Title: The Boys Club
Author: Ditzy D.
Disclaimer: I have nothing to do with Stingers, its cast or crew or 
any other person
involved with the show.

WARNING: This fic deals with some very serious issues and there is no 
way in the world I
would wish them on anyone, even the characters experiencing them.  
People may be
offended by what is written, so please read with discretion and stop 
if it gets too much.
I cannot afford to be sued for mental and emotional stress. (:p)

Authors Note: This fic is based on a true event, and what happened 
after it.
Circumstances and situations though have been altered slightly to fit 
into the story-line.

The Boys Club

Mac looked at her reflection in the mirror; examining the outfit she 
was wearing for what
seemed to be the umpteenth time that morning.  She sighed aloud, 
taking a deep breath to
relax her nerves and to settle her butterfly stomach.  She ran her 
hand gently through her
hair before taking one last glance and turning away from her full-
length reflection -
heading downstairs towards the front door.
Today was her first day.  Her first day of something new, her first 
day at something
different.  It wasn't that, that unnerved her though; it was the 
history that came with the
position.  It was Bill's.  His office, his chair, his.  When she 
first applied for the position,
she didn't know if she would be able to settle knowing that it was 
Bill's - remembering
what they had done.  But she couldn't think of it that way anymore, 
not after Harry had
tainted it with his presence.  The thought of him made her pause in 
her movement
towards her bag and keys.  The hell he had put her through, the pain 
and vulnerability of
not knowing what had happened to her.  It was all still there, not as 
deeply buried as she
hoped it would be.  The anguish of the investigation against her, and 
the betrayal by
people she thought meant something to her - that she meant something 
to them.  Mac
shook her head, and once again regained her composure collecting her 
bag and keys
before shutting the door behind her, making sure it locked in place.
*~*~*
The drive to headquarters went in slow motion.  She went through the 
motions of driving
without even registering what she was doing.  She had decided to re-
apply for the
position of Head of Homicide after Harry Love's downfall, and she 
still didn't know
whether she was accepted because she had made an impression on the 
panel, or they felt
indebted to give it to her for the injustices she had suffered.  A 
way to rid them of any
guilt they were feeling over the situation.  
The unit had taken it fairly well - in her presence anyway.  They had 
added encouraging
words and offered smiles and congratulations.  But in the end it 
didn't matter how much
she tried to ignore it, she knew how they really felt.  She spent 
much of her time
convincing them that they will see each other - hell she was only 
working in HQ - but
they all knew that work would always catch up with them, and that 
sooner or later, after
one to many 'something's come up, can we do this another time...' the 
bond would be
broken.  All that time convincing them, and all she was doing was 
trying to convince
herself.
*~*~*
Mac stepped into the lift, pressing the floor number she wanted.  She 
stood up straight
and adjusted her jacket so that it sat comfortably.  The floors 
progressed by slowly, and
she looked upwards at the ceiling of the enclosed space, calming 
herself.  She knew it
wouldn't be easy, but she always had enjoyed a challenge.  It was the 
fact that she felt she
had no support was what scared her.  The Commissioner had approved of 
her application
and of her acceptance of the position, but she didn't feel she had 
his support - not like she
had had before.  The words of one of the panel members always hung 
with her 'Homicide
is a predominately male domain...'  Were they going to accept her?  
Her authority?  She
was a female authority figure walking into a 'predominately male 
domain' to quote that
jackass on the panel.  It was going to take awhile for them to get 
used to her.
She exhaled as the lift reached its destination, and pushing all 
insecurities to the furthest
regions of her mind she stepped confidently out the opening doors.
It wasn't going to be easy.  Homicide was a tight knot group - a boys 
club.