In a way, I would have rather had another episode where we talk to an imaginary Jack on the phone instead of taking what had the potential to be a really cool ep and having Mac treat Jack the way he did throughout. Maybe I'm reading too much into it, but all the crossed arms and hands in pockets… there was some MAJOR tension there, not to mention that it was another episode where Jack was written like a paranoid idiot. Sigh. I really miss when I loved this show. I honestly didn't know if I was gonna get this done before the ep tonight because I have just been majorly lacking inspiration. But anyway, on with the fixing…
In the end, it was Sparky of all people, if you could call their resident AI robotic wonder, people, who remembered Jack. "Bozer, I have a question regarding how humans process humor." His voice came through the quiet lab where Mac and Bozer were working.
They shared a small smile and Mac shook his head, signaling to his friend that the question was his to answer. "Alright, man. Shoot." He said, leaning back from the lab table and taking a few extra spins around on the swiveling stool he was sitting on.
"Seeing as how I'm not equipped with artillery and I see no threat you would need me to take out with firepower, I assume 'shoot' is your way of prompting me to ask my question?" Sparky asked.
"Yes." Bozer said, closing his eyes and asking for patience. When Mac had suggested the AI project he hadn't imagined how never-ending the task would be.
"How long does a joke's humor last? When does the… punchline… as you call it, end?"
Bozer frowned at the robot and then turned to Mac, who had looked up, a puzzled frown on his face as well. "You are literally programmed to not ask random things. Where is this coming from?" Bozer asked when he realized that Mac was just as confused as he was.
"I have been waiting on the humorous part of your joke to kick in, MacGyver." Sparky explained, turning his head towards Mac with a metallic sounding whirl. "At the hour mark, I became curious as to how long it is customary to keep people waiting."
Bozer and Mac shared another confused look but before Bozer could once again question the potential flaw in Sparky's coding, the soldering iron Mac had been using dropped to the metal lab table with a clang. "Jack." He explained, shucking off his lab coat and tossing it on the stool as he stood up to leave. "I sent him to go wait in the interrogation room. This went way too far."
"Come on, Mac," Bozer said, shaking his head. "It's been an hour. You seriously think he's still there? I'm sure he realized it was a stupid prank and went home already. He's probably chilling on the couch with a beer, plotting his revenge."
"Then I'll go there to apologize," Mac said, looking back over his shoulder. "I'll see you at home."
Just as Bozer had predicted, when Mac opened the door to the interrogation room, after his three quick knocks had gone unanswered, he found the barren grey room empty. When he headed down to the parking garage though, fully intending to do just as he had said and go to Jack's house to apologize, possibly with pizza and a six-pack as a peace offering, he found Jack's Shelby parked in her usual spot, right next to Mac's Jeep.
Mac pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed Jack's number, getting only his voicemail. Frowning, he made a loop through all of Phoenix, finding the War Room, the tech lab (not that he had really expected his partner to be hanging out there), and the gym all Jack-free. Out of ideas, and thinking that maybe Jack had doubled back to find him and Bozer and they had just missed passing each other, Mac headed back down to the lab.
He paused, almost at the entrance to the lab, and turned around, eyes scanning the hallway he had just passed. He hadn't noticed it when he went searching for Jack because he had taken the stairwell at the other end of the hall, but there was a small room close to the elevator doors. The door to which, Mac was certain, had been closed when the three of them had exited the elevator together. It was open now, though no lights were turned on.
The room was intended to be a type of lounge area. A place where lab techs could crash to get a few hours of rest if they were pulling an all-nighter to help a team in the field or a retreat for them while waiting on the results of a time-consuming project. In reality, though, it had become a catch-all for outdated furniture that was still too functional to throw out and a great hiding spot for broken lab equipment. In the years Mac had worked in the building he had never once seen someone use the room recreationally.
Which is why the sight of his partner, apparently sound asleep, on the dusty dark green sofa, was such a shock.
"Come on, Jack." He said, reaching for the light switch only to find that the bulb had blown, leaving the only light in the room what was coming through the open door from the hallway. "Joke's up. I'm sorry, okay? That wasn't cool. Dinner and first round's on me." Mac frowned when Jack, who was a notoriously light sleeper, didn't move. "Jack?" He moved through the small room, arms out and feeling with his feet in the dim light, hoping not to trip over anything, and carefully shoved what appeared to be a broken microscope off the coffee table, making room for him to sit facing Jack.
"Jack. Come on, man. Wake up, let's get outta here." Mac tried again. This time, Jack stirred, his face scrunching into a frown and pulling his arms closer to himself as if he was cold.
"Mac?" The older man asked, not bothering to open his eyes.
"Yeah. It's me." Mac rolled his eyes with a smile. "Let's go home, dude. Joke's over."
"Don't feel good." Jack mumbled, burrowing his face further into the arm of the couch.
"Oh, come on. We're still doing that?" Mac sighed. "I told you, the incubation period for the virus has expired. You're fine, Jack. I was just messing with you earlier, I promise."
"Something's wrong, Mac." Jack insisted, finally opening his eyes. "I feel awful."
"Alright, big guy. You're jet-lagged and exhausted and slightly paranoid, but I swear, you're not dying." Mac insisted. "I'll even admit that you took a couple hard hits back there, but we got checked out before we boarded the plane. You didn't even end up with a concussion this time. You're fine."
Jack shot Mac a glare before rolling away from him with a huff, facing the back of the sofa now. "If you're gonna start that again just leave, Mac. I'm telling you, something ain't right. I feel like I got hit by a damn truck."
"Alright." Mac conceded. "Let's just get out of here, huh? I bet you'll feel better the minute you get off that old couch. Why'd you even decide to crash here anyway? I've been looking for you for like, half an hour. You wouldn't even answer your phone."
"Was goin' back to the lab," Jack explained, not making any move to get up. "To find you. This's as far as I made it. Elevator made me dizzy. And the phone ringing made my headache worse" He motioned towards the floor. "Turned it off, put it there. Somewhere."
That got Mac's attention and made him rethink how quickly he had brushed off Jack's complaints. "Have you eaten anything today?" He asked.
Jack shook his head no and then groaned at the movement. In a voice not much more than a hoarse whisper, he finally responded. "Can't keep anything down. Tried telling you…"
"Alright, alright. We'll see how you're feeling once we get you home." Mac said, reaching out and resting a placating hand on Jack's shoulder. He wasn't expecting the heat he could feel radiating through the fabric of his partner's shirt though. "Jack?" His voice went from lighthearted teasing to concern in a second. "Jack, look at me. "Are you running a fever?"
"Can't be," Jack said, rolling over to face Mac once again. "Not sick. It's all in my head." He lifted a slightly shaking arm to cough into his shoulder. "At least that's what my brat of a partner says."
"I'm sorry," Mac said again, though this time he truly meant the words, as he placed a hand against Jack's forehead. "I just don't get how you got sick… You really are fevered though."
"You believe me now?" Jack asked, turning his head to move away from Mac's hand.
"Yeah, buddy. I believe you." Mac sighed. "Let's get you up to medical, huh? For real this time."
Jack shook his head in protest again, having forgotten how that caused the already prevalent pain behind his eyes to flare even worse. With a low groan, he rested his forearm across his eyes, to help ease the pain or to hide from it Mac wasn't sure. "Not movin'." Jack declared. "Head's pounding, the room starts spinnin' like a tilt-a-whirl when I stand up, and my knees turned into Jell-O somewhere on the walk here. Medical can either come to me, for real this time, not another stupid joke, or you can just leave me here to suffer alone."
"I really am sorry, Jack." Mac tried again, resting what he hoped was a comforting hand on his partner's shoulder. "I swear I didn't think you really were sick."
"Well I am." Jack croaked back in a tone that was supposed to be intimidating but the fact that Jack was quickly losing his voice took most of the fire out of the words.
"I know," Mac said, squinting at his watch through the room's dim light. "But I was serious about the timeline, man. If this really was the virus you really would be dead by now."
"Startin' to feel like I wish I was." Jack admitted, trying to suppress a shiver that was running through his body. "This sucks."
"Well if it isn't that virus…" Mac began, a thought forming. "Doesn't mean it's not a virus. Jack, you got that email last month, right? The one about Phoneix Med giving flu shots? Mandatory for all employees?"
"Yeah, I got the memo." Jack said. Someone who didn't know him as well as Mac might not have picked up on the slight hesitation in his voice, but Mac picked up on it instantly.
"And you went and got it, right?" Mac pressed on, hoping he was wrong.
"You know I hate needles, Mac." Jack answered with a sigh that turned into another cough.
"Damn it, Jack," Mac said, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "What part of mandatory did you not understand?"
"The part where it said 'Come let our stab-happy medical staff maim you for no reason!'" Jack responded. "Again, I hate needles." He pulled his arm away from his face to meet Mac's eyes as if eye contact would emphasize his point.
"Well, I have a feeling you're going to hate this more," Mac said. "You're in for a miserable few weeks."
"Won't be too bad." Jack grinned. "You see, I know this guy, supposed to be my partner, my best friend, and he was a total jerk to me earlier. You wouldn't believe it, making jokes at my expense, pulling mean pranks, not believing a word I said, all the while I'm sick!"
"Yeah, what about him?" Mac said, though he couldn't help but smile. He knew exactly where Jack's thoughts were heading and really, he'd had it coming.
"Point is," Jack continued. "He owes me, big time. But I think catering to my every need while I'm recovering might make up for it."
Mac chuckled. "Yeah, I deserve that. But I still need to get you to Medical first."
"No way, dude." Jack protested. "I was serious about not moving."
"I'll help you," Mac assured. "You can lean on me the whole way."
Jack cracked his eyes open, looking at his partner and considering his options. "Fine." He decided with a sigh. "But if I get out in that hallway and the light makes my headache worse I'm burying my face in your shoulder like some kinda damsel in distress the whole way there and you won't say a damn thing about it."
Mac smiled. "Deal." It was time for him to take care of his partner for a change. "Besides, everyone knows you're my favorite damsel."
Hope you enjoyed! I don't do sick fics often, so I'm a little unsure about this one…
