Title: Precision
Author: stellaluna_
Rating: PG
Pairing: Mac/Danny
Summary: A conversation about respect.
Disclaimer: None of these are mine. Characters are the property of Anthony Zuiker, Jerry Bruckheimer Television, CBS, and Alliance Atlantis.
Notes: For coclaim100 (Prompt 069: Unity).

***

Mac is quiet on the drive back, but he still seems happy; there's a little smile on his face, and Danny is content to watch him, so he doesn't say anything until they're close to Mac's apartment.

"Guy had a good collection," he says then.

"He did," Mac says. "One of the best I've seen."

"You like guns, too?" Danny asks. "I could probably find someone with a sweet gun collection."

"I respect guns," Mac says. "And older guns can be interesting in terms of their construction. But they're not..." He pauses, looking thoughtful.

"Not the same?" Danny suggests.

"Advanced marksmanship, the kind we were taught in the Corps, takes a high degree of skill. But when it comes right down to it, any idiot can fire a gun."

"Ain't that the truth."

"But a sword -- that requires precision. It's also not as removed." Mac traces a cutting motion in the air. "You can fire a gun or a rifle and never even see the face of the person you're shooting at. You can't do that with a blade."

"Right," Danny says. "It's all about, what, control and reaction."

Mac nods. "And getting personal," he says. "You can't remain detached when you're using a blade, even if you want to." He backs the car into a space and puts it in park, but doesn't make a move to get out. "And that's only part of it."

"Oh yeah?" Danny unhooks his seatbelt. "What's the other part?"

"Respect," Mac says. "You respect your opponent. You look him in the eye, whether you're actually trying to kill him or just sparring."

"Respect." A different kind of respect than what he's used to, Danny thinks: Different from the kind he's fought for in street brawls and back-alley altercations, and different from the kind his gun brings him. He remembers the way Mac moved with the stiletto and with some of the other blades, and even though there's still violence in it, what sticks best in his memory is the smooth, measured grace in the movements, the intense physical and mental control Mac had talked a little bit about when he'd been examining the collection. "I could get into that," he says.

"Good." Mac puts a hand on his, and Danny looks at him in surprise. "I wouldn't mind showing you more of it sometime."

"I wouldn't mind, either," Danny says. "You, um, you like the up close and personal part?"

"I do." The tip of Mac's finger moves across the back of his knuckles, and Danny swallows hard. "I think you would, too."

"Probably so."

Mac leans across the front seat so that their faces are inches apart. "Danny."

"Yeah."

"Thank you again for the showing." Mac kisses him before he can answer, kisses him soft and thorough and in a way that makes something twist in his chest. Danny clutches at his t-shirt, letting the stubble on Mac's cheeks scratch pleasurably against his as he kisses him back.

They break the kiss, and Mac doesn't pull away. He looks into Danny's eyes and slides one hand up his arm. "Coming upstairs?" he asks.

"Where else?" Danny says. Mac smiles, and Danny can't help returning it.

Tonight, he thinks, they'll leave the light on.

***