A/N: I have never actually been anywhere near New York in my life so I can't say for sure what's over there… So my descriptions of places might be a little vague…

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

It'd been a long day. Hell, it'd been a long week. An arson case with one man dead was their first case on Monday. In the following days, the case had turned into a frightening series of seemingly random arsons. It'd gotten on everyone's nerves, especially since there seemed to be no reason at all behind the fires. They struggled to piece together all of the evidence but all their leads seemed useless and there were no good witnesses who weren't killed in the fire or in deep coma. It was frustrating, to say the least, when they were all stuck in the lab with practically nothing to go on.

What was most annoying of all was the constant wrangling between Danny and Lindsay. They'd managed to form a respect for each other but their personalities clashed a little too much. Danny teased and joked, trying to liven up the mood and the rest of the team understood that so they tried to tolerate him. Lindsay, however, accused him of not taking the case seriously. They fought and bickered so much, Mac had been forced to send them both off on completely different leads, resulting in a challenge between the two CSIs as to who would close the case first.

Whether it was a good thing or not, it was Stella and Hawkes who finally managed to link the arsonist to a crummy apartment where he lived. They arrived just in time to catch him and stop him from setting a fire to that building itself. Lindsay and Danny both congratulated Stella and Hawkes on a job well done but their fight was far from over, judging from the glares they shot at each other.

Well, at least they'd caught the guy. Now perhaps, the team could catch up on some much-needed sleep. Danny rode alone in a subway compartment, massaging the bridge of his nose. His limbs ached with bone-deep weariness. He shouldn't have taken Flack up on that offer of going out for a celebratory round of drinks. His head was already beginning to pound. One thought, however, stood alone among the rest, and it was accompanied by a petite face, framed by honey-brown locks, chocolate eyes hard and a scowl on that pretty face.

I gotta apologize to Montana tomorrow, He thought. They were good friends and it wasn't a good idea to keep arguing over something stupid. They'd definitely still have to work on many more cases together and Danny didn't want this little fight to mar their friendship. Danny couldn't promise he'd stop ticking her off though. It sounded childish to admit it but she looked cute when she was angry.

Lindsay rode alone too, in the compartment next to Danny's though neither CSI was aware of the other, assuming they were alone on the train. Lindsay had stayed behind to file some paperwork and now she dozed on and off in her seat, waking up every now and then to make sure she had yet to miss her stop. The train rumbled on the tracks and both detectives were tired and silent.

Lindsay too, thought about her quarrel with Danny. The man could be so immature sometimes, she thought angrily, but with that cheeky grin, she couldn't really stay mad at him for long. And anyway, deep down inside, she knew he was just trying to cheer them all up. It was just that…the case had really gotten to her, especially when one of those places that the man had burned down was an orphanage. It was dumb luck that none of the children were inside that day.

But there was no doubt in her mind what she had to do. Come morning, she was going to apologize to Danny for her bad temper.

Their ears perked up momentarily when a rowdy group of men, all stone-drunk, stumbled into Danny's compartment. Lindsay didn't bother to take notice. They probably wouldn't even know she was there. Danny only studied them for a while before ignoring them too.

Two stations later, the station-master looked at his watch. The next train was late. Checking his controls, he found the train had stopped a few feet from the station. When there was no reply from the conductor when the station-master asked for a report, the man sent a technician to check it out, just in case there was a problem with the engine or something.

The technician, a young engineer, whistled cheerfully as he walked down the tracks, waving his torchlight in the darkness. He could see the headlights of the train just up ahead. The conductor wasn't in his cabin and the technician frowned. Maybe the conductor was trying to fix the problem by himself or maybe he had some unruly passengers. Whatever it was, the man might be grateful for some back-up.

The moment he climbed onto the train, the technician was struck by how deathly silent the train was. It appeared to be empty so when a groan reached his ears, the technician jumped. He whirled around, his eyes landing on a pool of blood with a trail leading away from it, going towards the conductor's cabin. The technician followed the trail of blood to see the back of a man, limping along. He was using the metal bars as support as he clutched at his bleeding leg.

The technician was taken out of his shock when the man suddenly lost his footing and collapsed. The technician raced forward, his hands fumbling for his phone as he dialed 911.

Mac massaged his temples tiredly as he watched the paramedics carry the man out. After all the frustration and stress from the last case, Mac needed nothing more than a nice long nap and a big cup of coffee. But the city still ran and crime still happened. At least this was a fairly routine case. A man had been shot in the subway in the leg but he wasn't dead yet. Mac could only guess that he stumbled on some trigger-happy drunks or maybe he saw something he shouldn't have. In any case, it seemed to be a simple case of being at the wrong place at the wrong time. And since the vic wasn't dead, he should be able to provide a description of his shooter.

Our vic's name is Nelson Evans." Flack reported as he peeked into the compartment. "The station-master just identified him as the conductor of this ride. The technician who called it in is new so he didn't recognize him immediately."

"I'll run the scene until Danny gets here," Mac said, "You follow our vic and see if he remembers anything."

Flack nodded and left to chase after the paramedics. Mac frowned at his watch, wondering what was taking Danny so long. The man would normally be here by now, and this station wasn't very far from Danny's apartment.

Maybe he wasn't awake yet. It'd been a hectic week, with that arson case and his fight with Lindsay. Mac could understand if he was exhausted and hadn't been awakened by his pager. He paged Danny again, and just so he could force them to patch things up and work together again, Mac called Lindsay in too.

Flack jogged easily after the paramedics. It wasn't a very urgent rush actually. The man had been shot in the leg and he'd lost some blood but the bleeding had been stopped already. The only thing now was to get the man to the hospital so they could extract the bullet but that was about it. Except for the obvious pain, the man wasn't in any immediate danger. He would be in crutches for a while though.

The sound of beeping filled the quiet, empty station and everyone looked down automatically at their pagers and cells. The incessant beeping continued and was soon joined by a second beeping, creating a truly annoying racket. Flack glanced around at the blank-looking uniformed officers, all of whom shrugged to show it wasn't theirs. Curious, the tall detective followed the sounds to a trash bin. He approached the bin cautiously. It might sound like a pair of pagers but who knew what the noise really was? And who threw away two perfectly good pagers anyway?

Right on top of everything was a satchel and a purse, both of which looked irritatingly familiar. Flack reached in and carefully pulled the two articles aside, revealing two buzzing pagers directly below. Flack reached for the two communication devices, and was stunned to discover that both of them just received messages from a 'Mac'.

No way… Flack thought, that would be way too coincidental. There was no way this could be happening. Flack read the message on the pager and it took a moment to process the message. He was just so stunned by the way things were turning out. When it finally did, something in his chest tightened anxiously. There was an identical message on the other pager. There was no doubt right now. These two pagers belonged to people on the team and Mac had called them both to the subway station.

Flack swallowed hard, worry welling up inside him. He knew Danny was one of them, since Mac had said he was coming. But who was the other? Stella? Lindsay? Flack sort of doubted Hawkes carried a purse. Whoever it was, this was the time to tell Mac and call in the rest of the team. Flack flipped his phone open, his stomach sinking terribly. Danny was his best friend and both women were good friends of his. He still didn't want to believe that anything had happened to them.

"Mac," Mac's voice came professionally over the line.

"Hey Mac," Flack licked his lips nervously. "Other than Danny, who did you call to the scene?"

Mac frowned at the strange question. "I called Lindsay. Did you see either of them on the way out?"

"Uh…no Mac, but we have a problem. I just found pagers in a trash bin, along with bags," Flack dug carefully through the rest of the trash, "I've got wallets and coats too and I'm willing to bet it belongs to the two of them."

"Why do you say that?" Mac was starting to worry too. Flack wouldn't say something like this unless he was sure.

"Both pagers have messages calling them to a shootout in the subway, coming from you. Plus, I'm pretty sure I recognize Danny's bag when I see it. Mac, they couldn't be…" Flack couldn't finish the sentence, his worst fears getting to him.

Mac was silent, "I'll call Stella and Hawkes in. Stay with the vic Flack, we'll need everything he can give us. And put some uniforms to search the area…just in case."

Hawkes was still groggy with sleep when his phone rang. He ignored it. He wasn't on call that night so it couldn't be anything urgent. He stuffed his head among his pillows, trying to muffle out that goddamned ringing. But the caller was persistent, and that annoying sound just droned on and on, drilling into his head like a jackhammer. Finally, he decided to answer the phone and it'd better be good because this was seriously disrupting his slumber.

"Hawkes, it's Mac." Mac's voice said.

"Mac?" This was pretty much the last person he was expecting to call him when he wasn't on call. Mac didn't make mistakes like this…did he? "Mac, did you get your timings mixed up? I'm not on call tonight."

"I didn't make a mistake Hawkes but I'm short-handed right now. Danny and Lindsay have gone missing and Flack thinks it might have something to do with this case I have down in the subway." Mac told him.

Hawkes took a moment to process the message through his sleep-deprived brain. He was wide awake very suddenly, "I'll be right there." He said into the phone and hung up.

Stella was much more surly and snappish than Hawkes was when Mac woke her up. Mac could almost see her scowling into the phone and knew he had to cut her off before she could yell at him, which would almost certainly be followed by her hanging up on him.

"I know you're not on call Stella," Mac said quickly, "And I know it's been one hell of a week and I agree; we all need to sleep some time. But the thing is, my two detectives who are on call have gone missing and it's highly likely that the perps of my case got to them. We don't know if they've been abducted or if they're dead but I need you and Hawkes down here ASAP."

That was more than enough to erase Stella's bad mood and she hung up after assuring Mac she would be there. It didn't take long for both detectives to arrive and get to work. Hawkes was still yawning widely but his eyes were definitely alert. Stella's hair was a mess and showed signs of having been haphazardly brushed through. Mac was waiting for them at the entrance of the subway when they finally came.

"Thanks for coming guys," Mac said sincerely.

"Are you kidding?" Stella shook her head, "I couldn't drive here fast enough. So what do we have?"

"We have their belongings in the bin, some surveillance tapes to run and the scene itself where the shooting actually happened. Flack's chasing after the vic, who could also possibly be a witness too. We also have a couple of uniforms checking out the area." Mac said. "I'll take the scene. Stella, you can handle their things and Hawkes, you run the tapes."

"You got it boss." Stella held up her kit and started walking to where Mac pointed while Hawkes went in search of the surveillance room.

To be continued...