MACGYVER'S RESIDENCE
LA
2017
Mac walked back into his house, getting a little lost in his own head as he stared at the letter in front of him, which was covered with postmarks indicating that it'd been, quite literally, all around the world, including to Buenos Aires, Montevideo, Kiev, Bangkok and Perth.
It'd been initially addressed to James MacGyver, and not knowing where else to send it, Mac had mailed it to the little cottage in Tahoe that his mother had adored, figuring that his father probably wouldn't have sold it because of that.
The postal services of many countries had apparently failed to find him, because it'd been postmarked, finally, with return-to-sender.
Mac sighed, that little bubble of hope that'd been in his chest ever since that fateful day he'd sent the letter six months ago bursting.
(He'd just gotten home for good from The Sandbox, honourably discharged from the Army after eight years of service. He'd realized out there, after far too many near-misses – after Al and every other loss that'd piled up – that he would regret it forever if he didn't at least try and rebuild their relationship and get answers to the many, many questions he had.)
The JPL engineer walked into the kitchen/living area, where his friends-who-had-become-family were preparing dinner.
Bozer, an FBI forensic accountant and his best friend since childhood, was putting together burgers at the counter, lecturing his girlfriend Leanna, also of the FBI, on the correct way of making a patty. On Leanna's other side, her best friend, FBI white-hat Riley Davis, was chopping cabbage for coleslaw, 'aided' by her boyfriend, bounty hunter Billy Colton, who was grinning in a way that was almost a smirk. On the other side of the island, FBI forensic analyst Jill Morgan was pouring glasses of wine, while her boyfriend Alex Lucas, who just-so-happened to work with Mac at JPL (coincidences were statistically inevitable) whipped cream using the modified hand mixer Mac had put together a couple of weeks ago. The whipped cream was going to go on the blueberry pie that Jill's college roommate and best friend, Huntington's ER's newest attending physician, Beth Taylor, was taking out of a box.
Mac walked over to the counter, running a hand through his hair as several pairs of concerned eyes turned to him.
(Family was always a little too up in each other's business.)
He held up the letter, a sardonic smile on his face tinged with bitterness.
'My letter to my dad racked up a lot of frequent flyer miles.'
'I'm sorry, bro.'
Bozer, despite the mincemeat in his hands, reached out to somewhat-awkwardly give Mac a hug. Beth reached out and patted his arm gently, shooting him a sympathetic smile, while Jill pressed a generous glass of wine into his hands.
Meanwhile, Billy glanced at Mac, then gestured at the letter, which Mac handed over automatically. Billy was really good at finding people. The bounty hunter started studying the letter as Riley looked over his shoulder. Between the two of them, they probably could have tracked down his father for him, but Mac had wanted to reach out and do it himself, something which they all respected.
Alex tossed him the 7-by-7 Rubik's cube he carried everywhere with him, and with a little smile (he had a great family – even if he never found his father), Mac sat down and got to work solving it. When he was done a mere forty seconds later, there was a little bowl of candied nuts sitting next to his wine glass. Beth nudged it a little closer to him, and he smiled a little wider and passed the Rubik's cube off to her after scrambling it, sipping some wine and tossing the nuts alternately into his own mouth and Alex's.
Meanwhile, the delicious smell of Bozer's burgers ('It's gonna be a flavour explosion, 100% guaranteed or your money back!') permeated the air.
FOUR MONTHS LATER
'…I'm sorry, man, but I can't find him.'
Billy sounded apologetic, and frustrated. Idly, Mac noted that Riley had sounded much the same when she'd told him, a month ago, that his dad had literally no online presence, and hence, she wouldn't be able to find him. It was like he'd disappeared off the face of the Earth.
Mac nodded in resignation. No offence to Billy, but he'd expected as much after Riley, Jill and Leanna's digging, plus him, Beth, Bozer and Alex going through all the old things in the attic from his childhood home in Mission City (which he'd rented out after his grandpa passed) and chasing up any leads from there had come up blank.
(That had included a trip to Paris to talk to an old professor that his dad had corresponded with years and years ago that Beth had gone with him on.)
(It was universally agreed among his friends that letting him go alone and hence almost-certainly fall into the rabbit hole in his mind was a Bad Idea, and they thus refused to let him do it, no matter his protests that this was his job, his quest; they didn't need to sacrifice their free time and vacation days.)
(Beth had gone with him because only she, Alex and Leanna spoke French, and it was the least awkward and weird to take her.)
(It was not, as everyone else liked to tease him, a romantic trip, some Grand Romantic Gesture he was using to finally ask her out.)
(At least, that hadn't been the plan. It'd kind of happened anyway. The title of the City of Love had to come from somewhere, Mac supposed.)
Mac reached out and grasped Billy's hand, taking a step forward and patting him on the back, a gesture that Billy returned.
'Thanks for searching.'
Billy smiled back at him, and held out the cake box he was carrying.
'Mama sends her apologies too.' Mama Colton, Billy's mom, a formidable bounty hunter and family matriarch, made excellent pies. Mac was 95% sure that inside the cake box was one of her famous buttermilk pies, the one that Beth said was almost as good as pumpkin pie. (Given Beth's irrational – and adorable - fondness for pumpkin pie – science-based pun unintended – that was saying a lot.) Billy's expression shifted into something more teasing. 'And she says you better share that with your lady, if you know what's good for you.'
Mac chuckled, and nodded, taking the box.
'Oh, I definitely will.'
Billy dipped his hat at him, then headed out of Mac's home, as the blonde took the pie into the kitchen and put it in the fridge, before checking the time. Beth was still at work, and wouldn't be off for another three hours…
Which gave him time to take one last look at that stash of letters they'd found. Maybe there was something they'd missed.
Maybe.
ONE MONTH LATER
His doorbell rang. Brow furrowing, Mac put down the old toaster he was fixing (the owner of his favourite appliances shop had sold it to him for practically nothing, as it was apparently 'irreparable'), and walked over to the front door and opened it.
Standing on his doorstep was a very short woman whom he recognized as Bozer, Leanna, Riley and Jill's boss, Matilda Webber, who was apparently almost-universally known as Matty to her face and Matty the Hun behind her back.
Without preamble, she held out a folder to him, which after a moment of hesitation and shock, he took.
'For your eyes only.' She said that was if it were a warning. Mac, still a little shocked, nodded seriously. Her expression softened a touch, he swore. 'Good luck finding him, Baby Einstein.'
And with that, she turned and left, leaving him still processing and holding the folder.
He shook himself out of it, went inside on autopilot and sat down at his desk in his bedroom, opening the folder and starting to read.
JACK'S RESIDENCE
FOUR DAYS LATER
Jack was just sitting on his couch, watching Cowboys highlights on the big screen, when there was a knock on his front door.
He got up off the couch, idly wondering if his neighbour's son Tommy had done something mischievous and slightly illegal again (like the time when he'd 'stolen' Jack's stuff on some silly dare), and limped a little over to his front door (his knee was bothering him today, but he hated using the cane) and opened it.
On the other side, there was a young, unreasonably good-looking blonde man, looking somewhat awkward.
Something about him seemed vaguely familiar.
'Um, hi. Mr Dalton?' Jack nodded, and the blonde's smile widened a little. He held up a piece of paper that Jack vaguely recognized. 'My name's Angus MacGyver, and I'm, uh, looking for my dad, James. I…I think you knew him, a couple of years ago?'
As soon as he heard the name, Jack couldn't help but flash back to that fateful mission for the Agency. His very last, it turned out.
His knee ached a little more.
Still, he nodded at the young man who definitely deserved answers, all the ones that Jack could give, anyway.
(Jim had been a tight-lipped, arrogant, rather cold pain-in-the-ass, in Jack's not-so-humble opinion.)
'Yeah, I did.' Jack opened the door a little wider, eyeing up the younger MacGyver for a moment. 'You'd better come in, son.'
AN: With thanks to Kingskid.