Author's Note:
While watching the episode "Jack of Lies", I just couldn't resist giving a go at trying to flesh out a little more of MacGyver's adventurous past. This is one humble attempt. It was inspired by that photograph that Mac found in Jack's strongbox, when he was looking for aerial charts.

Enjoy!
-Lothithil

Three Musketeers in Martinique

Mac's voice-over:
I've always been the kind of guy that likes to move around. Some people might like to think that I've got a problem committing myself to a permanent home and a steady job-- my college career advisor wrote me off as a lost cause after I switched my major six times-- but I like to think I'm just too curious to settle down doing the same thing all the time. There's too much to do in this life, too many things to see in this world... and I aim to do and see as much of it as I can.

I'm glad that I don't have to do it alone, though. Having good friends along makes any experience more pleasant and exciting. Having Jack and Mike as those friends doubles the sensation! But even as much fun as they are-- wild Jack Dalton and willful and witty Mike Forester-- there are times when I prefer a little solitude. That's why I took the night watch, with no more company that the blanket of stars overhead. There's nothing so spectacular as the sky on a clear night at sea.

Part One: The Pathos of Athos

MacGyver opened his eyes. He lay unmoving in his hammock; gently swaying with the roll of the boat, wondering what it had been that had awakened him. The bright Caribbean sun pried fingers of light through the cabin door, which someone had left ajar. Mac could hear the slap of the water against the hull and the rustle of sails in a teasing breeze. Perhaps that was what had woke him up.

By the fall of the light, it seemed to be near midday. That didn't concern MacGyver too much, as he had stayed up through the night and well into morning. Mike had come up onto the foredeck just as the sun was touching the horizon with roses, and together they had watched it rise on a new day. Only then had Mac stumbled down into the cabin, stepping over the snoring lump that was Jack in order to roll into his bunk and fall instantly asleep.

Mac wanted to go back to sleep, but his body clock refused to let him. Sighing, he dropped his legs over either side of the hammock and grabbed the beam overhead, pulling himself up easily. He lowered himself slowly, stretching his arms, and then raised himself smoothly into a set of pull-ups. His shoulders ached a little from pulling ropes and wrestling with the sails the day before. He set himself on his feet, rotating his shoulders. He'd only had a few hours of sleep, but he felt great and ready for anything.

Out on the aft deck he found Jack, lounging next to the unstepped rudder. He lifted one eyelid when Mac kicked his foot.

"I thought you were on watch, Dalton. What if we were beset by pirates while you were sleeping on duty?"

"The only pirates in these waters are the guys who rented us this boat," Dalton retorted amiably. He reached into an ice-chest and extracted a bottle of beer. "Do you know that they only stocked us with a case of that lame local brew? For as much as we paid for this sloop, ya'd think that they could have given us some good American beer."

"If you wanted to drink American beer, you should have stayed in America. And you didn't answer my first question: Why aren't you up on the foredeck?"

"Mutiny." Jack nodded forward and shrugged. "I wouldn't go up there if I were you, Mac. She's in a mood today."

Mac laughed at the sour look on Jack's face. "You didn't ask her to marry you again?"

Jack scoffed, his left eye twitching as he said, "No way! I'm the bachelor's bachelor and that's never gonna change! Only suckers and mama's-boys go for that matrimonial nonsense."

Mac waved him off and walked forward, ducking under the boom. Sails were draped over the pole and billowing around, obscuring the foredeck completely. Grumbling at such an untidy array, Mac reached out and caught the mainsail, intending to tie it down neatly as it should be, when he caught a glimpse beyond of a body-- a very female body-- sunbathing. Blushing fiercely, he dropped the canvas and turned away.

"Morning, MacGyver."

Mac was intensely interested in a point on the horizon, far out to sea. "Ah! Good morning, Mike. I was just... er, I thought that the sails were... I didn't know you were..."

"It's all right... you can come up now. I'm decent." The mainsail was pushed aside as Mike came down-- Michelle Forester preferred for her friends to call her 'Mike'-- now wearing practical neoprene swimwear. She grinned at her friend. "You can wipe that silly grin off of your face, mister."

"Sorry." Mac couldn't stop smiling if he wanted to. He stepped up onto the foredeck. "Tired of tan lines? Or did you just decide to put Jack's and my self-control to the ultimate test?"

Mike laughed. "I'm not worried about you two. The only thing that Jack's interested in is finding a sunken treasure ship, and you're too shy. Besides, if I go back home with tan lines, nobody will believe that we were in the Caribbean."

"We'll have pictures taken," Mac said. Mike helped him tie up all the sails she had used to create some privacy. "You ready to do some diving today?"

"Sure I am." Mike nodded toward the pile of equipment lying on the deck; fins, breathing apparatus, and facemasks. "I've just been waiting around for you, lazybones. I thought you were going to sleep away the rest of your life!" Mike swatted at Mac playfully, smacking him on the shoulder with her palm. "I call first dive!"

"Hey!" Mac half-ducked away from the blow. "What about Jack? I thought this was his treasure hunt."

"He's already been down today," Mike said, sorting through the equipment.

Mac then noticed a tank and gear set aside, still damp from use. "He went down alone? Jack!" Mac turned angrily toward the rear of the boat. "Jack! You went diving alone? Are you nuts?"

"What?" Jack's head popped into view, peering over the boom. "I wasn't alone. I had my buddy with me." He held up a large knife. The sun gleamed off of the sharp edge.

Mac shook his head in disbelief. "I don't know what I'm gonna do with you, Jack. How careless can you be?"

"Don't you want to know what I found?" asked Jack, mischief gleaming in his eyes.

"You're lucky you didn't find a tiger shark," Mac retorted, reaching for his own gear. "Or a jelly-fish swarm. These waters are full of dangers."

Jack was unintimidated. "That's why I was really, really careful. Contrary to popular belief, I can exercise some degree of caution."

"Really?" Mac said, with more than a touch of sarcasm. "Then how come I've never seen you exercise any?"

"It's not as much fun," Jack said, grinning wolfishly. "Quit being such a mother-hen and get into your gear, before your diving partner takes off without you!"

Mac shook his head and laughed. It was impossible to stay angry at Jack Dalton. "Are you coming in, too?"

"Later. I'll stay up here and watch your bubbles. Maybe I'll spot me a mermaid."

Mac noticed Jack watching Mike out of the corner of his eye and decided to be diplomatic and not comment on it. Instead, he said, "Keep an eye out for sharks."

"And what am I supposed to do if I see any... throw beer bottles at them?"

"Just don't drain all the bottles by your self." Mac shouldered on his tank and strapped his diving knife to his forearm. Adjusting his mask, he looked over at Mike. "You ready?"

Mike responded by placing her breathing regulator in her mouth and falling over backwards with a terrific splash.

Mac followed her into the shining waters.

Part Two: Aramis, the Mission City Mermaid

Mac's Voice-over:
When I was a kid, I loved the outdoors... camping, fishing, and hiking through the thick green woods and mountains of Northern Minnesota. I spent a lot of my time on the many lakes near where I grew up. Granted, I spent most of my time above them, with a pair of ice skates laced to my feet and a hockey stick in my hands. But not one of the ten thousand lakes of my native land was anything like the shimmering waters in which I found myself today.

The Caribbean sun filters down through shallow waters and lights up the reefs and coral beds in a colorful array of weird animal and plant life. I usually wear a wet suit when I go scuba diving, but here there seemed little need for such protection. The water got no deeper than twenty or so feet, and was usually a popular place for snorkeling and free diving. My friends and I prefer to use an air-tank so that we can stay down longer, really get to explore the reefs and swim with the schools of fish that come right up to us, unafraid and as curious as any human. It's like being in a whole new world, a silent world suspended between darkness and light. It's also a hostile world, where air is precious and water as deadly as it is beautiful. One could argue that it is that very danger that makes the experience an adventure.

MacGyver took a moment to orient himself. The hull of the boat was above, throwing a shadow down through the clear water. He saw Mike below, swimming downward with the fluid grace of mermaid. Mac dove after her, kicking his finned feet rapidly in a vain attempt to catch her.

She waited for him near the sandy bottom. As he came closer, Mac could see her eyes smiling behind her facemask. She signaled for him to swim beside her, and together they worked their way toward the gnarled tangle of dark green and blue that slowly resolved itself into the coral reef.

A swarm of flat yellow fish flashed away as they swam along. Mac lost himself it the beauty of the world around them, and was surprised when Mike turned toward him and pointed upward. Mac glanced at his oxygen level indicator and saw that it was nearly depleted. They had spent more than an hour swimming and exploring; it was time to surface.

Mike waited for Mac's nod of acknowledgment before she pushed off toward the surface. Sand swirled up from the seabed and something glimmered in the muck, catching Mac's attention. He bent down, sifting through the soil with his fingers. The disturbance caused clouds of silt to rise into the water, temporarily limiting Mac's vision. But what he thought might have been a silvery coin or a piece of mother-of-pearl turned out to be a metal ring securely fastened to something buried under the sand. He pulled on it, but it didn't move.

A knotted bulge of coral rose nearby. Mac worked carefully to avoid tearing his skin on the razor-sharp spires. After digging for a while he found the edges of what appeared to be a trap-door, right in the seabed. Puzzled, Mac placed one foot on the reef and yanked again on the handle, even though he was sure it would be futile.

To his surprise, it yielded. Too easily, sending him off-balance. His foot slipped into the hole that had been covered by a thick metal door, and that heavy door settled painfully down, pinning his leg. Struggling to free himself, Mac brushed against the coral.

Bubbles exploded around him, further stirring up the soil and clouding the water. Mac suddenly couldn't breathe. He grabbed his rebreather and found that the hose was severed, his precious air leaking out into the water.

Darkness was already beginning to edge into his vision as he pulled desperately to free himself. Fighting the urge to inhale, he groped at his belt for a diver's balloon, to signal his friends that he was in trouble and to help them find him. He paused before he triggered the inflatable, thinking fast. He bent down, carefully wedging the balloon into the crack where his leg was stuck, and pulled the pin.

The balloon inflated quickly, filling with CO2. The heavy lid shifted only slightly, but Mac took advantage of that, losing a few layers of skin but managing to pull himself free. The balloon streaked out of his fingers and upward toward the surface. Mac tried to follow but his limbs were heavy and stiff. He needed to breath and all the air was out of reach. He clawed his way upward, but he felt as if he were sinking instead, into increasingly darkening waters.

An arm encircled his chest and something was shoved into his mouth. Bubbles burst into his throat and nose, and he instinctively inhaled the sweet air. He took a breath, and another, and another, before the thing was taken from him.

The waters were still cloudy. Mac couldn't see, but he could feel someone loosening the tanks strapped to his back and his diving weights. Hands grabbed him under the arms and he was pulled upward, rising quickly above the cloudy waters that almost had become his grave. Then he could see.

Jack grinned at him, eyebrows wiggling behind his mask. He took the rebreather from his mouth and passed it to Mac, who gratefully took another healthy burst of air. They rose through the water together toward the dark belly of their boat. Mike's shadow rippled on the water above, watching for their return.

Mac offered the mouthpiece to Jack, but his friend shook his head, refusing. Mac took another breath, feeling strength return to his limbs in some measure. In spite of the stinging pain in his leg he kicked out, speeding their ascent.

Mike's silhouette moved rapidly above; she was clearly very agitated. Mac swam harder, but his lungs were still burning from holding his breath for so long, and his arms and legs were becoming quickly leaden. Jack held him strongly and pulled him upward, his own movements becoming increasingly urgent.

Mac didn't realize that they weren't alone in the water until he saw something large pass very close to them. Pure terror swept the cobwebs from his mind. There were sharks in the water around them!

Jack turned and leveled something at the marine predator, and suddenly the beast swam away, a cloudy red trail following it like smoke. Other swimming bodies arrowed toward the wounded beast. Mac felt himself pushed hard upward. The mouthpiece was torn from him as he rose swiftly, his head breaking the surface right beside the boat. He reached out and grabbed the gunwale, hoisting himself up as high as his adrenaline-filled body could manage.

Mike caught his arms and pulled with all her strength. Mac came up over the edge and they tumbled together into a pile on the deck. Water streaming from his nose and mouth, Mac heard Mike screaming, "-Jack? Where is he, MacGyver? Where's Jack?"

Epilogue: Porthos, the Pirate King

"Over here!" came the familiar voice of their friend Jack. He had surfaced at the stern of the boat, hauled himself out of the water and gone straight for the beer chest. He sat down and put up his feet, resting the spent harpoon gun across his legs. Using his teeth, he pried to cap off of the beer bottle and took a long drink. "Aaaah! This local stuff tastes better with a touch of salt, don't you know?"

Mike sighed sharply. "Jack! You scared the life out of me! And you!" She turned and swatted Mac between the shoulder blades. "You were supposed to be right behind me!"

Mac raised his arms as if to ward off her attack. "Sorry, Mike. Curiosity got the better of me. Thanks for sending down the cavalry!" Mike threw her arms around him and buried her face in his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her, laying his head on the top of her damp hair. "Thanks," he repeated earnestly. He felt her mumble against his bare chest.

Mac walked over and stood in front of Jack. "Thanks for saving my skin, man. I owe you one."

"What's left of your skin, you mean." Jack pointed at Mac's leg, streaked with blood. "I couldn't just leave you for shark-bait, after all."

Mike released Mac and went to kneel down beside Jack. She wrapped her arms around his neck and planting a big kiss on his face. "Yeah. Thanks, Jack."

Jack winked at Mac, his face flushing beet-red as Mike kissed him again. "Forget about it. What are friends for?"

Mac smiled as he watched his friends. There's no adventure like the company of good friends, he thought to himself. He was smiling, even though a part of him was twinging mildly with jealousy. Friendship was too precious to throw away on feelings of insecurity. He dismissed his discomfort and pushed Jack's foot off of the beer chest.

"I got the last one, sorry old chum," Jack said, waving the empty bottle.

"I just want some ice, thanks anyway," Mac said dryly. He sat down and inspected the scratches on his leg, pressing a handful of cubes against his skin.

Mike abandoned Jack and fetched out a first aid kit. As she carefully cleaned and bandaged his wound for him, Mac glanced up to see a familiar expression of envy on Jack's face. He chuckled, at Jack and at himself.

"What's so funny?" asked Mike, as she finished taping his bandage in place.

"Nothing. Not a thing. Where are we going next?" Mac wiggled his toes as if to show he was good as new.

"Going?" Jack spluttered. "What about my sunken treasure? What did you find down there, anyway?"

"It was just an empty old airplane cargo compartment. I'm afraid that your Spanish treasure is nothing more than sunken junk, Jack. But look on the bright side..."

"What bright side?" Jack asked despondently, his dreams of wealth drained out of him.

"We'll all have a great tan when we get to Madrid in time to see the running of the bulls."

Jack's eyes got big as he thought it over. "Spanish ladies in black lace... orange-flavored liquor over ice... sounds great! When do we leave?"

Mike stood up straight and planted her fists on her hips. "Madrid? I thought we were going to Greece next?"

"It's on the way... let's draw up the anchor! We can get back to Martinique before sunset if we can catch some of this wind. Come on, Mac... get those sails up where they can do some good. Hustle, you two!"

"Aye, aye, Captain Bligh," Mac said dryly as Mike began to laugh.

"I'll give you a hand, Mac," she said as she worked beside him. "We need to get back to shore and find someone with a camera."