Three Words

Summary: Three words isn't much. And it's everything. It all depends on the words and the speaker. Stella knew the exact three words she needed to hear. And she knew from whom. SMacked one-shot

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. This is only a fan fiction story. CSI:NY and all the characters are the property of Anthony Zuiker and CBS. I'm just a fangirl who can't resist playing with their wonderful creations:-)

A/N: "Step by Step" will update next week as planned, this is just a little something that came to my mind yesterday – blame the dreadful weather and my restless mind that needed some Smacked badly;-)

A/N2: Set after the eppy 619 'Redemptio' – there might be some minor spoilers!

This is for Denese925 (thank you for our 'conversations' and the boost they give me), for AiP (I hope this gives the muse a smile – we need your stories!) and to ALL you SMACKIES out there:-)

And happy birthday, Melina!

Black leather jacket. Black leather pants. Black helmet. Shoes. Black.

As Stella assembled her long-forgotten motorcycle gear, extracting it from the deepest confines of her closet, she felt the thrill of speed already lodging herself in her stomach and adrenaline starting to course through her veins. She had already forgotten how much fun it was. She gave up her bike after she had graduated from the Police Academy to grudgingly switch over to cruisers and later the Avalanches in the Crime Lab. But she hadn't forgotten about bikes. Once in a while the bug would bite and she would rent herself one of the racing machines and go wild through the city, the speed and feeling of unrestrained freedom successfully erasing all her worries and giving her a new perspective on her life and everything that happened in it.

And she was damned if there was a time when she needed such a new perspective more than these days.

So today she wrapped up her latest case faster than usual and left the paperwork for tomorrow, all in preparation for what was waiting for her home. When she got there, her bike was already waiting for her parked on the sidewalk in front of her apartment building, the rental company having brought it by like she had ordered.

All she needed to do now was get dressed and get on her beast of machine. Everything to erase the look of Mac and Aubrey Hunter leaving the lab together earlier, probably for a date. It was then that she had grabbed her phone and called the bike in.

She groaned inwardly and zipped the tight jacket up with more energy than needed. No thoughts about Mac. This is your night, Stella, she upbraided herself with a wisp of self-deprecation. She grasped the helmet by its chin strap only to quickly place it under her armpit so that she could have both her hands free to close the door. Then she almost flew down the stairs, a pleasant anticipation building up in her stomach.

She allowed herself a silent sigh when the refreshing spring night air hit her face and she glanced down at her bike. A new black-and-silver Kawasaki Ninja 650R, the motorcycle was indeed one beast of a machine, displaying a refined aggressiveness with its tubular trellis frame and a beautifully rounded tail. She allowed her gaze to appreciatively sweep over the dynamic styling that made this bike a true work of art. But bikes weren't about the looks.

She swung one long leg over the seat and sat down comfortably. She launched the engine and it purred to life immediately, giving her a feel of the power hidden beneath waiting for her to release it. The smooth 650cc engine with 0-60 time of 3.8 seconds would leave all but the fastest supercars in its dust. And it would leave a large grin on her face.

She lowered her upper body to a racing position, squeezed the tank with her legs and pressed the bars. The bike took off with a reassuring growl and plenty of thrust forward. Every time, no matter how quickly it ended, the acceleration of a bike like this put a smile on her face and plenty of butterflies in her stomach.

Motorcyclists live for the twisties and Stella found herself almost whooping as she swiftly took a couple of sharp turns, expertly maneuvering in the evening traffic. The bike felt fast and predictable so she allowed herself to move to third and fourth gear and finally as she got onto the highway, she shifted to the fifth and then to the sixth. She passed traffic moving at highway speed at ease and relished the feeling of freedom and detachment comparable simply to nothing else.

That feeling didn't stay with her for long, though. As her thoughts started to circle around Mac again, she felt the shackles of loneliness and heart-break tie her down tighter than ever before. She was angry at him for getting to her that easily. But ever since Greece, she couldn't shake off her growing infatuation with her best friend and partner. As much as it scared her, she thought she wasn't in this alone. The longer looks, the gentler touches and Mac's changed demeanour in general all told her that the dynamics of their friendship was indeed shifting. And then Aubrey Hunter appeared out of nowhere and Mac didn't have eyes for anyone but her.

She allowed herself a loud ethnic curse into the night air but that didn't stop the tears from falling. However hard she bit down on her lower lip, they still stung at her eyes and blurred her vision. She shook her head slightly to make them go away. Still they didn't.

Suddenly front lights of a truck flashed from the opposite direction, effectively blinding her altogether. The rest was a blur. There was a deafening screech of rubber on asphalt and in one bloodcurdling moment she realized the truck was skidding and it was headed her way. She swerved to the right and closed her eyes, feeling the bike slide dangerously and fall, taking her with it.

XxXxXxX

Mac furrowed his eyebrows at his phone as it buzzed to life from its resting place on his night stand.

Although he didn't have much hope for getting any sleep at all this night, he was hoping he could at least peacefully lie with his eyes closed. He had lots to process. The evening with Aubrey hadn't been a pleasant one and he only hoped it wasn't her calling to ask him to re-consider his decision. What bugged him more, though, was the look on Stella's face. He knew she saw him leave with Aubrey and just before the elevator door closed behind them, he caught a glimpse of her looking after them, her defenses for once lowered when she thought no one saw her. There was so much pain in her eyes that he felt like wedging his leg into the door, stopping the elevator and telling her everything right there and then. But then the door closed and he was sealed off from her. It made his resolution stronger still, though. He would talk to her first thing in the morning. There was so much he had to tell her.

Then the phone brought him back from his silent reverie and he looked at the number on the phone's display. It was labeled as 'unknown' and his frown deepened.

"Taylor," he answered warily.

"Detective Mac Taylor?" came a female voice from the other end. "I'm calling from the ER at the Trinity General Hospital. We have a miss Bonasera here…"

Mac felt his throat tighten.

"What happened?" he finally forced himself to say.

"There's been a road accident, sir," the nurse explained.

His pounding heart seemed to stop for a moment, and then it started to palpably ache.

"And you've been listed as miss Bonasera's emergency contact," the nurse continued.

"I'm on my way," he said ending the conversation, a shroud of horror and disbelief enveloping him and cutting out the air supply to his lungs. He felt like he was drowning.

As he quickly dressed, the dreadful meaning of the words he had just heard began to sink in. It's finally happened. He had waited too long, had been too scared and it had cost him everything. He allowed her to slip away from him.

XxXxXxX

He rode to the hospital in a fog that enveloped his brain like a cocoon and refused to let go. He hoped this was all just a horrible nightmare his overtired mind was producing and he would wake up any second now.

He parked the Avalanche at the entrance to the ER not heeding that it was a restricted zone and raced towards the reception desk. Before he got there, he thought he caught a glimpse of Stella. She was walking away from him and he grabbed her by the shoulder to turn her around.

"Stella?" he asked in a frantic voice.

The woman turned. It wasn't her. Mac apologized and turned towards the reception desk.

And then he saw her. She was sitting in one of the chairs at the farthest end of the waiting room, her face hidden in her hands. She was in one piece and she was all right. He felt relief wash over him, only now realizing how tense he really was. Then as if sensing his presence, she looked up and her eyes immediately latched onto his. Her face at that moment was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

As he came up to her, his gaze went over her inspecting her for injuries, but she seemed whole and unharmed. There were only a couple of stitches over her brow.

She stood up to meet him and he was now able to take in her whole silhouette for the first time. He gulped seeing her perfect curves tightly clad in a black leather outfit. It didn't leave much space for imagination and he felt his heart rate immediately rise.

"Mac?" she asked, sounding as surprised as he was sure he looked. "What are you doing here?"

"They called me," he replied after he managed to get his heart rate to normal. "Told me you were in an accident…Are you all right?" he asked with concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said but he didn't believe a word.

"What happened?"

"A motorcycle accident."

He looked at her in amazement.

"You knocked down a motorcyclist?"

"No, I was the motorcyclist," she huffed. "But everyone's fine. It looked dangerous but it was just a fender bender."

His eyebrows wandered even higher, up to his hairline.

"I didn't know you rode a bike, Stella."

"Well, you don't know everything about me," she snapped and turned to leave.

Mac was surprised by the cold shoulder he was getting and wondered what he did to deserve it. He grabbed her hand as she was passing him and made her stop.

She turned sideways to face him with a tight-lipped expression.

"Stella, what's going on?"

"Nothing, Mac," she sighed. "I'm just tired and aching all over. Hardly my best day ever," seeing how agitated he really was about all this, she cracked a small smile. She couldn't overlook the fact that he really did care for her and how quickly he got here, no questions asked. She simply couldn't stay angry at him, especially for something he didn't really even know about. "And I probably ruined your date."

"I ruined it myself, Stell," he admitted quietly. "And I can't be happier about it."

She looked up at him in wonder, not fully comprehending what he meant. A half-smile graced his lips when he saw her bewildered expression. He put a hand to her arm and rubbed it gently, immediately feeling electric sparks dance under his skin and a pleasant warmth spread from his palm to his forearm and higher.

"Come on, Ghost Rider," he teased. "Let's get out of here."

She felt a wave of pleasant heat as he protectively placed his hand on the small of her back and led her out of the waiting room. They were almost at the exit when suddenly dr. Aubrey Hunter came to stand right before them. Stella felt Mac tense and she glanced at him in concern.

Aubrey looked up from the chart she was reading and as her eyes wandered over Stella and then Mac, who was holding her close in a supportive embrace, her lips tightened.

"You take good care of her, Mac," she finally said in a neutral tone.

"I intend to," he said with feeling and Stella thought she saw something crush behind the other woman's eyes. She wasn't sure, though, because her usually sharp mind was reeling from the emotion she detected in Mac's voice when he spoke about her.

Aubrey nodded in a defeated silence and allowed them to walk past. Then she went her separate way, in the opposite direction.

"Should I even start asking what this was all about?" Stella spoke as they stepped outside.

"Maybe you should," he said looking down at her. "But this isn't the place," he cut the conversation short. "I'll take you home," he offered in a lighter tone and she was glad to see him crack a small smile.

"Thanks, Mac, but I still have the bike," she turned him down. She downright refused to lean on anyone, even if it was Mac. It simply wasn't in her nature. "When I flashed my badge, the road cops were kind enough to tow it to the hospital parking lot," she went on to explain.

"Pulling rank?" he shook his head. "Using your badge for personal purposes?" he teased though in truth he was beyond happy to see her alive and well. That was all that mattered.

She laughed hearing him join in their usual banter.

Mac looked at her, marvelling at the sparks in her eyes and the mellifluous sound of her laughter. The sound was so sincere and spontaneous that he couldn't help loving it. Her.

"Think the boss will be mad?" she asked in a conspiratorial tone, her lips curling into that slightly mischievous, slightly teasing smile that never failed to make his heart skip a beat.

"I think all he'll care about is your well-being," he said, his hand wandering absent-mindedly up to trace the gentle curve of her chin.

She shivered slightly under his touch.

"Remind me to thank him," she said quietly not looking him in the eye. "And to apologize to him for snapping."

"Water under the bridge, Stell," he said with a smile and was rewarded with her finally looking at him and reciprocating his smile.

Then she turned towards the hospital parking lot.

"No way you're getting on that thing again tonight," Mac stopped her, knowing full well what she was up to. He was once again reminded that when it came to stubborn, they had both crawled from under the same stone.

"Mac…" she began in a warning tone.

"I mean it, Stell," he cut her off. "Even if I have to cuff you."

She put her hands on her hips, a playful smile dancing on her lips. "Why do I get the feeling you'd like that?"

"Oh, I would," he replied teasingly. "So don't push me, Bonasera."

"You're lucky I don't have my handcuffs on me, Taylor," she said. "Or I'd push you all right."

"I can't imagine where you'd put them in an outfit like that anyway," he said skeptically, eyeing the leather tightly clinging to her body.

"Oh, I could think of a couple of places," she said playfully and he felt his face turning a shade redder.

He cleared his throat, still unable to tear his gaze away from her amazing body. She would look sexy in a burlap sack, but in this bad-ass leather outfit she was giving the word 'sexy' a whole new meaning. He felt he couldn't quite focus on, well, on anything, when he looked at her dressed like that.

"Humour me, Stella," he finally managed. "I don't want to have to scrape you off the asphalt on my next crime scene."

She huffed but he could see she was starting to give in.

"Fine," she pouted her lips. "But you'd better sleep with your eyes open from now on, Taylor," she said threateningly, poking a finger into his chest but didn't argue further. She went around him and got into the Avalanche.

Mac sighed in relief that she conceded. Even if I have to sleep with my eyes open, her safety is worth it, he thought wryly getting in and starting the engine. They rode in silence for a long time before Stella decided to speak.

"So what was that with dr. Hunter just now, Mac?" she asked tentatively. She didn't want to pry but there was obviously something wrong. She was his friend and it was her job to listen to him and help him. Even if it would break her heart. "Everything all right?"

He shot her a wondering glance.

"You've just been in an accident and you're worried about my date?"

"I'm your friend, I'm always worried about you," she tried evasively, trying to cover up her nervousness.

He gave her another long look and sighed. He was meaning to tell her anyway. Now was as good a time as any.

"Well, it was a very memorable date," he started and she furrowed her eyebrows. "Probably the shortest in the history of dating," he said wryly.

Stella didn't want to get her hopes up and she stared at the windshield, not daring to look at him.

"I thought it was something serious," she said though the words almost made her choke.

He looked at her realizing how much this whole debacle really got to her even though his tough-as-nails friend tried hard not to show it.

"She was just a friend, Stella."

"Come on," she huffed. "I saw the way you look at her. You don't look at friends like that, Mac."

"I do at you," he said in a quiet, subdued tone, not looking at her.

"Since when?"

"Since longer than I can remember," he admitted.

His sudden statement left her speechless. She stared at him but couldn't read a thing from his expression because he was stubbornly looking at the road ahead, giving her only a glimpse of his profile. Still, she could see his set mouth and the creases on his forehead.

She had wanted to hear those words from him for longer than she knew. Longer than she remembered, to use Mac's words.

"Aubrey…," he continued as they pulled up at her apartment. Neither made a move to get out. Stella looked at him expectantly and he knew he owed her an explanation and something better than what he was giving her now. "We met through such a strange coincidence that I thought it had to mean something. It was so against the odds that when I found her again, I thought I had to give it at least a shot...," he glanced at her nervously but her expression was unreadable. "She's smart and talented and we have many similarities…"

He stopped seeing Stella fold her hands over her chest and raise an eyebrow at him.

"And despite all that," he enunciated. "I feel nothing for her. She isn't what I'm looking for. I was so wrong," he shook his head in a self-deprecating manner. "But I am grateful to her for one thing. Without her, I wouldn't have realized the most important fact of my life."

"And that is? That you like girl-scouts?" she couldn't help the biting remark escaping her lips.

He shot her a sideways look.

"All right, I deserved that," he said with a sigh. She wasn't making this any easier but he could hardly blame her. "One fact, Stella. She's not you," he put a hand to her cheek, a searching look in his eyes as he grazed her face, unsure of her reaction. "She helped me realize that you are the only woman I could ever be happy again with," he continued, his nervousness rising with each word.

Her prolonged silence seemed like an eternity to him. The look on her face was inscrutable. Had he just driven in the last nail to the coffin of the longest and most precious friendship in his life? What if he read her silence and anger wrong? What if she didn't want this and he had just spoiled a relationship that meant so much to her as well?

She stayed silent still. But it wasn't because she was angry. How could she be? It was that look in his eyes. He had only ever given that look to…

"And you only needed me in a near-death road accident to tell me that?" she finally asked aiming for a casual tone, though the effect was somewhat diminished by the tears lurking in the corners of her eyes. "Wasn't near-drowning enough?"

"It did get me thinking," he quipped.

"Boy, Taylor, you really are a tough player," she pouted her lips. "What a girl has to do to get your attention…"

"I'm so sorry, Stell," he said remorsefully.

She shook her head, her brownish golden curls spilling around her face and covering her shoulders in a wild dance.

"For such a smart man, you sure can be thick sometimes, Mac."

"You have that effect on me," he said softly. "I can't focus when you're around."

"Do I sense a weakness in the fearless detective Taylor?" she teased.

"Yes. And I love my weakness," he said with a smile. "I love you."

"Finally the three words I really wanted to hear," she smiled snaking a hand around his neck and guiding his lips to hers.

He gathered her closer to his chest and deepened the kiss, his tongue grazing her lower lip and sending electric sparks all through her body. His right hand wandered slowly up her body to cup her cheek and then get lost in her curls, bringing her closer to him still.

They both remained in their passionate embrace until they lost their breath and much longer after that as if they wanted to pour all the long years of suppressed emotions, feelings, fears and love into that one single kiss. When they finally pulled away an inch, Stella looked into his eyes, the sudden certainty and clarity of her emotions amazing her.

"I love you," she said.

Three words. It isn't much. And it's everything.

THE END

A/N: The image of Stella on a bike just wouldn't go away and I simply had to do something about it;-) How did you like it? Do let me know;-)