It's that time again! Season 2 was freaking awesome (with a few rough patches) and season 3 is too far away! So I am again rewatching episode by episode and adding in my two cents worth. Enjoy! Oh and

SPOILERS!

Episode 1: DIY or Die

Mac saw stars as a meaty fist smacked into the bridge of his nose. Tears pricked his eyes. He shook his head focusing on working Jack's ropes with the button he'd managed to break in half. It was hard to keep holding the tiny homemade knife every time he was punched. Jack started to antagonize the guy to pull his attention away from Mac. Mac grimaced at each slap of fist against face he heard behind him. Of course, Jack kept going long past when he should have shut up. Mac's hand cramped and his wrist spasmed. Finally, he felt the thick ropes give way. Mac's shoulders slumped in relief. Jack broke into a maniacal laugh and headbutted the man. Mac frowned. One of these days his partner would have serious brain damage from all the hits he takes to the head. Mac shook his head and smiled fondly. What could he do? Jack is gonna Jack.

"I said, hit the brakes!" Mac bellowed fighting to hold the gun away from him and Jack's direction.

"Brakes? What brakes?" Mac's eyes widened.

"Crap! This is going to hurt!" Mac bellowed. He was right. Mac's body jerked back as the car slammed into the cement wall. Mac cried out dazed as the gun he'd been wrestling to control slammed into his head. Everything became a confused swirl of flying, blood and pain. He thought he heard Jack yell his name, but then he was in a whirlpool of cool water. Mac tried to steady himself, but he didn't know which way was up. The water around his head swirled with blood. Mac tumbled over and over. His chest and abdomen screamed in agony. Mac fought to hold onto what little air he'd managed to capture.

Mac bellowed in pain and bubbles exploded out of his mouth as he slammed into the cement pilon below the bridge. Everything went gray and black strands spun through his vision. His body became unmovable clay that hurt inside and out. He closed his eyes accepting he was about to suck in Cuban water and drown. Could be worse, he told himself. Everything went black before he could figure out how.

Jack managed to grab onto the handlebars of the three wheel and jump off the motorcycle into the churning sea under the bridge. He sank to the bottom and got his bearings. He couldn't see Mac. Worry squeezed his heart as he managed to knife to the surface of the water and suck in air. The tide tugged him toward the bottom of the bridge. Jack felt his stomach drop. He ducked under the surface and managed to miss the strongest currents. He saw the unmoving body of his partner circling in an eddy. Blood leaked from the kid's face. Jack dove and grabbed Mac around the chest. Jack gritted his teeth and fought the drag. Determination, stubbornness and brute strength managed to clear both men from the drag of the crushing tide. Jack swam farther away. He could see men in black uniforms running to the wreck. The driver had gone through the windshield and gotten crushed between the car and the cement.

The embankment on either side of the narrow waterway was piled with stones. He pivoted and took a deep breath of relief. He swam as fast as he could around a bend and leaned against a boulder. He pulled Mac closer and checked him over. Jack felt terror spike his heart when he didn't feel breathing. He went to check Mac's pulse, but the kid jackknifed and spewed water with a gagging cry of pain. Jack floated Mac onto his side and put his body between the blonde's and the stone.

Jack grunted as the rippling tide slammed Mac's head into his left shoulder. Mac gagged and grabbed Jack's sleeve under water as he tried to rasp in air while simultaneously puking water. Jack gently pulled the kid's hair away from his face. A deep horseshoe shaped cut over his right temple kept a steady stream of blood pumping out. Jack ran his hands along Mac's body. Mac moaned and blindly pushed the hands away. Jack scowled. He didn't feel any broken bones or open wounds, but the kid definitely was hurt. Jack cupped the kid's face gently wiping blood and water away from Mac's pale face. He had no idea how bad his partner was hurt.

Staying in the water, certainly wasn't doing either of them any favors. Jack eyed the bank behind them. There were enough boulders they could climb it without being noticed by the growing crowd of cops and other officials now swarming the bridge, but it was steep and lined with baseball sized stones. Jack felt Mac shiver against him and had to admit he was feeling cold himself.

"Well it ain' gonna get any better." Jack mumbled. His thighs burned and clothing clung to him as he pulled himself out of the tidal pull and onto the sharp stones. He paused a long minute gathering his breath then heaved Mac's limp body after him. Once they were both on mostly solid ground, Jack wiped water out his eyes and smiled. There was about ten feet of an almost vertical rock field then the ground levelled out to a sidewalk. Parked along the sidewalk was a multicolored 1958 Edsel Pacer full to the brim in the back seat and tied down trunk with personal belongings.

The passenger's seat looked clear. The car had been worked and reworked so many times, Jack knew it belonged to a family that had passed it down since the embargo started in 1960. Jack felt bad about taking what looked like an entire family's life, but he had to get Mac back to their suite at Hotel Deauville. Although calling it a suite was quite a stretch. As if. Jack grunted as he leaned Mac against him and half carried him up the steep bank.
The windows on the car were tied down leaving the vehicle open. Jack grinned, the keys were in the Pacer's ignition. He wasn't surprised to see the seat was a wooden bench without seatbelts or cushions. Jack frowned. He couldn't see anything holding the bench to the floor. He shook his head and hopped into the car trying to be casual as he pulled away.

The Hotel Deauville was the cheapest in Havana. They hadn't planned to stay more than a day or two at the most so went with value over class. Jack parked and half dragged Mac around the clear pool in front of the hotel. It looked clean and inviting if you didn't look to close or sniff. Cockroaches, the hotel's ever present mascots floated on the surface belly up. The whole area around and in the hotel smelled like urine and shit. When you stepped into the shade and looked back at the blue pool the water took on an oily yellow sheen.

Inside wasn't much better. Jack paused hauling Mac up trying to ease the strain of carrying his partner then huffed in air as he maneuvered the kid down the extremely narrow brown-tiled hall. The elevator let out a rubber squeak as it shuddered to a stop. The small group of old men that stepped out didn't give Jack a second glance as they pushed past him. Jack almost laughed at some of the nasty names he was called in Spanish. After taking Spanish in high school and College he knew enough to get around and get his point across. That meant what he knew best was insults, swears and some words he didn't understand but pissed off anyone that heard them. Those old fellas used a bit of all of the above.

Jack sucked in air leaning Mac against the dingy wall as the elevator wailed and shrieked it's way to the second floor. Mac let out a soft groan slowly raising his head. Jack put an arm around his partner's shoulders.

"Hey, kiddo? You back with me?" Mac's eyes rolled toward Jack's face then slid closed. Jack shook the younger man. Mac's eyes opened, but remained unfocused, "C'mon, help me out brother." Jack held onto Mac. Mac leaned against him and tried to walk. Jack felt a shade less worried. The kid wasn't quite with him yet, but he wasn't completely out of it either.

Jack worked the key out of his pocket and managed to jam it into the stiff lock. He had to jiggle it before the knob turned. Jack pushed on the door but it didn't open. He growled in frustration fighting the urge to kick the thing in. If he were anywhere but in Cuba illegally, he would have.

Jack pocketed the key and glanced at Mac who was slowly shaking his head. Jack shoved the door pushing with all the force he could make while still holding Mac upright. With a peeling crack, the swollen wood door banged open. Jack led Mac over to the closest bed, helped him awkwardly sprawl across it, and leaned against the bed a long minute catching his wind. Looking down at the grungy floor Jack saw a cockroach the size of a school bus skittering past his boot. He closed his eyes and stomped it. If only dealing with Murdoc was that easy.

Jack straightened and stretched backwards. He opened the minibar being careful to not rip the door off. He'd done that their first night. The hinges were metal and hung together with nails. He pulled out a bottle of water and sucked it dry. He paused taking a deep breath. It had been a long painful day out in the sun. His muscles and head hurt like hell. He tossed the bottle and pulled out another one. Jack double checked the seal. Sometimes hotels in places like this would reuse the bottles. This one was still new and unopened. He left it on the chipped laminate of the broken table beside Mac's bed then crossed to his luggage. He kicked it to scare away any wildlife then put it on his bed.
Jack studiously ignored the yellow tint of the bedding and the stains on the plain white comforter. Most Americans wouldn't think of staying in a pit like this one, but Jack didn't think it was that bad. Lord knows, he'd stayed in worse over the years.

Jack pulled the small but full emergency medical kit out of his bag. Glancing at Mac who was still in the stages of waking up, Jack decided he had enough time to get into dry clothes before tending to his friend. Jack sniffed the clothes and shrugged. All of the travelling Jack and Mac had done over the past month or so hadn't left them with a lot of time to do laundry. He pulled out the black jeans and T Shirt that smelled the best and shimmied into them. He smiled feeling like a new man.

Mac's eyes slowly fluttered open. Everything was a painful haze swirling around him. His head felt like a fishing hook had snagged his skull hard enough to pull it apart. He reached up a hand to touch the source of pain.

"Easy, bud. Let me finish first." Mac winced as lukewarm water splashed against his forehead. He felt like a potato stabbed with a fork and declared done. Mac rubbed his eyes then reached over, his hand landing on Jack's shoulder. The familiar form sat on the bed beside him. Mac took in air to talk and found himself exploding into a wet retching. Jack rolled him on his side and Mac puked brackish water onto the carpet. He closed his eyes breaking into harsh coughing.

Jack gently rubbed his back. Mac collapsed face first against the stained covers. He smelled the musty linens through the barely-there smell of soap nuts. While much dirtier than he remembered anything being when he was a kid here, it did take him back. Mac was exhausted and had a hard time keeping his eyes open. Mac blinked as he sluggishly recalled what had happened today.

"Ugh...you 'k?" His voice was slurred and muffled by the bedding. Jack chuckled.

"Unlike you, I know how to Evel Knievel. All those years of Die Hard aren't just for fun you know." Mac frowned not following the non-logic of the statement. He closed his eyes grimacing as Jack put a bandage over the cut on his head. Mac's bruised nose hurt, his body felt like it had barely survived spin cycle and his chest burned. His eyes drifted shut. Jack shook him awake. Mac moved his eyes and managed a sideways glare at his friend. Jack smiled.

"I know you're hurting, pal, but we gotta get you fixed up before you catch triple pneumonia." Mac furrowed his brow as he looked up at his partner.

"There's no such thing." He croaked. Jack raised an eyebrow.

"Really?" Mac coughed and rolled onto his back with a groan. He closed his eyes and put a hand on his forehead trying to stop the world from careening wildly around him.

"You only can get double pneumonia...you only have two lungs." Mac explained his voice hoarse. Jack chuckled glad to see his friend waking up.

"Well, if we don't take care of it, you're gonna be down to one." Mac glowered at Jack through one squinted eye then slowly then sat up. He curled forward gagging. The world went fuzzy for a second before he could wheeze in air. He blinked. Jack knelt in front of him a steady arm on his shoulder. Mac managed a low wattage smile.

"Did you call Matty? We have to arrange exfil." Mac made his voice as normal as he could, but he could tell Jack's intent gaze missed nothing. Mac cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow. Jack huffed and let out a deep breath of frustration. He stood up and retrieved the sat phone connecting to Phoenix in seconds. Mac tuned out his friend's soft conversation instead using the time to change into dry clothes.

He thought about taking a shower but shuddered as he recalled the electric shock that buzzed through his body the last time he'd showered. Besides which, here in the older part of Havana the water was most polluted. He rubbed the dressing on his forehead. It would be an ideal portal for all manner of bacteria and viruses. Besides, he hoped, they'd be on a plane headed home soon. Mac settled on washing his face and hands with the rest of the bottled water Jack had set aside. Mac changed. He turned to face Jack who turned around to talk to him.

Jack froze his eyes widening. Mac shot him a puzzled look and looked down. His chest was criss-crossed with deep maroon patches. Mac sighed pulling an undershirt over his head. He hurt everywhere, but he was sure it would get worse when those splotches mature into deep bruising.

"So?" Mac asked curtailing the lecture Jack was itching to give. Jack sighed and ran his hand through his hair. It felt crunchy from the salt and other things in the water. Jack also thought he smelled like manure.

"We're on a public fight that leaves in...three hours. It has three stops." Jack said the last part glumly. Mac sighed. That would mean the seven and a half flight would now be pushed out to at least ten.

"Well, we better get on our way." Mac said. Jack nodded pulling a thick wad of Pesos out of a money belt around his waist. Jack laid them flat on the bed and tapped them with a towel trying to dry them. Mac busied himself gathering their meager luggage, "How much do we have left?"

"A lot less than we came with." Jack growled. Mac smiled. Cuba was more expensive than most places to visit because of unexpected expenses like the fee to exchange American dollars, luggage fees, fees for having an air conditioner in the room, and countless other grifts along the way-and those were just the legal ones.

In short order they were out of the hotel and in a Coco taxi. Mac closed his eyes feeling his stomach churn. He really didn't want to be on another three wheeled vehicle anytime soon, but it was the easiest way to get to the Jose Marti airport. Jack grinned bracing himself with one hand on the back of the driver's seat and another on the edge of the round yellow body of the cab. The noise of the engine drowned out any conversation so they rode each lost in their own thoughts. Mac coughed at the thick plume of burnt oil exhaust and surreptitiously wiped his nose making sure no one could see. Such a thing was considered beyond rude.

Customs took a long time, security screening even longer. Finally after handing back the damp halves of their tourist tickets, Mac and Jack breathed a small sense of relief. Between fighting the press of scammers at the door and the excruciating long lines both men were tired. The arrival and entrances to the terminal were dingy, poorly lit and communist red covered every angle a visitor could see. The tile was brown but polished enough to see reflections of the passengers pacing at their gate.

The departure gates looked like the Cubans had run out of money. They reminded Mac of a factory more than an international travel hub. Mac paced trying to stay awake. Their plane was scheduled to take off in ten minutes, but there was no sign of it yet. Par for the course, he knew. His eye caught on a small display inside the Duty Free store. He strolled over to it. Hooks of colorful hand made bags filled a series of shelves in the stores windows.

"What the hell are you looking at? A suck up gift for Matty?" Mac jumped. He didn't hear the Delta follow him. The younger man rolled his eyes.

"No, of course not. What do we have to suck up for?" Jack shrugged and rubbed his face. He looked tired and a bit ragged around the edges, "These are Wayuu Mochilas."

"Purses." Mac shook his head in frustration.

"No, knapsacks."

"You gonna get one? I like the pink one." Mac smiled and pointed. Behind the colorfully woven bags was a rack of handmade leather goods. Jack frowned. Before he could say a word, Mac entered the store and was haggling with the clerk in fairly fluent Spanish. Mac handed over a handful of Pesos and chose a square shoulder length leather bag with lots of pockets. He grinned at Jack like a kid who'd just gotten the best toy under the Christmas tree. Jack raised an eyebrow and stared at the bag then looked at his partner.

"Ok, so you bought a man-purse?" He said itching behind his ear. Mac rolled his eyes and strolled back to the gate. He was relieved to see the plane at the gate unloading passengers. Mac should have known Jack wouldn't leave it there, "Why are you buying a man-purse? I mean I got this big box of cigars as a souvenir...why a man-purse?"

"It isn't a man-purse." Mac growled. He knew Jack was sincere in some of his confusion but most of it was him being a Jackass, "And it'll be great on missions. I can bring duct tape, gum, pencils, paper clips…" Jack held up a hand.

"Ok, I can see how that could be useful, but a man-purse?"

"Indiana Jones had one."

"No he didn't, his was a pouch to carry artifacts in."
"There's a difference?"

"Yeah!" Mac raised an amused eyebrow. His friend said that like it was obvious. He waited for Jack to explain.

"See a pouch is cool, plain and necessary...that is a purse." The pair moved into the long line for boarding.

"You'll see, big guy. This is gonna be useful." Jack closed his eyes and huffed.

"Whatever kid. I'll just be glad to get home." After circling the globe twice, Mac had to agree.

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Samantha Cage studied the team Matty had assured her was the best available in all of Phoenix. She wasn't impressed. She had expected seasoned agents or soldiers. What she got was...Samantha had no idea what they were.

Jack puffed up like a typical aggressive alpha male. Cage had encountered hundreds of soldiers like him over the years especially in special forces. He was asserting dominance. She wasn't worried about him, she could handle him easily enough. Bozer looked as far from a spy as you could get. His easy smile and jaunty hat made her think of that over cheery food service worker that was at once irritating and charming as hell. She doubted she would have his entire life story out long before they finished walking down the hallway. Riley hid behind a prickly exterior. Samantha had see that in incarcerated prisoners. Still her eyes were soft and expressive. Cage thought the younger woman was the definition of you get what you see, although Cage suspected the young woman could be a force of nature if someone she loved was in danger.

Now MacGyver...he was much more interesting. As Cage and Matty explained the Diez rescue operation, Cage had studied the young man. He stood at rigid attention, obviously had a military background, but he didn't have the hard crust experienced soldiers had. His face was a smooth pond that was impossible for her to read. Only in his oddly blue eyes did Cage see hints of something much deeper behind his boy next door good looks. His whole face glowed with mischievousness when he sent Cage a small smile. She couldn't help but smile back. That threw her. She was always the one in control. She got the sense that Mac would let her lead, but would watch closely from behind her ready to casually step in to save her if she screwed up. It was a weird feeling.

Then his face morphed into something completely different. His eyes seemed to hold all the world's pain as he watched Diez's parents beg for help to get their son back. Cage pursed her lips. The blonde obviously felt something resonate with him about the Diez family's situation. Something very personal that made his body quiver with the need to move. Cage could almost feel vibrations reverberate from Mac.

Samantha was pulled from her musing, her heart sinking with the long minute of silence. Would they help? It was a huge ask and Cage felt sick making such a request for a personal mission. Matty had reassured her that these were good people, but why would they help someone they didn't know? Mac shot her a dazzling smile.

"I'm in" He said with a voice deep with conviction. Cage smiled back grateful. After Mac, all the others fell in line. Cage let out a deep breath of relief. After all these years, she could finally pay Diez back for a fraction of the help he'd given her over their tour together. Mac's smile changed to one of understanding and sympathy. Even from across the room, Cage thought it felt like a hand on the shoulder comforting her. Mac was obviously the heart and soul of this team and she could easily see why.

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Mac rolled his eyes as his partner paced staring out the plane's window as if he expected to see a F-16 dive at them shooting its entire payload at them. Mac sighed and checked his watch. They'd been in the air a long time and had a long time to go. He was tired. It had been a week since Cuba but he hadn't been able to relax. Worry about his dad, Murdoc and the futility of their global quest wore him down. He couldn't sleep long before his brain threw him out of bed pacing with too many thoughts. That was if he got any sleep at all. His cough had not developed into pneumonia double or otherwise, but his chest had a constant ache that offset the chorus of pains from his multitude of bruises, but he'd felt worse before in his life. With a sigh he looked out at the bright blue sky. Wispy veils of see through clouds floated beneath them but did nothing to hide the endless desert below them.

"We should tell Matty to make it a no-fly space." Mac raised an eyebrow amused.

"The entire country?"

"Hell, yeah…" Mac tuned out his partner's familiar diatribe against all things Egyptian.

"We had a mission in Cairo…" Mac began to explain to Cage.

"We don't talk about Cairo, he knows that. We never talk about Cairo." Mac shook his head.

"Obviously he's still working through it." Mac was a surprised by exactly how much he didn't care about Cairo anymore. Since Murdoc, the Ghost, and the whole Nikki-Thornton mess, Cairo didn't seem so bad. Jack shot him a glare. Of course, Mac said reasonably, it had been a lot harder on Jack than him and it had been Mac's fault.

"I have yet to hear a question under all that innuendo." Cage's ruffled tone drew Mac back to his partner's conversation. Cage bristled at Jack's comments. Mac stepped in before Jack could shoot back.

"He means were you two together?" Mac was surprised at the indignation in Cage's response.

"So if you aren't together, why are you doing this?" He asked curious. He saw a hundred emotions run through Cage's intense blue eyes. Mac didn't get an answer until they were looking for a car. He glanced at Jack. Mac had admired the woman before, he was starting to like her, but he could tell his partner wasn't as impressed. Mac chuckled remembering the painful first meeting he and Jack had and what it took for Jack to accept him.

Mac glanced at Jack who shot him a grin that quickly vanished. He knew the look, Jack liked Cage but didn't want to admit it, yet.

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Jack grunted as he pulled Mac up. Mac laid on the stone pathway a long minute sucking in air. Jack frowned when he heard a soft wheeze.

He bent over his partner.

"Mac?" Mac coughed and grabbed Jack's arm pulling himself to his feet. The blond slewed his hair back and grinned at Jack.

"Let's get outta here before someone notices the missing wall around the dam." Jack grinned back and grabbed Mac by the shoulder shoving him towards the van Cage reved toward them. Twenty minutes later they were in the new surveillance jet flying home. Jack leaned his head back against the humming hull of the plane frowning. Why the hell was the inside light blue? He let out a long breath and glared over at the ten of spades. Jack smiled. Finally, the entire deck was cleared. His gaze shifted to Riley and Bozer who both sat at a complicated lit up console. He had no idea what they were doing. To him they looked like they were playing video games. Jack sighed enjoying the calm of a successful mission.

Cage's Aussie accent came through as she laughed with Diez. Diez had used the plane's facilities to cut and shave the Captain Caveman hair. Jack raised an eyebrow. And people thought he looked odd after going clean shaven. He turned to share his joke with Mac and paused. Mac had sprawled on the thin hard bench seat opposite him. Even in the blue, the kid was pale. One arm folded across his head, his forearm covering his eyes. The other hand rubbed his chest. Periodically the kid let loose with a deep wet cough Jack didn't like the sound of at all.

"Hey, Mac?" Jack asked forcing his voice to be non lachant.
"What?" Yep, definitely congested.

"Why is this plane always blue?" Mac moved his arm and stared at Jack. His blue eyes seemed to spark with electricity in this light.

"How many times do I have to explain it?" Mac asked. He coughed and sat up leaning forward. Jack mirrored his position. Mac rubbed his face with both hands. He look exhausted and worn way too thin.

"The ultraviolet rays help keep the equipment dry and keep the microcircuits free of parasites…" Jack interrupted with a hand of surrender.

"I was hoping to hear it was a tanning booth for smurfs." Mac's mouth quirked into a full smile.

"Smurfs? You hate the smurfs?"

"Well you know tan or grill…" Mac laughed and broke off rubbing his chest. Jack's worry went up a notch, "Hey, bud, you ok?" Mac rolled his eyes.

"I'm fine. Maybe a little cold…" Jack straightened ready to cross over to Mac to check him over. Mac held up a hand.

"Settle down, Papa Smurf! I'm fine nothing a few days off won't cure."

"And you are taking those days?" Jack said fighting the urge to stand over his partner and cross his arms. Mac shook his head and sat back. Jack knew he couldn't push his partner too hard too fast or the kid would clam up. On the other hand, he could see Mac's face grow distant and thoughtful, a little too thoughtful for Jack's liking.

"So...uh...Mac?" Mac glanced at him startled out of his reverie.

"What?"

"What do you think of Smurfette?" Jack almost laughed out loud when Mac's eyes drifted over to Cage. You know with the hair….

"I don't know, Jack, I guess I haven't given it much thought."

"I mean, don't you think it's a little freaky to have all those dudes and one girl?" Mac sat back amused.

"And one of those is Papa Smurf." Mac said making a show of rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Jack scowled.

"Are you implying something..." Mac shrugged.

"I don't know, Jack...he is the only one in red."

"Well maybe he's just an ol' boy who still's got game." Mac laughed and broke off in an explosion of coughing. Everyone else in the plane turned in worry. Jack crossed to Mac's side. Mac sniffed and wiped his nose with his sleeve.

"You definitely have a runny nose." Bozer announced handing Mac a handful of tissues. Mac took them and blew his nose. He looked over at the lit up glass.

"They have a kleenex holder?" He asked surprised.

"Dude, this rig has everything!" Bozer exclaimed.

"At least the Smurf light kills germs." Jack offered. Mac rubbed his eyes. Before Mac had a chance to reply, Bozer's eyes went wide.

"Did you hear the latest theory about Smurfette?" Mac groaned and laid back down.

"They have theories about Smurfs?" He asked from under the shadow of his arm.

"Yeah, there's a whole internet community about it. Today somebody posted that they think Smurfette is really transgender…"

Jack laughed and glanced over at Mac. The kid was out cold. Jack crossed to the supply racks and grabbed a woolen blanket. He covered Mac up and paused to put the back of his hand to the kid's forehead. Mac was feverish, but it wasn't super high-yet. Jack let out a long breath going through the mental list of what he'd need to keep the kid from getting worse. Jack realized the entire plane had gone quiet. He turned to see everyone, including Diez studying him with varying levels of amusement.

"What?" He demanded.

"Nothing."

"Nope, didn't say nothing."

"What, what?" Jack growled and sat beside his partner taking turns glaring at the others and their guest. He brushed Mac's forehead. Mac grumbled something unfriendly and slapped the older man's hand away. Jack closed his eyes choosing to take the moral high ground and ignore the other's snickering. As Jack drifted into sleep, his arm fell across Mac's chest. For once, the blonde didn't shove it away. Jack smiled. All was right in his world, for now.