csi_fiction | Forgiven (3/7)

Title: Forgiven (3/7)
Rating: FRT
Pairing: Mac Taylor/Michelle Dessler (crossover with 24)
Summary: This will be a story in seven parts. The prompt for this part was "Sensual." Prompt ideas were taken from

7_crossovers
A/N: I don't own them, sadly.

Michelle tried not to fidget as she stood outside Mac's office. She reminded herself that this was nothing, that she was just being friendly. Straightening her top, she raised a trembling hand and knocked.

"Come in."

When she opened the door, she saw Mac Taylor sitting behind his desk. His tie had been removed, and the top couple of buttons on his blue shirt were undone. Trying to look casual, Michelle leaned against the doorframe and smiled.

"Don’t you ever take a lunch break?" she asked.

He looked up at her and returned the smile. "Once in a while."

Michelle pushed herself off of the door, crossing the room and taking a seat across from him. "Well, today is one of those times."

He watched her curiously as she held up a lunch bag. Reaching in, she pulled out a large sandwich and broke it in half. She gave him a nervous half-smile as she handed him one piece. Then she pulled out a bag of chips and two bottles of water. Mac couldn't help but smile.

"This is very nice, Michelle."

She shrugged. "Everybody needs to eat." She gestured at the sandwich in his hands. "I hope you like chicken salad."

"I do."

They ate in companionable silence. Michelle tried to think of something to say, some way to strike up a conversation. But as the silence continued, she realized that things were comfortable as they were, and that, for the moment, nothing needed to be said.

She wanted to curse when the phone on his desk suddenly rang. Mac sighed, and his shoulders slumped a little, as though he was just as frustrated at the interruption as she was. The phone began its third ring, and he reached out to pick it up.

"Taylor."

Michelle tried her best not to eavesdrop – not that there was really that much for her to overhear. The conversation seemed to be mostly one-sided as Mac repeated a series of "Yes, sirs" and "I understand, sirs." The call lasted three minutes at the most, and Mac somehow looked even more tired than usual when he hung up.

"You okay?" Michelle asked.

He sighed. "That was the captain…I'm sure you've gotten your invitation to the Commissioner's Ball next week?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yes."

"I take it you're about as excited about it as I am, then."

"I haven't enjoyed social gatherings since…since Tony died." Just the mention of his name caused waves of pain to shoot through her, and she closed her eyes.

"I'm sorry," Mac said quietly.

Opening her eyes once again, Michelle gave him a smile and shook her head. "It's fine. I brought it up." She nodded to the phone. "So what did the captain want?"

"He called to remind me that my presence is required. And then informed me that I'm not allowed to show up alone and brooding."

Michelle raised her eyebrows. "Alone and brooding?"

"His words, not mine." He sighed again.

"It's exhausting, isn't it?" she asked. "The whole idea of having to find someone you can stand to spend an evening with?"

Mac glanced at her, a rueful smile on his face. "I see I'm not the only one who doesn't relish the thought."

She bit her lip, thinking. There was every chance that he would turn her down, or that he already had someone else in mind, but…

"Why don't we go together?" When his head snapped up to look at her in surprise, Michelle blushed. "I mean…there's no pressure that way. The captain gets off your back, and I don't have to worry about going alone and looking like a wallflower all night –"

"I'd love to."

Both were caught off-guard by the eagerness in his voice. Ducking her head, Michelle tried to hide the blush that continued to grow.

"Really?"

Mac nodded. "Really."

She opened her mouth to say something else, but both their cell phones went off. Smiling, he finished his half of the sandwich before standing up and grabbing his jacket as Michelle did the same.

"Thanks for lunch," he said quietly as they moved out into the corridor.

Michelle was starting to run out of curses for the blushing.

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"Michelle!"

She turned to see Stella coming up behind her in the hallway. Giving her a small smile, she waited for the other detective to catch up.

"Hey Stella," she greeted. "What's up?"

"I wanted to ask a favor of you."

"Okay."

"I heard you and Mac are going to the Commissioner's Ball together." Stella saw the look of fear that flashed through her coworker's eyes, and she rushed to finish her thought. "I was hoping maybe you and I could go dress shopping this weekend? I've got absolutely nothing to wear."

Michelle breathed a little sigh of relief. She knew that Stella and Mac were close friends, and a part of her worried what the other woman thought of her. Giving her a smile, she nodded.

"I'd love to. I can't tell you the last time I had to buy a dress…in fact, I'm kind of dreading it."

Stella laid a hand on her arm. "Don’t worry – I know all the best stores in town…and where they're having the best sales. It won't be nearly as painful as you think."

"Sounds good." The two of them walked on a little further before Michelle gave the other woman a sly side-glance. "So who are you going with?"

Stella tried to stop the glowing smile that threatened to break out, but she was unsuccessful. Instead she just rolled her eyes and chuckled. "Flack asked me."

Michelle grinned. "From what I hear, that's been a long time coming."

"Remind me to kill Mac later."

She shrugged. "You two are good together, Stella. And I'm glad you're happy – you deserve it."

Stella blushed. "Thank you. I have to get back to work, but…Saturday? I'll come by your apartment and we'll find dresses?"

"Absolutely."

She nodded. "Good." With a small wave, Stella turned and walked back towards the lab.

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"It's pink," Michelle objected.

"It's fuchsia, and it's hot."

"I don't do pink."

"Trust me, Michelle. It's hot."

The detective turned around, looking at herself in the mirror. The dress was very pink, but it was dark, and she had to admit that the color made her skin glow. Thick straps formed a halter around her neck, and the fabric hugged every curve that she had. Michelle hated to admit it, but Stella was right…the dress was hot. But she still had one nagging doubt.

"Do you think…"

Stella nodded. "Mac's jaw will hit the floor when he sees you."

Michelle looked down, embarrassed that Stella could read her so well. The other detective reached out to lay her hand on her arm.

"It's okay, Michelle. It's not wrong to have feelings for him."

She shook her head. "I don't –"

"You do," Stella insisted gently. "And it's okay. Truth be told…I think he feels the same way."

"I don't think I'm ready," Michelle whispered.

"You don't have to be," she assured her. "But at that ball, you are going to knock his socks off, and you are going to have a good time. Do you understand me?"

Michelle smiled and nodded. "Yeah. I got it." She paused. "Thanks, Stell."

"Anytime. Now come on…I need a dress, too."

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Mac found that he couldn't breathe. For the first time in years, he found himself caught completely off-guard, and he couldn't stop staring. The rest of the world fell away, leaving him feeling as though he were the only man in the room.

The original plan had been to pick Michelle up at her apartment and arrive at the Commissioner's Ball together. Work, however, had different plans, and an urgent case had come up at the last minute. Apologizing profusely, he promised that he would meet her at the Ball shortly.

It wasn't until he arrived that he realized they hadn't set down where exactly they were going to meet inside. He wasn't sure that she had her cell phone on her, and he didn't know if she would have found them a table or if she would be mingling.

Despite that, he had found her – and now he couldn't take his eyes off of her. She was standing at the top of the center stairway, laughing and talking with Stella and Flack. He didn't get to see her smile often, and he found himself smiling in return, even though she hadn't noticed him yet.

On any other woman, he might have found the color of the dress to be unusual, but on her…it took his breath away. It hugged her every curve, and Mac found his eyes traveling the length of her body before he could stop himself. Her skin glowed, and thin tendrils of hair escaped from her bun to trail down along the graceful slope of her shoulders.

It had been a long time since Mac had been so physically taken away by a woman, and he wasn't quite sure how to deal with it. He knew that the attraction went deeper, perhaps even much deeper, but he also knew that now wasn't the time to take that step.

Before his thoughts could go any further, Michelle turned and saw him. Somehow her smile grew even brighter, and Mac's chest constricted. He silently reminded himself that this was not a date, and that he was most certainly not courting Detective Dessler. But as she swept down the stairs toward him, his mind almost completely shut down on him.

"Hi," she said shyly.

"Hi…you look…amazing."

She flushed. "Thanks. You don't look so shabby yourself."

It was then that Mac caught a hint of her perfume. The smell intoxicated him, and it was the only reason he could come up with for his next question.

"Would you like to dance?"

"I would love to."

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Michelle was scared to death – there really wasn't any other way to put it. As Mac led her out onto the dance floor and turned to wrap and arm around her waist, she was afraid that she would actually turn and run. But at the touch of his hand on the small of her back, and the feel of his other hand in hers, she knew that she wasn't going anywhere.

She kept telling herself that this couldn’t happen, but at the same time, she knew she was falling. It left the same exhilarating feeling in the pit of her stomach as it had when she and Tony had first started flirting. Her heart hurt at the comparison, and she wasn't quite sure if it was grief or guilt, or maybe a mixture of the two. All she knew was that this thing with Mac was something…something she had never expected to feel ever again.

As they began to move to the music, Mac pulled her even closer, until there was barely any space between their bodies. Michelle wanted to be closer – cursed herself, in fact, for the desire – but she restrained herself from resting her head on his shoulder. Instead, she positioned herself so that they were dancing almost cheek to cheek, both able to feel the heat of the other's skin.

It was then that she realized he was wearing cologne. It was faint, just enough to make her want to inch ever closer, to bury her face in the crook of his neck so that she could just breathe him in. She closed her eyes, resisting those urges, but also continuing to enjoy the closeness of his body.

The song was over before she even realized that there was music playing, and it was time for them to separate. Even as they did so, however, Mac left his hand in the curve of her back, so that he could guide her over to the table where Flack, Stella, Danny, Lindsay and Hawkes were all sitting. Michelle tried to regain control of herself, pulling her mind out of the fog that had enveloped her during the dance. Smiling, she sat down with the others, enjoying the distraction from what had just happened out on the floor.

This was definitely something more.

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The rest of the evening passed by in a blur of talking, laughing, eating and dancing. For the first time in a long time, Michelle felt as though she was finally accepted again, finally a part of something. She and Stella and Lindsay got along well, talking about the guys and joking about everything under the sun. She could toss barbs back and forth with Danny and Flack without any hesitation, and she and Hawkes could talk about anything ranging from art and music to the latest discoveries in medicine. She had almost forgotten what it was like to have friends.

As the night came to a close, Mac came up behind her, holding her jacket. Giving him a grateful smile, he helped her slip it on, and then led her outside.

"Thank you for coming with me," he said quietly. "I didn't think it was possible to enjoy myself at one of these functions."

"I had a good time, too."

"Can I take you home?"

The question caught Michelle completely off-guard. She opened her mouth to say something – anything – but nothing came out. Before the moment could get awkward, though, Mac's cell phone rang. He sighed, his smile slipping.

"Taylor…yeah…are you sure?...Alright, I'll be right there." Closing the phone, he looked up at Michelle apologetically. "I'm sorry. There's been a break in the case…I have to get back to the lab right away."

She gave him a small smile, resting a hand on his arm. "It's okay, Mac. Go."

He raised a hand, hailing her a cab. As the yellow taxi pulled up beside them, shrugged. "The least I can do is hail you a cab."

Michelle wasn't sure what came over her, but she found herself stepping forward and placing a gentle kiss on his cheek.

"Thank you, Mac. I needed this."

She could have sworn he blushed. "It was my pleasure."

Nodding, she turned and opened the cab door. She looked back at him, wanting to say something else, wanting to somehow put into words what she was feeling. Instead, she reached out, resting her hand against his cheek.

"Goodnight, Mac."

"Goodnight, Michelle," he murmured, watching as she shut the door and the cab disappeared into the night.