Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of "CSI:NY" they belong to Anthony E. Zuiker and CBS.

Author's Note: For Marty Pino, and iPod Shuffle Challenge for the man I'd rather remember him as.

"Girls of Summer" (1)

"That's what I'm talkin' about," Marty Pino said, a beer in one hand, his trusty Giants jersey untucked from his jeans. He leaned against the bar next to Hawkes and Danny. "The brunette in the middle? HOT."

"Anything with two legs is hot to you," Danny retorted. "The one you hit on last week was a guy."

"He was hot," Marty replied, not missing a beat.

"Oh God," Hawkes groaned. "That's sick, man. That's sick."

Marty couldn't take his eyes off the brunette. "Think I got a chance?"

"If you can pick up a man," Danny teased. "Then she should be no problem."

Marty nodded, and before his companions could say anything, he was talking to the girl in the white tank and cutoffs. "I'm Marty. Can I buy you a drink?"

"You can," she said.

"I didn't get your name?"

She smiled. "Annabelle."

"My Private Movie" (2)

He twisted the ring on his finger as he waited in the hotel hot tub. Six hours. Six hours ago he'd married the woman of his dreams. Annabelle had looked amazing coming up the aisle on Sid Hammerback's arm. He didn't remember the vows. He barely remembered the reception. All he could think about was the beautiful woman who'd stood across from him all night. Mrs. Marty Pino.

The bathroom door opened, and she came out in a lacy Victoria's Secret number. He swore. "God."

"You like it?" Annabelle asked. "Was a bachelorette party gift from Mrs. Hammerback."

"She's got great taste," Marty choked out.

She smiled as she undid the strap and let it slide off her shoulders.

Marty's temperature rose about ten degrees. "D-did it get a lot hotter in here?" he breathed.

She slowly walked over. Marty watched her climb into the hot tub in slow motion, freeze-framed the moment she nestled against him in the water and the bubbles. "I love you, Mr. Pino."

He sighed. "The End," he said as the world faded away.

"These Boots Were Made For Walking" (3)

The only time Marty Pino had ever been on a horse was when he was six and went on the ponies at the Children's Zoo. But there was no way he'd have turned down Annabelle's request for a trip to Wyoming. He'd always wanted to see the mountains, he wanted an excuse to get out of New York City for a while...and he couldn't wait to see her in a pair of Wranglers!

"Baby!" he yelled into the bathroom. "Come on, they're gonna leave without us!"

Then she stepped out of the bathroom. Every cowgirl fantasy Marty had been thinking about paled in comparison. She filled out the dark Wrangler jeans quite nicely. She wore a blue Western-style shirt tied over a white tanktop. Marty followed her jeans down to a pair of white cowboy boots.

"Damn, he muttered. "On second thought...let's have our own trail ride right here."

"Sold (The Grundy County Auction Incident) (4)

"You guys don't get it," Marty told Danny and Hawkes. "Annabelle is...God, she's everything I've ever wanted. She's got a great body, a hell of a smile...killer eyes-"

"A lady of substance," Danny cut in with a grin.

"Says the guy who used to rate girls on a sexiness scale based on the Maxim cover," Marty shot back, and Hawkes burst out laughing. "But she's more than that...she's got a good sense of humor...a great job, a great personality." He shook his head. "I'm sold."

"With You" (5)

He looked stressed. He was also home late. Annabelle Pino could tell in an instant that Marty had had a really rough day at the lab. "Hi, baby," she greeted him as he came through the door, his Giants jersey balled up in his hands. He didn't say anything right away, just went straight to the fridge and grabbed a beer, then settled down on the couch. Annabelle came in and sat down next to him, started massaging his shoulders. "I think you and I need to get away for a while," she said. "We've both had a rough week."

"More like a rough month," Marty sighed. He closed his eyes. "I could definitely use a vacation."

Annabelle got up and grabbed the phone off the cradle. She dialed. "Who're you calling?" Marty asked her.

She smiled. "Sid. To tell him you won't be in to work next week."

"Christmas in Dixie" (6)

Snow in New York City just wasn't the same, Marty admitted as he looked off the porch of the ski lodge. For a few moments, he contemplated telling Sid that he wasn't coming back to work, that he was permanently moving to Vermont, and spending the rest of his life rolling in the snow with his wife.

She came out to join him, wearing a white Columbia ski jacket, pink Columbia ski pants, a pink Pepsi-Cola beanie and her pink snow boots. "Ready to hit the slopes?" she asked him, handing him his sunglasses and a Styrofoam cup of Starbucks.

"Do I have to?" he begged. "I'd rather stay in and not make a fool of myself."

She smiled. "But you look so sexy in your ski pants."

He put his sunglasses on and downed half the coffee. "Okay, I'm ready."

"Heaven Bound (I'm Ready)" (7)

The day was crawling. Marty swore the clock hands had stopped twice in the last hour. He'd finished with his last customer of the day. All his equipment was put away. His scrubs were in the laundry. He'd changed into jeans. Now he stared at the clock. It was two minutes to five. His wife was waiting for him at home for the first anniversary. All she'd told him when he called her at noon was that she "had a surprise for him that was going to blow his mind."

He hadn't been able to think about work all day.

Sid Hammerback came out from the bathroom, caught him eyeing the clock, knew it was his anniversary. "All right already, get out of here!" he commanded.

Marty didn't even look back.

"Annie Devine" (8)

Marty hated Las Vegas.

It seemed weird to say, to hate the Strip, the Casinos, the palm trees, the hot weather. But all he'd seen for the past two days was the inside of the airport. In town for a conference, his flight home was supposed to have left Monday. Now it was Tuesday night, and he was stuck in the Vegas airport. Annabelle was waiting for him. She was pissed he wasn't home. He was too.

He looked outside. A semi trailer was parked just outside the entrance to the airport. It was cool, blue, with a big silhouette of the Statue of Liberty on the side, and an American Flag stenciled onto the trailer-

The Statue of Liberty? Marty shouldered his carry-on and stepped out into the thunderstorm. "Hey!" he yelled to the driver, who was checking his tires. "You headed East?"

He nodded. "Yeah!"

Marty whipped out his wallet. "I will give you a hundred bucks if I can hitch a ride back to New York with you."

The driver looked at him like he was nuts. But then he nodded. "Okay. Get in!"

"She's My Girl (9)"

Marty loved going out with his wife. Annabelle was a knockout. He was so proud to call her his wife. So as they stepped into the club on 177th, he saw a lot of guys rubbernecking as they came in. And they had reason to. Annabelle was wearing skinny jeans, red high heels, and a red sparkly sleeveless top. Her hair was loose around her shoulders. I've got her all to myself, Marty knew, because Annabelle wouldn't even look at anyone else in that place. Half the time, she couldn't understand why everyone stared.

They came up to the bar. One guy started hitting on her. Annabelle's response was to inch into Marty's lap and order a sex on the beach, running kisses down his neck.

Marty grinned at the guy. "She's with me," he said, and waved the guy away.

"Agony" (10)

It hurt. God, it hurt so much. He hated how disappointed she was in him. What he'd become. "Annie," he begged. "Please don't do this!"

"If you go, they'll kill you!" Annabelle replied. "Let me try to talk to them."

"You're crazy. I can't let you do this," he said. But he knew. He knew, that every protest he'd make wouldn't matter.

Because she would go.

And he would let her.

He didn't have the strength to tell her no.

"I love you," Annabelle told him, giving him a kiss. Then she shouldered her purse and went to answer the door.

That was the last time he saw her alive.