A/N Even though the title is as it is, this fic is actually a melting pot of a bunch of plot bunnies I'd been getting. I can't reveal all at the present because I haven't written it yet. Lol! But this will eventually be (what else?) MacDanny, of course. It takes place over a few eps and starts with Grand Master. Characters belong to CSI:NY and rating is T for language. Oh and I should warn you; there's a lot of angst regarding Claire.

Hot breath at his neck and a reaching, clumsy grasp at his waist brought Danny Messer back to the present, after having been trying to drunkenly assess how he could have gotten into this situation.

The situation being that his boss, Mac Taylor, was the one haggardly panting at his side, trying to remain standing by hanging onto Danny. For he was much worse off than Danny was, in terms of drunkenness.

Danny tried not to laugh at the absurdity of it all: the fact that Mac got drunker than he did, the state of confusion when it came to ordering a cab and weaseling directions out of Mac, and now the sleepy trudge to Mac's place.

During which, Danny had been trying to remember how it came to be. He recalled the day at work easily: he had just finished the Deborah Gale case with Stella and called it a day. But then, he also remembered the slightly nerve-wracking start to the whole fiasco.

Danny's blue eyes darted towards the glass windows of Mac's office, and he vaguely wondered if Mac had left, acknowledging the fact he was finished his case with Aiden. Judging by the light and the moving shadows against the wall, he determined he hadn't left. He quickly changed direction, heading towards his object of inquiry, for reasons he had only the vaguest notion.

His fist tapped out a gentle knock against the pane, and a smile danced on his face. "Hey, Mac."

For a brief moment, Mac looked like a deer in the headlights, eyebrows poised in a startled confusion. But it vanished and was instantly replaced with a calculated smile, one that Danny could instantly tell was practiced to be deliberately polite. "Danny. What can I do for you?"

"Ah, right to the point, I see." A point that he felt unnerved about, for he wasn't even sure what he wanted that "point" to be, as of yet. The words quickly tumbled out of his mouth, before he had a chance to consciously handle and package them before shipping. "I'm not tired yet, and I wanted to know if you wanted to go have a beer with me."

Danny sharply inhaled, regretting how eager he had seemed. But Mac didn't seem to notice it, increasing the breadth of his smile and looking down at his desk. "Sullivan's?"

The blonde fished for a response and found one, to his amazement. "Nah, I'm kinda bored with the scenery. I was gonna head somewhere new."

Mac gave him an apologetic stare. "I dunno, Danny. I'm a creature of habit. I actually just got used to Sullivan's…" He had looked downwards at his desk once again, ruefully noting how little work he had left. He knew he was making excuses. Looking back up, his thoughts were disquieted by a disappointed look from Danny, directed towards the floor. Mac knew Danny didn't even realize he was looking. He bit his lip and found strength to remove that disappointment. "But… maybe tonight I can make an exception."

Danny couldn't help but smile brightly, even if he knew he appeared too ambitious and attention-hungry. Perhaps he was; he didn't know anymore. "You're gonna love it, Mac. Aiden's been raving about this place for weeks and practically begging me to go with her at least once."

As they collected their belongings and left the office, both chatted reservedly, and Danny had no idea that Mac was growing increasingly curious as to why Danny didn't go with Aiden, choosing instead to ask him to be the one to test the waters.

A question Danny was asking himself as he tried to haul himself and Mac up the stairs to the apartment building. Not what I had in mind when I asked him to go with me. Oh well… He managed to pull him through the door and towards the elevator.

As they waited for the elevator, Mac leaned heavily into Danny, so much that Danny could smell the alcohol, as well as the sweat. He inhaled slowly, smelling something else. Mac. He was smelling Mac. Danny felt a blush creep onto his cheeks. Fuck. This was unexpected… He tapped his foot anxiously and prayed to God Mac wouldn't notice that he was looking increasingly unsettled.

Mac mumbled something in his ear, purring an apology. Danny chuckled nervously. "Don't be sorry, Mac. It's alright; I don't mind."

The doors dinged open, so Mac tried to stand upright, his pride attempting to salvage some shred of dignity. He ultimately failed and tripped back into Danny's arms. "I'm a cheap date, huh? It didn't take much to…" He yawned widely. "To make me like this."

They managed to get into the elevator, and Danny was able to prop Mac against the wall. The blush returned when he heard Mac say "date." He was sure that he hadn't meant it as such and that it was probably the result of the few beers he had drunk, but it had the same effect as it would have if Mac were sober. Danny felt ashamed for thinking that way about… about Mac, of all people.

Mac frowned at him. "Hey, am I doing something wrong here? Cuz you're ignoring me. You can tell me if you're mad at me, you know." Danny ascertained at this point that Mac was a sullen drunk, one that found ways to place blame upon themselves.

But before he could analyze it any further, he consoled Mac. "No, I'm not mad at all, honest! You did nothing wrong, alright?" Danny rubbed Mac's arm warmly, hoping he would get the hint that he really wasn't upset.

Mac nodded quietly and stared at the floor, so Danny returned to his earlier thoughts. He assumed that it was Mac's own personality that created this form of himself, his unconscious allowing full play and therefore showing the full blown self-depreciation and social uncertainty. But he was proud of Mac, for his intolerance of alcohol made Danny assume that he wasn't a regular drinker and most likely didn't drink when Claire died. Perhaps, he did for a little bit, but Danny couldn't be sure.

But he was sure that Mac was almost sinking to the floor, so he rushed over and helped him stand, just as they reached his floor. Mac sighed and allowed himself to be helped to his door. Danny knew the apartment number from his earlier interrogation and meandered towards his goal. Suddenly, he lighted upon a possible problem. "Hey, Mac. You still got your keys, right? Didn't leave them at the bar or anything?"

"Noooo. No, I got 'em in my pocket." He nodded assuredly but made no move to fish them out himself.

Danny blushed for a brief moment and croaked, "Pants or jacket?" He looked at the former for a second, but his eyes snapped back to Mac in embarrassment.

But Mac didn't notice. He had started to pat his jacket down. "Oh, oh dear… They were supposed to be in here…" He looked helplessly at Danny.

Blue eyes widened. "Oh shit, you gotta be kidding me… Here, lemmee look." He took a step towards Mac and tentatively reached inside the jacket. He didn't hear Mac's sharp intake of breath, as he was focused upon finding the keys. And, upon the fact he was touching Mac in a way he never thought he would. Danny wondered briefly, if he was touching Mac in a way he secretly wanted to.

Finally, cool metal met his warmed fingers. "Got the bastards." He brandished them with a flourish and unlocked the apartment. "There we go. Come on, Mac."

He gripped at Mac's arm and pulled him into the doorway. His eyes bathed in the new, uncharted world, but a tug at his arm as a result from a near fall reminded him that now was not the time to gawk. Mac sighed loudly and pointed around. "Welcome to my place. Not much, but it's an okay place for sleeping."

Danny noticed that he didn't not say the normal cliché: "It's not much, but it's home." He sadly attributed this to the fact it was absent of the one person who had meant more than anything to the man attempting to detach himself from his grasp.

Mac attempted to stand and walk to the kitchen, but he soon stumbled onto the couch. Danny fearfully ran to him, but Mac batted him away. "No, I got it… It's bad enough as it is. Sorry that I got you into this."

The young CSI bit his lip but couldn't force down his opposition. "It's not your fault, Mac. I was the one who asked you to the bar, remember?" He walked into the kitchen and looked around. "What were you going for, Mac?"

"Aspirin. I'm starting to get a headache… Cupboard by the fridge…" He sprawled out on the couch and covered his face with his hands. "I always hated myself when I was like this."

Danny paused as he reached for the pill bottle. "Like what, Mac?" He was aware that he might be pushing it, but this was the biggest headway he'd made in the three years of working under the man. He was curious, and something in the way Mac spat out his words sent chills up his spine.

Mac let out a deep sigh. "When I was drunk like this. Drunk enough to lose some inhibitions, but not enough to lose coherence. I would know exactly what was going on, but I wouldn't give a damn what happened to me."

The cupboard shut silently, and Danny feared to ask the question lingering in the air. But he stepped out of the kitchen and gave Mac a quick glance. He hesitated but finally decided to do it anyways. "When would this drinking happen?"

"No, you mean, 'When did this start?'" Mac gave him an exasperated stare and reached out for the pill bottle. Danny released it and shivered involuntarily when their fingers brushed together. Mac smiled bitterly at the bottle, as if it had some piece of evidence that was just out of reach. "I can tell you want to know, Danny, if this had something to do with Claire." He looked back up towards Danny and saw that his hypothesis was correct in the guilty way his employee held himself.

He opened the bottle and quickly ingested a few pills without a drink of water to go with it. A sigh. "It's okay, though. Maybe it's time I actually talk to someone other than a shrink about it."

"You mean you haven't even talked to Stell about it?" Shit. The question slipped out without warning, as if his brain was running on autopilot. Maybe it was, considering he'd had more than a few drinks.

"Nope… She tried once, but I guess she gave up after that." He sat up and stretched again. "Damn, I'm tired. You mind if I hit the sack?"

So close, and yet so far… Maybe he'll remember later and tell me. Or someone… "Yeah, go ahead. You need help to your room?" Danny prayed he didn't sound eager, and thankfully, he didn't, at least to himself.

Mac shook his head but yet again found himself tripping into Danny's arms. He laughed. "I just might, Danny." He paused and realized where he was. "I, uh, never thanked you for taking me with you to the bar, even if I ended up like this."

Danny's breath hitched, but he found his voice, which came out froggy and guarded. "D-don't worry 'bout it, Mac. I got your back, alright? Now let's get you into your room, okay?"

"Right…" Mac was silent for a spell and found the courage to say some of what he had purposefully left unspoken. "I… I did drink a few times after… after that day." He didn't need to clarify which, but he continued. "But I never let it develop into a habit."

"Yeah, otherwise I woulda noticed it." Shit… shit, shit SHIT. You stupid son of a bitch, you just made it obvious that you've been watching him. He bit his lip and hoped Mac wouldn't get the between the lines bit he had stupidly let flow from his tongue.

Mac frowned at the door, which was now in front of them. "Wait, it's been how long since I hired you?"

"Three years." Danny could have counted the days, as well, but he didn't want to come across as obsessed or something.

"Three years?" He held out his hand for the door handle and paused, evidently thinking. "That sounds about right." Mac his head to look at Danny. "Well… Thanks for 'having my back,' as you say… Why don't you come in for a sec?"

Danny chuckled and, following Mac, walked into one of the most private recesses of Mac's world. He looked around and took in the Marine uniform on the one wall and the bookcase on the other. He saw the neatly kempt bed and the pristine dresser, adorned with a few pictures of himself and the rest of the team. He tried to keep from leaving Mac's side to feed his touchy nature and go over everything with a fine-toothed comb, and fortunately, he kept his curiosity down.

He led Mac to his bed, at which Mac sank to in exhaustion. He looked around and eventually noticed that Danny's gaze was fixed on the uniform. "God, I loved wearing that thing… Sometimes, there are days I wish I was back, if just to wear it." Danny looked back at him for a second but then back to the uniform. Something about it was alluring to Danny, so he took a few steps until he was directly in front of it.

It was enigmatic, and yet it seemed to desire to tell Danny all the secrets of what it went through with its owner. And Danny wanted know more about said owner, so he spent time looking at each individual piece of it.

Mac was busy watching him, and even though his inhibitions were lowered, his attention to detail was not. A glint at Danny's neck kept catching his eye, so he waited until Danny turned a certain way. He inhaled slowly; there was no mistaking that it was a ball-and-chain necklace. Which possibly meant one thing.

"Hey, Danny?" He turned to face Mac, a little aloof because he was still focused upon the uniform. "You wouldn't happen to be wearing dog tags, would you?"

Danny looked down at his neck and reached in his shirt to pull them out. Mac smiled, glad to see his detective skills were still working. "Yeah, they were my grandfather's."

And for an instant, Mac was saddened because he had never figured out that Danny was wearing them. For three years, he had seen them poke out beneath Danny's shirts, but he had never made a connection. But he pushed that aside, as well as his fatigue. Now he was intrigued. "When did he give them to you?"

"When he died." The sentiment sounded bitter, and Danny looked down at them, toying with the chain with his fingers. He sighed softly and looked back at Mac. "He… he left them to me in his will, and that was the only thing I got from him. But no one in my family ever seemed to want to talk about his war service, no matter how much I asked."

"Well, whatever he did, I'm sure it was brave because to me, a person is brave for putting on the uniform and being willing to serve this country." He gave Danny a smile, one that was warm and unlike any other Danny had seen in a long time.

Danny felt his body tingle, but he just whispered, "Yeah, I guess. Thanks, Mac." He turned to look back at the uniform one last time and finally back at Mac. His voice was almost regretful when he spoke. "Well, I guess I need to be going. Is there anything else you need?"

"No, no. I'm good, but why don't you stay for the night? It's late, and I have extra blankets in the closet, as well as pillows. You can make quite a comfy bed from the couch. Believe me; I've done it a couple times." Mac was leaned forward now, and he looked poised, as if he were about to fly from the edge of the bed and get everything himself for Danny to stay over.

His subordinate could hear the almost command in his voice, but also a pleading quality that surprised him. Danny was even more surprised when he acquiesced. "Yeah, Mac. I'll stay. So if you need anything, I'll be out here, alright?"

"Yeah, Danny. Thanks for sticking with me… Good… Good night." He smiled again, and his eyes seemed to shine in the convoluted light.

"No problem, Mac. Good night." He walked to the door and closed it behind him with a sigh, leaving Mac to his thoughts and much needed sleep.

He stretched out his arms and looked around. The living room seemed nice enough, and if he were to imagine one for Mac, this would be it. It catered to his perfectionist issues that Danny was more than aware he had, as well as the need for practicality.

His eyes lighted upon the closet Mac was talking about, so Danny walked towards it. He opened it carefully and briefly remembered that cliché about skeletons in the closet and peered in. It was dark, so he fumbled about for a light. He switched it on and saw it was a relatively normal closet. Danny saw the blankets and pillows in there, just as Mac had described, and took a few to throw across the couch.

Danny was about to close the door when he saw something. There were colors poking out from a box on the top shelf, which was marked "C." Looking closer, he could assume that the colors were part of a beach ball. A beach ball? What does C stand for? He thought for a moment and nearly hit himself when he realized it. Claire. His heart seemed to slow in the sympathy he felt for Mac, assuming from the look of the apartment that it was the only thing he kept of hers.

He shook his head quickly and tried to shake away the negative thoughts. He made his bed quickly and found himself returning to the scene at the bar.

Danny had held the door open for Mac and watched his face for any signs of whether he approved or not. Mac never gave one and waited for Danny to choose where they sat. He swallowed nervously and walked over to a booth near the corner. "So what do you think?"

Mac looked around, taking in the fact it seemed like an everyday bar and lacked the distasteful things he had never lacked. "It's not bad. A little loud, but not bad."

A grin snaked across the younger man's features. "And in Mac speak, a 'not bad' is quite the compliment." Danny laughed softly and prayed that Mac could still take a joke.

A laugh in response reassured him that Mac was still capable of laughing. Still, Danny was pleasantly surprised at the turn of events, basking in the afterglow of his intoxicating laughter. "Yeah, I guess it does. Thanks for inviting me, Danny."

"No problem. Now all we need are those beers I promised ya." He waved to an attractive waitress who filled their orders the entire evening. Which resulted in a long conversation about their cases and the oddities of each. Danny nearly threw up from laughing so hard when Mac told him that Aiden had said she was on the toilet. "Oh God… That is so Aiden. Damn, I wish I could have heard that."

Mac chuckled with him and sipped casually at his third beer. "Yeah, you woulda liked to work this case with her. I swear, she seemed so into this 'Grand Master' world. I even compared her to Queen Latifah at one point."

Danny couldn't hold it in any longer. He burst out laughing, and tears started rolling down his eyes. Mac feigned anger. "Just why is it so hard for people to get into their heads that I can know something about pop culture?" But Danny's laughter was contagious, and pretty soon, they were attracting glares from other patrons.

And so went the night. Mac seemed to be glad to have someone to just talk to, and Danny was soaking up this fresh side of Mac like a sponge. And before he could protest, Mac had sipped one too many beers and was swaying unconsciously. "Fuck, Mac. I need to get you outta here."

"No complaints here, Danny." Danny slapped the appropriate amount of cash on the table and helped Mac out of the booth, much to his protest. They made it to the door when Mac seemed to stiffen. "Wait… Wait, a minute."

"What's wrong, Mac? You left something?" Mac just shook his head and gave him an annoyed wave. He seemed to be straining to hear something, so Danny listened too. And finally, he heard it. And at first, he laughed. "Country, boss?"

But then, he experienced foot-in-mouth syndrome when the words began to blare over the speakers.

Where were you when the world stopped turning, that September day

"Oh, fuck… Come on, Mac. Let's go." He tugged at Mac's unrelenting arm and managed to drag him out into the street. Danny gave him a quick once over but couldn't get Mac to look at him. He continued to stare longingly at the door, his eyes beginning to shine. What New York bar plays that song? Goddamn assholes…

Danny sighed and laid down onto his makeshift bed, trying to get comfortable in the new surroundings. If he listened hard enough, he thought he could hear Mac rustling around on his sheets and snoring lightly. He smiled softly and felt his eyes droop.

But his brain was still buzzing, and for some sickening reason and without warning, he remembered the day. The day.

Danny walked into work like normal and went about business as normal. He was relatively new at what he did and didn't want to be the one who brought the others down, so he plunged into work that day.

At least, until a screaming technician ran by saying the towers had been hit. That had been enough to get Danny to a window to see for himself. And he saw the flames and the smoke. His stomach churned in nausea, and he was forced to look away.

And when he did, someone slammed into him and continued on without stopping to apologize. When Danny looked to see who it was, he realized with horror that it was Mac. He saw him dash to the elevator and claw frantically at the buttons. He debated whether or not to go talk to him, but the doors opened and cut off his chances. Mac got on quickly and slapped the Door Close button quickly.

But not before Danny got a look at his face. It was contorted into a look of disbelief and anguish melded into one. Yet, the look that gave Danny the most anxiety was the unusual look of terror on his boss's face.

The couch yielded to him, as Danny rolled over to face the cushions. He clenched the sheets tightly and wished he could stop thinking about Mac's pain about Claire. But somehow, Danny knew that everything Mac did was associated with her. He knew a person couldn't get to know Mac without getting to know the fact he suffered daily.

And it bothered him that he still had to suffer. A part of him wanted to ease that pain, but another laughed in his face because it was an impossible task, a Herculean task. One that would certainly not rest within the hands of Daniel Messer.

But as Danny felt sleep settle into him, he vowed to make certain that he tried. Because there would be no other way to soothe his own unease around Mac.

A/N continue? I most certainly will, but I just need to figure out where to go from here. I have future chapters planned, but I dunno what all I should do with the next. I have a vague idea, but I want to know if people like it so far to continue. Thanks for reading!