Chapter Two: Getting Acquainted

At the sound of the jeep's door slamming shut, a small, nervous-looking woman came out of the house. "Are you MacGyver?" she questioned as he drew closer.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, pulling off his sunglasses and tucking them in his pocket before offering his hand.

"I'm Celia Witowski," she introduced, limply returning his handshake.

"Pleased to meet ya."

"Come in; I'll show you where your room is."

"Sure thing," MacGyver agreed, shifting his bag to the other hand and dropping in behind her as she led the way into the house.

"We don't have a spare room," she added as they went up the stairs, "so you'll have to stay in the master bedroom, and I'm afraid there isn't any extra room in the dresser…"

"That's all right; I'm used to living out of a suitcase," MacGyver assured her. He glanced around the room she showed him. "Not bad. Looks like I'll be pretty comfortable here."

"The bathroom's at the head of the stairs, and the kids' rooms are down the hall," she explained, gesturing vaguely. "Their bedtime's at eight…or at least, it's supposed to be. They don't all have to take a bath every night, but do try to make sure they wash off any obvious dirt before they get in bed."

"Yes, ma'am," MacGyver replied with a mock salute. "That your suitcase? I'll carry it down for ya."

"Oh…thank you," she said, sounding faintly surprised.

He gestured her out the door first, then followed her back downstairs.

"I suppose I should show you the kitchen… There's plenty of food, but if you need to buy anything, Dave can reimburse you when he gets back. I don't suppose you cook, but there's bread and cold cuts for sandwiches, or you could always heat a couple cans of soup…"

MacGyver grimaced briefly, wondering if she knew what was in processed lunch meat and canned soup. "We won't starve," he said lightly.

"The kids can show you where everything is," Celia continued, looking around vaguely, her manner constantly apologetic.

MacGyver grinned. "We'll be fine."

Celia glanced at the clock over the sink. "I suppose I should call them so we can head to the airport… Would you mind driving? I admit I'm not terribly comfortable on the highway."

"Be my pleasure."

Celia went to the bottom of the stairs. "Derrick! Cindy! Time to go! Oh," she murmured, turning to MacGyver, "I hope you don't mind them calling you Mr Mac. They've been listening to their father all week…"

MacGyver grinned, waving his hand dismissively. "I'm not that picky; as long as they don't find out my first name, I'm good."

Celia's smile was briefly questioning, as if wondering what his name was, but before she could think of asking, the four children came trooping down the stairs from the attic.

"Dylan!" Celia exclaimed. "How did you get that cut on your face?"

"Cindy scratched me," the little boy responded cheerfully.

"Well, he pulled my hair," his older sister responded with a toss of her head.

Celia smiled weakly. "I'm sure they'll behave for you," she said in a tone of voice that suggested the opposite. "Children, this is Mr MacGyver; MacGyver, Derrick, Cindy, Dylan, and Cassie."

MacGyver felt like a deer in the headlights as he took in the bleeding scratch on Dylan's face and wondered what he had gotten himself into. He had assumed this would be easy compared to chaperoning a group of young gang members, but suddenly he found himself wondering why no one else had wanted the job.

Well, these kids wouldn't be out to kill each other, anyway…at least, not intentionally…and if one of them did get hurt at least he wouldn't have to airlift him out in a damaged plane.

"Pleased to meet ya," he said with only a moment's hesitation, extending his hand to the oldest and forcing a smile that became real as he met little Cassie's dimpled grin.

Derrick shook his black hair out of his face as he returned MacGyver's handshake, and Celia reached to run her fingers through it. "Maybe you can convince Derrick to get a haircut," she suggested.

"Aw, Mom!" Derrick protested.

MacGyver raised an eyebrow, and Celia sighed. "No, probably not," she realized, taking in his own shaggy hair. "Dylan, wash that scratch and come meet us outside."

"'Kay," Dylan agreed, running for the downstairs bathroom as MacGyver picked up Celia's suitcase and hurried to open the door for her, the kids trooping out behind them.

"Six would be a pretty tight fit in my jeep," MacGyver observed; "better let me have the keys to that station wagon."

"Oh, of course; here."

"Why do we all hafta come?" Derrick protested. "We'd be all right by ourselves till he got back."

"No," Celia said with surprising firmness.

"But it'll be boring!" Derrick protested. "C'mon, Ma; we're old enough."

MacGyver shook his head as he put Celia's suitcase in the back and slammed it shut. At ten, Derrick was hardly old enough to be minding four younger siblings without an adult nearby.

"Well…" Celia said doubtfully.

"Everybody in!" MacGyver called. "Derrick, you, too."

Derrick sighed but obeyed the inflexible tone of MacGyver's voice.

"Thank you," Celia whispered as MacGyver held her door for her.

MacGyver grinned and shut the door, understanding that her thanks was for getting Derrick into the car without further fuss. "C'mon, let's go!" he called as Dylan came running from the house. He glanced quickly at the scratch on Dylan's face, checking to be sure it was cleaned thoroughly enough.

"Hey!" Dylan protested. "Cassie! You took the window seat!"

Cassie stuck out her tongue at him, and Dylan's scowl darkened.

MacGyver sighed. "Just get in, Dylan," he told him, the faintest edge of impatience in his voice. "You can have the window seat on the way back." He hurried around the front of the station wagon and got into the driver's seat, taking a moment to adjust the seat and mirrors to suit his taller frame as Dylan slowly got in and fastened his seatbelt.

"All set? Then we're off!"

"I assume you know the way to the airport?" Celia asked as MacGyver drove onto the highway.

"You bet. Just relax an' enjoy the ride."

Celia smiled faintly, leaning back against her seat. "I will," she murmured, closing her eyes and feeling as if her vacation had already begun.

oOo

At the gate, Celia hugged all the children one last time, though Derrick pulled away quickly.

"You be good for Mr MacGyver," she warned, though without much assurance in her voice that they actually would.

"Last call, ma'am," a stewardess reminded her.

"Go on," MacGyver told her. "We'll be fine."

"Thank you!" she exclaimed, then turned and hurried toward the door. "Coming, coming!"

"Come on!" Cindy cried. "Let's watch out the window and see her take off!"

The kids hurried to press against the window, MacGyver following to stand behind them. Just as they were starting to get antsy, the plane began taxiing toward the runway.

"Think you'll get a better view from that window," MacGyver commented, and the kids followed his suggestion just in time to see the plane picking up speed.

"There it goes!" Cindy exclaimed as the nose of the plane lifted off the ground.

MacGyver watched the plane take off with a faraway smile in his eyes. There was something exhilarating about watching a plane become airborne that made him forget his fear of heights and wish he could soar with it.

"Goodbye, Mama!" Cassie and Dylan called, waving frantically.

"Aw, she can't see or hear you," Derrick scoffed.

"She might!" Dylan insisted.

"Uh-huh!" Cassie agreed, putting her hands on her hips. *

MacGyver sighed, coming back down to earth at the sound of the children's arguing voices. "Doesn't matter; she knows you're wavin' even if she can't see ya."

With the plane out of sight, the kids turned to look at MacGyver, giving him the uncomfortable feeling they were sizing him up.

"Hey, I don't know about you, but I'm hungry; what do you say we stop for something to eat?"

"At a restaurant?" Cindy demanded.

"Sure."

"An' can we get anything we want?"

"Anything."

"Even ice cream?"

MacGyver chuckled. "After some real food, yeah."

"Wow," Cindy breathed. "Ma and Daddy never take us to restaurants."

MacGyver had a moment's apprehension as he pondered why that might be, but let himself believe it was because of the cost of taking four children out to eat.

The kids behaved themselves through the meal with only an occasional squabble, but MacGyver knew it was too soon to let down his guard. They were still feeling him out, testing how far they could push him and whether he meant what he said.

"I get the window seat!" Dylan crowed, running to the car ahead of the others.

"That's right," MacGyver agreed. "Hop in, everyone."

It was a long car ride back, and little Cassie was nodding by the time they reached the house. She lifted her head sleepily as MacGyver lifted her out. "Daddy?"

"No, baby," he murmured, "it's MacGyver. That all right?"

"Uh-uh," she yawned, cuddling against him as he carried her into the house. "You're nice."

And MacGyver let himself believe that having won them over, the rest of the week would be easy.

Next chapter coming next week!

* Illustration for this scene can be found at www . deviantart . com [slash] femalechauvinist [slash] art [slash] Airborne-876667036

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