Let's Be Enemies
By: Ridley C. James
A/N: Well, this was a little harder than I thought, as I found myself grieving this loss just a bit, but I am focusing on new beginnings. Since it sounds like tonight's episode is really focusing on building the bond between Matty and Mac, I figured I am not the only one who needs a reminder of the bond between Mac and Jack, one that can never be recreated or replaced. I challenge other writers to do the same this week, even if it is just a one shot or POV. Remind us. Remind everyone that Jack is who belongs at Mac's side. No one can fill his spot. So, I hope my contribution makes us all feel a little better. And Christmas is the perfect time of the year to find hope in what seems like the end. I truly believe there are good things to come, especially here in the world of fiction. Enjoy, and as always I welcome your reviews and thoughts. Thanks to Mary, who kept my wild emotions in check, although we have both decided there needs to be LOTS of hurt/comfort potential in the coming chapters to aleve all our sadness!
RCJ
"It is good that a man's enemies want him dead, for it proves he has lived a life of worth."
–Forrest Carter, The Outlaw Josey Wales
The smell of cinnamon and vanilla was downright heavenly when Jack Dalton turned the key and managed to push the door open. Christmas lights twinkled prettily around the entrance in the early dawn light. A polar bear in full on Santa swag brought a tired smile to his bruised face, his body aching with every step. Not since his last tour in the desert had the sweet relief of coming home been so apt or poignant. He could practically hear Bing Crosby crooning promises to make it back for the holidays even though technically Jack wasn't even at his place of residence, but that of his best friend's. Mac. Angus MacGyver was for all intents and purposes as much a representation of home as tinsel and presents on a tree.
Maybe it was the fact he'd been gone for weeks, that Jack had missed freaking Thanksgiving with his little family for the first time in eight years, spending it in Brazil instead of California or Texas that brought up the unusual wave of sentimentality, but he nearly wept when he dropped his go bag and caught the faint sound of Christmas music from the kitchen along with the wafting aroma of one of Bozer's infamous breakfasts.
"Anyone home?" Jack called out, knowing they weren't expecting him, especially not at 6:00 in the morning on a Saturday. He figured Bozer might still be in bed or at Leanna's place, but was oddly pleased when the music was lowered and his young teammate rounded the corner, a surprised expression quickly turning to one of welcome.
"Jack!" Bozer met the older man with one of his trademark hugs. The enthusiastic greeting nearly bowled Jack over, awaking every bump and bruise he'd gotten during the mission, including reigniting the burn in the shoulder wound he'd taken only yesterday as they finally swept the last of the drug ring they'd tagged. Bozer was as excitable as his grandparent's Labradors but Jack considered the pain worth it as a sense of familiarity and normalcy overcame his jagged nerves like a rare snowfall settling on the Texas plains. "You finally made it home."
"With a week to spare before Christmas." Jack laughed, pulling from the hold slightly when Bozer actually pounded him hard on the back. He bit back a groan, when his ribs protested."Easy there, Tiger. I haven't had my coffee yet."
Bozer let him go, his eyes going from Jack's face to the sling he was sporting. "It looks like you've had a helluva time instead."
"I took some lucky punches, had a brush with a little lead…" Jack brought his hand to cradle the hurt arm. Forcing his most carefree grin he felt his split lip pull. He wasn't about to tell Bozer a cell of the drug dealers had gotten the drop on him, shot him during his barely managed escape. Instead, Jack reached out and gripped Bozer's shoulder, giving him a little push. "You know that's how Captain Jack Dalton rolls."
"Unhuh," Bozer gave a slight shake of his head. He rolled his eyes. "I know the Captain is not as invincible as he thinks he is. Mac is going to…"
"Speaking of our boy," Jack interrupted, stepping around the younger man to head for the kitchen. He didn't need Bozer to give him a preview of what his partner was no doubt going to have to say about the way Jack looked. Besides, the coffee really was calling his name. He'd held back on the caffeine during his mission, needing all his senses extra sharp. But being home naturally had his guards lowering, exhaustion rearing its head. "Where is Mac?"
"Out for his run." Bozer followed, cutting around Jack to keep him from invading his precious space. He pointed to the bar, and Jack gratefully took a seat at the island even though he pulled an exaggerated eye roll at the mother hen move just to keep up pretenses.
"And why are you up on at the crack of dawn on a Saturday preparing a big meal?" Jack's gaze went to the stove where the remnants of flour, mixing bowls and pots and pans littered the top, brows drawing slightly together in question. He took another sniff of the air. "Homemade cinnamon rolls? Did you use Nana Beth's recipe?"
"Maybe. And if I did there's no special reason." Bozer placed Jack's favorite mug in front of him, full of coffee, but with just enough room for a splash of half and half and the hazel nut syrup that Mac kept stocked. He made a point of avoiding Jack's gaze as he moved to retrieve the cream from the refrigerator, shrugging. "Matty called last night to let us know we are expected at a meeting this morning about our new assignment and I just wanted to give Mac a reason to look forward to going to work."
"Since when do we need to bribe the boy wonder with pastries to get him to go into the office?" Jack raised a brow, slipping out of the sling so he could take both the syrup and milk from Bozer. "Isn't it usually the other way around-one of us bribing him to actually take some time off?"
"Should you be doing that?" Bozer asked, avoiding Jack's question. Jack detected the edge in the other man's voice. It was a Bozer-tell. A sure sign he had more to say but was holding back.
Jack stopped with the second dollop of syrup, gave a slow smile. "Damn, Boze, I know you're a purist when it comes to coffee, man, but…"
Bozer sighed, waving a hand for Jack to continue with this doctoring of the drink. "I don't mean all the extra sugar and fat you're dumping into the perfectly flavorful roast and you know it. I'm referring to the sling?"
"I guess you're not the only one who can circumvent conversation." Jack put the lid back on the hazelnut, picking up the mug with both hands. He flashed Bozer another grin over the rim before taking a long delicious drink.
"Fine." Bozer moved to grab his own mug from the stove top, before claiming the other bar stool. "If you must know, Mac's not exactly been enthusiastic about going to work these days, not since you've been gone and Matty's kept us on pretty low key assignments. He's spent the last week holed up in the lab."
Jack snorted. "So dealing with the deadliest bomb maker in the business is low key? Team Phoenix is hardcore, but that's extreme even for us."
"That assignment sort of fell into our laps." Bozer took a drink, giving a shrug, his eyes finally meeting Jack's. "You know Mac wasn't about to let that chance to take down The Ghost pass him by, especially not after the dinner in Pena's honor stirred up all those memories."
"I know." And Jack did. He'd wanted to attend the dinner so damn badly. He had a feeling that his assignment two days before was not a coincidence. He'd wanted to go, not only to support Mac, but to pay his respects to Pena. The man had meant a lot to Jack's best friend, and he gave the man credit for teaching Mac what he needed to know to survive his stint in the Army, not to mention save a whole bunch of lives in the process, including Jack's on more than one occasion.
"Matty was on board as well," Bozer continued, breaking into Jack's bleak thoughts. Jack blinked.
"Of course she was." Jack still didn't like that their director hadn't bothered to inform him of what was going on with the damn mission, even after they'd lost track of Mac. She could have called, even if Oversight had ordered her not to interrupt his current job. James and Matilda obviously knew Jack would have moved Heaven and earth to make it to Paris. Jack would have never forgiven her or Oversight if things had turned out differently. He rubbed a hand over his aching jaw, letting the pain ground him, giving his hands something to do. All of the sudden he felt jittery. "I understand why she acted on it. It was the most actionable intel anyone had on the man in years."
"Aside from that mess, Matty's been keeping us out of the loop. It's like we catch one mission, but then you get sent off on another job." Bozer frowned into his coffee then lifted his eyes to meet Jack's, his gaze earnest. "I know you're head of the Phoenix tactical unit, Jack, but you've never been pulled from our team like this. Landry usually covers missions. What do you think is really going on?"
For a moment he stared into his coffee, before swallowing another mouth full. What Jack thought was that James MacGyver was trying to kill him. Sure, it wasn't an overt attack. Such maneuvers would never have crossed Oversight's brilliant mind, obviously knowing Jack would obliterate him in any open confrontation and to do such would further alienate Mac. Instead, Jack imagined the bastard was being sneaky, pulling a move reminiscent of one of Nana Beth's favorite Sunday School stories. James was King David sending his competition, Uriah, to the bloody battlefront in hopes to be rid of him. That underhanded move of Biblical proportion had been spurred by a woman, but Jack figured the beauty of Bathsheba probably paled when it came to the love of a man's only son.
"Damned if I know, Boze. I've just been doing what the powers that be tell me to do."
Jack set the mug down, running a hand over his face, wincing when he came in contact with the cut on his lip. He'd purposively not shaved on the plane ride home, hoping the short beard would hide some of the bruises.
"So you agree with Mac and think it's James who keeps pushing for you to work these extra jobs."
Jack looked at Bozer. It wasn't like he was going to spill his slightly paranoid theory to his younger teammate. Because it was just that- theory. One likely colored by Jack's growing distrust of Oversight. Besides Bozer liked James MacGyver, had even pushed for Mac to be more proactive in the reconciliation department. Jack knew it was coming from the right place, but he also wished Bozer and Riley would back off on what they thought was helpful advice. His girl was in a good place with her daddy, but Elwood, while somewhat of a deadbeat and prone to drink himself right into a bad spot and out of Riley's life on a regular occasion, was not sinister or dangerous. Jack wasn't so convinced the same could be said for James MacGyver.
"He's the boss." Jack said finally with a shrug, feigning nonchalance. The movement sent a stab up to the back of his skull. Him and Mac hadn't talked about the possibilities of why Jack was being lent out to other teams on a regular basis, but he knew the kid wasn't thrilled. "Who else would it be?"
James was jealous. Jack had known that from the get go, but since the incident on The Fourth of July when Mac had asked his father to leave Austin, tensions had mounted. They didn't run into Oversight in the office, but he made his presence known. The former Delta couldn't help but to wonder if his wealth of new responsibilities wasn't some plan on James's part to work Jack to complete exhaustion, spreading him so thin, that maybe, just maybe Jack, top-notch agent, skilled sniper and former special ops commander, would miss a beat, and finish the job for him by slipping up in the field. Jack wasn't sure if James was dirty enough to have intentionally tacked on the added emotional element or if that was merely a bonus. Putting thousands of miles between Jack and his priority goal, splitting his attention by keeping him away from Mac and their team put Jack in a distracted state of mind. Eight years of working together with Mac had him used to relying on the kid to have his back. His tac team was great but they were no Angus MacGyver. Maybe James was stupid enough to believe he'd force Jack to quit, something that wasn't even in the realm of possibility.
"What would be the purpose in him doing that?" Bozer asked naively, and Jack kept his eyes on his coffee as a few quick answers leapt to mind.
Punishment. Payback. Parental power struggle.
"Jack?"
"Sorry." Jack cleared his throat, rubbing at his burning eyes. "I guess I'm more tired than I thought, man. I probably should have just gone on home."
"But you wanted to check on Mac?" Bozer's knowing grin told Jack he was off the hook for the moment. At least as far as his theories about Oversight.
"He didn't sound so great the last few times we talked." Jack took another drink of his coffee. "I mean he sounded like Mac, but like he was trying too hard to sound like Mac…if you know what I mean."
"I told you I would keep an eye on him." Bozer looked slightly offended and Jack was quick to backpedal. He didn't want Bozer to think he didn't trust him, but truth be told there wasn't anyone that Jack trusted completely to watch the kid. That had been his job for so long, it seemed impossible to turn over, even to the one other person he knew loved and understood Mac almost as well as him.
"I'm sure you did a fine job, man. This Ghost thing though…coming on the heels of all the other months of bullshit. It just has the potential to stir up a lot of stuff from the past." Jack scratched at his stubbles, wincing slightly when his fingers hit a tender spot.
"From the war?" Bozer said gravely, his eyes growing distant. He'd been witness to the struggles Mac had suffered through when he and Jack first came home from Afghanistan. To his credit, Bozer had truly taken a step back and trusted Jack to take the lead, actually listened when Jack explained why Bozer couldn't tackle the situation with his usual formula of extra care, attention, and homemade chicken noodle soup. No matter how good the intentions, hovering and smothering was not something Mac tolerated when he was in a certain head space.
"Pena's still a tender spot." Jack flexed his fingers around the warm ceramic mug, noting the blue silver flakes in the ceramic glaze. The Cowboys emblem was chipped in one spot from years of use. If Jack remembered correctly the mug was ironically a gift from the first Christmas Jack spent stateside with Mac and Bozer.
"Did he tell you The Ghost told him the bomb that killed Pena was meant for Mac?" Bozer looked back at Jack, face serious and void of his typical enthusiasm.
"Yeah." The question brought Jack's thoughts from more pleasant times. His gut twisted as he thought about Mac haltingly telling him about that particular revelation. He almost wished the serial bomber was still alive just so he could kill him slowly and in the most painful way possible. A quick blade to the heart was too good for him, even if said blade was delivered by his own daughter. Karma could literally be a bitch with a chip on her shoulder. He rubbed a hand over his mouth, finding no comfort in The Ghost's demise or his killer's revenge. She had, after all, used Mac and then abandoned him to certain doom. "The kid let that twist him up just like the old bastard planned."
"So you don't think it's true? Does that mean you don't believe he also hid another bomb with Mac's name on it?" Bozer sat up straighter.
"I don't know if The Ghost really did plan on taking Mac out and killed Pena instead." Mac had made a name for himself quickly in the desert. So Jack knew it was entirely possible he came across as a threat, a challenge to a sociopath like The Ghost, who probably saw the kid as his contemporary in the odd way that Murdoc seemed to as well.
Jack and Mac both had bounties put on their heads several times by Taliban and other criminal element looking to pick off the most prominent threats to their agenda. Whether what the Ghost taunted was true or not, Jack was certain that Mac would heap the guilt on himself either way. He gripped the coffee mug tighter. "But I do know it's something Mac will roll over and over in his big old brain until he makes himself sick with it. He's probably already started some kind of database looking for possible targets of where the bomb might be, calculating some statistical likelihood."
"Damn," Bozer breathed, tapping his fingers on the island. "Like that secret computer program he created to continually search for Nikki when he told you he wasn't looking for her anymore? I hadn't even thought of that."
Jack hadn't really considered that scenario either. He winced at the particular memory. When Bozer had brought him Mac's laptop with the methodical research quarry on Nikki Carpenter he'd been blindsided by not only Mac's doggedness verging on obsession, but by his own complacency in what was happening with his partner. Bozer, believing Nikki dead, had thought it was some sort of reaction to grief, or a blatant sign of Mac's denial. Jack understood that it was neither of those but his best friend's blind determination to stop Nikki before someone else was hurt by her. Mac could not let it alone, not when he believed Nikki was a threat and that he was partially to blame for her being set loose on the world.
It was like in the desert when the kid thought there was an IED he hadn't found. Mac could not just leave a ticking time bomb for someone else to stumble onto, even a theoretical one. The bomb nerd sometimes acted as if he had put the damn things in the sand himself and therefore had to reclaim them all. Possibilities pushed the genius's over sensitive responsibility buttons in a manner that simply prevented him from walking away. Mac's keen intellect and ability to find the solution for almost any problem presented was a crazy amazing gift, right up until the point it became a scary, dangerous character flaw.
"Has he been sleeping okay?" Jack asked, hoping like hell the kid wasn't actually using every waking moment to launch some secret search for a bomb. Real or not, it seemed The Ghost had done a bang up job of planting it in Mac's mind nonetheless. He shifted on the stool, stiff muscles protesting.
"I think so," Bozer hedged. He sighed, something else showing briefly on his face, but passing too quickly for Jack's exhausted brain to catch on. "Honestly, I wouldn't know, Jack." He glanced up, guilt now flashing in his dark eyes. "I've been staying at Leanna's a lot lately."
Jack gave a light chuckle. "Dude, don't look at me like I'm Nana Beth about to launch into some heart to heart about the sanctity of the marital bed and the importance of keeping yourself pure until your wedding day. I'm not about to throw a stone when I live in a glass castle, myself."
Bozer smirked, still looking a bit chagrinned. "I wasn't worried about you thinking less of me for sleeping at my girlfriends, but more that I haven't been around as much for Mac."
"Mac is a grown man perfectly capable of living on his own and taking care of himself." Jack tried not to look away under his teammate's incredulous scrutiny. Sure Jack sometimes acted as if Mac needed a monitor twenty-four seven, but that was an offshoot of Jack's very own 'highly sensitive Overwatch button' and not some insight about the kid being unable to care for himself. Mac was the most capable person Jack had ever known. He gave Bozer a pointed look, hoping to alieve any responsibility he'd somehow cast on the other man's shoulders. "You're allowed to have a life, Boze. I know Mac is happy for you. So am I."
"Then you'll think about moving in here if I leave."
"Wait, what?" Jack was taken aback and rendered speechless for a moment. Leave it to Bozer to throw a hard drive from left field. He slowly sat his mug back onto the counter, eyeing Bozer once more. "Back up, homey…"
"I mean you said it yourself, Jack. You could have gone straight to your apartment after coming off such a long mission. Anyone else as exhausted and injured as you obviously are would have crashed, but instead you came here first. You know why? This is your real home. You're here most of the time anyway," Bozer drew his brows together. "Rent free I might add."
"Hey," Jack returned the frown. "I buy groceries."
"You buy beer and Doritos, maybe bring over a pizza."
"That constitutes rations."
Bozer sighed. He ran a hand over his hair. "All I'm saying is that I would feel a lot better about considering the next step in my relationship with Leanna by accepting her invite to share her place, if you would consider taking on a more permanent move."
"I think you're forgetting one very important piece of the puzzle here, Bozer." Jack picked up his coffee once more, took a long drink. "Like whose name is on the lease. No offense brother, but this is Mac's house and I'm not sure he'd appreciate us negotiating me taking on your room and board without his input."
"I know Mac's told you more than once that the spare room is yours whenever you wanted it. In fact, I know he offered it to you when you both came back from Afghanistan. If he thought you would feel better about being here…" Bozer fiddled with the lid of the creamer, looking slightly sheepish at the prospect of manipulating their best friend for his own good. "It's not that I don't think Mac would be okay on his own, it's just that whether he'd ever admit it or not, sometimes he needs someone around to keep him out of that huge brain of his. If not…"
"He get's lost," Jack finished, squinting slightly as the first hints of a headache started to pound behind his eyes. He understood understanding Bozer's concerns. Sometimes Jack believed Mac would be completely fine without another soul around as long as he had his gadgets and books.
"Exactly." Bozer nodded, seriously. "And he'd never eat anything hot. He'd just exist on power bars and protein shakes."
"Surely you don't' expect me to step in as head chef?" Jack arched a brow. He had no doubt his best friend would have been fine with him taking up residence seeing as how Bozer wasn't exactly exaggerating the time he already spent there. He and Mac had shared a much smaller space in Afghanistan with neither coming out worse for it. Jack would sure as hell feel better especially if Bozer moved out.
Bozer was admittedly more GoldenDoodle than Rottweiller, but him being with Mac always gave Jack a sense of security. It wasn't as if Jack hadn't considered proposing the idea himself, especially after Murdoc, The Ghost and every other psycho seemed to be well-aware of where Angus MacGyver resided, but Jack had always felt that working together day in and day out was enough. He'd never wanted to crowd Mac.
"Don't be ridiculous," Bozer gestured to the cup Jack was holding. "You can't even make your own coffee. I'll still be here to perform my culinary skills. You have other talents that I want to exploit-like Mac whispering."
"Mac-whispering?" Jack snorted, almost spilling his coffee. "I'm not sure I've been exactly competent in that area lately."
"Only because you've been gone so much." Bozer obviously hadn't meant it as a dig but it cut just the same. Jack must have let the pain and guilt register on his face because Bozer rushed to add, "Not that you've bailed out on him on purpose. I mean, you were only doing what Matty told you to do. Believe me I get it, Matty is scary…"
"But I'm not afraid of her," Jack quickly interjected. He didn't dare mention once more that he didn't believe their director had much say in his latest absences. Instead he eased himself out of the barstool, careful of his bruised ribs. "Which is why I'm going to be at that meeting this morning." He gestured to the hallway that led to the guest bathroom. "That is if you don't mind if this bum grabs a hot shower on your dime."
"You look like the only thing you need to catch is some Z's, man." Bozer folded his arms over his chest, purposively glancing to the sling laying on the bar between them. Jack easily picked up on the genuine worry flickering in the other man's eyes. "It's not like I don't want you back with us where you belong, but has medical even cleared you for duty?"
"I can sleep on the plane to wherever our team is heading." Jack quickly grabbed the sling with his good hand. There was no reason to bring it up to Matty or especially to Mac. He wasn't going to be separated from his family again, not after weeks of them being apart and Christmas fast approaching. The shoulder wound was nothing more than a deep graze. He gave the sling a little wave before stepping over to one of the drawers and shoving it inside with the first aid kit and extra batteries. "And this…this is going to be our little secret."
"Which means you haven't seen anyone." Bozer stood as well, still regarding Jack with a look of disappointment, arms crossed over his chest.
"Which means I'm not missing out on this briefing." Jack pointed to the oven, flashing a trademark grin. "You're always bragging how your cooking is the cure for what ails a man, Boze. I'll be counting on those magical buns and on some more of your brew to get me through the morning." When Bozer still looked reluctant to join in on Jack's slight duplicity, he played a different card, the one he knew his friend couldn't resist. "Come on, brother. I thought we were Team Mac. Whatever our differences, we promised to have each other's back when it came to our boy."
"You won't be surprised to find out that Mac officially put me on Team Jack before he quit Phoenix and exacted a similar promise about me keeping an eye on you." Bozer's frown deepened and for a moment Jack was afraid he'd lost him. "I haven't forgotten the way you made me look bad by going and getting yourself kidnapped by Jonah. That's already one strike against me."
"Let's not forget Mac got kidnapped by The Ghost on your watch." Jack knew it was a low blow but he was more than a little tired and cranky as well as a bit desperate. "It looks like to me if you have two charges you want to keep up with, you'd want them both on the same mission. There's no telling just what I might get up to if I'm left here to my own devices. Alone. With Oversight."
"I would have Riley for back up,"" Bozer said quickly, holding up his hands.
"That's my boy. Use the resources around you," Jack said with a contemplative nod, all the while grinning on the inside with images of what Riley would do to their teammate if she ever heard him refer to her as 'his' backup. "Leanna will be there, too."
"True, though she's not yet been thoroughly read in on what Riles and me like to call Operation Taming the Twin Terrors."
"That makes us sound like toddlers." Jack was insulted on both his and Mac's behalves, giving Bozer a narrow-eyed stare.
"Says the grown man who just hid the bandage for his booboo and wants me to cover for him with the principal."
"Boze?" Jack sighed, growing tired of the game. It was getting hard to maintain his good 'ol boy act when he was feeling like one giant bruise. His side and hip were hurting and he hoped like hell the hot shower would loosen the sore muscles along his upper back and neck. Hanging from a tree by handcuffs even for a couple of hours could do a number on a guy's trapezius.
Bozer huffed, shaking his head. "Alright. Go take a shower before Mac gets here. You look terrible. I actually washed the clothes you left here last time. They're in your room. If you shave I'll even cover the worst of those bruises you're trying to hide with my airbrush kit."
"Domestic dynamo and a wonder with the make-up wand. How has Leanna resisted asking you to be her roomie for this long?" Jack didn't wait for an answer, the tell-tale narrowing of the gaze enough warning that he was pushing his luck. He patted Bozer on the shoulder as he made his way towards the hallway. Catching the other man's grumbled declaration that he was quickly changing his mind about missing having Jack around, the older agent smiled. It was good to be home. Jack wasn't planning on leaving them again anytime soon if he could help it. Oversight be damned.
RCJ
Mac didn't even care that he'd nearly tripped over Jack's go bag as he quickly made his way through the doorway. From the moment he'd seen the silver-blue Shelby as he jogged up the drive, he'd been hit with a sudden surge of adrenaline, an anticipation that helped fuel his flagging reserves that had made his run less than par. He wiped an arm over his forehead, swiping away the excess sweat as he made it to the kitchen, an easy smile coming as he caught sight of familiar keys tossed on the hallway table.
"Where's Jack?" Mac stopped at the island, startling Bozer who was bent over at the oven pulling out what smelled like cinnamon rolls. Mac's mouth watered, but not from his usual reaction to his roommates cooking. Instead a wave of nausea had him bringing a hand to his stomach where an echo of pain throbbed behind his navel. He hadn't felt well that morning. The Chinese food he'd consumed while doing research the night before had obviously been a bad idea and the hour long jog hadn't improved the situation. He grit his teeth against the stab of pain and tried to breathe through his mouth to quell the churning in his stomach that made bile burn the back of his throat.
"Good morning to you to, sunshine." Bozer set the pan on the counter, turning to face Mac with potholder covered hands propped on his hips, brow raised. Mac recognized Bozer's best irritated housewife imitation. "Now that your other best friend is back in town, I'm chopped liver?"
Mac rolled his eyes at the melodramatics, but did try to tamp down on his enthusiasm, more so because he felt self-conscious about acting all of ten again instead of fearing he'd hurt Bozer's feelings. "When did he get in?" He inquired, cooly.
"Not long after you left for your run." Bozer pulled the potholders from his hands and returned them to the peg above the stove, eyes brushing the clock on the oven. "You're back early."
Mac shrugged, appreciative of the bottle of water Bozer pulled from the refrigerator to offer to him. He took the bottle, pressing it to his forehead for a second as he did another sweep of the house. "Is he out on the deck?" He doubted Jack would go far when there was the promise of food.
"In the shower." Bozer answered, reaching for plates in the cabinet above him. "He says he's coming into the office with us."
Mac took a drink of the cool water, hoping his stomach didn't recoil at the content. "Does Matty know that?"
"I don't think so." Bozer used a spatula to dish up the oversized rolls and began working to cover them with a quick swirl of cream cheese icing. "I got the impression Jack didn't care one way or the other."
"She didn't mention him coming home today." When Mac's stomach remained quiet, he took another longer drink of water. Neither had Deacon Landry called him. The former Delta had been in touch with Mac off and on while Jack was in Brazil. Landry was loyal to Jack for many reasons and the feeling was mutual. Jack had gotten Deacon a job at Phoenix a few years after he and Mac had signed on back when it was still DXS, had pushed for him to be his second in Tac Teams. Mac had felt better knowing that Deacon was on the Brazil mission as well, backing Jack up. He trusted Landry with the job and with keeping him in the loop. Jack wasn't the only one who had Deacon's loyalty.
"He didn't tell me any specifics," Bozer continued, glancing over his shoulder. "But he looked like he'd come straight here after wrapping the mission. Smelled like it, too."
Mac noticed the way his roommate didn't meet Mac's gaze. "He was okay?" Mac asked, knowing Bozer would more than likely skirt around the truth, some of which Mac was already privy to, thanks to Deacon.
"You know Jack." Bozer gave a quick shrug, trying and failing to look nonchalant. "He could go into a bouncy house with a bunch of two-year-olds all bundled up in bubble wrap and still come out with a black eye."
Mac did indeed know exactly how his partner was and despite Bozer brushing Jack's tendency for injury off as some sort of accident proneness Mac understood it to be from a willingness to do whatever the job asked of him. Mac often worried that one day the job would ask too much, and lately he considered that maybe Oversight was counting on such. He didn't get a chance to turn that particular possibility over for long because Jack chose that moment to enter the room dressed in a pair of old sweats and a Metallica t-shirt that had seen better days. He still had a towel partially over his head, rubbing his wet hair and Mac couldn't deny the rush of relief he felt at seeing his partner.
"I'm ready for my make-up, Mr. Seville," Jack announced brightly.
"New fashion trend you picked up while in Brazil?" Mac couldn't help the smug grin when Jack whipped around to look at him surprise registering in his dark eyes before he shot Bozer an accusing frown. Mac gestured to Jack's face. "I'm not sure you can pull off the smoky eye look, partner."
"Hey don't look at me." Bozer muttered, going back to frosting his buns, mumbling something under his breath. "It's not my fault our boy's working on a new PBR."
Mac hadn't been going for a record, which was good considering the abysmal run was nowhere near his personal best, but the failed attempt was worth it to catch Jack off guard.
"Long time no see, brother." Jack recovered, quickly, completely side-stepping Mac's observation, as he moved forward to grab the younger man in a hard hug. Mac didn't even mind the breach of his personal bubble, the physical presence of his best friend too much of a novelty over the last few months to complain. He even held on a bit longer than normal, only pulling back when he felt Jack wince.
"How's the shoulder?" Mac met his gaze with an arch of a brow, leaning against the counter. "I heard you got shot."
"Damn it, Bozer." Jack growled, turning to bare his teeth at Mac's completely innocent roommate. Innocent of ratting Jack out about the bullet wound that was, but apparently willingly complicit in a plan to cover up Jack's other injuries.
Bozer held up his icing covered spatula, looking as surprised as Jack and a bit indignant. "I didn't tell him anything. Maybe he's developed some 'Spidey-senses' of his own."
"No super powers," Mac confessed when Jack swung his gaze back to him, arching a brow. "Deacon called me."
"Damn Landry," Jack sighed, running a hand through his still wet hair.
"I made him promise to keep me informed if anything went sideways." Mac tilted his head, giving Jack a slightly challenging look. "The same kind of request you made of Bozer and Riley no doubt."
"A directive they obviously ignored considering you were kidnapped and I knew absolutely nothing about it until it was all over."
"Talk to Matty," Bozer quickly added. "She's the one who slapped us with the gag order."
"You were a thousand miles away, Jack." Mac couldn't deny he'd been surprised when he'd picked up the phone to call Jack after his rescue and Riley had stopped him with the revelation that no one had informed his partner he'd even been missing. When he did call to break the news himself, he'd tried to make Matty's reasoning sound logical to Jack, who to say the least hadn't taken the news well, but hadn't added his own lingering suspicions that Oversight had made the final decision on whether Jack would be read in on the situation. In retrospect, Mac hoped Matty had also realized that Jack would have been distracted on his own mission, putting himself at risk. It was a scenario Mac often feared when they were working simultaneous separate missions.
"I'm pretty sure that argument could go both ways, brother." Jack frowned. He moved to the counter by Bozer, refilling his favorite Cowboy's coffee mug.
"Or I just have better powers of persuasion than you." Mac offered when his partner rejoined him by the island, hoping to ease the tension. The last thing he wanted was to argue with Jack.
Jack took a drink, rolling his eyes. "Did Deacon at least tell you it was just a graze?"
Mac's mouth twitched, his gaze meeting Jack's. "He said you whined and bitched about it like a baby so knowing your tendency only to be stoic when you're bleeding out or in jeopardy of losing an organ, I figured it wasn't much worse than a paper cut."
Jack grinned, taking another swallow of his coffee. "There was no whining. This." Jack gestured to the bruises on his face, "Hurt worse than the bullet."
"Is that why you were going to let Bozer put you in his make-up chair?" Mac's voice had regained a slightly sharp edge as the heady scent of yeast and coffee reawakened the faint sense of nausea Mac had temporarily subdued with his excitement at finding Jack home, safe and sound. He felt another stab of pain twisting his stomach, his mouth watering.
"How about we eat up while it's warm," Bozer's voice broke in with forced cheer. He brought three heaping plates to the island, pushing one directly in front of Mac, who took one look at the cinnamon roll dripping with melted sugar and barely made it to the garbage can before he was sick.
"Whoa!" Bozer's voice barely penetrated Mac's misery as he emptied what was left of last night's midnight raid into the waste basket. The pain over his navel intensified, robbing him of his breath. "That's not the reaction any chef wants," he heard his roommate mutter.
"What's going on? Mac?"
Jack's worried voice had Mac grimacing, his body betraying him as his stomach seemed bent on turning inside out. He braced his hands on the side of the can, squeezing his eyes shut to ride out the misery. He caught the clean scent of the eucalyptus shampoo Bozer kept in the guest bathroom, then a steady, cool hand rested against his neck.
"Hey, brother. Surely Bozer's cooking ain't that bad."
"Shut up, Jack," Bozer snapped, irritation and worry ringing through. "It was probably your ugly face that did him in."
"Wet this for me." Jack responded to Bozer from behind Mac and Mac was grateful when only a beat passed before a cold, damp towel was draped around his neck. Jack's hand moved to his shoulder, giving a slight reassuring squeeze. "You okay, bud?"
Mac nodded, feeling as if he could actually straighten up, his stomach momentarily done with the surprise acrobatics. When he made it upright, Jack's grip tightened as he wavered slightly, blinking.
"Easy there, slugger." Jack's other hand returned to Mac's neck, forcing the younger man to lift his gaze and giving Jack access to Mac's pulse. Mac could imagine it was erratic as he could feel his heart thundering against his chest. He knew sweat was beaded on his face and felt weary and worn down, despite the much shorter run."You overdo it on the jog just a bit this morning? What have I told you kids about life being a parade route not a sprint."
Mac's mouth twitched, recognizing the tried and true tactic. "It's a marathon, Jack."
"Only for the millennials who think it's a good idea to run twenty-six freaking miles in a morning."
"I didn't even do five," Mac bantered as he let himself be guided to one of the barstools. Jack didn't let him go until Mac was sitting and even then he stood close, watching him studiously as if he might have missed something important.
"Good thing, too, considering you just tossed your cookies and your heart's racing as fast as Treaty and Raucus when they're trying to be the first to the grain bucket after one of our trail rides." Mac could clearly hear the underlying worry in his partner's teasing Texas drawl.
A pain of what he could only describe as homesickness struck with the mention of his horse, of his and Jack's time in Austin. It had been months since they'd returned to LA, to Phoenix. Mac had thought things would get better, especially since he'd made the choice to establish clear boundaries with Oversight. Instead, the normalcy he hoped to return had eluded him, replaced instead with new dynamics. Leanna was a welcomed addition to the team, but it was a change, albeit not as drastic as the one where Jack seemed to be a migrant member, drifting in and out of missions, instead of the constant Mac had come to count on through the years.
"What's going on with you, kid?" Jack asked, eyeing him closely.
"It's nothing," Mac tried, using the end of the towel to wipe at his mouth. He felt Jack's gaze on him, his concern palpable between them, and tried to force a smile. "I might have eaten some questionable left overs last night."
"Tell me it wasn't Bozer's weird days old Thanksgiving Turkey casserole?" Jack's hand went back to Mac's neck, giving a gentle squeeze that offered so much more than a steadying presence. Protection. Safety. For a moment Mac fought the urge just to close his eyes and will away the reality of the last several months, but Jack's voice kept him grounded. "Because if so, I should definitely call 911."
"I heard that, he who usually loves my turkey left over recipes. Remember the turkey nachos you devoured last year?" Bozer grunted, nudging Jack with his elbow as he came to stand in front of Mac, bearing a can of ginger ale. "Here, Mac, this might help."
Mac shook his head. The idea of drinking anything at the moment bringing a fresh wave of misery. He wrapped his arm over his stomach, breathing carefully once more.
"Thanks, Boze." Jack took the can, his forehead furrowing. "Let's hold off on adding anything to the mix."
"Can we just go outside?" Mac glanced longingly to the patio door, a refuge from the kitchen smells still assaulting him.
"I'll clean up in here," Bozer nodded to Jack, Mac not missing the look his two best friends exchanged. They probably thought he was having some kind of delayed stress reaction to what he'd gone through with The Ghost, as if his psyche had waited until Jack arrived before flying all to hell. Admittedly, it wasn't out of the realm of possibility but Mac was still betting on the late night raid of the refrigerator being the culprit. Once they were outside, he took a deep breath of air, even more convinced of his theory when his head cleared and his stomach eased off.
"You sure you're okay?" Jack asked quietly, following Mac's gaze out over the city scape which was just starting to come awake.
"I'm fine. Really." He shot Jack a side glance. Bozer wasn't completely wrong about Jack's face being a trigger, although it had more to do with Oversight's hand in the matter than the fact Jack looked about as beat to hell as he usually did after a mission. There was a price to pay for being the muscle, the proverbial shield for the brain trust, as he'd heard some others at Phoenix describe Jack's role. But Jack was so much more than security detail, than a bodyguard. He was not expendable, replaceable or interchangeable with another soldier of his credentials as some seemed to assume.
"Maybe I should call Matty and tell her you're not exactly up for a mission."
"No." Mac shook his head, realizing that begging off a job would simply leave a door for Jack to once more be sent off on his own. He wasn't ready to be separated so quickly. Time spent with The Ghost had shaken him and all the phone calls and video chats couldn't quite replicate the first steadiness he'd really felt with having Jack back. "I'm good, Jack. Better than I've been in weeks."
"Good isn't usually so green, kiddo, unless you're Kermit the frog." Jack gripped the railing, watching Mac instead of the view.
"I told you it was the Chinese." Mac took another breath, the relief he felt almost convincing him of his own argument. The pain he'd felt before was just a faint echo now. He would not be eating curry for a long time. "I should never have Leanna choose the restaurant. She likes the Magic Dragon."
"What?" Jack gave an exaggerated affronted look. "Does the girl not know this house has its loyalties? Damn. If Zeke from Trey Yuen finds out I'll lose the best Mongolian Beef in town."
"Please don't' talk about…" Mac waved his hand in the air, unwilling to speak the name of his best friend's favorite dish. "You know."
"Sorry, but someone's going to have to have a chat with Bozer's lady."
"She's still figuring things out."
"Yeah, Boze said she hasn't been fully read in on Twin Terrors." Jack gave Mac a long look, rolling his eyes.
"What?"
"That's what our loving teammates call us. Operation Twin Terrors." Jack glanced over his shoulder as if expecting Bozer to be eavesdropping. "I'm sure there's notes about our alleged co-dependence issues and how I hover too much and you refuse medical treatment even when you really need it."
"They forget it was me and you against the Taliban and then the world, long before they came along." Mac couldn't deny some of the points he was sure Riley and Bozer would make about his and Jack's partnership, but he knew they have to admit for all it's oddness, it worked.
Jack bumped his shoulder against Mac's. "It's always going to be me and you against the world, brother."
Mac felt a dark rush of foreboding at his best friend's words, suddenly overcome with the childish need to exact a promise from the other man. Despite not speaking a word of what he viewed his complete and possibly pathetic desperation, his face must have revealed exactly what he was thinking because Jack turned to look at him, offering his closed fist.
"We'll pound on it, if that will make you feel better." Jack lifted one brow, not one hint of condemnation for Mac's foolishness on his part. "You know it's more binding than a pinky swear."
Mac let out the breath he'd been holding with a laugh. "And a hell of a lot more manly."
He knocked his knuckles against Jack's a real smile finding its way onto his face as he easily recalled the first time Jack had started the particular tradition in Afghanistan. They'd been pinned down by enemy fire. Jack was going to have to break cover and try and take out the gunman. He had levelled Mac with his most serious 'I am in charge' glower and made him promise that he'd stay put no matter what happened. Apparently Mac's solemn vow had not been enough because Jack continued to badger him, even as bullets pierced their paltry shelter. Mac had finally thrust out his pinky finger in jest, suggesting they swear on it. Jack had actually laughed, informing Mac that Deltas didn't ever stick out their damn pinkies, not when drinking tea, and sure as hell not when making an oath to one another. He'd offered the kid his fist instead. It had been the first of many such oaths.
"I'm not going anywhere, Angus, at least not anywhere so far away that I won't come back. You have my word."
Mac felt his smile wane at the solemnity of Jack's soft declaration, the sudden serious look on his partner's face adding to the sudden moroseness and the grim sense of foreboding Mac had gleaned earlier. He managed to give Jack a quick nod, hoping it spoke what Mac couldn't before turning back to the city below them. He didn't trust his voice in that moment not to betray exactly how much Jack's pledge meant. Or worse that his gaze might reveal his deepest insecurities and Jack would once more glimpse the truth, which was that despite everything Jack did and said and how desperately Mac wanted and needed to believe him, he still had his doubts.
That had nothing to do with Jack. And everything to do with James MacGyver.
As much as Mac feared that neither he nor Jack could ever diminish the hold Oversight wielded over the past, it terrified him to entertain thoughts that they may be just as impotent to thwart his father's ability to influence both their futures.
To be continued...
