179 days! Officially less than 6months to go ;)

He liked the dichotomy of the city.

The infectious, frenetic energy of the streets below; the millions of people, millions of vehicles, millions of noises.

Then; the serenity of being 42 storeys above. The stillness amongst the towers and skyscrapers, the birds – both animal and mechanical – flying around, the silence broken occasionally by the sirens and car horns floating on the winds.

Mac watched the moonlight dance across the Hudson and East Rivers, the December chill barely acknowledgeable as he huddled beneath the balcony heaters. He was hidden from view, having stepped away from the glass doors to where the railings extended to the concrete wall.

The Mayor's Annual Christmas Ball was in full swing behind him. Or, as Stella had taken to calling it, 'The Mayor's Annual C4 Ball'; Christmas, Charity, Campaign and Champagne. And oh were there explosions if you didn't attend.

Mac had managed to meander his way through the crowd, shaking the hands, telling the tales, extolling the virtues of their admirable and gracious host; finally making it to the other side of the room and out to the balcony before he said something he shouldn't have. Politics just really weren't his thing, but the Mayor had seen him and had taken a photograph with him, so his job was done. He just had to ride it out now (and hope for an emergency call out from the team).

A chilled breeze whipped around him, a bird allowing itself to be carried on the breeze. It swooped down around him, its trajectory aiming for the East River and taking the scenic route as it dipped and swirled with the wind, soaring past the buildings.

Mac sipped at the whisky in his hand; trying to make the drink last so he didn't need to venture back into the party for another. It warmed him from within, the sensation spreading as he heaved a heavy sigh and looked out to his city.

"There you are!" A voice announced, annoyance and amusement mixing in the tone. "A little heads up would have been nice."

He looked over his shoulder with a smirk tilting his lips. Stella's hands were on her hips, before she quickly stepped behind him and tucked herself away in the far corner.

"I have been dodging the guy from the British Consulate all night - He introduced himself as 'Naughty Nigel', Mac. Whilst underneath the mistletoe." She gave him a pointed stare. "He said he liked my 'um...dress'…" the way her eyes fell to her neckline told Mac exactly what Naughty Nigel had liked about the dress...

He turned so his back leant against the railing, trying in vain to hide the grin that was forming.

"I managed to get away, but he said I 'owed' him a Christmas kiss. I swear to God, if I wasn't on my best behaviour tonight he would have had a 'Special Relationship' with my foot..." She crossed her arms around her chest, before a curl escaped its pin and bounced around her face. An arm came swinging out as she pointed at him again, "And he keeps calling me Susan!"

Mac had to laugh at that, the grin he had been fighting spreading in full force.

The arm folded back over her chest, her shoulders hunching as the thin silk fabric of her dress provided little warmth against the winter wind.

Mac switched his drink between his hands as he shrugged himself out of his blazer jacket, helping Stella to thread her arms through the sleeves. "Thanks," she smiled, her annoyance dissipating as she enveloped herself in his warmth. "A girl could get used to this sight, y'know..." She gestured over to him, her fingers barely visible under the long sleeves.

He was leaning against the railing on one elbow with the whisky in hand, his other hand buried in his trouser pocket. His top shirt button was open and bowtie loose on either side of the collar; the tuxedo finished exquisitely by the cummerbund and shiny black patent shoes. As happy as she was at the polished and perfect look at the beginning of the evening, the ruffled James Bond look he was sporting now was much more appealing...

He gave a chuckle, but a blush coloured his cheeks before he could think of a suitable retort.

Her eyes were sparkling with mischief again as she gave him an appreciative look up and down, securing the sight to her memory as he sipped at the whisky.

She gave a jump when she heard the door open, the music get louder and a new voice ask the night air, "Susan?"

Her eyes grew wide in fear and annoyance that 'Naughty Nigel' had found her again, but they were positively bulging when she suddenly saw Mac step forwards and fastened his lips to hers.

His lips. On hers.

She was swiftly encircled in his arms, her fingers spreading across his back as her mind finally caught up with the fact that she was kissing him back as fiercely as he was her. He was pulling her into him, keeping her flush against his body as his hand gently cupped her cheek.

The sound of Nigel's 'Harrumph' barely registered to her ears, nor did the sound of the door closing again behind him.

Mac pulled away, keeping her as close to him as possible.

She cleared her throat, her lips tingling, "What, er, what happened to keeping us low-key?"

"We still are," he said, his voice hoarse and devastatingly sexy.

"Mac, making out at the Mayor's Christmas Ball is hardly low-key."

He smirked and she felt her stomach flip, "I kissed someone called Susan… I don't about you…"

She laughed, her lips pursed, "So you effectively just cheated on me?"

He gave a chuckle as his hand on her cheek pulled her back into him. "Yeah, with you."

"We'll discuss how messed up that is later," she smirked, touching her lips to his again.