Black Monday 1

[bedlamsbard]

Yeah, I bet you guys thought this would never come. *grin* Black Monday takes place in late July, between New York Minute and Omerta, and actually doesn't deal with Danny's Problems at all. No, we have Mac's Issues instead. It'll probably be a lot shorter than most of my other stuff, since there's no case and it's basically a "what if?" scenario. Stella's been out of her wheelchair maybe two weeks by this point. Maybe more, maybe less. And she's very happy about that.



"Mac, I cannot believe you!" Stella said, darting up from where she'd been sitting on the steps of his office. "I - you - argh!"

Mac caught her wrist as she tried to shove the envelope she was holding into his face. "Stella, what -" He frowned at the return address. "Were you going through my trash?"

"The ICSIA, Mac!"

"Srella, I can't believe you." He pulled the envelope out of her hand as he pushed open the door of his office.

Stella followed him, breathing quick and shallow and only limping a little. "The ICSIA, Mac! The International Crime Scene Investigators Association, and they're asking you to come speak at their next convention. Are you crazy or just insane?"

"They can find someone else to speak," Mac said, tidying the case files on his desk. "There are hardly a lack of volunteers waiting for just this chance."

She made a frustrated sound. "Not to talk about the NYPD there aren't!"

He offered her the envelope. "Well, would you like to take the ICSIA up on their offer?"

"If you haven't noticed, it's addressed to you." She pulled the monogrammed letter out of the envelope and tapped the Dear Detective Lieutenant Taylor heading. "And I don't think I look like a Mac Taylor, or a detective lieutenant either. What's the real reason you don't want to go?"

"CSU -"

"- has a light caseload right now. We can take care of ourselves for a couple days. And it's not like you don't have the leave time, you've never taken a day off in all the years I've known you." Not even after September 11, she almost added, but bit her tongue on the words.

Mac sighed, began going through his mail. "The convention's being held in Chicago, Stella," he said quietly.

Stella's face changed slightly. "Oh," she said, and dropped into the chair in front of his desk. "Come on, Mac, live a little. Nobody has to know you're there. And -" She made a not-entirely-wild guess "-you dont' ahve to go see your parents."

Mac sat down heavily behind his desk. "I swear, sometimes you read my mind, Stella," he said. "Am I that obvious?"

"Just a little. But seriously, Mac, I think it'd be a good idea for you to take some time off, get out of the city for a little while." She leaned forward earnestly. "You know?"

Mac reached over and plucked the letter from her hand. "You noticed, I assume, that the invitation's for more than one person?"

"Yeah, but I assumed you were going to bring Hawkes or Aiden or - I dunno, Danny or Flack."

He pointed the letter at her, crisp cream sheets of stationary sliding between his fingers. "If I'm going," he said, "and I'm not saying I am, then you are most certainly coming too."

"What?" Stella grinned. "Afraid of the big bad CSIs from Vegas and LA? Or of running into the freak from Miami again?"

Mac shook his head. "I really have no idea why my entire lab is against Lieutenant Caine -"

"Because he's a freak from down South who never took off his sunglasses and an elitist bastard. Plus, he was totally hitting on Danny. And he walked straight into a closed crime scene. So much for NYPD security."

Mac blinked. "He was hitting on Danny?"

Stella reached over his desk to pick up the tox results in his in-box. "You might not remember. I think you were drugged up."



*ahem* I never did have a high view of Horatio Caine, and it's going lower and lower as I watch the show. Drama queen.