Author's Note: Ok, so here is a story I've been thinking about doing for a little. I know, it's another story I need to finish, but I at least need the starting idea down so I won't forget later and I'll juggle this one just like the others. I know I also owe you all a lot of new chapters on the other stories, so I do hope to get around to them as well. So, I hope you like this idea of a different type of trouble for our friends at CSI: NY. As you know, it's always gotta be trouble, as I seem to have problems with putting the characters back on the shelves exactly as I found them…

"What the hell was that?" Don asked as he leaned back in the chair. Mac sat across from him and the scene around them was a somewhat noisy one. They were at a local bar on a Friday night, taking some much needed time for a few drinks and a friendly chat.

"What the hell was what, Don?" Mac asked as he also leaned back, staring at Don with raised eyebrows and this somewhat funny looking smile. As Don laughed at him, Mac's smile widened and he took another drink from the bottle in front of him before setting it back down on the table.

"C'mon, Mac, don't play like you don't know exactly what I'm talking about!" Don exclaimed, pointing a finger accusingly at Mac.

Mac finally laughed. "You have got to let that go!" he said, clapping his hands together and smiling over at his partner.

"Oh…oh…that's how you want to play?" Don asked, leaning back in his seat again as he'd sat forward when he pointed a finger at Mac. "Go to hell then, Mac! Go to hell!"

Mac was still laughing as he held a hand to his head, amused by his partner's exclamations. "Should I go now or should I wait five years?" he asked teasingly.

Don stared at his boss with a look of mock shock on his face. "Whenever you so choose, you jackass!" he replied, his face cracking in to a wide smile as he tossed a balled up napkin at the older detective.

Mac smirked and watched as Don took a drink from his own bottle. "Ok, how in the fucking world did you convince me to do this again?" he asked.

Don shrugged and Mac picked up his bottle again. "I don't know, but it looks like one of us will have to stop drinking soon. Someone's gotta drive your ass home!" he said with a smirk.

Mac smirked and he eyed Don. "And who would be driving this Marine's sorry ass home tonight?" he asked, smiling.

Don shrugged and finished off the last little bit of alcohol in the bottle before setting it on the table between the two of them. "Me if you order another round, dumbass!" he said, sounding like the answer was totally obvious.

"Who would take your car?" Mac challenged, a stubborn smile crossing his features.

"I'd walk back here and get it," Don said with a confident nod as he leaned back comfortably in the seat, hands behind his head and smiling over at his partner.

Mac smirked and finished off his own bottle. "I don't think so. We'd both be unable to walk in a straight line by the time I'd let you drive me home after you did this," he said.

Don's eyebrows shot up and he stared at Mac, once again with mock shock on his face. "Is that a threat, Mac?" he asked, a small smile still on his face.

Mac smirked and leaned forward a little, resting his hands on the table, "Maybe it is and maybe it isn't," he said.

"Oooohhhh, cop gone bad. That's a title you know the media'll get a kick out of putting on their front page!"

"Don!" Mac said, waving a hand at his partner as he leaned back in his seat. "Please! Don't remind me!"

"Ohhhhhh…" Don said, realization showing on his face and his smile disappearing. "Right, sorry buddy."

Mac shrugged and waved a hand at him again. "Don't sweat it; it's over and behind us. I just don't want to have to think about it again,"

"Detective Mac Taylor? Don Flack?" Both detectives looked up at the sound of their names.

"Can I help you, sir?" Mac asked, looking at the man that now stood at him and Don's table curiously.

"I need you to come with us. It's important," the man said, stepping back to let both of them get up.

Mac and Don exchanged a glance of confusion, but they both stood and followed the man out. He led them over to a black SUV parked across the road from the bar.

"What's this all about?" Mac asked as his gaze traveled over the three men before him.

The man that had led them out of the bar took in a deep breath. "I hate to rain on anyone's parade, but…you're being placed under arrest," he said, pulling back his jacket just far enough to reveal a badge.

"Wait…what?" Don exclaimed as the two men that had been standing with the man that led them out of the bar stepped forward, each of them grabbing one of the hands of the two shocked detectives.

"What the hell is this about?" Mac demanded as one of the men cuffed his hands behind his back.

"It's about murder, Detective Taylor. I understand you're quite familiar with."

Mac stared at him incomprehensively. "Murder?" he asked.

"In the first degree."

Don and Mac exchanged another glance. "What's that got to do with us?" Don asked, finally looking back at the man that led them out of the bar.

The man sighed and frowned a little. "We'll talk about it in the car, unless you'd like me to add resisting arrest to your current list of charges, detectives?"

"Whoa, wait! You're charging us with murder?" Mac asked, eyes wide as he stared in absolute shock at the man standing before him. He could not believe his ears on this one.

The man nodded. "Yes. Do I need to add resisting arrest, Detective Taylor?" he asked impatiently.

Mac glared at him, Don reading his tense posture and pretty much clenched jaw very clearly. Mac was pissed! He could just see this was going to be a very, very, very long night.

"No," Mac replied flatly. There was about a million different other things he could think of to say right now but he figured it best to keep his mouth shut. He still just couldn't quite grasp the idea of what was going on. Murder? They're arresting us for murder?

Talk about a punch in the face and a stab in the back.