AN: There is really no point to this. It's hopefully-cute, adorkable, nerdy romantic fluff. This is probably a high T rating, but I don't think it warrants an M rating – there's nothing here that's any more 'adult' than what we've seen/heard on the show. (In fact, I think it's slightly under that threshold.) But do let me know if you think it needs a rating change!
This is a missing scene from Not a Single Word, but I think it does stand alone quite well; you don't need to have read it. This probably fits into the universe of pretty much all of my multi-chap stories, actually – so as long as you've read one of them and thus know who Beth is and her relationship with Mac, it should make perfect sense. In fact, I think this works reasonably decently as an introduction to her and their relationship, even, so you could probably read it even if you haven't read anything else I've written.
MACGYVER'S RESIDENCE
LA
'…It's highly improbable, but it is possible.'
Mac, his feet up on the coffee table, leaned back a little against the back of the couch, a small smirk on his face as he took a sip of the delicious red wine in his glass.
(It was his second glass of this particular bottle, his third for the night counting the one he'd had at the nice-but-not-fancy restaurant he and Beth had had dinner at.)
What's the occasion, you ask?
Well, today is National Salami Day, but although salami is delicious, we weren't celebrating that.
We weren't celebrating anything, actually…but do I need an excuse to treat my girlfriend to a romantic dinner?
Besides, she has the next two and a half days off. For an ER doctor, that's a real luxury…and definitely worth a special plan or two.
Hey, just because I'm Mr Can-Do, according to Riley, doesn't mean I can't come up with a plan or two.
(He was pretty far from being drunk, but was feeling pleasantly warm and light…which, he supposed, couldn't be solely attributed to the wine.)
(The woman currently sitting with her legs across his lap, wearing an extremely flattering dress in a shade of burgundy that almost-exactly matched the wine they were sharing with three-quarter sleeves and a sweetheart neckline also deserved a substantial share of the credit.)
(Probably most of it, actually.)
Beth put down her wineglass on the coffee table absent-mindedly, looking sceptically and slightly-sheepishly at him.
'Your track record is excellent, Mac, but…really? Everyday usage of a kitchen sink can really lead to a near-cartoon-like spurt of water?'
He nodded, absent-mindedly tracing out the schematics for the plumbing in his kitchen sink on her thigh, just above her knee and just below the hem of her dress, with the hand that wasn't holding his wineglass, expression shifting into something that was part-smug-smirk, part-childlike-grin and part-besotted-smile.
'Yup.' He put down his wine on the coffee table, his smirk-grin-smile widening. 'Want a demonstration?'
Beth grinned brightly, eyes lighting up and clapping her hands together.
'How could I say anything other than of course?'
TEN MINUTES LATER
'…Well, I definitely see why this is highly, highly improbable.'
Mac chuckled as his girlfriend gave a wry smile, shifting a little and bending over more to get a better look at the entirely-possible-albeit-extremely-improbable sink blockage he'd constructed.
(The movement made the neckline of her dress shift somewhat…which in turn made his brain capacity drop somewhat.)
(He estimated it crudely to be at least 5%.)
TWO MINUTES LATER
5% might have been an underestimate.
And/or I might have overdone it on the wine.
And/or…well, I do make my share of mistakes.
You know how in the instant before something goes wrong, you sometimes realize that you've made a really big mistake?
This is one of those situations.
I really, really did not think this through.
There is a reason why Boze made me install localized shutoff valves for our water supply after my initial experiments regarding the plausibility of cartoon-style water spurts.
Mac scrabbled frantically for the shutoff valve for the kitchen sink, found it and closed it tightly, then ducked out from under the sink and brushed his wet hair off his face, jumping up so that he wasn't sitting in the puddle on the floor.
(Not that it'd make much difference, since his navy dress shirt and dark-grey slacks were already soaked through.)
He turned to his girlfriend, an apology on the tip of his tongue, since she was also completely soaked through.
…Which had caused the fabric of her dress to absolutely cling to her figure in a way that was absolutely terrible for his brain capacity but he absolutely could not be anything but grateful for at the exact same time.
They stared at each other for several beats, catching their breaths and their wits as best as they could (he was well aware that he was staring very, very appreciatively, and she was looking back at him just as appreciatively – sometimes, he really did not understand why she'd do that, but it was really gratifying, made a surge of very male pride flow through him), before she smiled wryly up at him, something amused and impressed and tender in her eyes.
'Well…you were definitely right.'
And with that, he completely forgot about apologizing, and instead took a half-step closer to her, reaching out a hand to carefully brush the wet tendrils of her hair that'd fallen over her face behind her ears. They stared at each other for a long, long moment, as she leaned into his touch, eyes flickering closed for a moment, both feeling that heat, that spark, build.
Mac took another half-step closer to her so they were mere inches apart, brushing a few stray droplets of water from her cheek.
'Why were we talking about kitchen sinks again?'
She reached up to brush her fingers lightly against his wrist.
'I don't remember…and frankly I don't care right now.'
Her smile was an odd (but very endearing and very her) blend of sheepish and seductive with a touch of shy.
He let his other hand fall to her waist, fingers stroking over the wet fabric of her dress. She gave a little shiver in response, and he smirked.
Two birds, one stone.
'Given the specific heat capacity of water, we should get you out of that dress.'
A very slight flush rose on her cheeks, and she ran her hand up his arm, from wrist to bicep, then over his shoulder and partway down his chest, settling it over his heart.
'The equivalent goes for you.' She brought up her other hand to poke him in the sternum, narrowing her eyes at him teasingly. 'I do not want to have to treat you for hypothermia!'
His smirk widened a little as he kept tracing the digits of Planck's constant (he was up to the 28th decimal place) over her waist and hip.
'I don't know…remove wet clothing, share body heat…sounds like it could be fun.'
She giggled, flattening both hands on his chest.
'Well, when you put it that way…'
She reached up and kissed him, and after a moment of allowing himself to just get lost in it, Mac gave a little grin against her mouth and quite literally swept her off her feet, picking her up bridal-style and walking towards his bedroom.
(There were things that he and Bozer were in firm agreement that they did not want to see, hear or know about.)
(Ergo, there were rules about the 'public' areas of their home.)
(Besides, he and Beth were in firm agreement that some things should be kept completely private, just between them.)
His girlfriend made a noise of protest as he picked her up, even as she reflexively grabbed his shoulders, and Mac shook his head, both fond and resolute.
(He'd known she'd react this way.)
'A, you're not heavy.' Beth shot him a look. 'That's not idle flattery; it's objective fact. B, sharing body heat, remember?' He held her a little closer to emphasise that. 'C, we're here already, so…'
Beth shook her head, the look in her eyes a mix of tenderness and heat, as he set her down gently just inside his bedroom, before reaching up to kiss him again, with that same mixture of affection and want.
When they broke for air, they stared at each other for a beat, before he ducked his head to kiss her again and backed her into the door to close it, deepening the kiss as he brought a hand up to start pulling the bobby pins from her hair as he felt her nimble fingers start undoing the buttons on his shirt.
LATER
'Mac?'
Lying in bed in pyjama pants but no shirt with his girlfriend (who was wearing the old MIT T-shirt that was the other half of his pyjamas), big spoon to her little spoon, Mac raised his head somewhat blearily in response, switching from tracing pi to phi on the skin of her hip.
'Hmm?'
'Err...we forgot about the kitchen sink. And the puddle on the floor.'
He groaned.
Okay, I admit that I'm probably several different kinds of crazy.
But I am not that crazy, or this particular kind of crazy.
I am not getting out of this bed except for an emergency.
Sorry Boze, but a temporarily-broken, almost-certainly-easily-fixable kitchen sink is not an emergency.
Beth gave a little laugh.
'Sorry, Mac.' A teasing note grew more prominent in her voice. 'But in my opinion, it was a very worthwhile distraction…'
He gave a little chuckle.
'Oh, definitely.' Mac pressed a kiss to her shoulder, absent-mindedly switching to drawing the molecular orbitals of benzene on her thigh. 'I'll fix it tomorrow.'
THE NEXT MORNING
'All fixed, we don't have to explain to Bozer-' Mac shut up immediately as he noticed his roommate, who was standing on the other side of the kitchen counter. 'Uh…morning, Boze.'
He and Beth, who was whisking the pancake batter, exchanged a glance, Mac feeling his ears burn slightly under his hair, Beth blushing a bit.
Bozer glanced between the two of them, then muttered to himself.
'I don't wanna know…'
The story as to how our kitchen sink was temporarily out of order doesn't actually violate any of the rules that Boze and I have.
Sure, it'll make him start teasing me for the weirdness of my romance game, but it really is roommate-safe.
The story as to why it didn't get fixed last night…that definitely breaks the rules.
So yeah, he probably doesn't want to know.
AN: Did you guys enjoy that? It was really fun to write, even if this level of 'romance novel'/'fade to black' is a bit out of my comfort zone. I know that Mac and Beth's relationship is really weird, but her characterization (and thus their relationship) was born out of the desire for Mac to have someone who understands, appreciates and loves his brain and the crazy, brilliant things it spits out. It is also heavily inspired by the Dr Suess quote about everyone being a little weird and meeting someone whose weirdness is compatible with yours and falling in mutual weirdness and calling it love. (Which is, incidentally, my favourite definition of love!) National Salami Day is apparently one of those real weird holidays. I thought about using Pi Day, but decided that Mac and Beth probably would actually celebrate that, so I picked something else that was weird but they wouldn't celebrate.
This will be the last thing from me for a couple of weeks, but I've got an epic-length story in the works! I'm writing a version of Season 3 while we wait for the real Season 3, like I did with Every End is a Beginning and Season 2! It will be titled The Path Not Taken and I'm hoping to have the first 'episode' posted by the 19th or 20th. Oh, and *hint, hint*…a certain doctor with an irrational love for pie and a giant collection of science-joke T-shirts might just feature if you're a fan…
