MACGYVER
Reunion
ACT ONE
1) INT. DALTON AIR HANGAR - DAY
Mac and Jack are arguing about the best way to gap the spark plugs in Jack's Grumman Goose. The hangar door closes with a click.
"Actually, the gap settings in the manual are guidelines, not absolutes. The best settings come with experience with a particular engine and conditions."
A women walked forward into the hangar. She was about 5'6", dressed in jeans, a navy blue bomber jacket, and sneakers. Her brown hair was short, and RayBan Aviators covered her eyes.
Jack watched her with intense interest, one eyebrow quirked.
She walked forward and picked up a spark plug, sliding her aviator sunglasses down her nose to examine the plug. She scraped at the residue on the plug with her nail and turned to Jack.
"You're running the mixture too lean again Jack, just like you did with your car in high school." The corner of her mouth twiched into a smile.
Her voice removed all doubt, and Jack swung forward and hugged Ann, his best friend from Wisconsin.
"Jack Andrew Dalton, you're a hard person to find."
Jack hugs her hard and buries his face in her hair. "I thought I'd never see you again."
She hugs him back. "Me too; I finally hired a private detective to find you."
He pulls back enough to look at her, keeping her firmly in his arms. "Still beautiful."
She laughs. "And still with the charming remarks." Her voice goes soft and she reaches to touch his face. "I've missed you so much."
Jack turns and slides one arm around her waist, leading her to the desk in his office. She settles in his chair, and he perches on the edge of the desk, holding her hand. "Talk to me. The last time I saw you was the last day of school, 10th grade."
"I stopped by your house the following week. Your foster mother said you were gone. At first she wouldn't tell me where, then I finally got out of her that you were in Mission City, Minnesota. She wouldn't tell me anything more and slammed the door in my face."
He sighed, lost in thought. "Do you remember the Camaro incident?"
Mac walks up behind them, listening.
"When you slid your foster mother's Camaro under the semi doing 80?"
"Yeah, that would be it. That was the final straw with my foster parents. They called the social worker and told her to come get me. When I got home the last day of school, my bags were packed and waiting for me. I got shipped to Mission City that weekend."
"I tried driving up to Minnesota to find you, but my mother got wind of it. She called and cancelled my car insurance and had a State trooper pick me up. That was the end of my car."
Jack looked at her with worry in his eyes. "With me gone, did your father come after you again?"
She looked down at her feet and fidgeted, and pulled her hand back. "There was nothing you could have done. He had a trust fund behind him, a powerful attorney, and buddies in the cops. He did what he pleased."
"He sure hated me."
Ann looked up at him. "He hated you because you taught me to be strong and defy him. He was out to break me utterly, and the strength I drew from our friendship messed up his plans."
Jack leaned down and pushed a lock of hair back behind her ear. "I drove down twice that summer looking for you."
"My parents thought you might. They shipped me up to Northern Wisconsin to spend the summer with an aunt."
"What happened after that?"
"After that summer, I finished out high school and then bolted. I left my parents and the town behind and went stock car racing like I'd planned." She turned and looked up at him. "But things never were the same. I was missing my crew chief and my best friend. You."
At that, Jack slid off his desk and pulled her into a hug again. "The important thing is you're back now, and I'm never letting you go."
She leaned into his shoulder. "No argument here."
Mac cleared his throat.
Jack blinked in surprise. "Mac, c'mere, I want to introduce you to my long-lost best friend from Madison. Ann Daugherty, this is MacGyver."
Mac smiled and shook Ann's hand. "Pleased to meet you."
"Mac and I went to high school together in Mission City. We met in shop class," raising his eyebrow, "where that argument about spark plugs started."
"Jack, I need to cut out and get some things done. I'm sure you want to spend time with Ann. Why don't you call me later about finishing the Goose?"
"Sounds like a plan. Have a good evening."
"You too. Nice meeting you Ann." Mac turned and left.
Alone in the hangar, they strolled arm in arm towards the plane.
Ann gave Jack a sideways hug. "Dalton Air - I'm so proud of you! I knew you were going to make it. No matter what obstacle hit, you were always positive and overcame it."
They stopped in front of the Goose. The right engine was partially disassembled and spread across a workbench, 18 spark plugs sitting in a row.
"So tell me about her - she looks like a Grumman Goose."
Jack gazed up at Rosalind with pride, and ran his hand along the plane's nose. "She is a Goose, built in 1940 and totally refurbished. Two Pratt and Whitney turboprop engines rated at 680 horses."
Ann gave a low whistle. "She's a beauty, but you must be in hock up to your eye teeth to keep her running."
He chuckled. "I am, but hey, it's only money. What is life without adventure?"
She laughed in return. "We always did have expensive taste when it came to vehicles."
"I know this place a little ways up the coast - great pizza. And I've got something to show you along the way. Shall we?"
Ann smiled up at him. "Lead on, MacDuff - I'll even let you drive my Camaro."
2) EXT - STORAGE UNIT COMPANY - DAY
Jack pulled Ann's Camaro in front of a storage unit. He got out and unlocked the padlock, and raised the garage door. Ann followed, intrigued.
When she saw what was inside, her eyes sparkled with delight. "You got one!"
The evening light fell across a vintage Chevy Chevelle SS: midnight black lacquer with gold pin striping. She peered around him and caught the gleam of Cragar S/S mag wheels.
"Meet my pride and joy." Jack walked inside the unit and unlocked the driver's door. "Care for a ride?"
"Absolutely."
He unlocked the passenger door for her and she climbed in, settling back in the comfortable leather seat.
Jack settled in the driver's seat and cranked the ignition. The engine roared to life with a throaty growl. He turned and grinned ear to ear.
"Definitely a big block, but what's the CID?" she asked.
He pulled the car out of the unit and left the engine idling.
"A 454, what else? Balanced and blueprinted, Crane Cam, dual exhaust, Holly double-pumper."
He climbed out and closed and locked the storage unit.
Ann relaxed in her seat, noticing the immaculate dashboard. The whole car gleamed with loving attention; it must have taken him years to restore it.
Jack got back in and put the car in gear. He fastened his seatbelt, and then reached across to check hers. "All settled?"
"Sure - wind it out."
He floored it and the acceleration snapped them back in their seats. Leaving tracks behind them, he turned out of the parking lot and headed up the Pacific Coast Highway.
3) INT - PIZZARIA - EVENING
The pizza pan sat empty and forgotten as Jack and Ann reminisced.
"Do you remember the catechism lessons in Sister Perpetua's office?" he said.
Ann grinned. "I remember you cracking wise the minute she left the office. The catechism - not one bit."
She sipped her iced tea. "I do, however, remember the limericks you wrote on the tombstones in the school Haunted House."
He burst out laughing. "Yeah, I remember the demerits for that one."
"We really were incorrigible back then," she said. "I don't know how we survived it."
He sobered a bit and took her hand. "We had each other to believe in, at least for a while."
She squeezed his hand. "That we did. You were the only good thing about those schools."
"Did I ever tell you how cute you looked in knee socks?"
She smiled. "No, you didn't." She paused, and then grew quiet. "I wondered how you felt about me...beyond the friendship."
"You don't have to wonder anymore."
4) EXT - DALTON AIR HANGAR - NIGHT
Jack and Ann are standing outside the hangar door, hand in hand.
"Hey, about the Chevelle, let's keep that just between us, OK?"
Ann eyes him curiously. "OK."
Jack leaned in and kissed her. Eventually he came up for air. "I've wanted to do that for years."
She's a bit dazed. "Wow...I think I went tilt."
He leans in and kisses her again, then pulls her close. "I'm so glad you came."
"So am I."
"I'll pick you up tomorrow and we'll take the Goose up."
"It's a date."
He lets her go and watches her drive off into the night.
Jack checks his watch: 9:30 - Mac should still be up. He walks back to his office and calls him.
"Hey MacGyver, it's Jack. How about we meet at the hangar at 7:30 tomorrow morning?"
"Excuse me, is this *Jack* Dalton, owner of Dalton Airways? 7:30? You never get up that early."
"I'm motivated."
"Apparently, and I want to hear all about it tomorrow."
"Hey Mac," Jack added.
"Yeah?"
"Thanks."
"Good night Jack, I'll see you tomorrow morning."
"Good night."
5) INT - DALTON AIR HANGAR - MORNING
Mac and Jack are working on the Goose again, but this time in companionable silence. Jack has stopped arguing about the spark plugs, and let Mac have his way.
"So," Mac starts, "how long did you and Ann date?"
"We didn't - we were just close friends."
Mac looks up, surprised. "By the way you were acting with her yesterday, I assumed you were in love with her."
"I am."
Jack put his wrench down and turned to Mac.
"Ann and I were both going through hell at home. The only people we'd ever been able to trust or rely on were each other. I didn't want to risk losing that."
"I never knew..."
"Losing her tore me in half. I acted out and nearly got thrown out of the Minnesota foster home. By the end of summer, I'd managed to lock away the pain, but I never forgot, and I never stopped loving her."
"I'm sorry Jack." Mac thought about missed opportunities, and his own friendship with Mike Forrester.
"I've been given a second chance with her, and there's no way I'm going to waste it." Jack picked up the wrench. "Let's get cracking - I promised to pick her up at 1 and take her up in the Goose."
6) INT - ANN'S APARTMENT - NIGHT (WEEKEND)
Jack shifted Ann just a bit and stretched. He reached down beside the couch for the last few kernels of popcorn in the bowl. They'd watched five taped episodes of Tales of the Gold Monkey, and somewhere during the fifth Ann had fallen asleep snuggled next to him on the couch.
She looked so peaceful as she slept. The years had been kind to her, with some strands of silver in her brown hair, and a few smile lines. It was hard to believe they were both nearly 40 - she was still so very much like he remembered her.
They'd spent the day unpacking boxes in her new apartment. She was a freelance graphic designer, and had the usual array of markers, pens, triangles and design books, along with a drafting table and a Mac computer and printer. Her portfolio included logos, letterhead, and even aviation illustration.
Ann made a small sound in her sleep, and her hand reached up towards her neck. He recognized the gesture, and caught a tiny gleam in the dim light from the television. Her hand moved, and then he saw it.
It couldn't be, but it was.
A tiny silver Irish Claddagh pendant. Scratched and worn, she had wrapped her hand around it in her sleep.
Time fell away as Jack remembered her 16th birthday, when he'd given her the pendant. He told her when things got bad to wrap her hand around it, and to remember life would get better. She wore it inside her clothes, so her parents wouldn't see it and take it away.
She'd truly never forgotten him.
That small reminder touched him more than anything she'd said or done that week. Luck of the Irish, indeed.
He slipped a throw pillow on the end of the couch and stretched out with her against him. Jack fell asleep listening to the sound of her breathe, more content than he'd ever felt.