Hey, thanks for all the messages. Here the next chapter: Sorry for any typos, my spellcheckers not working and also i'm not sure if they would actually go to a "Clinic" but for the purpose of my fic, they do. Hope you enjoy----
Chapter two...
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Mac held the door open, as always, because he was a gentleman. She took a deep breath and walked in, doing her best not to look anxious. It was a small room; the decorators obviously tried their best to make it look ‘homey’, hence the couches. The few people there looked up briefly from their reading material.
They walked up to the desk where the lady behind it greeted them with a sympathetic smile. Between them his hand touched hers for a second. An offer of ressurance, a signal of support. He had no idea what Stella was going through, but it wasn’t good, and that’s what hurt him.
“I’m Stella Bonasera. My results - ”
“Of course, just take a seat. Dr. Lewis will see you soon.” The lady cut her off. He was thankful for that. Stella’s voice had changed. It was less confident, less Stella. Whenever he heard it, he winced inside.
“Thanks.” Mac smiled and lead Stella over to the couch. It was leather and covered in those pillows that have no specific purpose. Stella hated those, he knew.
“Sit.”
Her eyes followed him as he went to the watercooler to get her a cup of water. She didn’t ask, and she wondered how he knew. Stupid question, of course he knew. He’s Mac Taylor, her Mac Taylor. When he came back and gave her the plastic cup, she noticed the fading tanline on his ring finger.
“I need to make a call” he said almost apologetically. She didn’t understand that, but then, she didn’t understand a lot of things these days.
He walked to the other corner of the room, looking over his shoulder. He felt guilty, leaving her for even a minute. As is she was a snowflake, and would melt if he wasn’t there. He glanced around the room as he spoke on his cellphone. One wall was covered in posters: How To Live With HIV, What To Eat, How To Tell Your Loved Ones… He was glad that she trusted him with this, even if it wasn’t straight away. Sure, she was obligated to tell him because he was her boss, but he liked to think that she told him because he was her friend. He reminded her of that when he hugged her tightly.
The other wall was full of paintings, as if to balance out the Poster Wall. Paintings of boats, and little houses with white picket fences. Nothing you could fine in Manhattan. Stella picked up a magazine without even looking at the cover. At least she wouldn’t be staring at him. She tried to focus on the articles, but somehow getting a great summer wardrobe didn’t rank very highly with her. She felt his his eyes as they kept coming back to her, and she liked that feeling. The feeling of him checking up on her, making sure she was still there, making sure she was still okay.
He surprised her when he came back, but she got over it and put the magazine down, relieved. He knew it was unlikey that Stella had caught the virus, she knew that too. But she didn’t need to hear what the chances were. Even if he said it was one in one million, Stella would hear the one.
He sat beside her, but said nothing. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure what he could say, or do to make her feel better.
“Mac, I’m glad you came”, she said eventually said, and smiled.
“It’s what we do. We take care of eachother.”
That made her laugh, and he felt a little better.
“That sounds familiar.”
It made her feel special that he remembered those words. It definitely made her feel better. She noticed he held his breath after he spoke and decided that he was worried about what he would say. She wanted to hug him for it, and tell him that him just being there was enough.
