DECEMBER 22nd

MACGYVER'S RESIDENCE

PASADENA


Riley slipped into Mac and Bozer's house, her rig and toolkit in a bag over her shoulder.

(She was helping Bozer make some upgrades to his computer, so that it was keeping up with his improved special effects skills.)

The living/dining/kitchen area of the house was unoccupied (Beth's lights were on, and Riley assumed that Mac was over at her place), so Riley went up the stairs to knock on Bozer's bedroom door.

'Bozer?'

(She had a sneaking suspicion that she knew why Bozer was hiding in his bedroom.)

(Today would have been his and Leanna's one year anniversary, if they hadn't broken up a couple months back.)

'Hnng?' Yeah, he was definitely moping. 'Riley?'

Bozer swore, apparently remembering that they had plans for the day. There was the sound of him scrambling towards the door, and then it opened, to reveal Bozer with slightly-messy facial hair (he clearly hadn't shaved yet), still wearing pyjamas.

Riley crossed her arms, but her expression and voice were gentle.

'Come on, Boze. Shave, brush your teeth and get dressed. We're going to the arcade, I'm going to kick your ass in Guitar Hero, and then we're going to stuff our faces at that Mexican place with the awesome enchiladas.'

He stood there for a moment, before smiling, without his usual exuberance, but a smile nonetheless.

'Thanks, Riley.'

She shrugged.

'What are friends for?'


MEANWHILE, NEXT DOOR…


Mac finished screwing in the last screw, and stepped back to check that the new coat rack he'd made for Beth (it had nine hooks, all made of forks) was level. Satisfied, he put down his drill, just as Beth's voice called out from the kitchen.

'Mac, brunch is ready!'

(She'd gotten back from the hospital early that morning, after having worked a night shift. She'd slept four hours, and now, food was the priority.)

He smiled, and strode down the corridor, noting the veritable feast set out on the kitchen counter (pancakes from Beth's new pancake-making toaster, scrambled eggs, grilled mushrooms and tomatoes and breakfast sausages, plus a small pitcher of maple syrup). Smile widening, he slipped past Beth, who was pouring two cups of coffee into mugs, and grabbed the orange juice from its usual place in the fridge, then two glasses from her 'drinking vessels' cupboard.


THREE WEEKS AGO


'…Jack, none of those viruses are real!'

Mac rolled his eyes as he threaded cubed chicken thighs, zucchini blocks, bell pepper quarters and halloumi chunks onto metal skewers. Jack, who was loading Mac's self-opening Esky with beer and other drinks (at least, he was supposed to be doing that) very stubbornly crossed his arms.

'That's exactly what the government wants you to think, man!'

Meanwhile, Diane Davis just turned to her daughter with a raised eyebrow as they walked through the house to grab matches and fire-starters from the garage to light the fire-pit, as if to say, are they always like that?

Riley just nodded.

'Yup.'

That was said in a very long-suffering way, underscored by affection.

At that moment, there was the sound of loud cursing in Bozer's voice, as the grill shot to life with a fwoof, before going out again.

'Mac!'

The blonde in question looked very sheepish.

Apparently, his latest grill modification hadn't gone too well.

He put down the skewer he was holding and went to wash his hands, before heading out to the deck and his irate best friend.


Fifteen minutes later, Mac came back inside, a large grease stain on his shirt, another smudge on his cheek, and with lightly-singed eyebrows and the obligatory grease under his fingernails.

Out on the deck, Bozer was happy again, since the grill's function had been restored.

At that moment, the front door opened, and in stepped Beth.

(She'd already had a key; Mac had told her she didn't have to knock a few months' back.)

'Hi, everyone!'

They all waved back.

Mac, meanwhile, waved too, really, really wishing that he wasn't covered in grease.

'Hey, Beth!'

It was probably a little too enthusiastic a greeting.

(She'd spent the last four days at her parents' house in West Lafayette for Thanksgiving, albeit a three-days-late Thanksgiving, due to her shifts.)

(He had found that he'd missed her a little, even though she'd only been gone for four days, and was definitely coming back.)

Beth looked him up and down, first with a very doctor-y look on her face, making sure that only his eyebrows had been harmed, before her expression grew amused and curious.

After a moment, she raised her eyebrows at him.

'You can't look like that and not tell me why!'

He shook his head with a wry look and a chuckle, before his expression turned sheepish.

'My latest grill modification, it turns out, wasn't, uh, a good idea.' He gestured out towards the deck, where Bozer was now very focused on the grill and getting it to the perfect temperature (genuinely) and Diane and Riley were watching the newly-lit fire in the fire-pit closely (not genuinely, though reasonably subtly), having shanghaied Jack into setting up a trestle table. 'Bozer wasn't happy, so…'

He shrugged, and gestured out at the newly-fixed grill.

Beth's smile turned teasing.

'Happy roommate, happy life?'

He chuckled, and nodded.

'Something like that.'

They stood there in silence for a moment (one that stretched a little too long and became a touch awkward), before Beth broke it, holding up the paper bag in her hand, branded with the logo of their local grocery store, then passing it to him, cheeks a bit pink.

'There was a garage sale in my parents' neighbourhood, and I saw these and, um, thought of you.'

Mac smiled (probably ridiculously widely) as he took the bag.

'Thanks, Beth.' He gestured to the deck, where Diane and Riley were currently glaring at Jack for not focusing hard enough on the trestle table assembly and focusing too much on spying. 'Would you like to join us for dinner?'

She nodded, still smiling, and still blushing a bit.

'I'd love to.' She gestured vaguely in the direction of her home. 'I'll be back in twenty minutes with a quick dessert. How does vanilla pudding sound?'


Beth had barely gone out the front door when the vultures swooped.

(That is, Jack, Bozer, Riley and Diane came inside, and Jack and Bozer immediately approached Mac, while Riley and Diane, thankfully, hung back a little, though Riley had a little smirk on her face.)

'So…' Jack gestured to the paper bag in Mac's hands, actually rubbing his hands together in anticipation. 'What did she get you?'

Mac rolled his eyes, but knowing that trying not to feed the beast was hopeless, reached into the bag.

'Just something from her parents' neighbour's garage sale.'

Mac pulled out a bundle of at least a dozen old, mismatched forks.

He grinned, several ideas as to what he could do with the forks already starting to swirl around his mind.

Jack and Bozer, meanwhile, just stared at the forks for a moment, before Jack spoke.

'She saw those and thought of you?'

Mac, with more than 50% of his brainpower occupied by fork-centric thoughts, and another 40% engrossed by thoughts of his lovely neighbour, just nodded without thinking through the implications properly.

'Yup.'

Bozer and Jack exchanged another comically-similar look. Bozer actually sniffled, before pointing at the forks.

'That is true love right there, people!'

Jack grinned in a way that was nearly a smirk.

'Amen to that, brother!'

That triggered Mac's brain to redistribute its capacity, and his ears started to burn under his hair as he spluttered.

'Uh…um…ah…' He paused, not that it made much difference. 'Uh, why don't we play charades tonight?'

That, thankfully, actually did the trick, and Jack whooped with excitement, while Bozer pointed at Mac.

'I know what you're doing; you're trying to distract us, but…' Bozer's voice rose in volume. 'You're going down, bro!'

(Charades was one of only five things that Jack and Bozer had determined that Mac was bad at.)

(The other four were Pictionary, singing, dancing and driving.)

Unfortunately, Riley still shot him a little smirk, while Diane smiled knowingly, as Mac walked past them to deposit his forks in his bedroom.


Later that night, after being severely trounced in charades, Mac, already dressed for bed, picked up the bundle of forks, undoing the twine that bound them together, spreading the forks out on his desk.

He picked one up and stared at it, Bozer's earlier words echoing in his head, mixing now and then with Beth's.

('That is true love, right there, people!')

('I saw these and, um, thought of you.')

Mac didn't think he was a coward.

(He'd spent eight years disarming bombs for the Army. Objectively, cowards did not do that.)

He didn't think Beth was one either.

(No coward became an ER doctor and joined an MSF mission in Syria straight out of her residency.)

Still, if one looked at it objectively, neither he nor Beth was being very brave.

In hindsight, they'd missed a window to become something more than friends without realizing it was there. It'd passed months ago.

Now they were close friends, very close friends, and they could be something more, but both of them were too scared to rock the boat and make that first step, too fearful of messing up what they already had.

(He thought it was understandable, all things considered, though he also got why his friends-who-were-family were so exasperated.)

(You probably had to be like him – or Beth - to truly, completely understand just how much it meant, to have somebody who spoke your language and not only accepted your weird, but actually got it and shared it.)

He put down the fork.

But this boat needs rocking, or we'll be stuck aground forever…

He made a face.

I think that metaphor has outlived its usefulness, but the point still stands.

It's time to be brave.

Honestly, after all, I think we might be halfway there already. Drop's not that big.

Mac absent-mindedly picked up another fork. Oddly enough, there was a bird stamped on the bottom of it, and some kind of autumnal scene, complete with a basket of pears.

And then, it hit me.

He grabbed a notebook and started scribbling.


AN: I agree with Bozer that buying Mac garage-sale-forks because you saw them and thought of him is a sign of true love.

And yes, you finally get to see the origin of Mac's OTT-romantic-gesture plan!

And something funny – there exists an absurd Christmas rom-com called My Christmas Love, in which the female lead receives the 12 gifts described in the 12 Days of Christmas, from whom I assume (I'm only twenty minutes into the movie; it's currently playing on TV) is her very friend-zoned male best friend. I very briefly debated actually doing the gifts described in the song, albeit modified/MacGyver-ed like the partridge was, then looked up the lyrics (I'm pretty sure I know the Phineas and Ferb version by heart, but not the real one, which says a lot about me…) and was like, how in the world am I going to do ten lords a'leaping or eight maids a'milking?

An update – I was unfair to the rom-com writers. Sorry! They re-invented some of the gifts (I missed a section of it while eating dinner; the first one was a literal partridge in a pear tree, but the sixth one was six pillows with geese on them, not actually six geese a'laying, and the seventh was 'Seven Swans' champagne – though there were nine dancing ladies and ten leaping lords, or at least, hired dancers in costumes…). Clearly if I had tried hard enough, I could have come up with re-inventions of the gifts from the song, but I'm much happier with what I wound up doing – otherwise, I'd have to come up with really weird 'backstory' fragments for Mac and Beth…they're sufficiently weird on their own, methinks!

Tomorrow's gift for Beth: Ten Improvised Pie Weights.