AN: There was a problem the upload of the previous chapter on this site (thanks to Temporary Illusion for pointing that out to me!), which I couldn't fix (it was something wrong with the site, I think…), so you might have missed that chapter…

That evening, just before dinner, while Bozer helped Cage and Jack cook and Riley kept practicing her magic with Jill, Mac sat in an armchair by the window in the library, reading a very old and very precious engineering text by a highly-esteemed Engineer named Archimedes, who'd been one of the founders of the Order of Engineers.

Beth was sitting in the armchair opposite his, reading a book on astronomy for the sixth time. She was reading out-loud at that moment; the two of them had quickly built up a habit of reading titbits that they found particularly interesting to the other if they were both in the library at the same time, which happened reasonably often.

I like books.

Beth likes books.

This is where the vast majority of the books in this castle are kept.

Of course we both wind up here frequently, and thus, we are frequently here at the same time.

It's a highly-probable coincidence. Statistically inevitable.

When Beth finished reading the fascinating passage (it really was fascinating; he made a mental note to read that book after her…assuming, of course, that what he was about to say didn't change everything for the worse – he didn't think it would, all the people of the castle he'd met seemed to genuinely care for him and Riley and Bozer in their own way, he doubted they'd throw them in the dungeon, but there was definitely the matter of what the lady of the castle thought, and while she'd said they could stay as long as they liked, according to Jack, none of them had ever met her, and besides…how could one know when dealing with something that involved mysterious and powerful magic?), Mac took a deep breath and spoke.

'Beth, how old are you exactly?'

She looked up instantly from her book, that same sadness that he'd heard in her voice that very first night in the infirmary on her face, now tinged with something a little scared, fearful and worried.

(As if she was scared that he'd react badly, might lash out and yell at her, or simply turn and run and leave, he thought.)

Unlike that night in the infirmary, though, he now thought he might understand why that was the case; he had a suspicion, a strong one, that explained it all.

'Sixteen and 364 days.'

'You'll be seventeen tomorrow?'

She nodded, swallowing and looking away from him, out the window at the setting sun, that sadness and fear and worry growing clearer, stronger.

'If tomorrow ever comes.'

Mac took another deep breath, closing his book.

'How long have you been sixteen and 364 days?'

She was silent for a moment, then closed her book and looked back at him, hands toying with the fabric of her dress's skirt.

'200 years.'

I was right.

I hoped I wasn't, but I was.

It was a very, very powerful curse.

Essentially impossible, after all, didn't mean actually impossible.

They didn't age. The seasons changed, but they didn't change with it. They could get sick, could be injured, though no-one had ever died, though they couldn't say if that was luck and providence, or Beth and Caitlyn's skill, or part of the curse, and they did not wish to find out.

They were trapped within the boundaries of the castle grounds, couldn't take one step out into the woods beyond, though they had the means to see out into the outside world, through magic.

(That, Mac, Bozer and Riley thought, must be horrifically painful for their new friends– the decay of the Order of Engineers, the persecution of those who had magic, the disarray that the Kingdom had fallen into, full of squabbling lords with petty disagreements with very non-petty consequences…that would have been terrible for them to have to witness, helpless, powerless to do anything.)

All consumables renewed themselves by magic in the night, so they never ran out of anything they'd had the moment the curse was set. Food, paper, fabric, ink, metal and so on were constantly supplied. The plants in the garden might wilt with the seasons, but they'd never died, not even the annuals, which were simply reborn every year.

They'd tried to break it, of course, and were still trying. Cage and Matty devoted much time to it, and the lady of the castle, who was a very, very powerful witch, did too, but to no avail.

As Beth finished explaining the last of the terms of their curse, Mac, Bozer and Riley exchanged a glance, a single question on their minds, on the tips of their tongues.

It was Mac who expressed it.

'But why?'

Why were they cursed? Curses didn't set themselves, and such a powerful one must have had a powerful motivation behind it…

Jack shifted a little in his seat, and looked up at Mac, Bozer and Riley after taking a sip from his mug, as everyone else exchanged looks and glances.

'That ain't our story to tell.'

'It's mine.'

An unfamiliar voice sounded out from the top of the stairs that led into the dining room, which were shrouded in shadow.

The lanterns flickered on, and then a tall, slender, dark-haired woman aged in her early forties, wearing an elegant and very finely made gown, became visible, and she made her way down the stairs.

Jack looked surprised for just a moment, before he quickly recovered and gestured to the woman, as if he was presenting her before the Court.

'Queen Patricia of the Kingdom of Phoenix, the last of the Thornton line, and lady of this castle.'

Rather awkwardly, Mac, Riley and Bozer all got up and bowed, not really knowing how to properly greet a Queen, let alone in this context. As they straightened up, Mac glanced at the other two teens, then tried to say something sensible and polite.

'Uh…thank you for your kind and generous hospitality, your highness…'

Her expression was very, very hard to read, because there was almost nothing on her face, she was simply cool, calm and collected, but there might have been something that resembled a hint of a smile there.

'My lady will do fine, MacGyver, Bozer, Riley. We don't set much store by formality here.'

As if to illustrate her point, she gestured to the others around the dining table, none of whom had stood and bowed or curtseyed to her on her entrance.

Well, Jack does call her Patty, and she hasn't had him beheaded for his insolence yet, so…

The Queen was silent for a moment, something inscrutable passing across her face, before she spoke again.

'200 years ago, I had a suitor who was a very powerful wizard. The only man I've ever encountered with magic stronger than my own.' Her voice was even, calm, matter-of-fact. 'I refused him, and he took it very poorly. He cursed me.' There was no emotion in her voice at that, not that Mac could hear. 'And he gave the people of my castle five minutes to make a choice: to leave the castle forever and not speak of the events, lest they suffer his wrath, or to stay and share in my curse.'

There was a note of something that Mac was sure was sadness and guilt in her eyes, in her voice, at that.

She stood there for a long moment, holding the gaze of the three teenagers, then glanced around the table, that sadness and guilt growing stronger, Mac was sure, and then, she turned and swept away, back up the stairs, without another word.

Jack looked like he wanted to follow her for a moment, before settling back into his seat and downing the rest of the beer in his mug.

Mac, Bozer and Riley exchanged another glance, then looked variously at the others around the table, an unspoken question in their eyes, one that they really wanted to ask, but were struggling to find the right way, the right words to ask, wondering if this was the right time, if there would ever be a right time or a right way.

Jack gave a very small, rather fond smile at that, then his expression grew more serious again as he spoke.

'I swore to serve my Queen, to protect her, her home and its inhabitants. I couldn't leave.'

(There was more loyalty in his voice, on his face, than one would expect solely from his words. More loyalty than one would expect from the Captain of the Queen's Guard.)

Matty nodded, making eye contact with the three teenagers.

'I made the same vows.'

Cage, sitting on the other side of her mentor, used her magic to fill Jack's mug with water, speaking as she did so.

'And so did I.'

(They were harder to read than Jack, substantially so, but Mac swore that there was more to it than simple vows of fealty for the Spymaster and her apprentice too.)

A tray of food started assembling itself, as Jill spoke up.

'Matty saved my life during the wizard's attack, so…'

She trailed off, waving a hand, and the tray of food flew up the stairs, the way the Queen had gone.

Michael reached out and took his wife's hand, the two of them exchanging a glance, before he spoke for both of them.

'We grew up in the castle with the Queen.'

Caitlyn continued.

'We played together as children.'

Mac, Bozer and Riley's eyes turned to Beth next. She was looking down at the table, hands toying with her fork, but she looked up at them when she spoke, answering the unspoken question in their eyes.

'Mom and Dad tried to convince me to leave, but…' She gave a little smile, tinged with sadness. 'I couldn't leave my family.'

The way she said it, the look she had in her eyes when she spoke, told Mac that when she said family, she wasn't just referring to her parents.

Maybe 200 years ago, that was what family had meant to her.

Now, she seemed to be referring to all of the castle's inhabitants.

You don't need to share blood to be family.

I've known that since Bozer punched Donnie Sandoz in the nose for me when I was nine.

If I was trapped in a cursed castle for 200 years…well, I think everyone else in the castle would become my family, even if it initially seemed that I had nothing in common with them.

Besides, it isn't as if they had nothing in common.

They all made the same choice…and I think their reasons have more in common than you might think.

'Now that you know…do you want to stay?'

Mac studied Beth's face for a moment when she spoke. She sounded much like he had, in the library earlier, when he'd asked her exactly how old she was, a little hesitant, as if wondering what he was about to say would destroy that happiness, that contentment, they'd all somehow built, and he suspected that her current expression mirrored his from then.

Jack continued, voice nonchalant in a way that Mac was sure was deliberate and not truly felt.

'Not that we're kicking you out or holding your prisoner or anything like that; it's your choice. We've had visitors stay for days, we've had them stay for years, and everything in between.'

Mac, Bozer and Riley didn't even need to exchange a glance, all knowing the others' answers already.

We have nowhere else to go.

And we don't want to be anywhere else, honestly.

And…well, we can't just abandon our friends just because they're under a curse.

It was Riley who spoke first, voice nonchalant in the same way that Jack's had been.

'This is the only place in the kingdom where I can learn to wield my magic properly.' She crossed her arms and leaned back casually in her chair. 'Of course I'm staying.'

Mac glanced over at the Taylor family, then looked around the table, a little smile on his face.

'I gave my word I'd serve an apprenticeship. I keep my promises.'

Bozer shrugged, a grin on his face.

'Hey, we're on the cooking roster, and I couldn't deprive you all of my cheesy buns…' His expression grew more serious. 'And where my bro and Riley go, I go.' He paused for a moment, contemplating his word choice. 'Or where they stay, I stay.' He made a face. 'That doesn't have the same ring to it.'

As Bozer had intended, as he did so often, that lightened the moment, smiles and snorts of laughter and head-shakes with varying degrees of exasperation and fondness appearing around the table.

'You're lifting your shoulder too high, Bozer...Mac, watch that follow-through…Riley, loosen up your grip a touch…'

Jack paced in front of the three teenagers, who were drilling with their selected weaponry in front of wooden posts in the training yard, building up that muscle memory, those instincts that Jack knew from experience could and would save your life in a fight.

'Alright, good work! Take five!'

'…Dad, Mac, you missed lunch again!' Beth, carrying a tray holding several sandwiches, two mugs and a jug of water, as well as two apples, walked through her father's workshop. 'You know that skipping meals is bad for your health!'

She rounded the corner, and found a slightly sheepish-looking Engineer and a more sheepish-looking Engineer's apprentice, both with greasy hands. Mac had another long streak of grease on his cheek, and they had both clearly been deep in the innards of the flying machine.

Beth shook her head with a fond, slightly amused smile, put down the tray and pointed in the direction of the washbasin, raising her brows expectantly.

A series of pitchers, goblets and candelabras danced around Riley in a circle, twenty feet in the air. The goblets were filled by the pitchers, and then, after some more complicated dancing around, the candelabras suddenly lit themselves. There was more movement in a complex pattern, and then, the candelabras went out, the goblets refilled the pitchers, and all of the objects floated gently to the ground.

Mac, Bozer and Jack, who were standing on the edge of the courtyard, having run into each other in the castle grounds and walked back up to the castle together, clapped, all grinning.

'That was awesome, Riley!'

'Woohoo!'

'That's my girl!'

Riley rolled her eyes in response to Bozer's comment, and one of the pitchers flew up again, and dumped its entire ice-cold contents over him.

Bozer, cold and soaking wet, spluttered, then his grin reappeared.

'She really likes me…'

Over the top of his head, Mac and Jack exchanged a glance.

I am terrible with girls.

I'll be the first to admit that.

But I'm pretty sure that tipping a pitcher of ice-cold water on you is not a way that a girl expresses that she really likes you…

Riley concentrated and held out a hand, and the cookbooks on the very top shelf that Bozer wanted to read (he was currently fetching the library ladder) floated down onto the table, just as Bozer returned, holding the ladder.

He grinned in thanks, which made Riley smile, and then, started muttering under his breath about inspiration for a love sonnet (he'd finished reading a whole book of love poems a couple of days ago), which she ignored as she perched back on the edge of the table, burying her head back into her book.

Sitting on the other end of the large table, their heads bent over an extremely large encyclopaedia, Mac and Beth continued fervently discussing reproducing the mechanics of a human hand in metal, completely oblivious to everything but the conversation, the encyclopaedia and each other.

'You're getting real handy with that real fast, brother.'

As Mac put away his quarterstaff, sliding the extendable parts back inside the centre piece, after an evening training with Jack (Bozer was on dinner duty, while Riley was practicing magic), the Knight gestured to Mac with a hand.

The blonde smiled.

'Thanks, Jack.' He shrugged. 'My dad was really good with his quarterstaff; maybe it's inheritable.'

Jack finished putting away the last of the training dummies, then glanced back over at Mac, a little smile on his face, as if he was reminiscing about his own dad.

'Did you used to watch him practice with it?'

Mac's smile softened a little, recalling a few precious memories.

'Yeah, sometimes.'

Jack studied his face for a moment, then spoke, voice as gentle as he could be.

'What happened to him, son?'

Mac took a deep breath, looking away from Jack, then back at him.

'I don't know.' He shrugged helplessly. 'One day, when I was ten, he just…left.'

Jack reached out and slung an arm around his shoulders.

'I'm sorry, son.'

Mac gave a small smile, putting his own arm around the older man's shoulders.

'Thanks, Jack.' He sighed, a somewhat bitter, somewhat resigned, somewhat helpless sound that tugged at Jack's heartstrings. 'He probably went and started a new family in another town.'

Jack did not like that sound, and squeezed Mac's shoulders.

'Well, he was real handy with a staff; got any other fun facts about your dad you wanna share? Or your mom? Or your grandfather?'

Mac's smile reappeared, soft and reminiscent, as he lost himself in memories again, better, happier memories this time.

'Well, my mom made the best apple pie. She had a secret recipe that she didn't even share with my grandfather, her dad…'

AN: I kinda promised you guys drama, didn't I? Well, surprise…surprisingly little drama? And Mac and Jack are growing closer…which, come on, we all have to love, right?

In other news – I don't know why, but I find myself oddly possessed by the notion of writing MacGyver versions of fairytales? Yesterday, I finished writing Give Your Heart a Chance, a MacGyver take on Cinderella. It's quite different from this story, but I'm hoping that you'll like it anyway…

Here's the summary:

Angus MacGyver. Genius. Billionaire. Philanthropist. Definitely not a playboy. After one too many heartbreaks, Mac's heart is so guarded that his friends fear he'll never find the right one. Throw in a couple of coincidences, some meddling, a hard-working, brilliant, beautiful young doctor and you have a modern-day fairytale.

I'm now going to start editing it and breaking it down into chapters, it's substantially shorter than this story (about half the length), and I think I'll post it after this is done. I might move this story to updates every second day depending on how fast the editing gets done, I'm not happy with some sections yet, so they might wind up being re-written…