MacGyver collapsed onto his bed with a grunt before reaching down to remove his shoes. It had been a very long day. He and Jack had spent the past 16 hours tracking down an arms dealer and locating his stock of black-market, military-grade rifles so that the FBI could effectively confiscate them.

It would have been easier if they'd had Riley's help, Mac thought to himself. Not that Jill hadn't been coming into her own. She just wasn't, well, Riley.

Riley worked hard and deserved some personal time. It would've been nice to know what that personal time was, if only for Jack and Bozer's sake. She had been acting a bit odd lately, and Jack had spent the day agonizing over why exactly that was.

"Was it the guy in Hawaii? Keanu, or whatever?" the older man had pondered in the car that day on their drive back to the Phoenix.

"No, man. She stopped seeing him last summer," Bozer reminded him. "The distance was stressing her out."

"Alright. Her mom's in went back to B.C. to visit some old friends for a couple of weeks," Jack remembered. He'd been pretty good at keeps tabs on Dianne as of late, Mac mused.

"She and her mom are good right now," Bozer insisted. "Everything's cool there."

"Okay. So maybe it has something to do with that computer nerd-hipster guy, Jordon."

"His name was Jaden, and don't even go there, man. He was just some rebound guy after she got out of the supermax and isn't even worthy of being acknowledged by a girl like Riley."

"You know, guys," Mac interrupted, rubbing his temples. "Maybe it's called a 'personal' day for a reason? Maybe we should stop analyzing this whole thing and let her take a day to collect herself."

How did Bozer manage to know so much about Riley's private life anyhow?

"You're not curious why she didn't come to work today?" Bozer asked him.

"She let us know she wasn't going to be there, and that she was safe," he answered. "As long as she's not hacking any government databases, I think we're good."

The car was silent for a moment.

"Maybe she's getting her hair done," Jack finally said.

"She has been changing her look up a lot lately," Bozer agreed.

Mac groaned.

And now, as he shucked off his clothing, filthy from the day's events, and turned on the hot water in the shower, Mac couldn't help but to think that maybe he was missing something. The only time Riley had ever kept a secret from them was when her mother had been kidnapped. But the members of The Collective had all been rounded up since then.

That didn't mean there weren't others from Riley's hacker days that would want to get back at her. It didn't mean that she wasn't in trouble right now. And with that, Mac's anxiety grew.

With a sigh, he swiped his phone and composed a short, non-assumptive text to Riley:

Just checking in. Everything going well today?

It really wasn't like Mac to "check in" on Riley unless they were on a mission. Fifteen minutes later, when he still hadn't received a reply, he fell into bed and dozed off.

It was wasn't even an hour later when the sound of his phone buzzing rudely awakened him.

"Don't be Matty," he grumbled, picking up the device to see Riley's photo adorning the screen. Mac frowned, swiping the screen.

"Riley?"

He sat up quickly when she replied with a sigh and a soft sob.

"Hey, Mac…..I'm sorry if I'm waking you…" her voice was shaky and strained.

He could tell that she had been crying.

"No, no, Riley, it's okay. Are you alright?" he asked, his heart racing.

"Y-yeah… Something…happened. I'm sorry. I didn't know who else to call."

Mac's pulse raced. "Are you hurt? Do you need me to call for help?"

"No…I'm…okay. I just," Riley went on, attempting to calm herself. "I'm a bit stranded. I would have called Jack, it's just, I'm not sure he'd understand."

Mac sighed, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "Where are you at, Ri? I'll come and get you," he insisted, pulling a clean pair of jeans on over his boxers while sandwiching his phone between his face and shoulder.

"Las Vegas."

"Las-" He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "Riley, what on earth are you doing stranded there?"

"Listen, I'll explain everything when you get here, but my purse got stolen and the person that I came with sorta left without me."

"And you're sure you're not hurt?" Mac asked her, not quite convinced.

"Yes, I'm sure, Mac."

Mac sighed. "I'm on my way, okay? Sit tight until I get there. Can you text me the address you're at?"

"Yeah. And Mac? Please don't tell Jack."

"Yeah…okay," he agreed.

Mac hung up his phone and finished dressing himself. An address for a casino popped up on his phone a minute later.

What the hell was going on?

Mac met Riley in the lobby of the Blazing Sun Casino. She was sitting on a bench near the main entrance, wearing a pair of tattered skinny jeans, a button-up plaid shirt, and a worn concert tee—definitely not gambling attire for the ritzy casino they were both now standing in. Her eyes were still puffy and red, but she was no longer crying.

She looked up at him as he approached her quickly.

"You okay?" he asked her for what seemed like the dozenth time that night as she stood to greet him. Mac's eyes quickly scanned over her, looking for any signs of harm. Besides looking tired and upset, she seemed fine.

Riley nodded.

Mac tiredly rubbed his hands over his eyes. It was 3 a.m. and he'd never felt more exhausted.

"Then, let's get out of here."

He led Riley out to front of the casino and waited for the valet to pull up as he yawned. Mac looked at his watch: 3:30. He hadn't had any real sleep in almost 24 hours. With a sigh, hopped into his car with Riley sitting silently at his side.

"So," he began. "Mind telling me what you're doing stranded in Vegas in the middle of the night?"

Mac wondered about Riley sometimes. They worked together, hung out with coworkers together, but how much did he really know her? Of course, they had friends outside of the Phoenix Foundation, but he had no idea what type of people she hung out with in her free time. He doubted she would be participating in anything illegal or unethical, however. Not with her record and still being on probation. Riley had a somewhat questionable past, but she seemed too smart to risk messing up her future.

She sighed, looking sad. It was a long time before she finally decided to speak.

"I came here with Elwood," she finally admitted.

He glanced over at her curiously.

"Your father?" he asked, and she nodded.

Ah. So that explained why she was so opposed to asking Jack for help or wanting Mac to fill him in on what was going on. Last thing Mac knew about Elwood was that he had had the crap kicked out of him by someone he'd ripped off in the past and then skipped town.

"He had this…plan," she admitted, vaguely.

Mac raised an eyebrow. "Was this plan…illegal?"

Riley sighed loudly, leaning her head back against the headrest and closing her eyes.

"Ri-" Mac began, warningly. God knows he didn't want to see her go back to prison again, but he drew the line at covering up illegal activities.

"No, not at first. There was this guy here in Vegas, big gambler. Anyways, he owed Elwood money. My dad knew of some compromising photos he had taken with his mistress and downloaded onto his laptop."

"Oh, so now blackmailing and stealing isn't a crime?" he asked judgingly. He couldn't believe it. He had come to trust Riley over the past two years, even after the whole NSA thing, and she'd let him down again.

"My dad took it upon himself to locate his laptop," she informed him, feeling ashamed of herself. "I was just supposed to get past the encryption."

"Okay," Mac went on, pulling his hand over his face in anguish as he pulled out of the casino parking lot. He was too tired to deal with any of this right now, but he couldn't let it go. "So, the favor didn't stop there," he pointed out the obvious.

"Turns out, there were no photos."

Mac glanced at her.

"My dad asked me to hack his bank's database and funnel the guy's balance into a couple of foreign accounts he still has set up. Elwood knows of my capabilities; he said it was the only way to get his money back."

"Riley," Mac winced. "You didn't," he said in disbelief. Undoing something like this would be impossible. Even if they put the money back, there would be a paper trail to prove it had been transferred in the first place. Riley was Elwood Davis' daughter, and it wouldn't be hard for anyone to figure out who'd managed to make the transfer.

She buried her face into her hands, taking a deep breath before emitting a sob. Mac sighed, pulling his car over to the side of the road and turning off the engine. He put his hand on Riley's shoulder, hating that it had come to this. She was an asset the Phoenix—one of the reasons they had completed so many missions successfully. She had a bright future with them, and now, thanks to Elwood Davis, all of that had been ruined in one evening. Now he wanted to break the guy's face himself. His left hand fisted tightly.

Mac would do his best to keep Riley's sentence to a minimum, even though he wasn't sure he would ever be able to trust her again. It hurt, he had to admit. Riley had made a promise when he'd broken her out of that supermax—no illegal activities that weren't directly related to a mission, nothing even questionable. Doing so would link her back to the Phoenix Foundation and would compromise their entire team. After everything Nikki had put him through, a member of his own team was betraying him again.

Mac closed his eyes as his coworker sobbed, taking a deep breath before pulling her into his arms. She clung to the front of his button up shirt as she wept. What was he going to tell Jack? That his daughter was caught up in a scheme that would surely send her back to prison? He sighed as he rested his cheek against her hair as he allowed her cry against his chest.

It felt as if he were hugging her good-bye.

Two years of working side-by-side, of gaining her trust, of trusting her in return, Riley had become one of his closest friends—a member of his family.

"Riley-" he softly began.

"Of course, I didn't do it, Mac," she mumbled into his shirt, and a wave of relief instantly washed over him. "I would never jeopardize myself again. For my mother, even Jack, but never for him."

Mac exhaled a deep sigh of relief, so immensely happy that he almost wanted to cry himself.

"Riley, thank God," he said, holding on to her even more tightly. "I thought you were getting ready to break terrible news." He frowned, pulling away from her slightly. "I'm not implying you've had an easy night, but if you didn't do anything to compromise your parole, why are you so upset?"

She rubbed the steady stream of tears away from underneath her eyes. "He ditched me, Mac. When I refused, he left me here. He didn't come back for me. He only came back because he thought I could help him. He's my dad, and he just left me. Again."

Mac shut his eyes, swallowing hard.

"I had to walk to the bus stop on my own. I got mugged at gunpoint by some thugs on the way; my purse was stolen. I had nothing, Mac," she went on. "Nothing. And he didn't even care enough to make sure I made it home okay. No 'I love you,' no 'goodbye.' He just got angry and walkedaway."

"You were mugged?" he worried. "Are you okay? Did they hurt you?"

She shook her head. "They took my money, some credit cards. They didn't touch me. I'll figure out who it was when I get home."

Mac shook his head in disbelief, pulling his hands through his hair. "Listen, I know you didn't want Jack to know, but I think you sh-"

"You can't tell him, Mac!" she exclaimed, her eyes widening. "He would be so disappointed."

"It's not your fault, Ri."

"It is my fault. It's my fault for trusting him, my fault for believing that he just wanted an afternoon together. I shouldn't have come here in the first place."

Mac sat back and sighed, turning the key in the ignition, and choosing to have this conversation at another time. He glanced at Riley, who looked just as exhausted as he felt right now on top of being more upset than he'd ever seen her before.

Mac drove passed hotels until he came to a subpar one with a flashing vacancy sign and pulled into the parking lot. Riley looked at him questioningly.

"It has been a long day for both of us. We need rest," he simply stated, opening the car door, sliding out, and motioning for her to join him. It was 4 a.m., but he wouldn't be able to function like a human if he didn't get at least three or four hours of solid sleep.

Mac got a room for them to rest for a couple of hours before their drive home. Riley silently followed him to the second-floor balcony where their room was. He flung open the door, flipping on the light switch to a humid, teal-green hotel room. It was clean, but outdated. Mac had asked for a room for two but had obviously forgotten to mention they needed a double, judging by the single full-size bed in the middle of the room.

"Is it okay?" he asked her, and she nodded.

Mac shrugged off his jacket, tossing it onto a nearby chair. Riley glanced up when he turned around to look at her. When he went to speak, she quickly changed the subject.

"I need a shower."

"Yeah…okay…"

Riley disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Mac sunk down onto the mattress, pulling off his boots. He listened as she turned on the shower. Shaking his head, he pulled his shirt up and over his head before unbuckling his belt and stepping out of his jeans before folding them and setting them on the chair.

He collapsed onto the bed's covers, exhausted. He turned onto his side and closed his eyes.

Soon enough, he heard the shower turn off and the bathroom door open as steam poured through the doorway and Riley's silhouette moved across the room. He felt the bed shift as she climbed in next to him and nestled beneath the covers.

Mac looked at the headlights shining on the wall through the blinds as cars pulled off the interstate. He was so tired, but the day's events wouldn't stop playing through his head. He silently wished Jack was here to comfort her. At least Jack would be able to offer her some sort of fatherly advice or give her the parental comfort she so desperately needed right now.

What kind of comfort was a guy who hadn't seen his own dad for over 15 years supposed to provide? One who so desperately wanted the same relationship from his father that Riley had expected from her own?

With a sigh, Mac turned over in the bed, facing her.

He thought for a moment about his own father and the fact that sometimes it felt like the man was stringing him along with all these vague clues he had been sending him. Would it have been so hard for the guy to just write him a letter? Make a phone call?

Was it really so hard for fathers to be…fathers? It wasn't for Jack, who didn't even have his own biological children. He had stepped in to play the role to Mac and Riley numerous times over the years.

Mac could still see the tears shining in her eyes even in the dimness of the hotel room. Tears that had been wasted on a person like Elwood Davis, a man who had left his daughter on more than one occasion. A man who had compromised her freedom; who used her and then tossed her to the side.

"All of our childhood, we put our parents up on these pedestals," Mac pondered aloud, causing Riley to look to him. "We think they can do no wrong, even when the let us down—over and over again." He sighed, tipping his head back. "Even when they don't deserve it."

He felt Riley's hand come to rest on his own against his chest. Mac turned his head to glance at the girl lying by his side. He pulled her into a hug, enveloping her in his long arms.

"All I've ever wanted from him was to just be there. Maybe even those expectations were too high," she mumbled against his bare shoulder blade.

Mac closed his eyes as he thought about his own father. All he really wanted was for him to acknowledge his existence, to return a letter, to stop hiding and let him find him.

Had his expectations been too high?

He soothed circles on Riley's back, her face resting on his bare chest as she sighed against his neck. She then pulled away slightly. He looked at her questioningly. Had he crossed a line? Neither were exactly 'proper.' Mac had meant to sleep in his boxers, and it was obvious Riley had come to bed wearing nothing but a pair of underwear and her tee shirt from the day. It made the lack of space between them even more obvious.

And then her lips were on his own, so soft and uncertain at first, as if she were testing the waters. It was probably at that point when Mac should have put a stop to it all. She probably even expected him to. Instead, the kiss deepened, his hand going into her hair.

He had thought about it before—kissing Riley. Of course, he had. She was beautiful, smart, and brave. She did things so clever it made him weak in the knees at times. So, yes, he had thought about it, but never in his wildest dreams did he ever think he would act on it.

She was always 'Jack's daughter,' or 'Bozer's crush,' or 'Phoenix's analyst.'

And although all those descriptions made what they were currently doing so wrong, as Mac's hands slipped up the back of her tee shirt, passing over her smooth skin as her body melded against his own, he just didn't care.

He relished the sensation of her shapely, bare legs tangled with his own; the feeling of her chest pressing against his through nothing but the thin material of her tee shirt; the sounds she made as he left a trail of kisses down her jawline.

Their deep breathes filled the small, dank hotel room as their hands clung demandingly to one another.

Riley moved to straddle him, kissing his neck as he gripped her hips and whispered her name. She ran her hands down Mac's chest, causing him to groan. It was when her hands tugged at the waistband of his boxers that everything came crashing back to reality.

She's upset.

You're upset.

She's a co-worker and a friend.

Jack's daughter.

Bozer's crush.

No condom.

"Riley," he gasped, gently grasping her wrists to stop her movements, and pinning them against his chest. His head dropped back against his pillow as he fought with himself to do the right thing. It had been a good while since he was intimate with anyone. His last two conquests had been cute girls he'd gone on a date with and hadn't seen since. Before that, Nikki. He didn't want to make Riley another conquest. "We can't," he told her, breathless, letting go of her hands. "We can't," he repeated, this time not sure if he was trying to convince Riley or himself about what a terrible idea this was.

"Why?" she answered him as he sat up, although she was still perched intimately on his lap, which really wasn't helping his present situation. Her hair was a mess, the small amount of clothing she was wearing disheveled, her lips red and swollen, and her chest rising and falling rapidly from their passionate encounter.

Mac was having an even tougher time telling her no.

He pushed his hand through his hair. Her hands were on his shoulders now as she stared at him, awaiting an answer.

"Because you're upset. You're not thinking clearly."

"I'm not a little girl, Mac," she replied with a frown, annoyed. "Besides, you didn't seem so opposed to the idea a minute ago."

Oh, of course he wasn't opposed physically. It was painfully obvious how much he didn't mind the idea of sex with Riley right now, and there was no hiding that fact, especially considering the way she was still straddling him.

Christ. It would be so easy to remove the two small scraps of clothing still separating them right now and have his way with her like nothing else mattered. They could forget about missions, deadbeat fathers, and their lack of love lives. What he wouldn't give to not having his conscience screaming at him so that he could give in to this one temptation without any guilt.

But then how would they deal with the inevitable repercussions that followed? The expectations, or lack thereof? They couldn't just avoid each other and stop talking, and he didn't want to. Did he really want to lose her friendship forever over one wild, passionate night?

She was still staring at him when he gently gripped her hips and removed her from his lap. Mac moved to the side of the bed, burying his head into his hands. What the hell had he just allowed to happen?

"Listen, Ri-" he began, turning her way and quickly realizing that she was crying. And then he was completely at a loss for words.

"Fine," she told him, standing up and edging away from the bed. "You don't want me either then."

Mac closed his eyes, swallowing hard. So, this did have something to do with her father abandoning her again.

"I do want you, Riley," he told her. "I want your friendship. That's why we can't do this-"

"Screw it!" she spat, leaning down to pick up the pair of jeans she had dropped on the floor after her shower. "I'm sick of excuses."

Mac stood up from his seat on the bed, gently grabbing her arm. "Let's just talk about this for a minute."

Riley quickly shrugged away from him. "I don't want to talk about it," she told him, pulling her jeans on before moving to slip her feet into her shoes.

"Where are you going to go?" Mac scoffed.

She made for the door, unlocking it, and then pulling it open. "I'll hitchhike back."

Mac sighed, capturing the door as it opened and shutting it. "No, you won't."

"You can't tell me what to do."

"Yeah? Well I didn't drive over four hours in the middle of the night to have you go out there and get yourself killed!"

"Should've just called me a cab instead of coming all the way down here," she snapped.

"I came because it was obvious you were in trouble and I cared!" Mac retorted in a huff.

How had they gone from nearly sleeping together to this?

Mac hated fighting with any of his friends, but the fact that this was Riley seemed to make it so much worse. Maybe because they had always gotten along so well, and he didn't enjoy good natured-bickering with her the way he did with Jack.

Riley face scrunched up at his words as she failed to hold back the onslaught of tears. She shook her head as Mac sighed, taking a step towards her, arms open. Knowing what Riley needed more than anything right now was physical comfort—albeit, not that of the sexual variety—Mac gathered the heartbroken girl into his arms as she sobbed against his chest.

"I know what you're going through and exactly how you feel," Mac admitted. "Not being accepted by your own father—well, it's pretty much the most painful experience ever. I've spent the past 15 years trying to figure out why my dad didn't want me. And, listen, in addition to your mom, you have me and Jack and Bozer and Matty. You don't need him. He may be your biological father, Riley, but we're your family. We all love you, Ri, and we'd do anything for you."

She nodded against his shoulder.

Riley gripped his elbows, pulling her face away from his chest and looking up at him through wet eyelashes. "You know the same goes for you, too, right? Whatever happens with your dad, you'll always have us."

Offering her a small smile, Mac nodded and heaved a sigh of relief as Riley wrapped her arms around him in return.

"So, we both get Jack as a surrogate father," Mac pondered. "I suppose some good should come from that."

"Like, maybe he'll be the one rationalizing with us when we get marooned on a 'haunted' island, as opposed to vice-versa?"

"Or he'll be the one to suggest not wearing concert tees to work."

"Or telling inappropriate stories in public places."

"Who's parenting who here?"

Riley laughed, causing Mac to smile.

"So, can we get some sleep before we have to drive back?" he finally asked. "No offense, but I think I'll try sleeping on the loveseat."

"Good idea," Riley agreed.

Mac watched as she climbed into the bed before scrunching himself up on the small sofa.

Things would be a bit awkward for a while, there was no doubt about that. You don't just have a steamy make out session with your co-worker and then go one like nothing had ever happened. But Mac was grateful he hadn't passed the point of no return with Riley. Their friendship came first.

Well, that and avoiding the serious ass-kicking Jack would have brought on if he ever found out Mac had slept with his daughter.