A Vacation Without Improvisation
Author's note: A fellow Tumbler recently make a comment after the conclusion of Season 4, that Mac and Riley were long overdue for a vacation. This story is my agreement with this wise individuals' assessment. At first, I struggled with location, where would Mac and Riley would actually desire to travel. However, I was inspired by Lucas Till's recent road trek across the United States and thought for those who had also followed the journey in pictures this might be a fun incorporation of fiction and reality. Let me know if you are enjoying it!
Chpt 1 – Brain Drain
Mac tugs aggressively at the Winchester knot of his slim back tie, not bothering to fully unravel the fabric before slipping it over his head. It gets tossed quietly on the back of his couch. He expertly flips his fingers at the top button that been uncomfortably squeezing his neck in the shirt collar. And he sheds the blazer from his form fitting suit as well. It is like he is trying to, with each article of clothing, remove something more hampering than slices of material. Overall, the freeing and eliminating of clothing does little to aid in his overall state, which is undeniably exhaustion.
He sluggishly allows himself to collapse into the plushness of the couch, tilting his head upward to stare expressionlessly at the popcorn print ceiling.
They, the entire team, had just returned from DC. He had executed two consecutive days of addressing the powerfully suited with the research and merits of his mother's work. Striving to educate the influential about the dying planet and the necessity to take immediate action.
Now, his brain had a numbness which he had never experienced in his life. Not that he can ever feel his mind working but he truly questioned what was happening in his head as he felt void of most of its sensation. It was similar to being encased in mud or quicksand, cold and constricting. With each movement against it pressure increasing and range of motion decreasing. Continuing to fight against the weight causing limbs and torso fatigue, and stinging or tingling as blood flow is restricted. When the uncomfortable prickling ceases there is nothing, not even the registration that arms, legs, body are still attached or functioning.
Staring at the unarranged formations of spackle above him he knows that this numbness is really a state of mental exhaustion. He almost laughs as his internal voice automatically begins to Macsplain "brain drain" to himself, just as he would with his co-workers when improvising on a mission.
The human brain technically an organ, not a muscle. Although not a muscle, its cells do use energy to function. Glucose being the primary source of energy. It gets converted to the organic chemical ademosine triphosphate (ATP). The idea is when the brain works hard, it uses up all the glucose leaving the individual feeling depleted, the lower glucouse levels raise ATP, which blocks dopamine, the feel good keeping you motivated chemical. The rate at which glucose is utilize is entirely based upon the task. Automated tasks, like the regular route to work everyday take less energy, but dealing with an ongoing supply of new information, putting energy into every decision over using the executive functioning and causing mental exhaustion.
He acknowledges that his executive function has been streaming at a near bursting capacity for months. Ever since Codex had come on the scene. He has been processing new information, making new decisions and strategizing in new ways to out-maneuver their destructive efforts. He knows that simply intaking more glucose, essentially snacks and coffee, won't directly or entirely re-charge his brain. What he really needs is a break from all higher thinking. He reasons this to be improbable and almost laughable given his line of work. His Macsplaning gets interjected by a comforting voice.
"Hey" he hears Riley's voice bounce around the room. He hadn't even registered her arrival home.
"Hey" he replies still staring upwards.
"You were really amazing the past couple days. I'm going to channel my inner Jack and say, I'm really proud of you, Hoss" she adds with a lightened sincerity.
That comment seems to give just enough juice to lower his chin and meet her eyes. They exchange a familiar smile, like a thousand times shared before, which tosses back and forth mutual adoration and respect.
"You hungry? I can order us some Thai?" she offers.
"Not hungry but appreciate the offer. I promised Des to meet for drinks in an hour" he supplied. He considers that this was probably unwise given his level of mental tiredness but it needed to be done. After Codex, bombs dropped, guns pointed, trust questionable, he and Des were in this weird state of limbo, not really together but also not entirely broken up. It merited discussion and with any luck, clarity.
Riley seemed to look away from him uncomfortably at the mention of Desi's name. He was confused as to what that was about but lacked the energy to dissect its origins.
He resurrects himself from the couch. A quick shower and change of clothes of necessity. Before moving past Riley he places his hand on her slim shoulder, trails it down the length of her arm to her hand and gives her palm a quick squeeze. "Thanks Riles," he says with shy smile. She deserves infinitely more from him than that singular syllable word, he needs brain power to uncover the correct time and language to communicate it.
XXX
Riley sits crossed legged on her bed. Her laptop humming before her eyes over her recent search, single bedroom apartments. She groans outwardly at the futility of her search. Repulsive or costly seemed to be the only two categories of results generated by this particular search engine.
But Mac's rendezvous with Desi this evening had recapped the unrelenting need to remove herself from his residence before… "before I do something really stupid" she says aloud to her vacant room. She smirks to herself at the usage of Mac's words. But she that which she is referring too is well above the level of Macgyver improvisation stupidity. Professing her newly realized feelings about Mac, to Mac, would be epically dumb in a life which was already full previously poor and consequential choices. Yet, the frequency in which this confession almost spontaneously dropped from her lips had become alarming. Like in the minutes witnessing Mac fight to save the planet with his words and intellect, she had to fight to remain sqarelly in her seat, so all of DC didn't hear "I love you" between the issues of carbon pollution and manmade erosion. Mac had always impressed and amazed her, every mission, every improvisation, but this was surprisingly more. His presentation and faithfulness towards his family's work was somehow the most noble act she had ever witnessed. In doing so Mac had innocently managed to increase his area of occupancy that had been carved out specifically for him in her heart.
In addition, her newly realized feelings for Mac had other unfortunate effects. Recently, witnessing him easily rattle off complex scientific jargon was sexy as hell, causing a flash-over of heat and desire in her mind and body. Listening to at length for two solid days had been sweet torture. Also, in the instances that he innocently touches her, she now had the sense that she may spontaneously combust. Even his casual gesture earlier, exiting the living-room, had long-lasting effects. She continues to rub aggressively at the area between her shoulder and finger-tips. His hands had barely skimmed this area but the heated sensation remained similar to hotness in the formation of a good tan.
As she scrolls through yet another page of horrible excuses for apartments, she overhears the opening and closing of the front door. She braces herself, muscles in her stomach and back constricting to eavesdrop unintentionally on voices or footsteps indicating Mac and Desi have arrived home together. Or worse, steadying herself for that yucky sensation she gets when she overhears or becomes aware of them being affectionate with one another. Gratefully all she hears are Mac's footsteps moving about the kitchen. Dropping her laptop from her lap, she ventures out of her room.
Mac is located standing next to the fridge downing a beer with surprising fortitude. Not his usual methodology for alcohol consumption. Once it is gone, in quick order she notes, he drops the empty on the island, quickly turning to snag his second from the fridge.
Riley feels her eye brown cock upward, "Planning on getting plastered tonight?" she asks.
He issues a grunt, placing the second long neck to his lips. She idles over, grabbing her own from the fridge, mimicking his behavior. It of course has him pause in his own efforts.
"You weren't planning on drinking alone were you?" she offers her playful voice.
He chuckles softly. She truly loves the authenticity of that sound and is pleased she can still illicit it from him.
"Is Desi joining us?" she quires trying to keep her tone as light a possible, instead of dripping with dread.
"Unlikely" he says quietly, "at least not for the foreseeable future." He pauses then continues "Drinks with her were a disaster, the only heard and agreed upon part of the conversation is that we both are in need of a clear break in our relationship."
"You broke up?" she says in astonishment, "Again?" As soon as that last part slips out she immediately regrets it, witnessing a flash of woundedness spark across his features. "I'm sorry" she adds quickly voice full of remorse.
"It's okay Riles, its not like its untrue. Guess I should have learned from the first round huh?
She hated hearing the self-reprimand and defeat in his voice.
"Mac, there was no harm in trying again with Desi. I know that how you hate feeling like you failed at anything, especially relationships. And you always seek to give others a second chance. It's one of the many parts of you I admire. I'm sorry that it didn't work out the way you had hoped." She is sorry, because she recognizes it is another hurt for Mac, another loss, that he has to wade through among the all the rest.
He issues a hearty groan, "Work is going to be a real treat for the next while."
He was right, it would take extra effort on his part now continue working professionally along side Desi. It had not been easy after the previous breakup. Could he manage it right now? He looks truly worn by Riley's assessment. Physically yes, she is aware of the added dark circles under his eyes and added crows feet at the their corners and between his brows. But she reasoned that his brain had been working steadily for months, at a level even off the charts for a brain wizard like Mac. No need to add to the list of items he needs to contemplate.
"Hey, do you actually want to keep talk about this?" she quires.
"Not in the least" he responds.
"Perfect, we will return to your previous approach" she offers, "copious amounts of alcohol, plus that Thai food I had suggested earlier?"
"Riles, you are amazing, thank you"
"Whoa, Let's be clear, it's not like I'm a gonna cook you the Thai myself" she scoffs brushing away his compliment.
He locks his eyes to hers in seriousness, and quietly "The thank you was for your ability to continuously know what I need, even when I am clueless to it myself. It appears that is a requirement in my life at present."
"Always Mac" she answers. She sighs, as the intimacy of these moments just chips away at the exterior walls she had erected around her heart.
XXX
Riley had slept very little through the night, being engulfed in a full worry wrath about how to assist Mac. He was really done by her estimation. He required rejuvenation. Her own method would be a seaweed wrap, facial and pedicure in the local spa but the idea of Mac at a spa was ridiculous. He would likely start informing the staff and guests about the likelihood and rate of bacterial transmission in such a setting rather than using it as an opportunity to rest. A genius idea had arrived near 2 am, as she focused in on his words about her 'ability to continuously know what he needs". He was absolutely correct; she knew the exact medicine to prescribe. Convincing Mac maybe a feat, but certainty and determination coursed in her body like an electrical current, he would be able to do little to interrupt its flow.
"Good morning Sleephead!" Riley boasters a few hours later having let herself into Mac's bedroom.
It's now around 6 am. She pleasures slightly that she gets to wake him with that particular phrase, given it has been used by him upon her repeatedly. She can see his grimace as she approaches his bed, and he jokingly shields his face in the crook of his arms. She sits herself on the bed hear his torso, playfully swatting the arm from his face. When it is removed and she can fully see his face she feels a sharp intake of her breath. Sleepy Mac really is one of her favorite visions. His face calm from physical rest, but he sports a silly smile that births butterflies in her stomach. His are eyes deep blue tilde pools and shimmering, while his hair spiked in all directions like it had been dancing all night with his pillow. She itches to card her fingers tips in those blonde locks, so instead grips at her knees with her finger-nails.
"Your up abnormally early," he comments with surprise in his words "what's up?"
"Start packing," she says a firmness in her voice that she knows he has difficulty arguing with. "We are going on vacation."