke up with her lying in his arms, in her bed, after a night of endless kisses and touches. The whole night through, it had felt right. Now, it felt awfully wrong. He didn't want it to. But if he was honest with himself...
Mac Taylor had never been spontaneous when it came to women. He was the old-fashioned kind of man; he would take a woman to dinner, buy her flowers and spend some time with her before going to bed with her. Not that he could claim that he hadn't done it in that order this time as well. He had shared dinner with her more times than he was able to count, just like they'd lunch together, and even breakfast. They'd spent years, more than a decade, with each other, befriending each other, relying on the other, getting closer and closer, forming a bond no one around them fully understood, but everyone recognized and respected. He had even given her flowers, and he distinctly remembered that one red rose she had welcomed with a smile and a sparkle in her eyes. Nevertheless, this was completely different. Because this wasn't just any woman he had courted. This was his best friend, Stella Bonasera.
The alarm clock on the nightstand showed 5:16 am in glowing green digits when Mac turned his head to look at it, careful in his movement as to not to disturb the sleeping woman cuddled up to him, or more, half draped over him. There was still some time till they would have to get up; till he would have to get ready for work.
When he had found her the evening before, sleeping on the couch in the lab, it had been the last confirmation he needed to know that the case had gotten to her much more than almost every other case. She had woken up when he had pulled the blanket up to cover her, looked with those emerald green orbs at him, and instantly he had insisted to take her home so she would be able to catch a good night's sleep. Also he had told her that she would take the next day off, no arguments.
Mac had only wanted to do what good friends did - make sure she was alright, because he cared about her.
He for sure didn't have had in mind being in her bed not even two hours later - making love to her.
He was glad when she stirred and slowly woke around quarter to six. He had planned to get up at six, and hadn't wanted to disturb her.
"Mornin'," she mumbled sleepily against his chest, and the tingling her breath caused on his skin reminded him too much of last night. He detached himself from her to sit up, rubbing his hands over his face, before he looked at her.
"I have to get ready for work," he told her, an apologetic note in his voice, and Stella smiled understandingly. When duty called, he was the last person on probably the whole wide world to ignore it, and she knew it. Her hand caressed his back as she sat up, too, and pulled his head to her with her other hand. She kissed him deeply, and he almost lost himself in the moment, before he regained his senses and pulled back carefully. "I really need to..."
"Sure. I understand." They got up together, and Mac was about to head for the bathroom, but Stella stopped him.
"You can take your shower in a minute, just let me quickly..." She smiled and pointed to the bathroom door, and he nodded. But when she turned around, some happy glow about her, he knew he couldn't do it any longer.
"Stella," he said quietly, taking her hand gently and tugging at it to turn her around and make her look at him. "We..." Stopping, he looked down for a moment. He was a gentleman. And gentlemen didn't dismiss the woman they had just slept with. But he needed to put things right, and he needed to do it now. "We can't... we can't repeat... this." He was almost whispering in the end, afraid to hurt her, and himself. It was only a fraction of a second in which her smile faltered slightly before she rebuilt it, but he wouldn't have been him, the man who had known her for so many years, hadn't he noticed it.
"No, you're right, we can't."
"I don't want you to think I-"
"It's alright, Mac. Don't worry about it." Her voice was, to her own surprise, strong when she answered him. Even then her smile never wavered, and for a moment she wondered where she took that strength from - or how her voice had come past the lump in her throat that felt like it wanted to choke her. What they had done was never to be repeated. They simply couldn't. It had only been a night of passion, of acting out desires that had developed over the time. Rationally, she understood that.
Yet something inside her broke when she had to admit to herself that what she and Mac had shared that night was a 'one time only' thing. Something shattered into a million tiny pieces, boring into every fiber of her body, and she couldn't make out whether it was her heart or her soul, or both, that had just suffered.
When he opened the door to go, she felt that he was about to leave more than just her apartment. As well as she felt that she had to let him leave.
The lonely tear that rolled down her cheek and fell onto her carpet, leaving a dark spot, was never taken notice of. The wet remnant simply dried away, leaving nothing but a memory.
-I-I-
Only a few weeks later, her apartment was empty. Most of her things were in New Orleans already, and she would follow in about two days, leaving New York to start a new career, and probably also a new life. Hadn't she been so sure about it when she had gotten the offer, after that one night, she knew it was her best choice.
She and Mac had tried to work together normally, like they had in all those years before, and as long as they were working cases, they actually could even make themselves believe for a short while that nothing unusual, nothing that was turning their lives, and more so, their relationship around, had happened. Personally, in private, however, there was barely any more contact. No sharing of meals, no coffee breaks together, no easy chatting. At the lab, at crime scenes, they still worked perfectly. But other than that...
The day came when they had to say goodbye, after a small party the team had organized for her, and Stella once again felt those shattered pieces dig into her. They stood before each other, not daring to hug, not even daring an innocent touch of hands - not daring to do what had been so natural for them and their friendship in bygone days. They just stood and stared, single tears rolling down Stella's cheeks one by one, and even in his eyes she saw some of the salty water glistening.
She had long since accepted that there was no future for them; that, although Mac cared deeply for her, he didn't feel the same way she did, didn't love her the way she loved him. She certainly hadn't wanted or planned to fall in love with him, and yet she had found herself powerless against her own feelings slowly building up and then one day cruelly confronting her with a truth she had for so long tried to deny. She had fallen for her best friend.
Men came into and left in her life, and most were either useless - or used her. One after another made her lose her confidence more and more until the only ones she trusted anymore were the men in her team, and the only one she talked to openly, told about her problems and fears, was Mac Taylor.
Part of her had thought that there was some deeper meaning to him following her to Greece as he had done a year prior. Or more, part of her had hoped for it to be a sign, the sign of something changing. But they came back and everything was as it had been before. They were friends, very close friends - period.
It had been the moment when she had first faced the possibility that there was never going to change anything between them. To some extent, she surely didn't mind the unshakeable nature of their connection. But when your heart got to the point when this wasn't enough anymore...
She got the offer from the New Orleans Crime Lab and at first hesitated. She loved New York, and everything she had ever called family was there. Leaving those people was the hardest thing to do for her. On the other hand, would she stay, her career would stagnate. Still, she didn't make the decision until after the night. That one night.
It had been such a clichéd situation. She had been emotionally churned up, and he had stayed with her after bringing her home so she wouldn't be alone. They had sat on her couch, with a glass of wine, and talked. Soon, she had fallen asleep, leaned against him, he had wanted to carry her over to her bed and... They had gotten caught in the moment, staring into each other's eyes, not completely sober anymore, though still capable of coherent thoughts. In the middle of the room he had stood, with her in his arms, as she had leaned in and, instead of kissing his cheek, tried his lips. Then she had found herself lying on her bed, kissed fiercely by one Mac Taylor. The night didn't progress as wildly as it had started. While it was passionate indeed, it was also slow and sensual and exploring, and Stella savored every moment of it, treasured it, hopeful that those memories would be soon accompanied by many similar ones more.
She had been sure that it was the turning point for them and their relationship - finally. Had only she known how terribly right she had been with that thought.
The morning came, and with it those words of him, and then him leaving. She knew she had to make a decision. One that wouldn't cause her too much harm. So she took the offer and prepared to leave.
In the end, their goodbye was quick and nothing that showed how deep their friendship went. Mac wasn't the one to make the first move, and she - she just couldn't overcome her hurt. So she replied to him wishing her all the best with nothing more than "And you.", turned, and went away.
-I-I-
Mac didn't hear from her in three years. He tried to phone her, to write her, even got Lindsay to contact her - but Stella never responded. It wasn't like her, and still, after reassuring himself with the help of some contacts inside NOPD that she was alright, he realized that she obviously simply had made a clean sweep, leaving her old life behind.
Leaving him behind.
The old phrase that things had changed since their night together applied to them in every sense. He had never forgotten the expression in her eyes when he had told her that there was no repeating of that one night, as wonderful as it had been. It had been the moment he had seen, really seen, for the first time what this expression he had noticed more than once in all those years they had known each other meant. She was in love with him.
Never before he had thought about it, that something like this could possibly happen. They were friends, best friends, confidants, and closer to each other than to any other person. She had helped him dealing with Claire's death, with his inner demons, his grief and guilt, and he had always been there for her whenever she needed someone. One might say that at some point, their acquaintance could and should have resulted in something far deeper than good friendship, but still, to him it was always only platonic.
Sure there was some truth to what people said - that a man and a woman could never be close friends without developing a certain sexual attraction and tension. It was normal, it was... biological. So maybe they had been attracted to each other. They were a man and a woman, and not exactly unattractive. He would be lying if he said that he hadn't thought of Stella as beautiful, because that's what she was. A beautiful, intelligent, passionate woman who he was lucky to be friends with. But nothing more. He would never have been so bold as to really expect it to happen, much less to wish for it; still it hadn't surprised him when they had given in to natural desires that had been kept well hidden for years.
But falling in love again? After Claire? The thought had never even occurred to him. Not even seeing the love in Stella's eyes, and at the same time how heartbroken she was because of his rejection had changed that. He had dated a few women, and with Peyton, it had even gotten more serious - but even then he had been far from being in love.
Mac Taylor didn't fall in love. He had loved once and lost this love. How should he ever feel so deep again?
"Mac?" Adam suddenly brought him back from his thoughts, standing in the doorway and looking rather confused. "Are you alright?" There was concern evident in the young man's voice and Mac allowed himself a small smile.
"Yes," he simply answered, before his look fell onto the tablet PC in Adam's hands. "Are these the results from the fabric?"
"Yep, and you're gonna love this." At Taylor's raised eyebrow, Adam added a "Boss", before continuing, "there's actually only one manufacturer who produces this kind of satin-georgette-mix."
"I take it you got an address?"
"Danny and Flack are already on their way."
"Good work."
It was business as usual. Day in, day out, they got new cases, and they solved those cases. Countless ones in the course of the years. It seemed like nothing had changed; yet Mac knew that the team missed Stella.
With her gone, he needed a new second-in-command, and Jo Danville proved to be just the right person. Competent, clever, courageous, was she the perfect addition to the team, and good to fill the space Stella had left. At least professionally. While Jo was a woman everyone at the lab liked, she wasn't her predecessor, naturally. Mac saw that his team thought like this, and he himself felt it only the more. No one was able to replace the empathy and enthusiasm the Greek-Italian woman had brought into their lives and work.
Especially Lindsay and Adam took it hard. Stella had been like a big sister, if not mother figure for them. Mac was glad Lindsay had Danny and Lucy, but even having them at her side couldn't keep away the sadness when Stella didn't respond to her messages, sadness he saw too often for his taste. And Adam... Adam was still his joking, boyish self - at first sight. If one looked closer, however, it was hard to miss the cynicism he came up with now and then. He seemed... lonely. And Mac couldn't blame him for it.
As far as he himself was concerned - well, he didn't even want to think about it. You didn't just scratch more than a decade of spending the majority of days with each other, at work or in your free time, becoming close friends, and move on. Even though it seemed to be exactly what Stella had done - he still refused to believe that, and thought that she at least had good reasons for it - he felt incapable to. He liked routines and consistency in his life, he needed it. It was part of him, had always been. Breaking ties with someone he had known longer than most persons in his life didn't count as consistency.
People use to say, life goes on. Whatever happens, it should never stop you. Stella leaving New York, their lives, his life, hadn't stopped him.
But it had made him just a tad slower.
TBC
Author: CK
Rating: P16
Summary: Once ignited, some flames burned, lasting lifetimes and guiding the people they belonged to. But this one burned so bright that it blinded them and kept them from seeing that they we're heading the wrong ways in their lives.
Disclaimer: CSI:NY is legal property of CBS, Anthony E. Zuiker and his writers, as well as Polydor. And as far as I am concerned, credit also goes to Melina Kanakaredes and Gary Sinise. I promise to be careful with them, and to repair whatever heartbreak I cause them ;)
Author's Note: I'm usually not the one for OOC and AU stories. However, I got stuck with this idea and it just didn't want to leave me alone. It's mostly consistent with the normal timeline of the show as well as the general character development, but it still is somehow AU for me. Oh, and one thing: Stella/Adam never happened.
This is partly inspired by 6x18 "Rest In Peace, Marina Garito". The ending touched me so deeply that it seemed to be perfect as a starting point for this story. It is, however, not really connected. That's why the timeline doesn't add up 100 per cent.
The situation was awkward, to say at least. He woke up with her lying in his arms, in her bed, after a night of endless kisses and touches. The whole night through, it had felt right. Now, it felt awfully wrong. He didn't want it to. But if he was honest with himself...
Mac Taylor had never been spontaneous when it came to women. He was the old-fashioned kind of man; he would take a woman to dinner, buy her flowers and spend some time with her before going to bed with her. Not that he could claim that he hadn't done it in that order this time as well. He had shared dinner with her more times than he was able to count, just like they'd lunch together, and even breakfast. They'd spent years, more than a decade, with each other, befriending each other, relying on the other, getting closer and closer, forming a bond no one around them fully understood, but everyone recognized and respected. He had even given her flowers, and he distinctly remembered that one red rose she had welcomed with a smile and a sparkle in her eyes. Nevertheless, this was completely different. Because this wasn't just any woman he had courted. This was his best friend, Stella Bonasera.
The alarm clock on the nightstand showed 5:16 am in glowing green digits when Mac turned his head to look at it, careful in his movement as to not to disturb the sleeping woman cuddled up to him, or more, half draped over him. There was still some time till they would have to get up; till he would have to get ready for work.
When he had found her the evening before, sleeping on the couch in the lab, it had been the last confirmation he needed to know that the case had gotten to her much more than almost every other case. She had woken up when he had pulled the blanket up to cover her, looked with those emerald green orbs at him, and instantly he had insisted to take her home so she would be able to catch a good night's sleep. Also he had told her that she would take the next day off, no arguments.
Mac had only wanted to do what good friends did - make sure she was alright, because he cared about her.
He for sure didn't have had in mind being in her bed not even two hours later - making love to her.
He was glad when she stirred and slowly woke around quarter to six. He had planned to get up at six, and hadn't wanted to disturb her.
"Mornin'," she mumbled sleepily against his chest, and the tingling her breath caused on his skin reminded him too much of last night. He detached himself from her to sit up, rubbing his hands over his face, before he looked at her.
"I have to get ready for work," he told her, an apologetic note in his voice, and Stella smiled understandingly. When duty called, he was the last person on probably the whole wide world to ignore it, and she knew it. Her hand caressed his back as she sat up, too, and pulled his head to her with her other hand. She kissed him deeply, and he almost lost himself in the moment, before he regained his senses and pulled back carefully. "I really need to..."
"Sure. I understand." They got up together, and Mac was about to head for the bathroom, but Stella stopped him.
"You can take your shower in a minute, just let me quickly..." She smiled and pointed to the bathroom door, and he nodded. But when she turned around, some happy glow about her, he knew he couldn't do it any longer.
"Stella," he said quietly, taking her hand gently and tugging at it to turn her around and make her look at him. "We..." Stopping, he looked down for a moment. He was a gentleman. And gentlemen didn't dismiss the woman they had just slept with. But he needed to put things right, and he needed to do it now. "We can't... we can't repeat... this." He was almost whispering in the end, afraid to hurt her, and himself. It was only a fraction of a second in which her smile faltered slightly before she rebuilt it, but he wouldn't have been him, the man who had known her for so many years, hadn't he noticed it.
"No, you're right, we can't."
"I don't want you to think I-"
"It's alright, Mac. Don't worry about it." Her voice was, to her own surprise, strong when she answered him. Even then her smile never wavered, and for a moment she wondered where she took that strength from - or how her voice had come past the lump in her throat that felt like it wanted to choke her. What they had done was never to be repeated. They simply couldn't. It had only been a night of passion, of acting out desires that had developed over the time. Rationally, she understood that.
Yet something inside her broke when she had to admit to herself that what she and Mac had shared that night was a 'one time only' thing. Something shattered into a million tiny pieces, boring into every fiber of her body, and she couldn't make out whether it was her heart or her soul, or both, that had just suffered.
When he opened the door to go, she felt that he was about to leave more than just her apartment. As well as she felt that she had to let him leave.
The lonely tear that rolled down her cheek and fell onto her carpet, leaving a dark spot, was never taken notice of. The wet remnant simply dried away, leaving nothing but a memory.
-I-I-
Only a few weeks later, her apartment was empty. Most of her things were in New Orleans already, and she would follow in about two days, leaving New York to start a new career, and probably also a new life. Hadn't she been so sure about it when she had gotten the offer, after that one night, she knew it was her best choice.
She and Mac had tried to work together normally, like they had in all those years before, and as long as they were working cases, they actually could even make themselves believe for a short while that nothing unusual, nothing that was turning their lives, and more so, their relationship around, had happened. Personally, in private, however, there was barely any more contact. No sharing of meals, no coffee breaks together, no easy chatting. At the lab, at crime scenes, they still worked perfectly. But other than that...
The day came when they had to say goodbye, after a small party the team had organized for her, and Stella once again felt those shattered pieces dig into her. They stood before each other, not daring to hug, not even daring an innocent touch of hands - not daring to do what had been so natural for them and their friendship in bygone days. They just stood and stared, single tears rolling down Stella's cheeks one by one, and even in his eyes she saw some of the salty water glistening.
She had long since accepted that there was no future for them; that, although Mac cared deeply for her, he didn't feel the same way she did, didn't love her the way she loved him. She certainly hadn't wanted or planned to fall in love with him, and yet she had found herself powerless against her own feelings slowly building up and then one day cruelly confronting her with a truth she had for so long tried to deny. She had fallen for her best friend.
Men came into and left in her life, and most were either useless - or used her. One after another made her lose her confidence more and more until the only ones she trusted anymore were the men in her team, and the only one she talked to openly, told about her problems and fears, was Mac Taylor.
Part of her had thought that there was some deeper meaning to him following her to Greece as he had done a year prior. Or more, part of her had hoped for it to be a sign, the sign of something changing. But they came back and everything was as it had been before. They were friends, very close friends - period.
It had been the moment when she had first faced the possibility that there was never going to change anything between them. To some extent, she surely didn't mind the unshakeable nature of their connection. But when your heart got to the point when this wasn't enough anymore...
She got the offer from the New Orleans Crime Lab and at first hesitated. She loved New York, and everything she had ever called family was there. Leaving those people was the hardest thing to do for her. On the other hand, would she stay, her career would stagnate. Still, she didn't make the decision until after the night. That one night.
It had been such a clichéd situation. She had been emotionally churned up, and he had stayed with her after bringing her home so she wouldn't be alone. They had sat on her couch, with a glass of wine, and talked. Soon, she had fallen asleep, leaned against him, he had wanted to carry her over to her bed and... They had gotten caught in the moment, staring into each other's eyes, not completely sober anymore, though still capable of coherent thoughts. In the middle of the room he had stood, with her in his arms, as she had leaned in and, instead of kissing his cheek, tried his lips. Then she had found herself lying on her bed, kissed fiercely by one Mac Taylor. The night didn't progress as wildly as it had started. While it was passionate indeed, it was also slow and sensual and exploring, and Stella savored every moment of it, treasured it, hopeful that those memories would be soon accompanied by many similar ones more.
She had been sure that it was the turning point for them and their relationship - finally. Had only she known how terribly right she had been with that thought.
The morning came, and with it those words of him, and then him leaving. She knew she had to make a decision. One that wouldn't cause her too much harm. So she took the offer and prepared to leave.
In the end, their goodbye was quick and nothing that showed how deep their friendship went. Mac wasn't the one to make the first move, and she - she just couldn't overcome her hurt. So she replied to him wishing her all the best with nothing more than "And you.", turned, and went away.
-I-I-
Mac didn't hear from her in three years. He tried to phone her, to write her, even got Lindsay to contact her - but Stella never responded. It wasn't like her, and still, after reassuring himself with the help of some contacts inside NOPD that she was alright, he realized that she obviously simply had made a clean sweep, leaving her old life behind.
Leaving him behind.
The old phrase that things had changed since their night together applied to them in every sense. He had never forgotten the expression in her eyes when he had told her that there was no repeating of that one night, as wonderful as it had been. It had been the moment he had seen, really seen, for the first time what this expression he had noticed more than once in all those years they had known each other meant. She was in love with him.
Never before he had thought about it, that something like this could possibly happen. They were friends, best friends, confidants, and closer to each other than to any other person. She had helped him dealing with Claire's death, with his inner demons, his grief and guilt, and he had always been there for her whenever she needed someone. One might say that at some point, their acquaintance could and should have resulted in something far deeper than good friendship, but still, to him it was always only platonic.
Sure there was some truth to what people said - that a man and a woman could never be close friends without developing a certain sexual attraction and tension. It was normal, it was... biological. So maybe they had been attracted to each other. They were a man and a woman, and not exactly unattractive. He would be lying if he said that he hadn't thought of Stella as beautiful, because that's what she was. A beautiful, intelligent, passionate woman who he was lucky to be friends with. But nothing more. He would never have been so bold as to really expect it to happen, much less to wish for it; still it hadn't surprised him when they had given in to natural desires that had been kept well hidden for years.
But falling in love again? After Claire? The thought had never even occurred to him. Not even seeing the love in Stella's eyes, and at the same time how heartbroken she was because of his rejection had changed that. He had dated a few women, and with Peyton, it had even gotten more serious - but even then he had been far from being in love.
Mac Taylor didn't fall in love. He had loved once and lost this love. How should he ever feel so deep again?
"Mac?" Adam suddenly brought him back from his thoughts, standing in the doorway and looking rather confused. "Are you alright?" There was concern evident in the young man's voice and Mac allowed himself a small smile.
"Yes," he simply answered, before his look fell onto the tablet PC in Adam's hands. "Are these the results from the fabric?"
"Yep, and you're gonna love this." At Taylor's raised eyebrow, Adam added a "Boss", before continuing, "there's actually only one manufacturer who produces this kind of satin-georgette-mix."
"I take it you got an address?"
"Danny and Flack are already on their way."
"Good work."
It was business as usual. Day in, day out, they got new cases, and they solved those cases. Countless ones in the course of the years. It seemed like nothing had changed; yet Mac knew that the team missed Stella.
With her gone, he needed a new second-in-command, and Jo Danville proved to be just the right person. Competent, clever, courageous, was she the perfect addition to the team, and good to fill the space Stella had left. At least professionally. While Jo was a woman everyone at the lab liked, she wasn't her predecessor, naturally. Mac saw that his team thought like this, and he himself felt it only the more. No one was able to replace the empathy and enthusiasm the Greek-Italian woman had brought into their lives and work.
Especially Lindsay and Adam took it hard. Stella had been like a big sister, if not mother figure for them. Mac was glad Lindsay had Danny and Lucy, but even having them at her side couldn't keep away the sadness when Stella didn't respond to her messages, sadness he saw too often for his taste. And Adam... Adam was still his joking, boyish self - at first sight. If one looked closer, however, it was hard to miss the cynicism he came up with now and then. He seemed... lonely. And Mac couldn't blame him for it.
As far as he himself was concerned - well, he didn't even want to think about it. You didn't just scratch more than a decade of spending the majority of days with each other, at work or in your free time, becoming close friends, and move on. Even though it seemed to be exactly what Stella had done - he still refused to believe that, and thought that she at least had good reasons for it - he felt incapable to. He liked routines and consistency in his life, he needed it. It was part of him, had always been. Breaking ties with someone he had known longer than most persons in his life didn't count as consistency.
People use to say, life goes on. Whatever happens, it should never stop you. Stella leaving New York, their lives, his life, hadn't stopped him.
But it had made him just a tad slower.
TBC