Twenty-Four Hours Earlier
Los Angeles

MacGyver strolled into Mathilda's office. She sat behind a desk that would look small if he were behind it. But with her sitting there, it looked huge. She was reading something on a tablet.

"Hey," he said.

She looked up with no expression.

"You wanted to see me?"

"Oh. Yeah. Uhm… Never mind." She looked back at the tablet.

"Matty, it was my first day off in months, so I mind. What did you need?"

"It's not important. I apologize for wasting your time. Enjoy your days off."

He wasn't convinced. "It sounded important from the text you sent."

"No." She glanced at him. "It was nothing. Forget about it."

MacGyver sighed because he knew that glance all too well. She was embarrassed, something he rarely ever saw in her. So, he walked to one of the chairs in front of the desk and sat down, staring at her.

"Mac, I said—"

"Oh. I heard you. But you're lying, and it is important, and whatever it is, you're too embarrassed to talk to me about it. So, I'm sitting right here until you spit it out."

She sat the tablet down slowly but still didn't look at him. There was a long, awkward silence between them, but he was true to his word. MacGyver stared at her, waiting for her to tell him what this embarrassing thing was she needed him so urgently for.

"I am a really private person," Mathilda said.

He nodded. He knew that about her.

"I don't go out; I don't meet a lot of people."

Another nod from him.

She let out a sigh. "As part of the Phoenix's cover, the board is involved in several charities, and..."

"Matty, I know all this. What do you need me to do?"

She hesitated. Speedily she said, "Be my plus one to an awards banquet."

"You've known Jack forever. Why aren't you asking him?" MacGyver asked her.

"Jack?" she scoffed. "I mean, yeah, he can pull it off on a mission, but do you really think he's capable of behaving himself at a high-class event with an open bar?"

MacGyver laughed, shaking his head. "No. That's a good point. But you think I can behave myself around an open bar?"

"You don't even drink on missions beyond a sip for a cover, and I have never seen you get drunk outside of work – yes."

His smile began growing.

"And you want a young man to accompany you to this soiree?"

Her look leveled into an incredulous look. "No. I just didn't want to go to it alone."

"Oh. Okay." He smiled a little more.

She slowly sighed, her lips pressed together. "Will you do this or not, Mac?"

He looked out the window, saying, "I mean, it is my first day off, and I only have two days off, so, I don't know, Matty. I mean…"

"You can have off until Wednesday. Do we have a deal?"

He smiled at her, stretched, and then replied, "Deal. Where do I need to be, and at what time?"

"I'll be picking you up at five pm. You may want to pack an overnight bag."

"Where is this at?"

"San Francisco."

He nodded. "Alright. See you at five. And what is it I will be attending tonight?"

The embarrassment returned. "I'm accepting the award on behalf of Phoenix. And you cannot tell anyone about this. No one. Ever."

He leaned forward. "You're acting really uncomfortable about this. What's going on? It's just an award, nice clothes, and maybe some small talk. You have faced much worse. You've had guns shoved in your face."

She growled, "I know what to say when a gun is shoved in my face. I have no idea what to say for this."

Realizing the truth of her uneasiness made MacGyver smile again, even nod a little.

Mathilda snapped, "Why are you smiling like that?"

"You have stage fright."

"I do not!"

"Yeah. You do."

She glared at him, which only made him grin more.

"I will be at your house at five pm. Sharp! You will wear a black suit and tie. Do not make me wait on you."

He nodded but didn't lose his goading grin.

"Now, get out of my office. Now!"

He stood and sauntered to the door.

"And I do not have stage fright!"

He turned, walking backward toward the door. "Oh yeah, you do."

She threw a pen at him. He batted it away, then turned and walked out.

When he was out of sight, Mathilda muttered, "I don't have stage fright."

She glowered at the tablet for another hour as she read through the report before admitting he may be slightly correct.