I know, I know, Mac and Bozer have been friends forever. But this idea came, and I really, really wanted to write it, but I felt like it wouldn't work as well if the boy's were six. So, here's the college AU that literally no one asked for.

I loved the idea of MacGyver liking poppyseed bagels so much that I decided to use it here. (TinkerBella, I hope you don't mind.) All credit for the headcanon goes to TinkerBella7. Go check out their stories, because they're awesome.

-set in a universe where Mac is at MIT and Bozer is at a fictional school that I have made up called "The Boston School of Film." Bozer is studying, you got it, film.

-Jack is on an undercover mission for the CIA. He is working as a barista at the local coffee shop (Boston Brews (fictional)).

-MacGyver is 17. He is in his first year.

-Bozer is (just barely) 19. He is in his second year.

This fic deals with some of the repercussions of social anxiety that I have noticed in myself. As always, this fic is not meant to represent how others are affected by/deal with social anxiety. The bullying displayed has never happened to me in person, but the stuttering and trembling hands happen quite often.

It was a dark and stormy night (cliche much?)

The snow fell on the dark roads (ugh no)

The summer sun belied the horrible scene (no)

The man at the table, on Wilt Bozer, sighed as he crossed out his third attempt (that day) to start the draft for his first movie. His friends told him he should at least finish out his second year at the Boston School of Film before trying to write a movie, but Bozer had decided that getting an early start couldn't hurt. Sighing through his nose again, the man leaned back in his chair and observed the semi-quiet coffee shop.

The Boston Brew was a favorite studying/cramming/hangout/be bored place for the students of both BSF and MIT. This was aided, perhaps, by the fact that the coffee shop rested exactly midway between the two schools, and had the cheapest coffee around. While the coffee shop was relatively quiet, it was by no means empty. In fact, there were only a couple unoccupied tables left.

Just then, the door opened and in walked a young blond kid who didn't look like he could be older than seventeen- and that would be pushing it. Bozer shrugged as he walked to the line to order, paying no more attention to the teen. He needed to focus on his script.

Bozer had just begun to formulate another opening line when the door opened again, the little bell above it ringing. A couple students from MIT- Bozer could tell from the shirts that said 'MIT' on them that both boys were wearing- got in line just behind the kid. They were talking loudly, drawing annoyed looks from the other customers. It was an unspoken rule- unspoken, but everyone was aware of it- that you should be quiet when in the coffeehouse. Anyone who didn't follow the rule was generally hated instantly by all of the customers.

Bozer, sitting right by the end of the line, was in the perfect position to hear them. He noticed that the blond kid had seemed to hunch in a bit when he noticed who had arrived, and that set alarm bells off in Bozer's head. He listened as the two took notice of the person right in front of them in line. Their gazes turned predatory, and sneers graced their faces. The taller dude tapped his friend's shoulder and said, "Well, look who's here."

The friend smiled mockingly. "Well, well, well, I didn't think we'd see the little genius here, John."

The first guy- John- laughed back, "I know, I thought he stayed in his room and studied all day."

The blond kid in front of them's shoulders were hunching, and his ears had gained an unmistakeable red tint, drawing more laughter from the two guys behind him. John spoke again. "Look, Harold, the kid's blushing. Is the little baby embarrassed that he didn't get a hundred on his last test?"

The tint that stained the kid's pale skin strawberry red had spread to his neck now, making the two men behind him laugh even more. By this time, most of the coffeehouse had gone back to their work, the faint chatter and clank of the coffee instruments covering the noise of the bullying that was going on in the line.

Bozer, unable to take any more of the derisive behavior of the two boys, began to stand up. He realized, though, that it was the blond's turn to order, and sat back in his seat. He kept an eye on the scene in front of him, though, and felt himself growing more furious as it played out.

The blond approached the barista working as the cashier, a large, built man that looked like he was in his late twenties and whose nametag said 'Jack.' The blond didn't even glance at the menu as he began to speak his order. "I'd like a lar- lar- large co-"

He was cut off by the laughter that had begun again behind him. "Look at the poor kid, John. Can't even order without stuttering."

The barista shot the two a threatening look that ended their laughter before returning his attention the man in front of him. "Go ahead, kid."

The teen took a deep breath, shutting his eyes for a moment in an apparent attempt to regain his train of thought. "I'd like a large black coffee and a po- poppy- pop-"

He was cut off once again by cruel laughter. The two other MIT males in line had begun to laugh. Harold spoke this time. "Hey, genius kid, why don't you hurry up. You're holding up the line."

Bozer glanced behind them. There was no one else in line. Jack-the-threatening-barista-that-looked-like-he-could-bench-press-a-thousand-pounds shot them another look and spoke, his mild tone belying the nature of his words. "You know, I am able to use my judgement to permanently ban anyone that I deem 'a threat to the atmosphere of the coffee shop.'"

The two boys shut up at that, their glares annoyed, but apparently not wanting to risk being banned from the best coffee place around. The kid, finally safe from being heckled, was now wearing an expression that was so furiously flushed that he resembled a ripe tomato. While the expression on some of Bozer's friends would have been cause for much amusement, the film student just felt outraged right now. He watched as the teen pulled a small notebook from his pocket and scribbled something on it before tearing the piece of paper from the notebook and handing it to Jack. The man took the paper without comment, typing something into the register and looking up. "That'll be four dollars even."

Bozer watched as the kid removed the appropriate number of bills from his wallet and handed them over to the barista, his hands shaking a bit. He mumbled something quietly while slipping a five dollar bill into the tip jar.

Jack left the register to prepare the kid's drink and grab his food, and another barista took his place. This one was a slightly bored looking, middle-aged woman that took no notice of the laughter and derisive comments towards the teen that had sprung up the moment Jack had left. The blond was now scanning the shop for an empty table, and Bozer couldn't help but notice the way his shoulders were hunching towards his ears. Making his decision, Bozer stood and walked over to the smaller teen. "Man, I was wondering when you were gonna get here. Come on, I saved you a spot at my table."

Slinging an arm around the younger male's shoulders, Bozer led him towards the older teen's table. The kid sat down in the empty seat with a slightly bewildered expression on his face. He glanced up at Bozer, focusing on his face for a moment before his gaze dropped to the table. He spoke, saying, "Um, I don't- I don't know. You."

Bozer shrugged. "Maybe, but those guys were jerks. My name's Wilt Bozer, but call me Bozer."

The kid looked at the hand extended across the table, then back up at Bozer's face. Taking the hand tentatively, he said, "My name is MacGyver. Nice to- to meet you."

Bozer did his signature jazz hands move (it was what he had decided on to be his signature move. Every famous director needed a signature move.) and said, "See, now you know me. Problem solved."

A small smile had begun to make its way across MacGyver's face, encouraging Bozer. He was about to speak again when he noticed Jack approaching from behind MacGyver. He pointed, and the younger boy turned to see the the barista approaching. The burly man set the drink and bagel he was carrying on the table in front of MacGyver and spoke. "Sorry about that. Those idiots have been coming in here once a week since the beginning of the semester and annoying everyone. I've been planning how to get rid of them."

Bozer was about to laugh, but found the emotion dying out when he took in the expression on the older man's face. He looked dead serious, with emphasis on dead.

MacGyver gave an awkward nod, and Jack sighed. "I've gotta get back to my post. Sorry again."

The man walked away, but no sooner than he had, the two bullies showed up, standing by the table. Bozer felt a surge of annoyance as they began to speak, but felt surprise as Jack-the-barista-that-probably-would-end-up-working-for-the-government appeared behind the two bullies. He cleared his throat, causing the two jerks to spin around and be confronted with the sight of the man frowning with his arms folded.

It was terrifying. The sight was made the two older MIT students take a small step back as Jack said, "I guess I'm going to have to ban the two of you."

John outraged, said, "What? Why?"

Jack smiled grimly. "I saw you both steal from the tip jar. Ya'll're really so desperate that you're stealing from a tip jar?"

The boys blustered. Jack nodded meaningfully to their pockets. They each withdrew, with an expression of bewilderment on their faces, a five dollar bill. Jack shook his head, holding out his hand for the money. Once it was placed there, he put the bills in the pocket of his uniform before grabbing both boys by the scruff of their necks and dragging them from the restaurant. When he returned, he simply glanced over at Bozer and MacGyver, nodded to them, then returned to his post behind the counter. Bozer shook his head, laughing. Then he turned his attention back to his tablemate, who had a somewhat shocked expression adorning his face. "So, tell me more about yourself, MacGyver."

MacGyver winced. "Um, call me Mac. MacGyver's a bit long."

Bozer felt a grin spread over his face. "You know," He said, "I have a feeling that this is the start of a beautiful friendship."

I hope you liked reading Bozer's perception of Jack, because it was a hoot to write.

Before you judge Bozer for not acting sooner, note that

-as soon as he realized the situation was getting out of hand he began to react until he noticed Mac was going to order

-he was going to get up until Jack handled the situation

-once it became clear the dudes weren't going to leave Mac alone he brought him over to his table

-he couldn't just start a fistfight in the middle of the shop, no matter how much he wanted to

Thanks for reading!