Jack could hear the pair coming back well before he saw them in the doorway. Mac had done okay for a few minutes while sipping hot beverages, but he'd been hacking and coughing his way through the house for the last quarter hour. Jack was tempted to gimp his way to wherever they were and order him back onto the couch.

He didn't think that would go over very well with his partner, or with Sabine. And he figured his new favorite nurse … and yeah, she was one he actually liked a lot (maybe because she was retired, he thought) … would order Mac back under his blanket herself if she thought he really wasn't alright.

He didn't know what they were going to do if the grandson showed up with a whole gang of his goons, but he supposed they'd improvise like they always did. It had gotten them this far. When Sabine and Mac returned, Jack was pleased with the small haul of weapons as well as the bags of ammo, which Mac set down carefully beside him on the couch.

Mac made sure he had Jack's attention.

"Hey, I'm gonna go get a look at the shed and see what the security system and layout looks like. Be back in five."

"Like hell you will."

Jack got to his feet, wincing as he put some weight on the ankle, but using the cane to mitigate the problem it caused with his balance.

"Jack, there's no reason for you to limp out there while I just go get a look at things and …"

"There is if our guy shows up while you're still gettin' the lay of the land, kid. And my week has already sucked enough without it endin' with a bullet in your back, ya hear?"

"Don't you need to check these guns over and get them loaded?"

"Not as much as I need to watch your back in the moment, brother."

"Jack, for once, could you just …"

"Both of you sit," Sabine said in a tone that didn't allow for the mistake that it was a suggestion.

Both men turned to face her. And both spoke at the same time, in near perfect contradiction of each other's words. "Sabine, I'm fine to run outside for five minutes on my own." "Sabine, I'm he's in no kinda shape to go runnin' around outside all on his own.

"Oh, I am sorry," she said, raising her eyebrows. "I have misspoken. Sit the hell down!" She didn't raise her voice, but the sentence coming out of that sweet old lady's mouth in that particular tone, was shocking enough that they both sank down on the nearest seat, Jack on the couch behind him, and Mac in the nearby chair so as not to disturb the new stockpile of functioning weapons.

"You," she pointed severely at Mac. "Are sick. I suspect you have pneumonia."

She turned her fierce wrinkled gaze at Jack.

"You have the starting of an infection in that graze wound. And a broken ankle … and it is not badly broken, but you will damage yourself out of a job if you keep walking on it so much. And don't try to tell me you do some quiet office job. A man your age … in the shape you are in … those callouses on your gun hand … the fact that you are in a foreign country carrying a weapon … Helping people, indeed."

Jack's eyes went wide, and he glanced at Mac who was wearing a similar expression. "Hey, now," Jack started.

"Young man, I was a military nurse. You will do better to save your strength for who and what ever may knock on my door soon." She turned back to Mac. "I understand both of you will have to go out there at some point. The closer you are to your people arriving and getting you."

Mac gave a spare headshake, but looked up into her eyes, not rising, but making it clear he intended to. "Sabine, I need to get a look at that shed."

She nodded. "And so you will. I will take my phone and photograph everything and bring it back to you."

"Sabine … It's snowing like the end of the world out there," Mac said, squinting. He wouldn't add, 'And you're a little old lady and I can't let you do that', but he really sort of wanted to.

"I mentioned that I can hear the rasp in your breath from here, yes? No? Well, I will mention it now. I am certain it is at least bronchitis, Angus. I may be old, I may even have moments where I am frail. But I am not so retired that I am going to let sick and injured men hurt themselves playing hero when that is not what the situation calls for."

Mac swallowed, chastened. So did Jack, for that matter.

"Jack Dalton will sit," she said with appropriate emphasis. "And clean and load these weapons."

Jack gave her a half smile and nodded. He knew when he was beat.

"Angus MacGyver, you will drink the broth that I left on the stove for you while I go take those pictures. While you are at it, I left the stump remover on the counter. The powdered sugar is in the cupboard to the left."

Mac couldn't help the half smile that quirked up his lips. "Yes, ma'am," he agreed, the humor bright in his voice. He cleared his throat. "I forget that nurses know a lot of chemistry, too sometimes."

"And Germans who lived through lean times, which my childhood very much was, know how to make the best of what we have." She smiled at him then, her expression no longer the stern no-nonsense once she had been wearing.

Mac nodded. "Fair enough." He got up out of the chair to head into the kitchen. "Any chance you have drain cleaner, too?"

"Under the kitchen sink," she replied, moving to get her coat and go get her phone off its charger. "Anything else?" she smiled.

"No, but thank you," Mac answered, heading in the opposite direction. "I already saw your recycling containers. I think I'm good … Wait … Candles?"

"Next to the dishwasher … I will be back in five minutes."

She left out her side door. Jack called at Mac's back, "You really just gonna go to the kitchen and play around with chemicals instead of going out there and getting a look at that shed yourself?"

Mac turned. "You really gonna just sit there cleaning those guns?"

"I'm not gonna argue with her … It's her house."

"Yeah, and she's a little scary when she's annoyed, am I right?"

"She's not scary," Jack said half grinning.

"Sure. And neither is Sully. Who you are totally looking forward to spending some quality time with." The sarcasm was not even a little subtle. Mac laughed at Jack's expression, then he headed for the kitchen, burying a cough in the crook of his arm.

Kid wasn't wrong. Jack couldn't help an eloquent sigh as he started going through the weapons in order of his priority.

"Ah, man. Merry freaking Christmas."