AN/ This idea just kind of stuck around in my head for a while, and I thought I'd post it. There will be Smacked in later chapters, but I don't want to spoil it. So, Claire never died in 9/11 but they divorced. Stella and Louie got together and had Danny, but Louie's not in the picture...right now. And, I think that's all you need to know to enjoy this.

AN2/I've also got another (similar) AU that I wrote about the same time as this one, so if you'd like to read that, let me know and maybe I'll post it.

Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own the show or the characters.

"The love of a family is life's greatest blessing."

-Anon

"Flack!" A familiar young voice called to him from down the hall as Don Flack emerged from the stairwell.

Smiling broadly, Don lifted the seven year old boy into his arms easily. "Slow down Messer."

Danny smirked happily at the greeting and gingerly touched the dark bruise that was starting to form around his eye, before a frazzled Stella Bonasera rounded the corner with a Batman backpack in her hands.

"Daniel Messer!" She sighed exasperatedly as Flack quickly put the boy back down. "You were supposed to wait for me to finish talking to Sheldon."

"Sorry Mom." Danny had the good sense to look slightly abashed, though the quick grin he shot to Flack showed his true lack of remorse.

"Now what is Danny Messer doing out of school early on a weekday?" Flack mused rubbing his chin thoughfully, despite the fact that he already knew the answer since Stella had been called away from a scene by the school to come and pick up her son. If that wasn't enough, Danny's roughed up appearance and shit-eating grin would have been more than enough to clue in the over-worked detective.

Danny's ashamed look was enough to send a lesser man into hysterics, but under Stella's cautious eye, Flack fought the grin that threatened to explode. Poor kid looked as if he ran over somebody's puppy.

"Igotinafight." Danny mumbled so low that Don had to strain to hear. If he hadn't already known what had happened, Danny's explanation would have been indecipherable.

"You what?" Don stifled chuckle at the sight of Stella's angry countenance.

"I got in a fight." Danny admitted more clearly, glancing up to once again witness his mother's wrath.

"A fight! Despite how many times we've talked about not getting into fights—My son got in a fight!" She threw up her arms in exasperation. "Here I'm having a nice day at work and I get a phone call telling me that my seven year old son punched a fifth grader in the face." Stella cried her green eyes danced with fury while she turned to look at Flack incredulously. "Can you believe it?"

Truth be told, Don could believe it, but he wasn't about to tell Stella that--especially right now while her anger brewed just beneath the surface. "No. Wow. A fight?" He replied in mock surprise. Danny was a good kid, and though he could get a little hot-headed sometimes, Don was certain that the kid had a good reason.

Stella obviously saw through his placating response and shot him a disapproving look before kneeling down to her son's eye level. "Wait right here, I have to tell Mac why you're here." She scolded seriously, the warning look in her eyes daring him to disobey.

Danny nodded soberly, unwilling to spur his mother onto any further tirades.

"Was he a big fifth grader?" Flack asked in a conspiratorial whisper once the glass door to Mac's office closed.

"Oh, yeah." Danny grinned proudly, "You shoulda seen 'im. He's this huge kid and he came up to Mikey Brown and he tried to take his—"

"Danny." Mac's firm voice interrupted the young boy and Danny cringed noticeably. Stella stood slightly behind Mac with her arms folded in front of her, her face etched with disapproval.

"Hi Mac." He turned around sheepishly, waving awkwardly. "What's up?"

Flack laughed heartily at the situation in front of him before patting the boy on the back and getting back to the precinct. "Good luck Danno."

"Your mom told me you got in a fight." Mac's disapproval was almost tangible as he looked down at the second grader.

"Yeah." Danny sighed, suddenly unable to keep the gaze of the older man who often acted like a surrogate father to him. Heaven knows his own father was barely in his life at all.

"I thought we talked about this last time." Mac's lips were tightened into a line as he looked sternly at the little boy who gulped and looked as though he wanted the earth to swallow him whole.

Looking up to his mother's disapproving eyes, Danny nodded sheepishly. "Uh--"

"Oh, we did." Stella agreed, her jaw clenched tightly. "You just wait until I get you home, young man, where we can really talk about this."

Danny gulped nervously, not at all excited about the prospect.

"Why don't you go wait in my office Danny?" Mac offered, taking pity on the boy who was so obviously ready to get in trouble. "We'll have a little talk, man to man."

Danny winced. "I guess so." He sulked into the office.

"Mac, you don't have to—" Stella tried to stop him. She was grateful that her son had a man in his life, even if it wasn't his father, but she hated feeling as though Mac felt obligated to her and her son.

"Let me talk to him." Mac assured her, grateful for any opportunity that he had to help. "Then you can finish up in Trace and take him home."

"Alright." She relented after a moment, hoping that at least someone could get through to Danny.

Stella couldn't force herself to keep her eyes on the evidence in front of her. Instead, she watched carefully as Mac and Danny talked. Sighing, she turned back to the evidence at hand. Danny was a bright kid, and the last thing he needed in life was to be labelled as a 'problem child'. She had fought to give him a better childhood than she had received herself, but sometimes, she wondered if it was really enough.

Was it enough to keep him from following in his father's footsteps?

She wasn't sure.

But she'd be damned if she let her only son fall through the cracks.

Not when she'd spent her whole childhood wishing for a family.

Hearing the glass doors open, she smiled up at her longtime friend.

"I don't know what I'm going to do with him." Stella groaned, as Mac entered the room and pulled on his lab coat.

"He's a good kid." Mac defended, pulling on a pair of latex gloves and grabbing the dish with the trace amounts from his earlier case. "He just needs to learn to control his temper."

"I know." Stella dismissed. "He's just too much like his dad."

Mac looked at her cautiously, unsure of what to say. Stella's love life was always a touchy subject—especially when it pertained to Louie Messer. This time, however, Mac couldn't disagree more. "Did he tell you why he punched that kid?" He inquired gently.

"Yeah. Mark—they've had a few run ins before—he was picking on some other kid and Danny stood up to him." Stella admitted quickly, batting away a stray strand of curls that fell into her eyes.

"Sounds like Danny takes after his mother a lot more than he does his dad." Mac observed. As soon as Danny had confessed the circumstances of his suspension, Mac couldn't help but notice the similarity between Danny's fierce desire to protect the defenseless, and Stella's own fiery Greek temper.

Stella smiled appreciatively, remembering all of the instances where she and Mac had been at odds over her own short temper. After a moment, she added "You know Mac, you'd make a really great dad."

"Me? No." He scoffed. Seeing her raised eyebrow, he felt compelled to reply, "I'm not made to be a father." Despite his insistence, Stella was sure she saw a small smirk and sparkle in his eyes at the idea of him being a father. "You know what Stella? I'll finish up here. You take Danny home and take the next couple of days off. You deserve it."

Stella looked at him searchingly for a moment. "Thanks. You sure?"

"Positive." Mac smiled at the delighted sparkle that ignited in her eyes, having no idea that his life was about to change dramatically.

"Mac Taylor" He answered his phone automatically, not bothering to look up from the files he was studying.

"Mr. Taylor, this is Ellen Conrad you remember my daughter Claire?"

Mac's heart dropped momentarily at the thought of his ex-wife. He had always loved Claire, but he had commitments to his country, to the city, and to the lab. Claire was a terrific woman, and deserved far more than he had been able to give her.

"Of course I remember Claire, how is she?" He smiled as he let his mind fall back to the happy times he and Claire had shared. His happy memories were cut off by Ellen's next pronouncement.

"Dead." Ellen said coldly. "Two months ago."

Mac sat down on the chair, floored by the revelation. Two months. He hadn't known. He knew Claire wanted her space, wanted the ability to start a new life, but for two months, she had been gone. And he hadn't even known.

"I'm sorry." He offered, unsure of what else to say.

"That's not why I'm calling." She stated bluntly, the weariness in her voice seeping through the phone. "It's about your daughter."

"My… daughter?" Mac sat back, absolutely floored. He forced his mind to focus on the words she was saying, though he couldn't help but feel dazed.

"She turns seven next month. Look, Mr. Taylor, I know you didn't know about her, and Claire made me promise to let you live your life, but I just can't give her the attention she needs."

"Uh—" Mac stated, uncharacteristically at a loss for words.

"I know it's a lot to put on you." She started, with a slight condescending tone in her voice "But Lindsay is your daughter and—"

"No." Mac snapped quickly to action. "I just didn't know, can I see her? How does this work? Lindsay?" His mind was racing in several directions at the same time.

"Lindsay. Lindsay Taylor. Like I said, detective, I just can't take care of her anymore." Ellen said simply, though Mac had a nagging feeling that she wasn't being completely honest. "We live in Montana, but I can have her on the first flight out."

"Okay." Mac blew out his breath, "Can I come get her?" He asked, not knowing whether it was appropriate for a small girl to fly by herself.

"When can you get here?" Ellen breathed out a sigh of relief. "We'll meet you at the airport and you can take her immediately."

"I can be out on the first plane out of JFK."

"Thank heavens." Ellen sighed, and Mac stared at the phone in shock. How could any woman be so calloused towards her own granddaughter? Before he could react further, Ellen had rattled off her phone number to call in case anything changed and had ended the call.

Mac stared at the phone in his hand, sure that this could not possibly be happening. One thing was for certain, he needed to get down to the bottom of this.

"Hey Mac, I've got the results on the Martinez murder." Adam passed the results that he anticipated Mac wanted.

"Adam, I need you to look something up for me, but I need you to keep this between us." Mac instructed, discarding the file that Adam had put in his hands.

"Sure boss." Adam looked at Mac quizzically before spinning his chair around to the computer system. "What do you need?"

"I got a phone call," Mac sighed, "I need you to run a search on birth records for the last ten years."

"Sure, what's the name?"

"Lindsay Taylor."

"Taylor?" Adam looked back in surprise.

Mac nodded curtly. "Taylor."

"None in New York and surrounding areas." Adam's fingers flew over the keyboard as he looked to Mac for further instruction. When Mac hesitated, Adam continued, "Which is kind of weird, you know? It doesn't seem like it'd be that uncommon of a name. I mean—"

"Widen the search." Mac commanded briskly.

"Alright, I have 34 Lindsay Taylor's nationwide, I'm going to need more." Adam wisely kept quiet, waiting for further instructions.

"Any in Montana?" Mac cleared his throat.

"One. Lindsay Monroe Taylor. Born to a Claire Conrad and—woah—" Adam's eyes widened in shock.

"And?" Mac prodded, despite the fact that he could clearly see the record himself. He just needed the confirmation from someone else. This had to be a dream. Claire wouldn't have kept this from him.

"And Mac Taylor."