Note: There is a cocktail recipe in this (teens please don't try it at home), but in true MacGyver style the non-alcoholic version is also included.

Feel free to leave feedback. I hope you enjoy!

-1994-

The Wingman Bar had been owned by the bartender who'd helped Jack Dalton find his mom Francine six years ago; five years later he'd died, but not before leaving the bar to Jack in his will.

The aviation-themed establishment was a great success, to the surprise of everyone who knew Dalton and his penchant for get-rich-quick schemes and long shots. Jack was finally in his element, mixing drinks and spinning tales of derring-do among the clouds that had to be at least partially true; the room was dark enough, after all, that no one could tell if his left eye was twitching or not.

"He looks like he's havin' fun," MacGyver noted to the petite, blue-eyed young woman behind the bar, busily wiping down glasses. Jack was perched at the end of the bar ensconced between two buxom blondes, both apparently enthralled by his exploits.

"Oh, yeah. Give him an audience and enough alcohol and he's happy as a clam. This place has actually been the best thing for him."

"And much safer than Dalton Air ever was," the 43-year-old troubleshooter chuckled to his 22-year-old niece.

"Becky, my dear!" Jack called out. "Please serve up three Mojitos for me and my friends while I tell them how your uncle and I were forced to parachute directly over Cuban airspace while locating a sunken Spanish galleon."

Jack spun his yarn, causing Mac to roll his eyes at some of the more incredible elements. "It didn't really happen that way, did it?" she quietly asked him while getting out three cold Highball glasses laden with lime juice, brown sugar and bruised mint leaves. "The way he talks, he was the one who saved the day while you were just along for the ride."

He grimaced. "I'll tell you the real story later." He watched her as she filled the glasses with ice, added Cuban Rum, and stirred the mixture. She then added 7-Up and garnished with mint sprigs. "You're gettin' good at this."

"Amazing, isn't it? And I don't even like to drink alcohol, same as you." She served the drinks, then wiped the bar surface down with a towel. "At least I make decent tips. Helps pay for college."

Over the next hour Jack continued his story and ordered another round. By the third round of Mojitos it had grown so elaborate that no one present could tell what was true and what was fabricated there on the spot.

"So there I was, hanging in the air 700 feet up by my parachute straps and wondering if the Cubans were going to fire their ground-to-air missiles and knock me out of the sky. Looking in the crystal clear waters of the Caribbean Sea, I could see five fathoms below the tall mast of the galleon Santa Maria de Guadeloupe, its fabled sunken treasure just within my grasp. I readied my SCUBA gear, pulled out my trusty pocketknife," Dalton said, practically standing straight up on the barstool and gesturing wildly, "cut the cord, then dove straight down into the water..."

And dove down he did, right off the stool onto the floor where he promptly passed out. The two blondes attempted to revive the pilot but soon gave up. With disgusted expressions they paid for their drinks and left the empty bar.

Mac looked over at his snoring friend. "Well, looks like he's down for the count. Finally it's quiet in here."

The young woman grinned. "Told you I had a plan, Unc. Here's the non-alcoholic version of the Mojito for the two of us, also called the Nojito." She pulled out two more Highball glasses from the fridge with the same mixture of lime juice, brown sugar and bruised mint leaves. She filled them with ice, stirred, then added club soda and mint sprigs for garnish.

Becky handed her uncle one of the virgin cocktails, saving the other for herself. "Here's to peace and quiet," she toasted.

"And to clever nieces," MacGyver smiled in return. They clinked their glasses together and enjoyed the refreshing drink.