AN: For Dinah. Mac is captured by bad guys who attempt to neutralize him with vodka. Even the brightest of minds can be addled by enough ethanol, after all. Being Mac, he manages to escape. It's what happens after that leads to a big mess for Thornton to clean up. Or, drunk Mac on the loose.
This is set in the Paperclip Charms AU, a little over six months after the end of that story.
NOVEMBER 2018
WAREHOUSE
BOSTON
Mac cursed inwardly as he slipped into the warehouse full of printers and computers and other equipment for creating counterfeit documents, having picked the lock.
They were attempting to take down a syndicate that was preparing falsified documents for over half a dozen terrorist organizations.
He'd evidently just located their base of operations.
Thankfully, it was empty, as Jack and Riley had lured the syndicate members away by posing as potential buyers. It'd been a fairly extended mission; he, Jack and Riley had been in Boston for almost two weeks, along with Bozer and Beth, who were currently at a local FBI office (the FBI was back-up on this one), investigating and establishing cover identities for Jack and Riley.
Suddenly, he heard Jack's voice in his earpiece.
'They haven't showed, Mac, we've been made, get out of there-'
That was the last thing he heard before a syringe was jabbed into his neck.
When Mac came to, he was cuffed to a chair with an IV coming out of his arm, feeding a clear liquid directly into his bloodstream.
He blinked blearily, feeling rather light-headed. Also strangely warm, considering that it was late fall and he was in Boston and was only wearing his customary leather jacket and these particular bad guys hadn't invested in heating for their base of operations.
Chief Bad Guy, as Jack had taken to calling him (the guy's actual name was Thomas or Timothy or something like that- for some reason, it was eluding him), smirked at the blonde agent.
'Well, well, what have we here, Mr MacGyver?' The older man took a step closer to him, leaning down to Mac's level. 'You know, I thought you'd be harder to catch, you know. Your reputation precedes you.'
Mac smirked back.
'Catching me isn't the hardest part. It's holding me.'
Chief Bad Guy (he really couldn't remember the guy's name, though he was sure he'd corrected Jack just that very morning) laughed darkly.
'Oh, we'll see about that, Mr MacGyver.' He gestured to the IV. 'Even the brightest of minds can be addled with enough vodka.'
Vodka. Really. It had to be vodka.
Remember what happened last time I had too much vodka?
For the record, last time wasn't exactly a party, but it was definitely more fun than this time.
Mac just smirked at Chief Bad Guy again.
'I once worked out how to escape a hospital bed in a locked room while injured and under vigilant guard using Jell-O. I'll get out of this, and even if I don't, my team's got my back. They'll get you.' Mac's smirk widened and he leaned back somewhat, looking up at Chief Bad Guy. 'And they'll be mad. And you don't want to see them mad.' He gave a wry smile. 'You won't be taken in gently, in fact, you'll probably get thrown around a bit, and your whole business and all your assets will be wiped out with just a few keystrokes. And a character based clearly on you will die a horrible on-screen death, and you'll get lectured on the harm that excess alcohol consumption causes the liver. And that's before my boss gets to you.'
Chief Bad Guy (it was really getting on his nerves that he couldn't remember the guy's name, but he wasn't going to let it show) gave a snort of laughter, taking into account the red flush that was creeping up Mac's cheeks as the alcohol worked his way through his bloodstream and his metabolism.
'It'll be most amusing to watch you fail, Mr MacGyver.'
Mac just glared at him.
'It'll be fun to prove you wrong, Chief Bad Guy!'
The older man just laughed, and Mac realized his mistake. He cursed inwardly as Chief Bad Guy (what was the guy's name?) left the room and locked the door behind him.
Mac looked around, trying to focus. He had to escape.
They'd taken his Swiss Army knife, and the paperclips he kept in his pockets, and even the two bobby pins he'd stolen out of Beth's hair.
His gaze fell on the IV line coming out of his arm. More specifically, the needle coming out of his arm.
Now, if I can get out of these cuffs, I know that I can get out of this room; I can use the cuffs to pick the lock if nothing else…
Mac threw the improvised Molotov cocktail he'd made out of the (half-empty) bag of vodka in front of the bad guys' getaway car.
He was a bit shaky and his aim was off, so instead of striking right in front of it, he was a few feet off, but the explosion was still enough to throw off the driver and get him to drive the car into the brick wall of the warehouse.
Mac ran as best as he could (the world was looking a little funny and gravity seemed a lot more disordered than usual) over to the car. The bad guys, including Chief Bad Guy, he noted with satisfaction, all seemed very unconscious and were trapped by the airbags that had deployed.
He grinned and, pulling out his Swiss Army knife, which he'd recovered along with his paperclips and bobby pins, popped open the trunk of the car.
He examined the contents.
Counterfeiting equipment, counterfeit stuff…Groceries.
Well, I guess even bad guys have to eat.
He pulled out a potato and shoved it into the car exhaust pipe and seized a roll of cling-film.
His grin grew wider.
I have always wanted to try this.
It's going to be fun!
Mac stood and looked over his handiwork.
The bad guys wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon.
He looked around again.
Actually, I think I recognize this place.
I don't think it's all too far from that auto parts shop that my engineering buddies and I went to all the time back in college, trying to get parts for our solar cars…
Which means that that really amazing burger place is just a few blocks' away.
I'll go pick some up for Jack and Bozer and Riley and Beth. Since they're a great team and incredible friends and girlfriend and all.
Maybe I'll even pick one up for Patty.
Who doesn't love a good burger?
Fifteen minutes later, Jack, Riley and a couple of local FBI personnel pulled up at the warehouse.
They'd had to deal with a nasty ambush, and while they'd emerged unscathed with the bad guys all taken down, thanks to help from their FBI back-up, it had eaten up time. As soon as they'd been able, they'd taken off to Mac's last known location, hoping that their friend and teammate had pulled off his usual miracle and was unharmed.
Both Phoenix Foundation agents stared at the cling-wrapped crashed car, full of weakly-stirring bad guys, before them.
Riley walked around to the open boot and bent down. She pulled the potato out of the exhaust pipe and stared at it.
'Well, this is definitely Mac's work.'
Jack's eyes were sweeping the area.
'But where's Mac?'
The two friends exchanged a worried glance. Jack's eyes hardened, and he pulled out a knife and cut through the cling-film. He reached into the car and seized Timothy Meyers, or, as he liked to call him, Chief Bad Guy, partly because it annoyed Mac when he did so.
'Where is my partner?'
The criminal mastermind just smirked, ignoring the fact that Jack's hand was fisted tightly in his shirt, as one of the FBI agents put cuffs on him.
'Mr MacGyver? No idea.' The smirk grew wider and Jack fought the urge to punch the now-defenceless man square in the jaw. 'But he's had a lot of vodka, and even the brightest of minds can get a little muddled under the influence…'
Jack almost growled and practically threw the man into the hands of the agents. He walked over to Riley, who was patching them into a conference call with Thornton, Bozer and Beth.
'The good news is that we got Meyers and the rest of his friends, Patty. Mac left them as a present for us, all wrapped up nicely.'
'Literally.'
Thornton's voice was crisp and dry as ever when she spoke, though they could detect the slightest hint of concern.
'And the bad news, Jack?'
'We have no idea where he is. And he's apparently under the influence. Apparently Meyers thought it'd be a good idea to get him out of commission by plying him with vodka.'
Beth sighed.
'It had to be vodka, didn't it?' She paused for a moment, focusing herself into her doctor headspace, pulling away from the woman worried about her boyfriend. 'At least it seems unlikely that he has alcohol poisoning. Boss, I'm going to have to commandeer a breathalyser and a few other supplies. I didn't prepare for this.'
'Commandeer whatever supplies you need, Doc. Jack, Riley, find MacGyver and get him to Doc safely, before he gets himself into trouble.' There was a silence for a moment, before she continued. 'Oversight is going to hate this. I'd better go start pre-emptive damage control.'
The Director hung up, leaving Beth and Bozer on the line with Jack and Riley.
The two agents in the field fanned out from the warehouse and the car, leaving the still-woozy criminals in the capable hands of the FBI, searching for clues as to where their friend could have gone. Unfortunately, he hadn't exactly left footprints on the asphalt, and Riley found his phone, smashed beyond all use, in the warehouse.
Suddenly, Bozer spoke up.
'Wait a moment…I'm looking at your location now, and I think I recognize the area…Beth, isn't the warehouse just a couple of blocks away from Mac's favourite burger place from college?'
Riley and Jack exchanged a look.
'You seriously think he went off to get burgers?'
They could both practically hear the shrug and the worry in Bozer's voice as he responded.
'There has to be some kind of reason for him to leave the bad guys, and he doesn't make much sense half the time when he's sober…'
The two sighed, glanced at one another again, and the nodded.
'Well, it's as good a lead as we're going to get.'
'Which way to the burger place?'
Unfortunately for his friends, while Mac had been heading towards the burger place, he'd been side-tracked.
As he'd made his way towards it, something in a shop window had caught his eye.
One of those men's wool cardigans that Bozer was very fond of wearing.
I really don't understand fashion.
It's such an ugly cardigan.
It was a very interesting shade of puce.
I have to buy it for him.
He walked into the store, pulling out his wallet, which he'd also recovered from the bad guys' warehouse.
Jack and Riley ran towards the burger joint, following Bozer's instructions. (Beth was occupied attempting to source a breathalyser and the necessary medical supplies.)
They ran right past the clothing store with the puce cardigan in the window.
A minute after they ran past, Mac, holding a bag with a puce cardigan in Bozer's size in it, walked out.
He paused for a moment, and looked towards the burger place. He could just about make out Jack and Riley in the distance.
Timothy Meyers and counterfeiting and terrorists were completely lost from his alcohol-fogged mind. He smirked.
A little extra in-field training never hurt anyone.
Besides, they need some daddy-daughter bonding time.
And this is going to be so much fun!
Instead of heading towards his friends, he headed towards the grocery store across the road.
Mac walked towards the teenagers, a boy and a girl, who were busy stacking cans of peas in the grocery store.
'Hi, that looks rather boring, would you two like a hand?'
The two teenagers looked over at him, taking in his relatively lanky frame, fairly smart clothing, friendly smile and young age.
Mac might be drunk out of his mind, but he didn't look it.
'Uh…'
'Um…'
When the two teens didn't protest, Mac grinned wider at them, and moved past them and started rapidly stacking the cans.
The two grocery store employees could only exchange glances and watch.
Ten minutes later, Mac took a step back, looked over his work, and nodded, satisfied.
He glanced around the grocery store, grabbed a large bottle of Coca-Cola and a packet of Mentos, and handed ten dollars to one of the teens.
'Keep the change!'
And he practically ran out of the store.
The two teens just stared, dumbfounded.
Three minutes later, Jack and Riley burst into the grocery store. As they hadn't found Mac at the burger place, Riley had worked her magic and hacked some CCTV cameras and traffic cameras, and they'd tracked Mac to the grocery store. (Though, not before agreeing that they'd have to return to that particular burger joint at some point when they weren't on a wild goose chase after their intoxicated, crazy, brilliant friend. It smelled heavenly. No wonder it'd been Mac's favourite during his college days.)
They stared at the scale model of the White House, made out of tins of peas, in the middle of the store.
'Yeah, he was definitely here.'
'You ever wonder what it'd be like to be inside his head, Riley?'
She just cocked an eyebrow at Jack.
'Like I'd want to go down that rabbit hole, old man.'
They turned and returned the way they came.
At the exit, they caught a flash of a distinctive brown leather jacket and blonde head.
'Mac!'
'Come on, stop this, brother!'
A moment later, they were both showered with a fountain of Coca-Cola.
'Damn it! This shirt is new, brother!'
Riley gave a snort, looking at Jack's black shirt, then back down at her cream one.
'Oh, yeah, like anyone's going to notice, old man.'
Jack looked down at his own shirt, then at the young woman.
'That it's new or these stains courtesy of Mac?'
'Both.'
'What do you mean, both? It's-'
Riley just rolled her eyes and cut him off, pointing in the direction that Mac had gone.
'Come on, old man, we've got a runaway genius to catch.'
Jack grumbled, but ran after the young woman anyway, talking into the sat-phone as they went.
'We getting hazard pay for this, Patty?'
Thornton's voice was as composed as ever when she responded, but Jack swore he heard a note of amusement in there.
'I'll see what I can do, Jack.'
Mac grinned as he came up to a little bakery not too far from the grocery store and the burger joint.
This place made great pies.
His girlfriend adored pie.
To a really rather weird extent.
But who am I to judge? I get excited by weird things too.
Dr Seuss wrote something along the lines of: Everyone's a little weird. When we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with our weirdness, we fall in mutual weirdness and call it love.
I like that quote.
The bakery door opened, and the distinctive aroma of pumpkin pie wafted out the door.
And pumpkin pie is her absolute favourite.
And she did love the pie from this place back in college.
Mac walked inside.
As he pulled out his wallet to pay for the pumpkin pie, which the nice old lady behind the counter had boxed up for him, he heard cursing coming from the back.
The woman took his money, handed him his change, and with an apologetic smile, walked into the kitchen.
Mac, curious, leaned over the counter slightly and peeked into the kitchen, eavesdropping on the older couple who ran the bakery.
Apparently, their dough-roller was broken.
I can fix that!
My grandfather always said that we should always try and help when we can.
'This is going to sound weird, but I'm pretty sure I can repair that for you…'
A couple of paperclips, a bobby pin and a whisk later, the dough-roller was fixed and the two bakery owners were giving Mac very grateful smiles.
The blonde pocketed his Swiss Army knife, and glanced around the kitchen.
His eyes fell on two very particular containers, one plastic bottle and a cardboard box.
He indicated the two to the older couple.
'Mind if I have those?'
The bakers exchanged a rather confused look, but shrugged and nodded.
'Go ahead, young man.'
'It's the least we can do, you've saved us at least a few hundred bucks.'
He grinned at them and grabbed the baking soda and vinegar in his right hand, the pie and the cardigan bag in his left, heading out the back door.
'Thanks!'
Jack and Riley coughed and blinked rapidly as they were caught in Mac's smokescreen.
'Mac, brother, I love you, but I'm getting you back for all this!'
'I'm getting you back twice for this!'
Mac's voice, almost sing-song and childlike, drifted to them through the smoke.
'It's good training! Besides, you could do with some daddy-daughter time!'
Jack and Riley simply shared a look.
'We'll get him back, old man.'
'Oh, we're getting him more than back, kid.'
Mac made his way through a local park. Eventually, he came to an area near a high school, and ducked into an alleyway for a moment, peeking around the corner for signs of Jack and Riley.
He positioned himself behind a dumpster, brain ticking over as he plotted his next move.
His thinking was interrupted by two large teenage boys in letterman jackets pushing a skinnier, younger boy into the alleyway.
The taller of the bigger boys raised his fist…and was hit high on the right shoulder with a pumpkin pie. Pie splatted all over his face. A moment later, the other bully flailed, thrown off balance as he attempted to strike the younger boy when his head was suddenly covered with a puce cardigan.
I was aiming for a headshot with the pie…but I think it'll do.
Shaking off the pie and the cardigan, the two bullies stalked towards Mac, who was standing by the dumpster.
'Oi! Don't you have somewhere to be, Pie-Face and Puce-Head?'
The two bullies turned and looked at Jack, clad all in black, cracking his knuckles, and Riley, hip cocked to the side and arms crossed, and ran.
Their intended victim glanced between Jack, Mac and Riley.
'Uh…thanks…um…'
Jack gave the boy a smile.
'Go home, kid. Maybe sign yourself up for some karate classes or something.' He leaned over and stage-whispered to the boy. 'And maybe don't tell anyone about this. They'll all think you're crazy.'
The boy just nodded, and darted out of the alleyway.
Before Mac could escape again, Jack and Riley walked over to their friend, Riley updating the rest of the team as she did so.
After a moment and a shake of his head, Jack leaned over and hugged the younger man tightly. Riley reached up and clasped Mac's shoulder.
'You've gotta stop getting yourself into trouble like this, brother.'
'I'm with the old man on this one, Mac. For once.'
Mac hugged Jack back just as tightly. He blinked a few times, suddenly rather confused by his friends' behaviour and the concerned tone in their voices. He gave voice to a thought that he didn't really know the origin of.
'I think vodka is bad.'
Both Jack and Riley let out a snort of laughter at that. Mac did have a rather bad track record with Russian potato-based spirits.
'No more vodka for you, brother.'
'Definitely no more.'
JET
SOMEWHERE OVER THE MID-WEST
Mac, a goofy grin on his face, looked around at his friends; at Jack, who was seated opposite him, at Bozer and Riley, who were in the seats on the other side of the aisle, and at Beth, who was sitting next to him and coaxing him into drinking strawberry-flavoured Gatorade (he hated the strawberry flavour, it tasted like chalk, but it was all that she'd been able to get at short notice). By some miracle, he didn't have alcohol poisoning and wouldn't really be any worse for the wear, except for the worse hangover of his life tomorrow.
'I love you guys.'
All four non-intoxicated persons grinned. Bozer and Riley exchanged a glance, and then Bozer pulled out his phone to record the rest of the flight for posterity.
'We love you too, brother.'
Mac's grin grew wider. Beth took the opportunity to get him to drink more of the Gatorade. He pulled a face, but a moment later, smiled rather goofily at her. Wordlessly, Bozer handed his phone to Riley, who was closer, so that they could get a better angle.
'I love you, even if you make me drink that horrible concoction and steal all my MIT T-shirts and made me stay in bed and rest when I had the flu and never let me escape the infirmary.'
Beth just laughed, her eyes soft and fond, and held the Gatorade bottle up to his lips again.
'Love you too, Mac. Even though you're the absolute worst patient I've ever had.' Her smile turned more wry. 'And a ludicrously sappy and very difficult drunk, apparently.'
He drank the Gatorade, without making a face this time, and he took the bottle from her when she held it out to him. Then he turned to Jack.
'I love you too, old man. Even though your singing sounds like a dying cat, and you love country music and have dreadful taste in shirts.'
Jack looked down at his shirt, then at Mac.
'You just don't appreciate great music, brother. And coming from someone with your fashion sense? I'll take that as a compliment.' Jack's grin grew softer, and he reached out and ruffled Mac's hair, ignoring the blonde's resultant glare. 'And I've said it twice already today, not going to say it again. Can't have you thinking I'm going soft, can I?'
Riley snorted. Bozer smirked, and Beth shook her head fondly. Mac's goofy grin simply widened, and he turned to Bozer and Riley.
'And I love you too, Riley, even though it's your fault that Bozer never makes waffles anymore because you like French toast more, and of course I love you too, Bozer, even if you wear really ugly cardigans.' He made a face. 'And even though I caught you two defiling the kitchen. Multiple times.'
Riley, still recording Mac on Bozer's phone, ignored Jack's expression, biting her lip to stifle her giggles instead, while Bozer looked affronted at Mac's jab about his fashion sense.
Mac frowned, seemingly realizing something.
'I bought you a cardigan, Bozer. It was puce and really, really, really ugly…I don't know where it went…' He shrugged, seemingly satisfied that the cardigan was simply temporarily misplaced or had disappeared into thin air, and continued. 'And she's not here, but I love Patty, too, she's part of the family, even though I made her caller ID a mushroom cloud.' He considered for a moment. 'Maybe I should change that.' He cocked his head to the side, and obediently took another drink of Gatorade when Beth poked him. 'Have you guys noticed that she has like three of the same jumpsuit in different colours?' He seemed to have a sudden realization. 'Oh, and Riley? You're definitely right about the whole Jack/Patty thing.' He leaned over and stage-whispered rather poorly to Beth. 'Jack was making eyes at her before we left for Boston.'
Riley and Bozer smirked and turned to Jack like sharks sensing blood. The older man shook his head.
'Making eyes? Really? You're using your grandfather's words again, kid.'
Mac nodded, unflustered and unrepentant, and when Beth cocked an eyebrow at him, he took another drink of Gatorade. After a moment, he frowned.
'I feel a bit funny.'
Beth, Jack, Riley and Bozer all exchanged a rather exasperated, fond look.
'Only you, Mac, could get yourself into this situation. Only you.'
'Bro, you're the only person I know who would wind up captured and hooked up to a vodka IV by crazy bad guys, and then escape and cling-wrap their car…'
'…And then lead us on a crazy wild goose chase around Boston, ruining my brand-new shirt in the process, might I add, brother…'
'…And causing a mess that our boss is going to have to spend the next twelve hours trying to clean up.'
Jack, Bozer and Beth all winced in sympathy at Riley's comment. None of them envied Thornton at the moment.
Mac looked very sad, much like a scolded and kicked puppy.
'I'm in trouble, aren't I?' He seemed to decide that appealing to his girlfriend would be the best way to get himself out of trouble. He turned to Beth and looked at her with wide eyes. 'I bought you a pie! A pumpkin pie! You love pie! Pumpkin pie especially! That gets me out of trouble, right?' Mac glanced around, and then his brow furrowed. 'Well, I think I bought you a pie, but I think I've lost it. It's the thought that counts, right?'
Beth, holding back laughter, nodded with a smile.
'Yes, Mac, it's the thought that counts. Thank you for the pie.'
He wasn't placated.
'I should buy you a new pie.' He tried to get up from his seat. 'Then you'll be happier.'
Riley and Bozer exchanged broad grins. By now, Riley had handed Bozer back his phone, and pulled out her own, to get a second angle.
Jack just laughed and smirked at his partner.
'Happy wife, happy life, brother.'
Mac nodded sagely. Jack smirked and shot a significant look at Beth, who focused her attention on getting Mac to take another drink of strawberry Gatorade and stay put, a light pink tinge to her cheeks.
'Sit down, Mac. You can buy me a replacement pie later, when we're not at 40,000 feet. I don't think there are any bakeries in the lower stratosphere.'
'So you're not mad at me?'
The doctor nodded.
'I was worried, but I'm not mad at you, though I can't speak for anyone else.'
'We spent all afternoon chasing you, brother.'
'And you ruined my shirt, Mac.'
'And mine!'
'It's black!'
'It's new!'
Ignoring Jack and Riley's bickering, Beth turned back to the blonde.
'This is much better than having to pump your stomach and treat you for alcohol poisoning.' She smiled wryly. 'Besides, it's an awful lot more entertaining.'
Seemingly satisfied, Mac yawned and closed his eyes. He suddenly felt very sleepy.
The last thing he heard before he fell asleep was Beth talking to Jack and Riley.
'And trust me, how he'll be feeling tomorrow will be punishment enough, though I expect he'll buy you new shirts in apology…'
MACGYVER'S RESIDENCE
LA
Consciousness returned to Mac rather slowly.
Vague memories of being half-carried into his house and into his room by Jack, and then helped into an old MIT Solar Car Competition T-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts by Beth, drifted through his mind.
He opened his eyes, and winced at the brightness.
Slowly, his eyes adjusted, though he had a pounding headache, rather queasy and generally felt rather awful. The only source of light in his room, though it felt like it was painfully bright, was actually just the sunlight coming in through the half-open blinds.
He turned his head towards the side, and noticed Beth sitting in his desk chair, reading one of his books on Ancient Greco-Roman engineering. She smiled when she noticed he was awake, and put down the book as he worked himself into a sitting position. She grabbed the bottle of lemon-lime Gatorade (his favourite flavour) and the packet of paracetamol tablets resting on his desk, handed him the bottle and two tablets, and gave him a look.
He opened the Gatorade, took a drink, then downed the two tablets and washed them down with a third of the bottle.
'How awful do you feel?'
Apparently, my level of resistance to healthcare and how bad I feel are inversely correlated.
He groaned.
'Like I've been hit by a car and then clobbered three times on the head.'
She snorted.
'And you would know how that feels.'
He took another drink of Gatorade.
'Nothing that some rest and Gatorade and maybe some food won't cure. And I'll feel better once the painkillers kick in.'
She smiled fondly at him, shaking her head.
'You know, if you keep talking like that, you might fool people into thinking that you're actually not a terrible patient. Or even that you have a medical degree.'
He shook his head with a smile, and took another drink of Gatorade. Eventually, his brow furrowed.
'What happened, actually?'
'You really don't remember?'
Her voice was concerned. He could practically see his girlfriend pulling herself into her doctor headspace. She got up from his desk chair and took a half-step towards him.
And then, it hit me.
It all came flooding back.
Mac leaned back against the headboard with a groan as he recalled getting captured by Timothy Meyers, the vodka IV, cling-wrapping the car and shoving a potato in the exhaust, and the absurd wild goose chase he'd led Jack and Riley on, and then that conversation on the jet…
'Kill me now. Please.'
Beth sat down on the edge of his bed, relieved, and gave a snort of laughter.
'I've sworn to do no harm, Mac.'
He threw off the covers and sat up properly, putting his feet on the floor.
Best to get it over with, like ripping off a Band-Aid.
Now that he focused on it, he thought he could hear his friends in the living room. More precisely, he thought he could hear their laughter.
He groaned again.
I am absolutely never going to live this down.
Beth leaned over and kissed him chastely, before giving him a wry smile.
'Before you go out there, remember that I love you unconditionally, and they do too. Even if it might not seem like it right now.'
They're like family, and we do love each other, unconditionally.
But probably because we're family, I am absolutely, definitely, certainly, never going to live this down.
Mac walked into the living room. He found Bozer, Riley, Jack and Thornton seated on the couch and a couple of stools, watching a video of him on the plane from yesterday. Jack, Bozer and Riley were practically in stitches with laughter, and even Thornton wore a light smile of fond amusement on her face. Beth made her way over to the kitchen to organize some breakfast for the two of them (from the dishes on the coffee table, it appeared that everyone else had already eaten).
He shook his head, a wry smile on his face despite himself, and addressed his boss.
'I expect this sort of thing from them.' He gestured to Bozer, Riley and Jack. 'But you too? I thought you were above this.'
The older woman's smile widened somewhat at his teasing and grew more wry. She took a sip from the very large cup of coffee in her hands.
'I have spent most of the last eighteen hours dealing with the mess that this mission caused. A good deal of that involved dealing with the mess you caused while, shall we say, severely judgementally-impaired and inhibition-challenged. I think that gives me the right to some amusement at your expense.'
With a small chuckle, Mac returned her smile, and sat down on the couch, next to Jack, at the end closest to Thornton's stool.
'Thanks for covering for me, and cleaning up my mess.'
Her smile widened, and she reached over and clasped his shoulder gently.
'I'm your boss. It's my job to have my team's backs.' She hesitated for a moment. 'Besides, what are friends for?'
Mac smiled at her, locking eyes with her for a moment, understanding that she knew he considered her part of the family, and that she considered herself part of the family too.
She released his shoulder, and turned her attention back to the cup of coffee in her hands and the TV, on which Bozer was replaying the plane video for what was probably the fifth or sixth time, as Jack and Riley launched into another retelling of the wild goose chase Mac had led them on.
With a smile up at her, Mac accepted the bowl of cinnamon-spiced oatmeal from Beth, who perched herself on the arm of the couch beside him with her own bowl of oatmeal, and ate his breakfast, as his friends sat around him and laughed.
They say that in vino veritas.
That's Latin for, in wine, truth.
I'm amending that.
I say, in vodka, trouble.
At least I have friends who will always get me out of trouble, vodka-induced or not.
At least I have family who will always have my back, and who will always love me, even if I force them into a wild goose chase, ruin their shirts, am a terrible patient or cause so much trouble, that they have to spend all night cleaning up my mess.
And I'll always have their backs, and I'll always love them too. Even though they'll never let me live this down.
That's family.
AN: Of course, extreme creative liberties taken with Mac's drunkenness symptoms. And yes, sickeningly-sweet Team-as-Family fluff. I'm not sure if this was exactly what you had in mind, Dinah, but I hope that it hits the spot! It might have turned out a lot fluffier and sillier than you wanted…