A/N Okay, Danny finds the dog tags in this chappy, and Mac somewhat discovers his feelings. I think we can all assume that Danny unconsciously has already figured out his feelings at this point. I dunno. I'll let you be the judge. Rating is still T for language and characters belong to CSI:NY and CBS. Bastards.

Days went by before Danny found the dog tags, after wearing the jacket to work only once again that week.

He had walked into the AV lab and thought about that morning, as he had been doing for the past few days. Mac hadn't tried to discuss the events, and Danny hadn't tried to make him. Things seemed to be settling back into the way things were before they went to the bar, and that unsettled Danny.

And in these thoughts, Danny heard the sound of metal clinking together. He looked down, thinking his dog tags were outside his shirt. But they weren't. Frowning, Danny took a step forward and heard it again.

"What the...?" He began to fish around his pockets: pants pockets, shirt pockets, and finally, jacket pockets. His fingers lighted upon a chain, so he pulled it out curiously. Danny's eyes widened when he realized that it was a set of dog tags. Aching to know whose, he held them closer to his eyes.

"Oh fuck." The name on the tags read "Taylor, Mac." Danny bit his lip and stared at it again. "What the hell? How did I get these?" He began to worry that he must have done it absently or when asleep, but he wasn't exactly a regular somnambulist.

The metal felt warm in his hands, and Danny blushed when he realized that Mac must have given them to him. Mac gave him a piece of himself, and that floored Danny. His mind was reeling as he tried to see if there was anything else.

There was. Crumpled at the bottom of his pocket was a sticky-note that had the scrawl Danny knew too well from reports. It scratched out, "Keep them. I'll explain later."

Danny mouthed the words absently and inhaled deeply. He curled his fingers around the chain and looked around in confusion. Why can't you tell me now? What would make you give me this, Mac?

But when he had looked around, his eyes danced upon a figure in the adjacent lab, staring at him.

Mac.

The younger CSI felt his stomach tighten as he stepped closer to the glass, dog tags held up slightly so Mac could see them. Mac did, and he smiled enigmatically, therefore confusing Danny even more.

He shrugged his shoulders and attempted to get across the point of why without actually walking the few feet it took to get the other lab and physically converse. But Danny was too unsure and nervous of what Mac was getting at to do that.

His boss grinned again, making him wonder if he was feeling emotionally better after the upset with the closet. Mac picked up a sticky pad close to him and pointed at Danny with his other hand. His intention was clear, making Danny groan and lower his hands in frustration.

He watched Mac smile again and turn to look in the microscope, so the "conversation" was evidently over. Danny turned away from the glass and looked at the dog tags one more time.

A happy smile skated across is face, but Danny squelched it before Mac could see it. The dog tags were carefully guided back into his jacket pocket, as with the note, which he smoothed out neatly. He stole one last look at Mac before he went over to the computer and went on working.

Mac had watched all of this from the corner of his eye, and he felt a blush creeping to his cheeks when he saw how careful Danny was with his… Well, they weren't his anymore. Still, he felt somehow exhilarated.

The specimen in front of his eyes seemed to wiggle, so Mac rubbed his eyes wearily, knowing that he needed to get some sleep this week. But the sight of that beach ball would flash in his mind every time his eyes closed, and before he could stop it, he would begin to have dreams of the plane crashing into the side of the building.

Stop. Work. Just work right now. That's what he had been telling himself when he saw Danny enter the AV lab. Mac would have waved, but he decided that wouldn't seem professional. But he couldn't help but grin when he saw Danny pull the dog tags out and gawk at them.

Mac knew the exact moment when Danny realized they were his because his face stretched into an expression of shock and then subdued happiness. To have been the one to make Danny happy heartened Mac, and he couldn't understand why.

Their ensuing "talk" amused Mac, and Danny's feigned frustration only made him feel giddier. Why?

And now he was trying not to walk over to the other lab and explain, but Mac knew he couldn't do that. Not just yet. So he forced himself to look back at his work and continue.

Danny was more than glad when the end of the day came around, and cases were starting to mesh into completion. He shrugged his coat on and instinctively reached into the pocket, feeling relieved when cold metal danced through his fingers.

Looking to the glass fishbowl of an office that Mac had been graced with, he noticed the light was on. Again…

Danny made a beeline for his boss, steeling himself to not bug Mac again for answers to the question he had already asked that day, knowing too well that it would just serve to piss Mac off.

His boss was facing away from Danny, looking forlornly at the pictures of himself in the Marines, humming absentmindedly some tune Danny couldn't recognize. The younger CSI felt almost guilty as he rapped lightly against the doorframe. "Hey, Mac?"

The chair creaked loudly when Mac whirled around to face him, his face in apparent surprise. "Danny. What can I do for you?"

A nervous chuckle escaped Danny's unrelenting throat. "You… You wanna go get a drink tonight again?" He bit his tongue anxiously, fiddling with the chain in his pocket hopefully.

Mac felt heat rise to his face for the second time that day, and he was starting to make a connection from his unusual reactions to Danny. But why? His fingers wrestled with the others, but he kept his voice clear. "Sure, Danny. I'd like that." Danny straightened and smiled warmly, but Mac interrupted him before he could say anything. "But don't even think about getting me drunk enough to tell you about that. Like I said, 'I'll explain later.' At my own discretion." So maybe by then, I'll have a reason myself.

Laughter rang in his ears as Danny patted his back fondly. "Wasn't gonna." Mac raised an eyebrow amusedly. "I swear!" Mac just laughed with him and started walking towards the exit. "So… Are we going to Sullivan's?" Danny remembered what Mac had asked and even though he was pretty sure of what Mac would say, he asked, just to be one-hundred and ten percent sure.

Mac frowned internally, thinking of the song, but he smiled for Danny. "Yeah, that'd be great, Danny."

The conversation halted and made way for the wide breadth of silence, which graced them with its presence all the way to the bar. Danny was just about to say something when Mac gripped the steering wheel tightly and made a sharp turn, his face distant, so Danny changed his mind and kept silent until he saw the familiar neon lights blinking in front of him.

"Ahh, home away from home." He joked, but when Mac didn't speak or react, he felt unnerved. They walked inside and let the smell of beer and New York waft over them. Mac tugged subconsciously at his tie and walked to an empty table, not looking to see if Danny followed. Danny watched him from behind, noting that he didn't seem to be uptight or like his normal self.

Which made the silence all that more confusing. He sat himself opposite Mac and bit his lip. Finally, Danny just spoke up with guarded anticipation. "What's eating at you, Mac?"

Mac's eyes wandered up to him at the sound of his voice, and he inhaled. "I… I just was…" He floundered, not wanting to really tell what was wrong. "I was just trying to decide whether I wanted Guinness or Budweiser, that's all." He feigned a cheeky grin, but blue eyes glinted at him with concern. Mac turned, trying to avoid those eyes, which seemed to know exactly what he was thinking. "It's nothing, Danny."

But it wasn't nothing. It was everything. It was the reason for his blushing, his smiling, and his relative ease around Danny. Even now, when he felt scared and afraid at what he had determined, he felt relaxed. All because of it.

His goddamn feelings.

Mac heard Danny sigh and mutter, "Fine," only to speak mournfully when placing his order. Mac tried to catch Danny's eye and cheer him up, but he refused to be consoled. The older detective was on his last nerve, refusing to be given the silent treatment by Danny, when Danny spoke.

"You know, when I said I had your back, that meant I'm open to listening to what you gotta say. If there's something bugging you… Or whatever. I'm not trying to pry; I just thought I outta clarify that to you." Danny tried his best to look angry, but all he could manage was the upset pouting look. And that pissed him off because now Mac was gonna think of him as some whiny kid. And that just fucks up everything.

Mac groaned softly and rubbed at his temples. "Danny…" He looked over to see if Danny was looking, but he was staring purposefully at the bar taps. "Danny," he said sharply to ensure that the blue eyes that scared him so much were tuned into him. "I'm flattered. Really, I am. But you don't wanna listen to the ramblings of someone with nothing important to say, do you?" Something inside of Mac hoped that he'd say yes, but the side of Mac that wanted to avoid complications fervently wished against it.

"Yeah, I do, Mac." The blue eyes wavered, but the expression within them was steadfast.

Mac shivered and mumbled, "You do…" He swallowed nervously and was glad when the waitress suddenly appeared with their drinks. He gratefully took a sip of beer and knew that the blue eyes followed him expectantly. Mac sighed and placed the glass back on the table. "Look, Danny. You came here to have fun; I came here to have fun. I don't think either of us feel that arguing about this is fun, so why don't we both relax and enjoy the evening, okay?"

Danny felt his throat tighten, but he nodded. Mac gave him a weak smile and tried to encourage him. "Hey, how about this? When I tell you about those dog tags, I'll tell you anything you want. Okay?" Mac felt antsy to ensure Danny's happiness, and the reasons were somehow loosely attaching themselves to his theory.

His employee smiled back, a bit too wide to be entirely genuine. But Danny was far too mad at himself for his childish behavior to be as happy as he was when Mac agreed to go with him. He took a long sip of his beer, vowing to attempt to go with Mac's wishes.

But Danny also wanted to numb the increasing tension in his stomach that had built ever since that night in the bar, and he knew that Mac had everything to do with it. This unsettling concern and tension had everything to do with the man before him, the one who sat patiently in his chair, guarding his pain and secrets like his prized possessions.

However… Danny had stuck his hand into his pocket absently and was reminded instantly of the dog tags. Mac's dog tags. He fingered them affectionately as he began to hold inane conversations with Mac, all of which had nothing to do with what he wanted them to talk about. However... The metal was burning in between his fingers.

Mac did already give me one of his prized possessions…

A/N Oooh wadja think? I really like Mac in this story for some reason, as opposed to Mac in myother stories. But of course, no Mac is as good as the real thing, played by the seeeeeexxxxxxy Gary Sinise. Okay, I'm gonna stop the Sinise pimpage and voice a concern. I just realized that the DVDs put the shows in order of airdates, so Grand Master is followed by A Man a Mile. That's perfect for my story, but the actual episode number of GM is 105 and AMAM is 102. Sooo if no one has any objections, I'm gonna stick with airdates so not to mess up my plot line. But if someone protests, I have another idea. So what do you think?