After their late breakfast, they packed up the dishes, not really knowing what to do with them, and walked through the castle, past a Great Hall for feasts and balls, which led out onto a rich garden that seemed to stretch on for at least an acre, containing decorative flowering plants, and a market garden with fruits and vegetables, and what looked to be a healer's garden. That last garden was being tended to by a petite woman who looked to be in her forties, wearing a simple, old-fashioned dress and a floppy straw hat. She also looked quite a bit like Beth, and Mac assumed that she had to be the healer's apothecary mother.

She smiled at them and waved in greeting.

'Hello, I'm Caitlyn. You've all met my daughter.' The apothecary gestured to the dishes they were carrying. 'If you're looking for the kitchen, go back inside and down the left corridor, it's on your right, next to the painting of a flying bowl of fruit.'

Well, a flying bowl of fruit would be distinctive, at least…

They nodded, and Mac spoke.

'Thank you, ma'am.'

Caitlyn shook her head, and when she spoke, there was something stern in her voice.

'Caitlyn, MacGyver.'

You know, I think I know where Beth gets it from.

Bozer, who was washing, handed Riley, who was drying, the last plate. When it was dry, she passed it to Mac, who put it away.

(They'd decided he was the best for putting things away; since he was the tallest, he could reach the high shelves the easiest. Riley could have levitated the dishes into place, but she was reluctant to risk breaking them, since she couldn't always get her magic to do exactly what she wanted it to.)

Mac's best friend towelled off his hands, and looked rather longingly at the stove, at the pantry full of produce, at the huge selection of pots and pans.

He'd never seen such a kitchen, and he really, really wanted to use it.

After all, since they'd had access to the kitchen, surely no-one would mind if he put together some food for whoever wanted any, there was plenty here; the castle was clearly not short of wealth or food. Besides, he planned to make tomato soup, using Mac's grandfather's secret recipe, and cheesy buns.

Nobody could eat his cheesy buns and not fall in love with them.

They were that good.

Especially when accompanied by tomato soup.

Mac smiled fondly at his best friend.

'Do you want help, Boze, or…'

Bozer made a shooing motion, knowing that his best friend's curiosity was itching to be sated.

'Go, explore, don't do anything I wouldn't do, bro!' Mac grinned and headed out of the kitchen, though not before patting his pocket pointedly, where his very high-pitched and very loud whistle sat. Bozer turned to Riley. 'So, Miss Davis, let me show you how I do my magic!' Bozer waggled his eyebrows. 'They do say that the way to the heart is through the stomach…and you'll love my cheesy buns.'

Riley crossed her arms and shot him a look, shifting her weight to one leg.

'I'm going to go get some fresh air.'

And she strode out of the kitchen, leaving Bozer wondering what in the world he was doing wrong.

Step one of trying to court a girl was flirting with her, and that was what he was doing, right?

Mac walked through the castle, without any particular aim (though he found himself with a couple of wishes – it'd be great to stumble across the library, for example), until he came across a little courtyard, clearly designated for doing laundry.

There were several lines for hanging wet clothes across one end, and in the middle, there was a fire-pit with a large cauldron on it. A tub of cold water sat on a platform beside the fire-pit.

The fire-pit was lit and standing beside it was Beth, a large basket of laundry on her hip.

She smiled and waved at him.

'Hello, Mac.' She put a hand over the cauldron of water, judged it was hot enough, and started dropping pieces of laundry in. Mac recognized his, Bozer and Riley's clothes (well, at least his trousers – his shirt was definitely beyond repair). She glanced over at him, smile turning wry. 'There's nothing interesting to see here.'

Yeah, laundry isn't very interesting to do, let alone watch, but…

His eyes fell on the washboard and the sturdy pole for stirring the laundry lying against the castle wall, as Beth put soap and a vial of pleasant, fresh-smelling liquid into the wash.

You know, it'd make her life much easier if those two were combined…

Mac walked over and reached out for the washboard, only to stop in his tracks when Beth spoke.

'Mac…'

There was a note of warning in her tone. He looked up to find her narrowing her eyes at him. He smiled a little sheepishly, holding up his hands.

'I just want to attach your washboard to the laundry stick; it'll make it much easier for you, there's no heavy lifting involved…'

Her expression softened a little, and she walked over and picked up the washboard, and gestured to the laundry stick.

'Where do you want them?'

Her tone brooked absolutely no argument. Mac's smile widened a little.

'Washboard on the floor, if you could hold the pole normal to it…uh…that's ninety degrees to…'

He trailed off as he realized that she definitely knew the not-so-normal meaning of normal (of course she did, she'd read Tesla…), then started pulling out one of his shoelaces.

A few minutes later, Mac pulled out his Engineer's knife, to put the finishing touches on the new laundry-washing aid.

He was usually very, very careful who he used the knife in front of.

(As one of the two signatures of the Order of Engineers, it invited far too much suspicion, possibly even outright hostility.)

However, this time, he didn't really think before using it at all, feeling, somehow, safe and secure.

Still, he froze the moment Beth spoke.

'Mac, do you know that that is?'

She sounded eager, almost excited, though, not wary or hostile in the slightest, and he turned his head to face her, seeing that eagerness reflected on her face.

He couldn't help but answer truthfully.

'An Engineer's knife. My grandfather's.'

Her eyes widened, that eager excitement and curiosity growing stronger.

'Your grandfather was an Engineer?'

Mac lifted a shoulder and shrugged.

'Sort-of? The Order was gone by the time he started his training, but he was taught by a man who'd been part of the Order…'

That man had thought he was the last of the Order, the last survivor, and thus, when he'd passed, Mac's grandfather had been convinced that he was the last of the Engineers.

There was something a little sad in her eyes again, just for a moment, when she shook her head.

'The Order of Engineers isn't gone, Mac. My dad's an Engineer.' She glanced between him, still with the knife in his hand, and the contraption he'd made. 'And I think you really, really need to meet him.'

He finally found his voice again, the shock passing a little, and spoke, just as eager and excited as she was.

'Can I?'

She smiled, easy and broad.

'I think I have to insist you do, or he won't forgive me!' She glanced down at his boots. 'We'll get you a new shoelace, and then I'll take you to his workshop.'

Mac could only marvel at the wonders around him, the bits and bobs and offcuts and the contraptions and devices that some of them had become that dotted the large space adjoining the smithy a little ways from the castle, in a separate building.

It was pretty much his idea of heaven.

A real Engineer's workshop, the likes of which he'd only ever read about.

'Dad? Come meet MacGyver; you have to show him your…'

Beth led him through the slightly-maze-like, cluttered shelves of the workshop, until they reached what seemed to be the centre, voice trailing off when they arrived.

There was a lean man of about Bozer's height sitting on a stool in front of a table, a metal mask on his face with a glass plate over his eyes, which were full of focus, holding a miniature flamethrower in gloved hands and using it to fix two pieces of metal together on something half-built that Mac was quite sure was a flying machine.

He was also wearing the distinctive brown leather coat of the Order of Engineers. Mac's grandfather had had one, which he'd inherited from his mentor, though he couldn't wear it for obvious reasons.

His grandfather had gifted it to him with the knife, but he'd outgrown the coat a couple of years ago anyway, and couldn't wear it in front of the mirror and pretend and wish anymore, like he had when he was younger. It'd been left in what had once been his home back in his and Bozer's old town, and had probably been destroyed.

Mac pushed away that sadness.

There was no use crying over spilt milk, as his grandfather used to say.

Beth's dad turned off his flamethrower, put it down, and lifted his mask, greeting his daughter.

Mac didn't pay much attention, as he was far too entranced by the flying-machine-in-progress, staring at it in wonderment and awe.

After a long moment, he shook himself out of it, realizing that he was being very awkward and also a little rude (it was so awesome, so incredible, he hadn't been able to help himself at all…), only to find that Beth and her father were both smiling at him, something very understanding in their eyes.

It was the Engineer who spoke.

'I'm Michael, MacGyver.' He gestured to his creation, hints of almost-childlike excitement appearing in his eyes. 'I'm told you'd be interested in my flying machine?'

Mac just grinned, nodding as his eyes brightened with excitement and curiosity, making him look even younger.

Michael's own smile widened, softening, and he started explaining his contraption to the pair of bright-eyed teens.

Riley strode through the castle, a tornado of thoughts running through her head.

On one hand, she did like Bozer. He was a good person, loyal and caring and funny, who always sought to look after his friends as best as he could, in any way that he could.

He was a really good friend.

She liked being friends with Bozer.

And if she was honest with herself, he was kind of cute, too.

When he wasn't flirting outrageously (and badly) with her anyway.

On the other hand, well, she couldn't stand the constant flirting, the constant pushing.

She shook her head in frustration and kept walking, seeking out that fresh air she wanted, and found herself in a large courtyard.

The courtyard itself was fairly normal.

What wasn't normal was the fact that there were many objects (mugs, goblets, a few pitchers, a couple of bottles of wine, four candelabras and a clock, even) flying around the courtyard above her head in an intricate pattern, even as fire and water danced around them in even more intricate twists.

Magic.

And such a display of it, too, raw power honed to a sharp, fine point. Strength with finesse.

Riley glanced between the two young, blonde women (they were about nineteen or twenty, she thought, a couple of years older than her), standing on either end of the courtyard, faces focused.

The objects all set themselves gracefully on the ground, the fire and water disappearing, as both women turned to Riley.

The sweet-faced blonde in a dress smiled widely, if shyly, and waved at Riley in greeting, while her slimmer, stunningly-beautiful companion, who was wearing a tunic and trousers, greeted her with a smaller, knowing smile, speaking.

'Hello, Riley. I'm Cage, the Spymaster's apprentice.' She gestured to the other blonde. 'This is Jill, our lady's maid.' Her smile widened ever-so-slightly, growing slightly more knowing as it did so, too. 'We were just training.' She plucked the question that was on the tip of Riley's tongue from her before she could even ask it (the question that she so desperately wanted to ask, yet so didn't want to either, still full of fierce independence, a near-need to do everything for herself, by herself, as she only really had herself – though that wasn't really true anymore, was it?), and answered it, and Riley knew then that Cage had learned how to harness her magic to read hearts and minds, and was a very, very powerful practitioner of that craft. Part of her instantly wanted to ask the older girl to teach her (it would be so, so useful…), the other part didn't want to be able to, and still a third part wondered if she had enough magic in her to learn. Cage looked at her for a moment, gaze evaluative. A pair of cups and a pitcher levitated themselves closer to Riley, and that little, knowing smile reappeared on the Spymaster's apprentice's face. 'Let's start with something more basic.'

Cage watched as Riley used her magic to pour water from a pitcher to a goblet, twenty feet in the air, guided by Jill.

The teenager learned fast, very fast.

And was very, very powerful.

More powerful than she knew, definitely.

Stronger than Jill, and stronger than Cage herself.

Quite possibly as powerful as the Queen, the strongest witch Cage had ever encountered.

This was something she definitely had to discuss with Matty, and the Queen.

Her lips quirked up a little as Riley's control slipped a little, the pitcher over-balancing, tipping water all over the courtyard floor, narrowly missing Riley herself, then spoke as the girl made a frustrated noise.

'Almost. Take a deep breath, Riley, and try again.'

'What are you doing, Bozer?'

Bozer, who'd just set down a tray of cheesy buns on the kitchen counter, jumped about a foot into the air and yelped.

He whirled around to find a very short woman with her hands on her hips standing behind him, brows raised.

Feeling rather like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, even though he was pretty sure he was doing nothing wrong (she was terrifying…and she somehow knew who he was), Bozer put his hands up.

'Uh…making tomato soup and cheesy buns?'

The diminutive woman stared him down as they had an impromptu staring contest.

Bozer blinked first, and she gave a little almost-smirk, then marched around him and grabbed a warm cheesy bun.

She took a bite, chewed, swallowed and beamed up at him.

'These are amazing.' She pointed at him with the cheesy bun in her hand. 'I'm Matty, the Spymaster.' She took another bite of the cheesy bun, chewed and swallowed. 'I like you.'

With that, she grabbed another cheesy bun, and strode out of the kitchen, leaving a rather confused Bozer behind, blinking.

'Uh…thank you?'

Well, everyone did love his cheesy buns.

'…Wait, you met Matty the Hun and she said she likes you?'

Sitting at the very long dinner table, Jack gaped at Bozer.

Dinner at the castle, like all meals, was a reasonably casual affair, apparently. There was a roster that determined whose turn it was to prepare meals or do the dishes after (Bozer had sort-of screwed it up by hijacking the kitchen, though, given what he'd made, Mac really didn't think anyone would be complaining) and everyone showed up at roughly the appointed time and sat wherever. Currently, only Beth and her parents were there with Jack, Mac, Riley and Bozer. Matty and Cage had yet to make an appearance, and Jill had taken a tray up to her mistress, as the lady of the castle, understandably, being the lady of the castle, presumably didn't typically eat with the castle's other inhabitants, of which there weren't very many at all, which made sense, since it was in the middle of the woods and all.

Currently, Mac, Bozer and Riley sat together, recounting their days (Bozer was half in love with the kitchen, Michael had essentially insisted that Mac return to his workshop the next day so he could show him and teach him more – he seemed very glad to have someone to teach some of his craft to; apparently, despite her appreciation for their craft, Beth was no Engineer or Engineer's apprentice – and Riley had organized to train with Cage and Jill on a daily basis). Jack sat near them, his feet up on a spare chair, eagerly digging in to his dinner. Beth, Michael and Caitlyn sat a little way away, the family chatting to themselves, occasionally glancing over at the other four when they were particularly loud.

Bozer just nodded.

'Yeah?'

'She said she liked you straight after meeting you?' Jack sounded absolutely astounded. 'She's never said she likes me, and I've known her for ages! What's your secret, man?'

Bozer smirked and sagely held up the nearest basket of cheesy buns.

'Cheesy buns, Jack. Cheesy buns. Secret Bozer family recipe. One bite and you're guaranteed to fall in love!'

The last sentence was punctuated by him waggling his eyebrows at Riley, who rolled her eyes, but took a second cheesy bun anyway, though pointedly not from the basket that Bozer was holding.

(They were really good.)

Jack, meanwhile, took a bun from the basket in Bozer's hands, and stuffed half of it into his mouth, chewed, and spoke with his mouth full, earning looks of disgust which he ignored.

'Oh, these are really, really good, Bozer!' Jack looked appreciatively at the half of a cheesy bun in his hand. 'Still, Matty the Hun tamers? You sure it was her, man?'

Bozer looked incredulously at him.

Sure, he wasn't as smart as Mac (or Riley, for that matter), but you didn't need to be good at probability to know that there could really only be one very short, very scary Spymaster called Matty in a single mysterious magical castle in the woods.

At that moment, Matty strode into the room, followed by her apprentice. She walked up to them and addressed Bozer.

'Hi, Bozer.' She reached out and grabbed a cheesy bun from the basket in his hands. 'Thanks.' She then turned to Jack. 'Learn to cook, Jack, and then I might just say I like you!'

Jack looked offended.

'I can so cook!'

Matty snorted.

From the looks on Cage, Beth, Michael and Caitlyn's faces, they agreed with her.

Well, Bozer thought, that explained why Jack was never rostered onto cooking duty alone.

AN: Cheesy buns are this AU's version of grilled cheese sandwiches. The Order of Engineers' signature brown leather coat is, of course, Mac's leather jacket! Throughout this story, various 'modern day' things are going to be adapted in some way or another into this AU…including paperclips, so keep your eyes peeled! I've wanted to write something in which Mac meets Beth's parents for ages, so I indulged myself in this fic! Did you guys like my adaptation of Bozer's canon 'performance evaluation' from Matty?