Title: Where's All the Trust Gone To?
By: Croag
Pairing: Mac/Danny
Rating: PG-13
A/N: This was created for a secret Santa thing. Haha, OLD. Yes. So I'm not gonna' bother wishing them a merry christmas right now. XD And this story has absolutely nothing to do with Christmas, so...
Summary: Written for a Secret Santa Prompt: Dogtags & Tattoos!Mac's sitting in a dark corner brooding over his latest Danny problem while Danny's a bit too busy freaking out to notice. Lucky for them, there's always Stella.

***

If he was honest with himself, it'd been bothering him for a while. But, of course, he wasn't. So as far as he was concerned, it hadn't bothered him since he found himself holding a sobbing man in the rain, comforting arms around a shaking body.

After that, he heard all the awed, "that Mac Taylor, what a boss!" and the cheerful, "Mac, if I'm trouble I know who to turn to, eh!" along with the string of other mindless compliments and not-so-subtle prods for help. But, what bothered him most, what grated on his nerves more than anything else... was that look. The look Danny started wearing around him, the one mixed with gratitude and confusion. Like the sight of Mac made the man think, "Why is he helping me now?"

And that...that was what started to nag at him the most.

Because-damn it!- he hadn't been trying to help Danny. It hadn't been some selfless act to help his coworker, his wayward friend.

It was just...at the time...well, to put it bluntly, his conscious wouldn't shut up. Wouldn't stop nagging and picking at him,

'He's not gonna' make it.'

'Gonna' throw him out on his ass again?'

'He's gonna' fall.'

And the worst,

'You were wrong.'

He knew...he knew... he hadn't been the warmest toward his friend because of that brand; that constant burning in his mind, his trust.

That damn tattoo, so muddled on the vic and so stark clear on that smug mobster's back. Bringing with him questions that Mac wasn't sure he wanted answered.

Was Danny ever "one of the boys"?

Did Danny have that same marking?

Did Danny burn it off when he left?

What else was Danny hiding from the lab? From everyone From him?

How could anyone expect Mac to be his mentor, to be buddy buddy with Messer when he finds out the man was lying from day one? Why didn't he tell Mac? Why did he have to lie right to his face, telling him that, of course, Daniel Messer was never a part of the Tanglewood Boys.

Of course.

How was Mac supposed to trust a man who was so close, a man who could look him straight in the eyes and outright lie.
And worst of all, he believed Danny without a single doubt.

The little shit.

'You never gave him a chance. Where's your evidence?'

Sonny's sneering remark... Danny's sudden withdrawal... that was all the evidence he needed.

'You're not so sure anymore...'

Maybe.

The IAB screw up didn't help. Suddenly the tables were turned and it was Danny nursing his bruised trust and re-evaluating his relationships.

But, like all things, everything cooled down given time. He and Danny both began to swallow their pride and slowly, at a snail's pace, gravitated toward each other again.

Mac would never admit it, but that came with a certain feeling of relief.

Then that damn tattoo reared up again like a persistent whack-a-mole. Shove it down, and it'll pop back up when you're too busy trying to beat down the other moles.

And somewhere, in the back of both their minds, both Mac and Danny had been expecting it.

Neither had guessed that damn mark would appear again in the form of a suicide, in the form of one Louie Messer.

And of course, of course, there was a new kick in the gut: Danny the murderer. Which...he just couldn't see.

Danny the gangbanger?

Yes, but less and less.

Danny the murderer?

Just...no.

Not with that hopeless look on the usual defiant face, handing Mac the evidence like a prisoner handing his executioner the axe. Like he fully expected Mac to just take the cigarette and condemn him right there on the spot, while the whole lab was doing a bad job of trying to look like they weren't watching with bated breaths.

At that moment, Mac knew: he wouldn't let things get out of hand, wouldn't let Sassone or the IAB gain control. He couldn't. Because at that moment he knew if handled the situation like he did the Sonny episode or the shootout...Danny would crumble. He would finally crumble and shatter into little pieces and Mac wasn't really sure if he'd be able to put him back together.

'Would you really want to?'

Of course!

But then Danny, that stupid rash idiot, was gone. There was no evidence; the case was cold except for that one searing piece of evidence: the cigarette.

In the end, it wasn't him who was able to save his friend, it was his brother. Louie.

It just figured that, in that moment, Danny decided to disappear.

Fast forward three hours later where Mac found himself holding a sobbing Danny in his arms.

Now, two days later, he was in his office staring thoughtfully as Danny bustled around his tiny lab with a puppy dog, still trying to look all tough and macho.

Things were better with them, there was still a little tension, but, Mac supposed, logically there always would be.

He still didn't like it.

Did he want more from Danny?

'Maybe.'

Was it stupid?

'Yeah.'

Could he do anything about it? Mac snorted.

'Probably not.'

But what could he do? No matter what, he needed to know. Needed to know that Danny didn't have that mark on his back, that he never had one to begin with. He needed to know, for sure, without a doubt!

But how could he do this when they're still learning to trust each other again? When Danny's just starting to look him in the eyes and grin, instead of look of away.

And even then, it took helping Danny through being framed and his brother almost dying for them to mend their relationship to this point. After that, it was back to a snail's pace.

Mac couldn't wait that long, but it wasn't like either of them needed another emergency. Between the Tanglewood situation and Flack and himself nearly getting blown up, both of them were fine with dull and calm.

So what could Mac do to make their relationship grow to where it used to be? And maybe, just maybe, to something better?

Danny wasn't sure how he got here; on the verge of screaming while clothes went soaring through the air.

He really didn't have time for this.

And Mac was going to have. His. Head.

"Danny?" he froze, "What are you doing?"

"Uhh..." he swallowed. Should he tell her? Well...she was pretty close to Mac, maybe she'd have...an insight? That could help?

His fingers drummed his leg. Bad habit. Nervous habit.

He was screwed. You know what? Fuck it. Wasn't she like she could make things worse just by knowing.

"Help a guy out, Stella?" she appeared beside him, an amused smile on her face as she stared into his locker.

"Spring cleaning a little early, dontcha' think?" she laughed at his scowl and started to pick up of some of the clothes, pausing for a minute to give the pants a weird look, before tossing them away, "What do you need help with?"

"Mac uh..." he coughed, "He gave me something...and I lost it. I think it's in here but..." he gestured to the mess, "I can't find anything."

"Well what are you looking for?" he kept quiet, she rolled her eyes, "I can't help you if I don't know what I'm looking for."

"You can't tell anyone, alright?"

"Okay." Danny hesitated, and then sighed.

"Dogtags." She raised a brow, "He gave me his dogtags." He glanced up at her, and noticed the curious expression on her face, "What?"
"Are you two..." she paused, going over a delicate way to put it, "Fucking yet?" Eh, she was never one for delicacies anyway.

"Wha-no!" Danny had to resist the urge to growl as she starting laughing, hands waving everywhere.

"I'm sorry but..." she waved him away, that amused twinkle still in her eyes, "You realize he married the last person he gave those too, right?"

"That was different!" he bristled as she shot him a dubious look, "His wife had...you know..." he cupped his chest, "Girl parts!" another rush of laughter met his ears as she leaned against the locker, cracking up so badly she started snorting.

"Girl parts? What are you, five?"

"Shut up! I'm stressed out, okay? We're finally starting to get along and bam! I do this!" he looked he was gonna' cry. Stella took pity.

"Calm down, you're starting to sound like a hormonal fifteen year old girl," she beamed down at him, he snorted, gently shoved her back with a small smile.

"You gonna' help me, or what?" she did her best put upon sigh and pushed him down, the two of them sitting side by side against the lockers.

"Why did he give it you?" he shrugged.

"I dunno', he said it was for a case, but..." he trailed off. She gave him an expectant look.

"But?" he nervously rubbed his neck, hesitant to keep going.

"Danny, treat this like a case. You're the victim, and I'm the complete and utter professional CSI. Now, I need all the information to solve the problem. So..." he rolled his eyes. Stella grinned and completely contradicted herself as she acted like a giddy fifteen year old about to hear some juicy gossip. Impatiently, she nudged him in the ribs, "But?"

"I just didn't see how it would help the case!" Danny blurted as he threw his arms up, "The vic was shot, we got prints, we ran the prints, we got our perp. End of story. But then Mac came in with his dogtags and told me to analyze 'em for the case!"

"Then what?"

"He left!"

"Just like that?"

"Well..." he frowned, "Kinda'..."

"You need me...to analyze these?" Danny stared at the other man for any trace of well...anything, really, other than the blank mask he had on.

"Yes. Is that a problem?"

"Well no! It's just..." What's the point of analyzing them? He held the silver necklace in his hand, fingers absently rubbing against the uneven surface of the letters, "Shouldn't you be analyzing this? I mean, this necklace...err!...Dogtags," he quickly corrected, not wanting to offend and, oh, get fired or anything, "...They're one of those sentimental things people don't like others touchin, right?" Mac let a small, amused smile surface.

"Yeah."

"And you're given 'em to me?"

Danny shook his head, "And then it got weirder." Stella grinned,

"How so?"

"Well uh..."

Danny nervously fiddled with the dogtags, then looked up at ex-marine, "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure." Mac smiled warmly and placed a hand on Danny's shoulder, "I wouldn't trust anyone else."

Stella gaped. Danny just solemnly nodded and finished, "An' believe you me, it took every ounce a' will in my body to not jump. Because I've never seen Mac smile like that, much less, you know, touch me except for," he shrugged, "a pat on the back every now an' then. But, he's hasn't done that since...well...ya' know."

"Wow...well...you're right."

"I'm right?" he jumped back as she suddenly jumped up, stretching her arms out. She looked down and winked.

"Mac's going kill you." He just stared at her. Couldn't she at least pretend to care a little? Or at least empathize? Instead, she just smiled, "I gotta' go down to the morgue, get the coroner's report, but I'll keep my eyes open, okay?" she waved and quickly left, leaving a dumbfounded Danny behind. He blinked, his shoulders finally slumping down with defeat.

Well damn, what was he going to do now?

Mac looked up at the quiet knock, only to see a smirking Stella. He raised a brow as she confidently sauntered into his office, closing the door behind her, and all with a look that could only be described as...smug.

"Hi Mac." He frowned.

"Hello Detective Bonasera." She rolled her eyes, "Don't you have a case to be working on?" she sighed.

"Yeah, don't worry. Hawkes is going down to the morgue right now to get the report. Right now, though, I figured I'd do you a favor."

"Oh?"

"Mm-hmm." She got up, reached into her pockets, and pulled a familiar looking set of silver chains, "Found these in the locker room." He reached out to the grab them, she quickly pulled back, "I found them along with a little puppy."

"Puppy? Did you bring a dog in? Stella you know that pets aren't-"

"I was talking about Danny, Mac." Oh. He coughed, regaining his composure.

"Why do you have my dogtags?"

"Good question, especially since they're always at home, right?" she waited for his response, he just glared, "Or maybe you gave them to Danny. Why would you do that?"

"For a-"

"Case, I know." She waved him off, "We both know you lied. You of all people should know that subtlety goes over his head. Honestly," she handed them back, "your dogtags? Did you really think he'd make the connection? Especially after that excuse? Danny never looks beyond the surface unless you prod him to." Stella gave him a pointed look, "Which you didn't. Now," she dramatically opened the door, "Go out there, be blunt, and please resolve all issues with him, okay? I'm so tired of all this unspoken everything between you two." She gave him a small smile, "You two really need to let go and move on." He opened his mouth to bite out a reply, then snapped it shut. And without another word, dogtags grasped tightly in hand, he left.

'Fifteen minutes,' he waspishly threw another wrinkled up suit into his locker, stuffing it in there nice and tight, 'You've been sulking in here for fifteen minutes and you still got nothin'! Think! What are you going to do? Tell him? Lie?' he stopped, then shook his head, 'No, he already thinks I'm a liar. No point in provin' him right.'

"Danny?" he stiffened.

'Crap! He's already found me! What do I do?'

"Uh..." he quickly slammed his locker, "Hey Mac. What can I do for ya'?"

"Actually I was looking for you." Danny winced.

"Yeah?"

'He knows! He knows! Tell him!' a panicked voice screeched, 'Tell him before you lose his trust!'

"Yeah..." he looked away for a moment, then looked at the younger CSI,

'Tell him!'

"Danny, lis-"

'Tell him'

Danny clenched his eyes shut and blurted, "I lost them! The dogtags! I lost your dogtags! Sorry!" he cringed, looking away waiting for the cold words or the blunt, "you're fired." Or even worse, the silence. That could suffocating silence that told you how much of a failure you were better than any combination of words ever-

"Danny."

'Here it comes.'

"Danny, look at me." He really didn't want to, "Now." Did he have a choice? Bracing himself, Danny met Mac's eyes...and blinked.

Was he holding...dogtags?

Seeing the surprised look on Danny's face, he held out the chains.

"You dropped these."

"Where did-"

"It doesn't matter." Except now he owed his owned his own employee a favor. Noticing Danny's confused look, he nervously prattled on, "Thank you for admitting you lost them. It's very...professional of you. It means..." something, "a lot." The two men awkwardly stood there, staring at each other, before Danny quickly snatched the chains out of Mac's hand.

"I'll uh...I'll get these analyzed. See ya' later, Mac." He anxiously headed out, ready to get the hell out when-

"Wait." Danny winced, "We need to talk."

'Here comes the reprimand...'

"I need to know." Mac hesitantly stepped forward, then, with a strange glint in his eyes, suddenly grabbed Danny's arm and dragged him off, ignoring the surprised sputterings coming from his friend.

"Mac what the-"

"Danny quiet." Confused, Danny let himself be led through the labs, past the surprised glances and Stella's smug smile? He glanced back but she was gone. Finally, Mac shoved him into his office and closed the doors, the blinds going clack! When the room went dark, the lone light on Mac's desk valiantly shining, Mac sat on the desk.

Danny swallowed. This didn't look good for him. Maybe Mac was angrier then he let on.

He should try to fix things, right? Before his boss decided to fire his ass.

"Listen, I'm sorry I dropped your dogtags wherever you found 'em. I know they mean a lot to ya' and I lost them and I feel really guilty! I do! And I know I never got 'em analyzed yet, but I'm on it now! I swear!" he shot Mac a pleading look, "Just let me go and I'll do it."

"No." he slumped, "Stay. Please." Surprised, Danny looked at Mac. Not just some fleeting glance, but really looked at Mac, with the observant eye of a CSI.

Something was off.

'What did you do now, Messer?'
"Uhh...sure." He edged closer to the ex-marine, "What's up?"

"I need to see something. Then I'll let you go...I promise."

"What do you need to see?" Mac stayed quiet, causing Danny to move closer, studying his friend's expression and posture, trying to figure out what was wrong. What was bothering the great unbreakable Mac Taylor, who was suddenly starting to look a little too human for his comfort, "Mac?" Still...it was kind of...refreshing.

"I wanna' see your tattoo." And the dread was back.

They're back to that again?

"Mac, I don't have a-"

"Take off your shirt."

"What? No!" he jumped back and headed for the door, letting out a startled yelp as the ex-marine grabbed his arm and roughly threw him onto the desk, trapping the younger's man body against his, "Mac! What the hell are you doing?!"

"I need to know," he roughly pulled off Danny's jacket, ignoring the other man's snarls and the way he bucked up against him (which actually felt really really good), yanking his shirt up to showed the toned, smooth back.

The blank shoulder blades. Unmarred and perfect.

Where was the tattoo? Was he...wrong?

Frantic and certain that- no, after all this time he wasn't wrong! He couldn't have been wrong! Mac Taylor did not make mistakes this big!- he ran his hands over the smooth shoulder blades like he could rub the tattoo into existence. Danny kept struggling and wriggling and-

"STOP!" Mac froze, his mind finally catching up to him. Horrified, he looked down to the wild eyed Danny, and quickly jumped back, looking everywhere but at the shocked CSI.

"S-sorry. I uh...," he coughed, straightening himself up and pointedly looking at the shuttered windows as Danny quickly buttoned up his shirt, "I understand if you want me to-"

"What the hell was all that about, huh?" surprised, he finally looked over and met with angry blue, "First you treat me like shit, and then everything gets better...but then you pull this? Were we ever really good, Mac? Huh? Just tell me, were we?" he growled and stalked towards him, "Am I ever really gonna' appease the great Mac Taylor?"

"Danny-"

"Am I?!" Mac took a deep breath, and raised his arms in surrender.

"You haven't done anything wrong, here. Okay? I know that."

"Then what the hell were you doing?"

"I...I needed to make sure?" he frowned, "I needed to know, for certain, that you didn't lie to me."

"Lie to you?"

"About Tanglewood, yeah."

"Why not just ask, huh? Was all that really necessary?"
"I did ask!" Danny gave him a look, Mac didn't meet it, "I apologized, didn't I?"

"Why did you feel the need to know now?" Danny shook the dogtags still in his hands, "And what the fuck were these about?"

"I gave them to you for a case," the tough New Yorker snorted, rolling his eyes.

"The truth."

"I..." nervously, Mac sighed and ran his hands through what little hair he had, frantically thinking of a way to just stall and hold off the-

'Ah, fuck it.'

"Danny, I know this is inappropriate, but... you asked." The excuse sounded dumb even to his own ears. Mac took a deep breath, "I like you. A lot," Danny opened his mouth to reply but Mac held up his hand, "But I can't even look at you anymore without thinking about what Sonny said. He had...heavily implied that you were once a part of the Tanglewood Boys. After the Louie incident I wasn't as sure about Sonny's words but...still... the doubt was there. So I had to know for sure. And the dogtags...that was my way of saying that I...I trust you. I know I never acted like it but...I do. Really. And I realize that I didn't handle the Minhas shooting or Sonny's words all that great, but I did what I did and I have to stick by my actions." He shot the surprised Danny a small smile, "That doesn't mean I can't try to make things better though." Mac put on his blank face, not willing to show how gut wrenchingly nerve wracking this was.

How would Danny react?

Would he storm out?

Sue him for sexual harassment?

Let him down gently (or probably not so gently)?

Or...feel the same?

Instead, blue eyes just stared at him for the longest time, before shoulders slumped and Danny just sighed.

"I can't,"

If there's one thing Mac was taking with him to his grave, it was this feeling of rejection. And the fact that he even experienced it.

"It's alright," he paused, "If you don't feel comfortable working-"

"I want too!" Danny blurted. Mac blinked in surprise, trying to keep the slight hope off his face, "But I can't. I just...it's too much too soon, ya' know?" he shot Mac a twitchy smile, fingers nervously twitching at his side, "Last week I thought you couldn't look me in the eye without wanting to fire me, ya' know? You think I didn't hear Sonny then? I did, I knew why you didn't back me up with Minhas shooting like...I hoped you would have. Just a few hours ago I was freaking out in the locker room with Stella about your damn dogtags. Hell, back track ten minutes when you had me pinned to a desk with my life flashin' before my eyes. And now this? It's too damn much to fast. Besides that, you don't trust me. Not really. You say you do but after you pulled that stunt? Just to prove I was lying? Where the hell is the trust in that? I mean, do you listen to yourself, Mac? You completely contradicted yourself, sayin' how you doubted me and thought I lied and nothin' I said or did really changed that opinion and then you go and say you give me these," he shook the dogtags, "as a sign of your trust? That doesn't make any sense!" Mac watched as the younger man quickly opened the door to leave...and then slammed it shut, hand still glued to the silver knob, "But...listen, give it time, okay? Maybe...I dunno'...one day." Flashing him a weak smile, Danny waved the dogtags, "Until then, I'll just keep these company, okay?" and before Mac could react, he left, leaving the slightly confused ex-marine behind.

Was...everything okay now?

"Where the hell is the trust in that?"

He winced.

No...

"Until then, I'll just keep these company." Danny smiled

Mac smiled back.

***