Colony: Beach I, by DarkBeta

(I have no rights to MacGyver, the show or its characters. Nevertheless i'm taking them out to play . . . a long, long way from home. This first chapter is a boring list of names and relations. If you can slog thru it, i think the next one will be better. [kowtows abjectly])

[Los Angeles CA, midsummer, 1992]

The barbecue at Pete's place was supposed to be a celebration. The Phoenix Foundation was kicking Pete Thornton a little farther upstairs. The guest list made it more of a "This Is Your Life, MacGyver" episode. Sam eavesdropped shamelessly. His newfound father was distressingly terse about the years Sam hadn't known him.

"I did some jobs for Pete, and got mixed up in other stuff a couple times. Nothing interesting," was all he'd admit to.

Mac's friend Jack Dalton, who'd run into them in Zaire (literally), had a lot more stories. They all ended with Jack dragging Mac out of some dangerous or embarassing predicament. Jack's left eye twitched like a castanet throughout. Sam had some doubts of his worth as an informant.

Penny Parker bubbled so much about her latest acting role ("Third Laundromat Girl") that Sam couldn't get her to reminisce. The boxer Earl Dent was equally happy over a protege's recent win. His daughter Veronica kept bringing him stuff he should eat, and taking away the stuff he shouldn't, and refilling his glass of juice.

In a quiet voice Mrs. Wilson laid down the law to the four teenagers who'd come with her, Breeze and Danyela and Solana and Raj. Pete Thornton argued quietly with his ex-wife Connie. Sam didn't want to get in the middle of either situation.

Willis, a Phoenix scientist, had staked out the tub of chilled drinks. He hadn't even stopped to drop the duffle bag slung across his back.

"Later," he said, waving Sam off. "I just flew back from three months on the Baja. I only got through by promising myself all the cold beer I could drink, and I'm not there yet."

Sam could tell Kate Murphy had some great stories, but she was chatting with Nikki, who might just be his stepmother some day. The situation made Nikki and Sam painfully polite together. She was good looking for an older woman, but too uptight. Sam didn't think he had exclusive rights to his father's time or anything, but still . . . he wanted to know Mac better before his father was distracted by a new family.

Nikki was the only person his father argued with. A lot. That had to mean something. Mac didn't argue or yell much, but somehow people ended up doing things the way he thought they should be done.

Willie Colton looked furtive as he put a hotdog on his plate. Sam watched the boy wrap it in a napkin, stick it in the pocket of his baggy pants, and reach for another one. A tall authoritative man saw where Sam was looking, and shrugged in resignation.

"Takes a while to forget the lessons you learn on the street," he said.

"Mac said he's only been here in the States for five months. Mr. Colton says he's doing great, considering."

"Mike Kiley, LAPD. This is my wife, Shirelle."

"Captain Michael Kiley," the blond on his arm corrected.

"Sam Malloy. Um. Mac's my dad."

"Really," Mike said.

Sam got that tone of voice a lot, from people who knew his dad didn't have any kids, and who noticed that 'Malloy' didn't sound much like 'MacGyver'.

"Dad brought the tahini dip over there, but everyone's been eating hamburgers instead. I'm going to demonstrate family loyalty and try it out. If I keel over from too much good nutrition, tell Dad I want a really cool tombstone."

He waved, turning toward the snack table and mentally kicking himself. Talk about obvious! Maybe he could have dropped the word 'Dad' into the conversation two or three more times, with a 'father' or two for variety, and let's not forget that other F word, 'family'!

Still, best to get it over with, so people weren't left guessing. As a journalist, Sam knew the extremes to which rumor rose. Sooner or later he'd meet everyone his father knew, and not have to go through that little scene any more.

Only, look at Mama Lorraine. Could anyone have predicted that the santeria owner was one of Mac's friends? Anybody might turn up next!

Frank Colton glowered at the horizon. His conversation was probably limited to curses right now. So far Jesse Colton hadn't managed to convince his son that they wouldn't run out of food. Billy, the youngest bounty hunter, answered a ringing cellphone before Sam reached him. So much for finding out what really happened with the rhinos in Africa.

The two Lisas looked interesting. Cute, and a lot closer to his age than his dad's. Their mutual glares were a turnoff though.

"I heard you can put together some stunning outfits, shopping at the thrift store," Lisa Woodman allowed. "Of course, you have to spend more than ten minutes at it."

"It's easy to stay in style when you throw out anything you've worn twice, and put the replacements on your father's credit card," Lisa Allen retorted. "How do you know a regular guy like Mac? Your chauffeur knocked him off his bike, and you convinced him not to sue?"

Woodman glowered at her.

"I got him out of a lake in Switzerland. He'd been shot. He could have died."

"He was dying when I met him. Poisoned. He couldn't remember who to call for help, and the bad guys were looking for him. If it hadn't been for my traps, they'd have caught him."

For the first time Sam wondered how much he really wanted to know about his father's past. What if something had happened to Mac back then and they'd never met? He stepped between the girls and kissed them, Allen first and then Woodman.

"Thank you for saving my Dad's life. I owe you!"

Allen swung at him. Woodman sniffed. Sam retreated, raising his hands placatingly. In a couple of steps the two girls were bickering too hard to see Sam's wave.

Mac's telescope was set up at the edge of the patio. Staring into the sky, he looked too boyish to be anyone's father. Maybe Sam should start claiming him as an older brother instead.

"So what was that about?"

An observant older brother.

"Nothing. Just an excuse to kiss a couple of pretty girls." Sam said. "Isn't it too early to be looking at the stars?"

Mac leaned over the eyepiece.

"The sky will be dark soon enough. You can see a couple planets already. Venus is by the horizon, and that's Jupiter."

"What's that other planet, the bright one up there?"

"Where? It can't be a planet."

"Yeah, I guess it has to be an airplane. It's moving in a weird zig-zag."

And getting bigger, as if it was headed toward them. Was the plane off-course, looking for a place to land?

"Pete, get everyone inside. Sam, come on!"

The light was overhead.

A family of raccoons, foraging for uncooked hamburger, knocked over the brazier. The fire started by the scattered coals burned Pete Thornton's house. The party-goers were assumed to be dead, in spite of the lack of cremains.

"Murdock," the more knowledgeable suggested.

The loss of two activist directors nudged the Phoenix Foundation back toward its original role as a "think-tank". It drifted into obscurity.