***I wrote this to process some RL crap. I wasn't going to publish it, and it probably sucks, but hey serious emotional whump, right? Gotta be worth something. LOL The timeline is also a little fudged. We know Mac was only 16 or 17 when he started MIT, I kinda hope he was a little older ortherwise this plot would be...well wrong somehow. Thanks for reading.
Mac stared out the window. Jack eyed him worried.
"You ok, bud." Jack winced. Of course the kid isn't ok. Who could be ok when they're on the way to identify a body? Mac sighed and gave Jack a half smile and nodded. It was his way of letting Jack know he understood what Jack meant.
"So who is this Lilly again?" Jack asked his voice husky as he quieted it. Mac sighed.
"Lizzy, we were close, a long time ago." Mac again stared into space. Jack frowned. Even Bozer had never heard of this woman. The look in Mac's face was as bad as when Nikki shot him, but Mac kept it in with a tighter control. Jack and the others were worried.
"When were you together?" Mac rubbed his forehead. He had a hell of a headache. He didn't want to deal with this. Jack kept looking at him waiting. Mac sighed.
"I met her my first year at MIT." Mac whispered. He really didn't want to dig this up all over again.
"You dated?" Mac grimaced.
"Off and on." Jack frowned. Mac was disseminating. He hadn't hedged this much when talking about Frankie. For Jack that translated as an open wound Mac didn't want to revisit. Before Jack could think of a way to pry Mac open, they arrived at the San Francisco police department. Mac didn't pause he undid his seatbelt and hopped out of the car before Jack turned off the rental. He had to jog to catch up to his friend. Mac didn't seem to notice. He passed through the metal detector having to leave his Swiss army knife. Jack had to check in his Barreta. Mac disappeared into the bowels of the police department as Jack filled out the paperwork and showed his credentials. Jack gritted his teeth with impatience.
It wasn't hard to find the Morgue. It never was. Mac thought grimly. They were always in the untravelled grimy part of the building, usually the basement. The hall way could have been as clean and brightly lit as a hospital and it would still feel dirty. Mac wrinkled at the familiar rotten smell of death and chemicals. He stopped at the window.
"I'm Angus MacGyver, I'm here to identify a body?" The man in blue scrubs nodded. His wrinkled face held too much sadness.
"The suicide?" The air suddenly left the room. Suicide?
"I don't know." Mac muttered. God, I hope not. Mac ran a shaking hand through his hair. The man nodded pulled a file out of a shelf on the desk and waved at him to go through a set of double doors. Mac found himself walking slower and slower. He didn't want to be here. Maybe it wasn't Lizzy. Maybe she was still happy with...what's his name? Mac was playing games with himself. He could never forget the name Mathew Grant. Mac swallowed down familiar old pain, it tasted like bile. The man opened a refrigerator and slid out a covered body. Mac absently wondered how they would get bodies out of the top row of refrigerators. He glanced up and studied a system of pulleys. Mac closed his eyes. Anything but look, let it be anyone but Lizzy. The man beside him shuffled and cleared his throat.
Other than the unnatural grey white, she looked the same. Mac reached out an ran her honey flaxen hair through his fingers. He closed his eyes. It was brittle, lifeless not like the strands of gold that seemed to sparkle when ever she moved. Mac was glad her eyes were closed. He wanted to remember them leaf green and alive, crinkling at the edges when she laughed. Mac smiled sadly. They had laughed a lot, for awhile at least. He held her hand. Her nails were as long as they always were, rediculously impractical in the lab, and her nail polish was chipped, bitten. It used to drive him crazy. He nodded putting the hand back and cleared his throat.
"How did she die?" He asked his voice much calmer than he felt. The man across him almost showed sympathy. Mac thought of how many times he'd done this and wondered why on earth would anyone want that job.
"Overdose of medications, mixed with dranno and antifreeze." Mac raised an eyebrow. No doubt she was serious. Any one of those would be enough to kill someone, but all together. At MIT Lizzy's concentration had been chemistry. Mac could see her with hair tied back in a pony tail wearing goggles biting her bottom lip as she carefully poured liquids through a pipet. Mac rubbed his eyes and saw the same picture only with her mixing a cocktail to end her life.
"Why?"
"Why does anyone?" The man said with a shrug. Mac jumped. He didn't realize he'd spoken out loud. He cleared his throat.
"Is her husband or father going to claim the body?" The man frowned and flipped through the folder in his hand. He shook his head.
"There's no one listed as family except you." Mac's eyes threated to over flow. He nodded his jaw clenching. "I assume you have a funeral home you want to use?" Mac stared at him blankly. Funeral home? Mac had been to funerals, a lot of funerals but he'd never had to plan one. He had no idea.
"Why don't we do the paperwork and we can send the information to you later?" Jack said at his elbow. Mac felt as if Jack was carrying him wounded off a battlefield. Mac brushed at a tear that escaped. The man nodded. Everything became a blur of papers, instructions and information thrown at him that didn't register. Jack managed all of it, fielding questions Mac would never have thought to ask. Mac was dimly aware of walking then Jack's car. He had no idea where they were or where they were going. Jack reached over and put a hand on the back of his neck. Mac looked out the passenger's window suddenly exhausted.
Somehow they ended up at the beach. Mac leaned his head in his crossed hands hanging off his knees. Jack sat quietly beside him. It was late enough in the day only body surfers and couples walked along the rolling waves. Mac closed his eyes feeling the wind rustle his hair. In his imagination it was her fingers. For some reason she loved to run her hands through his hair. Mac smiled at the memory. Not that he minded, it was a simple intimate gesture that carried all of their moments where they...Mac rubbed his face a little surprise to find his cheeks wet.
"We weren't family." Mac jumped at his own voice. Where had that come from?
"Obviously, she thought you were." Jack said. Mac looked away closing his eyes.
"We were going to be." Mac's voice almost vanished in the tumble of the waves. Jack's eyes widened. Mac glanced at him and managed a small smile.
"You were going to marry her?" Mac looked out at the long blue curved horizon. He nodded. Jack waited for Mac to let it go at his own pace.
"We were both the same age. We met the first day of MIT...Jack she was so smart…" Mac looked far away seeing the long registration line. She'd worn a green sweater and jeans. She could have been wearing a billion dollar jeweled designer dress and she wouldn't have been more beautiful. The way she looked at him part mischief part flirting. Mac remembered he'd turned red and hot as an oven's burner. Somehow she saw past his awkwardness, saw the true him. Other than Bozer she was the first one who ever did. Mac looked down and picked at a hang nail. "She was my first…" Lover? Love? Everything? Mac dabbed at the steady stream of tears.
"Oh, brother I am so sorry." Jack said putting a hand on the juncture of Mac's shoulder and neck. Mac nodded and sniffed. He stood up and started walking. Jack didn't say anything only kept in step with him. He didn't pressure Mac to talk, only remained a steady presence. Mac shot Jack a grateful smile.
"Thanks for coming, I didn't…" Mac shrugged having no idea what he was going to say. Everything was whirling in his head-memories, feelings...anything except what he needed logic, steps, something solid. Jack put his arms across Mac's shoulder and pulled him in for a quick hug.
"Always, bro." Jack paused wanting to ask, but hesitating. Mac sighed.
"You want to know why you and Bozer never heard about her?" Jack nodded.
"Me I get, I mean you never talked about Frankie until she died...uh, fake died. You know what I mean. But why not Bozer?" Mac's jaw clenched and his face scrunched in pain. Jack regretted asking.
"I guess...It...I guess it hurt too much." Mac sighed his shoulders slumped. He let it go. "My sophmore year...I was getting antsy, unfocussed. I didn't know it then, but I wanted something...I don't know, I guess to help people more, something more practical? I thought it was Lizzy." Mac stopped and looked out to the swaying ocean. He watched a seagull glide overhead. For some reason, it made him cry more.
"She didn't?" Mac smiled and wiped his face again.
"Oh, she did. We were excited to be a family, just the two of us…" Mac's face darkened and Jack could see a slow burning anger ignite in the kid's sky blue eyes. Mac swallowed and glanced at Jack then looked away. "Her family was old money. In their circles, status was everything. And I…" Mac shrugged.
"You were from the wrong side of the tracks?" Jack growled.
"Something like that. I was there on scholarship. I had no real roots, no name that meant anything...they didn't want me to ruin their daughter's life." Jack looked like he wanted to punch someone in the face. Mac smiled at his partner's loyalty. He nudged Jack with his elbow and kept walking. "They had the perfect partner picked out, a Mathew Grant. He was a senior at Harvard and worked his father in a hedge fund law firm." Jack scowled looking like he'd just eated a raw worm.
"That's disgusting." Mac laughed and nodded in agreement, "so they forced Lizzy to marry this Mathew guy?" Jack guessed. Mac closed his eyes and grimaced. Jack could see they were coming to the deepest part of the open wound. Jack stopped and looked at Mac worried. Mac shook his head and met his friend's gaze with eyes that were at once young and old.
"No, she chose him." Mac wiped his face. The sun had started to creep down to the horizon. The cloudless sky above was tinged with a clear peach. Mac shrugged. "She left school to marry him and I went into the army." Mac turned and headed back to the rental slamming the door shut. Jack frowned then followed at a slower pace. By the time Jack reached the car, Mac was sitting in the passenger's seat reading through the paper work the coroner had given them. The kid had his game face on, gone was the exposed emotion. Jack knew Mac considered his grieving done and focused his attention on the practical details of dealing with the body. Jack sighed knowing Mac wasn't remotely near dealing with the fall out from all this. Jack pulled into traffic noticing Mac looking at the paperwork puzzled.
"What?" He asked. Mac frowned and looked up at the older man.
"I don't understand why her father and husband weren't listed as next of kin. I mean we were close, but that was over ten years ago." Jack smiled.
"Maybe we should ask them?" Mac looked up with a raised eyebrow and slowly shared Jack's smile. He might have been a young kid at the time, but he was an adult now and this time he wouldn't just slink away.
"So who first? The dickhead she married or daddy dearest?" Jack asked pulling out his phone to call Riley to make arrangements for a late flight to Boston.
Xxx xxx xxx
The Elengton was a sprawling mansion in the elite town of Nantucket, Massachusets. Jack felt his skin itch as they passed houses that had to cost millions of dollars. He felt like he'd shown up at the President's wedding wearing a jock strap. He glanced over at Mac. Mac as usual looked like he belonged anywhere he went. Jack smiled. He and Thornton had been instrumental in teaching Mac the trade craft of being an operator, but the kid came prewired, born to do the job. Jack scowled remembering all the trauma that had given him the ability to pidgeon hole feelings a skill needed to be a chameleon. Jack looked over and saw Mac looking at him with a knowing smile.
"You ok there Jack?" The hint of teasing in his voice told Jack Mac knew exactly what he was thinking and how he felt. Jack tipped up his chin as they approached the ornate steel gates at the end of a long and winding drive.
"I'm just thinking how punchworthy a guy is for naming his house." Mac chuckled and nodded.
"Yeah, no one likes naming where they live, how's your grandparent's?" Jack glared at Mac as if the kid had spit in his pie.
"Now that's different, that's a ranch. A ranch earns it's name, it works hard, produces something. This…" Jack waved at the oppulent main building resting on an acre of perfectly manicured thick green lawn. "This is pernicious."
"I think you mean presumtious, but yeah I agree." Mac's voice saddened. A wannabe cop with gold braids draped over the shoulders of an oversized green uniform removed his white hat and held it in his white gloves.
"May I ask the reason for your visit to Elegton manor?" Jack glanced at Mac eyebrow raised. Mac nodded but kept his face schooled.
"I would like to speak to Earnest Bowling." Mac said leaning over to speak out the window.
"In reference to what?" The man asked.
"His daughter, Lizzy." For the first time, the man looked uncomfortable. He nodded and strode back to a classically decorated guard station. Mac narrowed his eyes and glanced at Jack. Jack gritted his teeth.
"Gotta tell ya, Mac. I'm kinda glad these aren't your in-laws." Mac snorted.
"Me too." The guard skipped back to the car as if he'd walked in dog poop.
"I regret to inform you, the Missus and Mister have no idea of whom you are referring to and would like you to exit the premises forewith." Jack looked at Mac with disbelief. Mac opened his mouth too late to stop Jack's reaction. Moving too fast for the guard to process, Jack was out of the car, grabbing the man by his braids and slamming him against the steel gate. Mac rolled his eyes and climbed out. Mac was just as furious but knew it wasn't the guard's fault. Even if he was a pompous ass that looked like he'd escaped from the Emerald City.
"Allright, green boy, you tell that asshat that we need to talk to him about why he dumped his little girl to rot in the LAPD morgue." Jack gritted. The man's eyes were wide with fear.
"I didn't dump her anywhere." A new voice said. Jack dropped his hold on the gatesman. The man scurried away.
"I'm sorry, sir…" The man babbled. Earnest Bowling was clearly a man used to others kissing his ass. Jack didn't like him. He rode in a golf cart dressed as if he were a model for Polo gear. His silver hair looked shellacked back like wings and his eyes were souless moldy stones. His mouth tightened, his lips disappearing in the fold as he recognized MacGyver. Mac strolled up to the gate and stood directly across from the man meeting his gaze without any sign of being intimidated. Jack smiled and stepped back. He could feel Mac's anger coil around hiim. No one else would ever notice it, but it came out methodically usually as he was building a gadget to blow the shit out of someone.
"Earnest." Mac said. His voice was respectful but with Bowling's expression Mac might just well have spit in the man's face. Jack had no doubt the man was use to 'sir' or 'Mr. Bowling' hell maybe even 'your highness.'
"Angus." The man growled. He flung it at Mac like an insult. Mac didn't notice.
"I went to identify Lizzy'z body…"
"ELIZABETH is no longer our problem nor is she yours." Earnest narrowed his eyes at Mac. Jack watched Mac's hands form tight fists. Jack was pissed too. He stepped forward.
"So tell me Earnie, do all rich assholes dump their kid or is it just you?" The man's face turned a deep shade of red. Jack smiled at him as if he'd given the older man the highest compliment. Mac tried to hide his amusement. Bowling smiled, his teeth sticking out in uneven rows like a crocodile. "Obviously not." He said pointedly staring into Mac's eyes. The innuendo was obvious. Mac flinched but recovered almost instantly. Jack made his own fists and stepped forward. Without breaking his stare into Bowling's eyes, Mac managed to grab Jack's arm and reel in his friend's protective rage. Jack glanced at Mac and frowned. The kid's face was unreadable, completly blank of any emotion. Even Jack couldn't tell what Mac was feeling. He didn't like it one bit.
"C'mon Mac lets get out of here, this Bozo…"
"This is none of your business you worthless hillbilly." Bowling growled angling his head back and literally looking down his nose at Jack. Jack's fist wanted to redesign that beak in the worst way. His arm twitched with the impulse.
"What happened? She did everything you wanted her to, why did you cut her off?" Mac's voice was soft and tight with pain. Bowling glared at him then spun the wheel on the golf cart. Before taking off, the older man shook his head and stared at Mac his mouth working a long time before he could spit out words.
"What do you want, Angus? Your place isn't here, it never has been." The man's cold voice broke through where his beligerence couldn't. Mac's jaw clenched as his eyes wettened.
"She listed me as her only next of kin, so I guess she thought I belong here." Mac answered back in the same tone. Bowling laughed and shook his head.
"You don't know shit, boy. She was crazy. This was her last way to get back at you for abanoning her so don't be so sanctimonius." The man jerked as he stomped the pedal. Before he went twenty feet, Mac called to him.
"Do you had any input for Lizzy's funeral?" Bowling waved over his shoulder.
"It's all on you, boy. If you hadn't stuck your nose in…this is all on you." Mac blinked in surprise. He stepped up to the bars of the gate and opened his mouth to yell, but Bowling was already out of sight. Mac sighed and leaned his head against the sharp metal. He glanced at Jack. Jack frowned not understanding the expression on his partner's face. His face seemed to twitch with a kaliedescope of competing emotions fighting for control. In the end, Mac looked like a beaten abandoned puppy. Jack saw Mac glance back once at the big house and shake his head. He sat and rubbed his forehead. Jack narrowed his eyes recognizing the familiar signs of a headache. It showed the pain Earnest Bowling had churned up in the kid. Mac had been pleading for Lizzy's father to give a damn to be a decent father. Mac wanted dear old dad to see Lizzy's life was worth something, no matter what had happened. Jack sighed and turned away biting his lip. Mac wanted Bowling to be a father unlike Mac's. Mac had left believing Lizzy would be happy back in the arms of her family. Being told she felt abandoned by him? Oh kid, Jack thought. This was gonna hit the kid hard, like Hiroshima hard. Glancing over Jack could see Mac had packed away his own feelings chosing to focus on LIzzy's. Everyone else first was Mac's motto. Jack knew that, but he was going to be damned if that included a dead girl.. Mac looked washed out.
"Hey, bud how about we go eat something?" Jack asked as he backed out of the driveway. Mac didn't seem to hear him. Jack could see him sinking inside the nuke wasteland this was burning in his heart. Jack reached over and put a hand on the back of Mac's neck. "Hey, how are you doing? Do you want to go back to the hotel and rest? You don't have to do this all today." Mac rubbed his forehead. Jack recognized the fold between his eyes that indicated serious pain. Mac sighed and shook his head.
"Let's go see Mathew." Jack waited, deciding if he should make it a statement instead of a question. Mac looked over his eyes silently pleading Not now, please? Not now..
"Fine, let's go see Mathew then we can go back to the hotel." Jack nodded mentally adding 'and eat.' Mac sank back against the back of his seat and offered Jack a weak smile. He turned and stared out the window seeing only the past. .
Mathew Grant had been a put-together rich kid when Mac first met him. He always wore suits fitted made out of silks and linens from around the world. Each one cost more than Mac's housing for one semester. Other than the suits there wasn't anything memorable about Grant. He was pale as dough and parrotted whatever his parents, especially his father said or believed. When Mac saw them together, Grant and Lizzy looked happy. Well Lizzy did, or Mac thought she had. Mac wiped at his damp eyes. What if he'd been wrong? What if he had abandoned Lizzy? He could have stayed, could have pressed…
"...the place?" Mac blinked and looked over to Jack.
"What?" Jack paused his head tilted to the side his gentle eyes studying Mac. Mac swallowed and looked up nodding. Both men were surprised to find Mathew Grant lived in a shady neighbor hood in an overpriced brownstone. Mac and Jack shared a glance.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Jack asked. Mac's mouth quirked at one edge. He knew the thousands of questions under the question by heart. In answer he unclicked his belt and slipped out of the car. Jack shook his head and sighed. At least he was here to catch the kid when he fell. Mac had tried going to SF on the DL. Jack smiled. One of these days, the kid would learn that wasn't going to happen as long as Jack had something to say about it.
The pair passed an exhausted mother who fanned herself as she watched a group of kids playing in the street. A group of women standing and leaning on the stairs of the brownstone next door stopped talking as they turned like a pack of lionesses watching the two men's every move as they entered the brownstone. Mac and Jack shared a look feeling like they'd just been through a police lineup.
The stairs creeked worse than a haunted house. The dingy cracking paint and cobwebbed dangling light fixture spoke of a day long past when better days were expected but never came. Mac swallowed and cleared his throat as he rapped on Grant's apartment. A woman in curlers answered the door. She peeped from a narrow opening chained together.
"Yeah?" Her voice was only a tone away from being shrill.
"I'm here to see Mathew Grant." The woman narrowed her eyes taking in both men.
"Does he owe you money?"
"No this is about his wife, Lizzy." The woman froze, her eyes widening.
"He doesn't have a wife named Lizzy. You got the wrong guy." Mac looked at her puzzled. Jack frowned understanding immediately. He gently pushed Mac to the side.
"He never told you about her, did he?" Jack's gentle voice conveyed layers of sympathy. The woman flinched and shook her head. She undid the lock and stepped back. The apartment was small but homey. Mac crossed to it drawn immediately to a wall covered almost completly with photographs of people. Mac smiled. Family photos always fascinated him. He looked into these tiny snaps of happy moments like a peeping tom wondering what the world looked on the other side. Mac had a few photos. He gritted his teeth shoving away a flood of familiar emotions.
Most of the photos were the typical ones you'd find in a family. He was surprised to see pictures of grandkids. Mac frowned then realized that this woman must have had kids from a previous marriage. Why did Mathew keep Lizzy from her? He turned and offered a smile.
"Lovely family." The woman's face grew soft with pride. It vanished when she remembered why they were here.
"Would you like a drink?" Mac barely heard the question. A photo in a silver frame on a side table caught his eye.
"Coffee'd be great, if you have it." Jack answered when Mac said nothing. The woman nodded and patted at her curlers as she left. Jack looked over Mac's shoulder noting the slight tremble in Mac's hands. Mac closed his eyes and handed Jack the picture stepping away keeping his back to his partner while he tried to control a storm of emotions.
The picture was taken in front of the student union at MIT. Jack recognized it as one of the places he'd had to go to steel stuff when they'd found Franke. Jack's eyes widened. In the center a tall, somber man in black chinos and polo shirt smiled his at the camera while a curvaceous blond in a graduation black. Other graduates spilled out in the backround, but Jack had no doubt the guy was Mathew Grant and the girl was Lizzy. Jack licked his lipps and looked sadly at Mac. Joy of life seemed to make her 3D popping out of the picture. In a photo of celebration, she embodied celebration itself. Still there was something in the guy's hold on her Jack didn't like. They looked up as the woman walked in three cups easily balanced in steady hands. Jack carefully took his and gave her a whistle of admiration.
"If I tried that we'd be drinking off the floor." The woman blushed, handed Mac his cup then perched on the couch. They all sipped no one quite knowing how to start. Jack again came to the rescue.
"This coffee is fantastic!"
"I work in a diner, they have a secret recipe and grind their own beans. I've worked there for years." Mac set his coffee down.
"My name's Angus MacGyver, you can call me Mac, and this is Jack Dalton. I'm sorry to barge in like this…" She dismissed Mac's apology with a wave.
"It's kinda nice to have visitors. I'm Kitty Grant...Mathew's wife." Jack frowned. A glint of fear entered her eyes. He expected anger and surprise but fear? Jack's hackles raised. He had the feeling he wouldn't like this Mathew. He glanced at Mac and noticed he saw it to.
"Thank you, Kitty." Mac started. He held out his hand. It took Jack a second to realize he wanted the picture back. Jack handed it over. Mac glanced at it and his face twitched with pain. Jack frowned. He knew no one else would have noticed. Jack could feel the storm brewing under Mac's stiff self control, and it was a category 5. "This is Lizzy Bowling, she married Mathew after she graduated MIT." To their surprise, Kitty laughed and slumped in relief.
"Oh that's Lizzy? No they dated duriing college but she left him at the altar. They never got married." Mac felt as if a fist blasted into his gut and yanked out his liver. He glanced at Jack. Jack raised an eyebrow.
"They never married?" Mac couldn't keep the high pitch from his voice.
"No, she'd show up here high as a kite begging for drugs or money but he always sent her packing. As far as I know, she was someone his father foisted on him." Jack frowned and pulled out his phone zipping off a quick text to Riley. She answered immediatly. Jack licked his lips and leaned forward.
"Mrs. Grant...Kitty. Not only were they married, they still are married." Kitty's face faded to white. He coffee cup fell to the floor, the grimy carpet sucking up the liquid. Mac stared at Jack open mouthed. Kitty stood up, her back ramrod straight, her hands wrapped into fists.
"That mother fucker! Oh my God! I knew he was a cheater...but another wife! And her pictures in my house!" Kitty snagged the photo out of Mac's hands and threw it against the wall. "That son of a bitch!" Mac and Jack glanced at each other not sure what to do. With the worst timing in the world, they heard a key in the lock and a man entered. Older, with a lot less hair Mac easily recognized Mathew Grant.
Grant's eyes widened in horror as he recognized Mac then saw the rage on his wife's face.
"You worthless piece of trash!" Kitty railed reaching out for the closes thing she could touch some sort of wooden trophy. She threw it at him. Grant ducked wincing as it nicked his forehead and bounced off leaving a bleeding gash. Jack smiled content to watch Kitty rip the asshole apart. Mac had a more urgent need. He stepped between them with his arms up.
"Kitty, please!" Kitty growled ready to go through Mac if she had to. Jack winced not wanting to fight the spitfire in curlers, "I have to know what happened." Mac pleaded. He couldn't hide the agony and need in his eyes for a moment and Kitty saw it. She shook her head and stepped back glaring at her husband. She rolled up her sleeves. Jack bit his lip to keep from laughing. Kitty might have called a truce, but the second Mac and Jack left, Jack wouldn't be surprised if Mr. Grant's days were numbered.
Jack saw Mathew's eyes slide to the door. Jack moved like a shadow and grabbed Mathew by the collar dragging him to a chair the furthest away from the door. Jack stood over him arms crossed. Grant's eyes frantically darted around the room. Mac sat on the couch eyeing him. Jack had seen Mac use that gaze to pick apart a plan for interrorgating a prisoner.
"When did you marry Lizzy?" Mathew looked steadily at the wall over Mac's shoulder.
"Just after you left." Grant tilted his head defiantly, but still wouldn't meet Mac's eyes. Mac looked down and rubbed his hands.
"What happened?" Jack growled when Mac seemed stuck. Mathew ducked away from the Delta any defiance evaporating.
"The bitch went crazy, man." Jack didn't see Mac move. He knew his partner had amazing reflexes but Jack was startled by his speed. Mac had Grant by the throat and was shoving the man back against the back of the chair.
"You...can't...Kitty call the cops…"The man managed to gasp.
"I don't see anything wrong." Kitty said patting her curlers. Jack growled and grabbed his partner. He could feel Mac's muscles bunch with rage. Jack slowly pried the blonde's hands off Grant finger by finger.
"Mac, c'mon man. Think of Lizzy." Mac stepped back his face red, breathing hard. Jack pulled him away and sat him on the couch. Mac held his head in his hands visibly shaking. Jack turned to Kitty.
"Kitty can you get a glass of water." Kitty growled clearly disappointed with Jack's interference. Jack knelt in front of Mac. He could see guilt, shame and surprise flood into Mac's face. He looked up at Jack wide eyed. Jack winced and put a hand on Mac's shoulder.
"You ok, bud?" Mac was a billion light years from ok, but he nodded. Jack handed him the water. It shook. Jack left Mac sippiing it.
"Oh no, waiit until I sue…" Mathew shouted rubbing his red marred neck. Jack shut him up with a glare.
"I suggest you reel it in, dude. See my bro' here would feel terrible if he actually killed you." Jack leaned over Mathew grinning like a pouncing predator, "me? not so much." Grant shrank back. Jack nodded, "ok, so now tell us...politly, what happened to Miss Bowling." Jack moved to Mac's side and sat close enough to offer Mac silent comfort or grab him if he decided to finish Grant off.