Disclaimer: I don't own CSI: New York, Danny Messer, or Lindsay Monroe.

There were hundreds upon thousands of sounds that easily reminded one of the other. Steady rhythmic heartbeats, the clicking sounds of boots and heels on tile, on wood, on concrete, the sounds of beeping and whirring machines. The sounds of soft, contented breathing that rose up when they would watch each other sleep, and the contradictory sounds of heavy, labored breathing emitted when they were doing their duty out in the field or were locked together behind closed doors.

There were sounds that would paint pictures across their brains, sounds that would make them ache for the presence of the other, and sounds that would make them close their eyes just to fully take it in. Motorcycles always made her spin about, made her feel a little breathless, like her existence was riding on that one sound entirely in that moment. Rain on his window pane always made drew his attention from whatever it was he was doing, and he would watch and listen, and sometimes he could almost convince himself that with every splatter of water on the cool glass he was sitting next to was her voice, whispering things to him.

And ring tones would make their hearts leap up into their throats. Songs and singers and lyrics and words, and their names in the pitches of the others voice was heaven. There were other sounds, too. Mundane sounds that typically occurred during holidays or sounds of effects in movies or music.

But there was one sound they had both come to enjoy with every fiber of their being, one sound that they spent hoping to hear again, because hearing that sound meant they were together and doing what they loved to do. While he would grin at the possibility that he was defacing something that wasn't entirely his, city property, and could easily put it off to an accidental thing, she would roll her eyes, but secretly enjoy the noise as much as he did.

It was a rarity, in general, though if they had both been entirely determined to create the noise, it wouldn't have been difficult. Instead they settled for forgetting and remembering again when it happened. His grin would widen every time, and, while she tried to bite her lip, her smile would, too. It couldn't be helped, anyway. The sound of metal on metal, blue and gold scratching at one another couldn't be avoided.

Or at least that's what they liked to pretend. It could easily be fixed, if he were to switch his from his right to his left or if she would switch from the left to the right. But neither was willing to give up their habit. Not that they hadn't tried. They had. Before they realized how wonderful it sounded.

The first time he'd leaned down, and the second time she'd reached up, and both times their hips had rubbed against one another in the need to be as close as humanly, physically, scientifically possible, even as their tongues danced in the other's mouth, or their lips rang along jaw lines, cheek bones, or the dips in their skin near their collarbones.

And there were times when the sound had been so entirely absent from their current lives, that they had gotten so caught up in being between the living and the dying that they would find one another through the open glass walls and know what the other wanted, and would find themselves standing in a secluded corner, an empty lab, in the break room, in an office.

He would grin and she would try not to smile, and they would both lean toward each other, eyes closed, with the sound of metal on metal ringing in their ears.

X-posted at livejournal.

Blame it on my recent fascination with who wears their badge where, and the sudden realization that they wear theirs on opposite sides, which, when they're facing each other, would mean they'd be in the same place. Hence. Sorry it's so short; it was a seriously random idea.

nikki.02: I'm sure this'll get updates randomly all the time, especially when the new season comes out. I'm glad you like it, though, and thanks for reviewing! :)

afrozenheart412: Oh, thanks so much! I feel like I have more focus on Danny most of the time (because who's not in love with Carmine?), but I'm glad you think I'm getting Lindsay across, too. ;) And thank you very much for leaving me a review!

And thanks to everybody else who's reading this!

-Piper