MacGyver sighed and rolled on to his side. It was easier to move now that the I/Vs were gone, but the cast on his arm still weighed him down. He looked out the window, gazing at the thousands of bright city lights that winked and twinkled against the darkness. The hour was late, yet he couldn't sleep, proving that his old nemesis insomnia could find him anywhere.

He'd expected to be tired after spending most of the day with friends. Pete and Helen came first, arriving at his door shortly after the ward opened for visitors. Helen had given him a stuffed bear dressed in hockey gear and a giant puck made of chocolate. The two headed back to the Foundation a little after lunch, and Mac managed a short nap before Willis showed up with the early test results for the new security software.

Since being activated, the program had detected several attempts to access the system, but none of them matched Hack-a-Mattack's signature. Security deemed them minimal threat risks as they were likely employees trying to access secondary directories from home. Over the weekend, a modest statement about the program had been released to the media in hopes that the troublesome hacker would take the bait.

Mac shut his eyes against the city lights. His head hurt, but it was tolerable. The dull ache he'd come to associate with healing was nothing more than a nuisance, and it certainly didn't warrant calling a nurse. With only two days left before his discharge, he had become even more reluctant to accept anything for the pain. He didn't like how the drugs made him feel, and he didn't want to give the doctors another reason to keep him longer than they already were.

Uncomfortable on his side, the troubleshooter returned to his back and tried to find a soft spot on the mattress. Determined to get to sleep, he cleared his mind and made himself relax. He had nearly succeeded when a distressed cry from the hall had him on his feet and out the door before he realized what he was doing. Mac quickly located the source of the commotion, and poked his head through the open door of the staff lounge.

"Is everything all right?" he asked, finding several of the night nurses huddled around the sink. "I heard a shout…"

"Oh, Mr. MacGyver. I'm sorry I woke you," said a young nurse, her face red and eyes brimming with tears.

"It's just Mac," he replied, noticing one of the other nurses was looking down the sink's drain with a flashlight. "What's wrong?"

"I was washing my hands when my engagement slipped off. It went down the drain. My fiancé just proposed to me last night -- I haven't had a chance to get the ring sized," she explained. "He's going to be so upset that I…I lost…" She began to cry in earnest, one of the other nurses coming to console her.

"What about maintenance?"

"He just clocked out for break and won't be back for an hour," an older woman replied matter-of-factly. Mac recognized her as the duty nurse, a humorless stick in the mud who likely saw her young apprentices as nothing but trouble. "We'll just have to wait until he gets back."

"Why don't I take a look?" he offered.

The duty nurse shook her head. "No. Absolutely not, Mr. MacGyver. You're a patient, not a plumber, and you should be asleep like the others. Now let's get you back to bed, and…"

Mac straightened up to his full height and looked down at the nurse. He wasn't trying to intimidate her, but he didn't appreciate being treated like a child, either. "I don't mind. Really. And if it helps, I'll take full responsibility for myself."

The nurse gave him a look that would have sent her young wards scuttling for the safety of the shadows. When he failed to react in the same fashion, she threw up her hands and gave an exasperated sigh. "Fine. Do what you want, but you're wasting your time. There's no way you can get that ring without maintenance," she huffed. "And don't come complaining to me when you work yourself into a migraine." She turned to the cluster of young nurses that had been watching the argument through wide eyes of awe. "Evens, Parson, and Miller, come with me, please. We have rounds to do."

The duty nurse stalked off with the young girls on her heels. MacGyver cringed and rubbed his forehead, the stimulation from the confrontation causing the ache in his head to spike.

"Mac?"

He turned to find himself alone with the nurse who'd lost the ring. Her cheeks were still wet with tears, but her eyes were wide with surprise. "I've never seen anyone stand up to Nurse Saunders like that before. How…?"

The troubleshooter smiled sheepishly. "It was a knee jerk reaction," he replied, continuing when she appeared confused. "Let's just say I've had a lot of practice in dealing with difficult people." He wandered over to the sink and stared down into the stainless steel basin.

"She's right, you know. There's no way you'll be able to get my ring without the custodian."

"There's always that chance, but I like to see what my other options first." He crouched down and opened the cabinet doors beneath the sink to look at the plumbing. It was a common set up of PVC pipes and metal joints. A slow elbow curve led from the drain to a box trap before finally connecting with the sewer line.

"Have you used the sink at all since you lost the ring?"

"No. I shut the water off the second I noticed it was gone."

"Then there's a chance it's still in the trap," he said, wrapping his good hand around the pipe and giving it an experimental twist. The connection held fast and he frowned. "Abigail, is it?" he asked, glancing at her nametag.

"Abby."

"All right, Abby, I don't suppose you ladies keep a monkey wrench handy, do you?"

She shook her head.

So much for the easy way… Mac thought, mentally estimating the distance between the drain and the trap. And a hook and line would be useless against that slow curve. Unless… He stood up and scanned the room, his gaze stopping on a cluster of coats hanging on the back wall. Bingo…

"See? It is impossible!" Abby exclaimed as he walked past her. "There's no way you can get those pipes apart."

"Nope." He reached into the shallow closet and pushed the garments to one side, discovering several empty wire hangers in the back. He took two and returned to the sink. "We're just going to have to find a different way."

"A different way? But how? There's only one way."

"Aw, come on," Mac muttered, trying unsuccessfully to unwind the twist holding the heavy gauge wire in shape. "There's always another way. Some are just less obvious than others. Do you keep any tools laying around?"

"Just what's in this drawer," she said, opening a small drawer beneath the counter. "But you won't find anything strong enough to get those pipes apart."

MacGyver rummaged through the odd assortment of screwdrivers, hammers, bolts, and small wrenches. He hit pay dirt when he came across a sturdy pair of pliers, wire cutters, and a roll of black electrical tape.

Abby watched with interest as the troubleshooter used the wire cutters to remove the hook and twisted neck from both hangers. Using the pliers, he went to work unbending the curves until he was left with two fairly straight pieces of wire. He fastened them together with electrical tape, and used the pliers to bend a small hook at one end of the line. When he was done, Mac fed the end with the hook down into the drain and slowly advanced it down the pipe.

"Mac, I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but…I don't think…there's no way…"

Deep in concentration, MacGyver ignored the girl's skepticism and focused on visualizing the hook snaking its way through the pipe. When it met resistance, he shifted his end of the wire until it gave, the hook entering the trap. Pushing the wire in as far as he could, he slowly moved it back and forth, covering as much of the trap's floor as possible. Once satisfied he'd done enough, he began to withdraw his improvised fishing line being careful not to lose anything the hook may have snagged.

"If this doesn't work, thank you for trying," she said, watching over his shoulder. "You certainly didn't have to volunteer to do this. It means a lot."

Mac nodded, the bulk of his attention still on the wire in his hands. At last he saw the hook coming into view, and his hopeful expression fell into a frown. "I guess you were right."

What little hope had been in Abby's eyes faded too. "It's all right, Mac. I'll just wait for…"

"I didn't have to volunteer to do this. But I'm glad I did." He pulled the wire the rest of the way out of the drain and held it up for her to see. Dangling from the hook was the gold diamond band her fiancé had offered to her from his knees.

"You…" Stunned, Abby reached out and took the ring from the hook. "But…how…I thought…oh my god…Thank you."

Mac grinned and leaned against the sink, watching as the young nurse went from disbelief to shock, amazement, and finally tearful relief. "You're welcome."

"I don't know how you did it, but…How can I ever repay you?"

"Don't worry about it. Just be sure to get your ring sized before you wear it again. Drain trap fishing is more of a sport of chance than skill. We got lucky tonight, but next time…whoa!" Mac unexpectedly found himself engulfed in a bear hug, Abby squeezing him with all her might. He chuckled and patted her back.

"I won't forget this," she said once she'd regained her composure. She took the coat hanger contraption off the counter and studied it for a moment; still amazed that something so simple had actually worked. "Seriously. It's the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me."

"Well, I'm glad I could be of assistance." He motioned towards the door. "Why don't you go let your friends know you're all right. They seemed pretty concerned when they left."

Abby grinned. "Nurse Saunders is going to flip when she hears this. I can't wait to see the look on her face." She went to leave, but paused at the door, suddenly remembering the man that had helped her was still a patient. "Would you like some help getting back to your room?"

"I think I can find my way."

"Give a ring if you need anything. Good night, Mac, and thanks again."

The troubleshooter waved and Abby left.

Still grinning over the whole incident, Mac returned the tools to their drawer and headed back to his room. He didn't realize how much the excitement had taken out of him until he sat down on his bed, the wave of fatigue catching him by surprise.

Man… he thought, dropping back against the pillow and reaching for the blankets. I gotta get out more often. He yawned and idly rubbed the bandage on his head, trying to massage away the ache that had settled behind the healing wound. He suspected he'd done too much, too soon, but it was a small price to pay for the fulfillment he felt.

Shifting onto his side, MacGyver closed his eyes and relaxed. Within minutes he was fast asleep, lulled by the satisfaction of a job well done.

*

"Were there any messages left while I was gone?" Pete asked, barely out of the elevator before springing the question on his secretary.

Helen glanced up from the document she was keying into the computer. "Nothing yet, Peter. I'm sorry."

The director sighed and shook his head. "Why is it taking them so long to get back to me? What's going on over there?"

"I'm sure MacGyver is perfectly fine. You just happened to call at a bad time."

"But twice? Three hours apart? All the nurses kept telling me is that he's just tired."

The older woman stopped typing, unable to concentrate with him shedding his concerns all over her desk. "Maybe he is."

"Maybe I should call again." He reached over the counter for the phone, but Helen intercepted his hand.

"Let the man rest, Peter. Someone will call you when they get the chance, and I will let you know just as soon as they do."

Pete frowned, although it was more out of concern for his friend than annoyance. "All right. I'll give it another hour. If I don't hear anything by then… I just hate not knowing."

"I know you do," Helen replied. "Almost as much as you hate waiting."

Pete grunted and continued down to his office. Once inside, he added the folders he'd been carrying to the small mountain already on his desk. Since Mac had fallen ill, he'd had little time or ambition to organize his work. He spent as much time at the hospital as he could, and the lack of his usual attention to detail was starting to show.

He moved several reports off his chair and sat down, his eyes immediately going to the phone. He knew Helen was right. Someone from the hospital would call when they had new information to give him. Knowing this, however, didn't make waiting any easier.

Pete flipped on his computer. While waiting for it to boot, his mind wandered back to the phone conversation he'd had with MacGyver the night before. He'd sounded all right, the younger man returning to his old self with each passing day. They'd chatted some about Willis's visit and the excitement surrounding the early success of the new computer program. Toward the end, Pete informed him of a meeting he had to attend the following day and his inability to visit until later that evening. Mac took the news in stride and agreed to give him a call after breakfast.

When nine-thirty rolled around and the call never came, the director placed one himself, only to be transferred directly to the nurses' station. He was told MacGyver was still asleep, and to try back later. Pete tried again when his meeting broke for lunch and received the same message. He'd asked if there was anything wrong, and the nurse simply replied that Mac had a long night and was extremely tired. Concerned, he put in a request for Ferris to contact him as soon as she arrived.

And that was over three hours ago…he thought, keying his password into the computer. He'd spent the last half of the meeting lost in his own world, wondering what could be wrong with his friend. The nurse said he had a long night, so it can't be good. Why wouldn't they tell me what was going on? I should have skipped the meeting. I should have gone over there. I should have…

His phone beeped and Helen's voice came from the speaker. "Dr. Harper is on line 3 for you, Peter."

The director practically pounced on the phone. "Thanks," he mumbled, the receiver already half way to his ear. He composed himself briefly before toggling the blinking button beneath the number 3. "Thornton."

"Hi, Pete. It's Ferris Harper calling from the University Hospital. I'm sorry it took so long for me to get back to you, there's a lot going on over here right now."

Pete felt his stomach clench. "I-is everything all right?"

"Everything's fine. Just a lot of visitors in and out."

"What about Mac? I've tried calling him a couple of times, but he's been asleep. Is he okay?"

"MacGyver's doing good. According to the notes left by the evening staff, he had a bit too excitement late last night, so he's feeling pretty lousy today."

"Excitement? What happened?" Pete listened intently as Ferris explained his friend's creative antics, including the dressing down of duty nurse. "Yeah, that sounds like Mac," he chuckled, relieved that it wasn't something more serious.

"He became an instant hero to all the young women on the floor. You think they fawned over him before, you should see them now." The doctor sighed, turning serious. "Unfortunately his noble actions came with a price. He had to be treated for a migraine early this morning and he's been asleep for the majority of the day. Simply put: he's plum tuckered out."

"But he's going to be all right?"

"He'll be fine. I think he just pushed himself too fast, too soon. My biggest concern is that he's refused all his meals. I know he's not overly fond of the food here anyway, but he needs to keep his strength up."

Pete recalled his friend commenting on how excessively processed the food was. While most wouldn't balk at the idea of eating syrup soaked pancakes and hot dogs several times a week, Mac rarely touched the stuff himself. Over the years, his diet had become more natural and he tended to shy away from the heavily processed foods altogether.

"What if I brought in something he likes? Do you think he'd eat that?"

"It's worth a try. Anything you can get into him at this point will only help. What time are you coming by?"

"I have a few things I have to finish up here, so an hour, maybe two."

"Great. I'll let him know. I should still be around too. There're a few things I'd like to run by you."

"Good. So I'll see you then. Thanks for giving me a call back – I think I can actually concentrate on my work now."

"No problem. I'll see you in a bit. Bye, Pete."

"Goodbye." He hung up the phone and sat back in his chair. A wide grin appeared on his face as he imagined the gapes and gawks of the hospital staff as they learned of MacGyver's feat. He was definitely a resourceful young man, especially when it came to helping others.

It just goes to show… Pete thought, turning back to his computer to finish up some paperwork. You can take a troubleshooter of his element, but you can't keep him from finding problems to solve and women to charm.

*