The Highest Good

A/N: Well, I hadn't intended to write a chapter two for this tag on, but then Gib threw out a prompt, so kindly pointing out that we had not seen Jack interact with Murdoc, so….this was born. I'm not sure this is what she had intended but I hope it is at least close to what she envisioned.

Thank you all for the kind reviews and I hope this lives up to Gib's expectations! I wanted to get this out before the grand finale tomorrow night and if possible I may have the first chapter of Casting Mountains In The Sea, the prequel to How Wolves Change Rivers for tomorrow as well! Fingers crossed.

RCJ

When people died debriefing took longer. If you were the person who killed those people sometimes explaining every little detail could be tiresome and loathsome and sometimes Jack found himself watching the clock, wishing the guys in the suit would listen the first damn time he explained how he assessed the threat, locked on the target, and eliminated said threat. It wasn't the rocket science Oversight made it out to be.

But for once Jack was grateful to have to go over his story of taking out several members of The Organization's kill squad more times than necessary. It gave him sound reason to stay behind at Phoenix just a little longer than his partner. Convincing Mac he should go on home with Bozer was made easier and cast no suspicion, especially when Jack handed over his credit card to pay for the steaks and beer Bozer had promised to pick up. Jack had been burned too many times by the wily chef. Bozer liked to buy the high dollar ingredients when Jack was paying so Jack had only agreed to foot the bill if Mac went along for the shopping trip. Jack had promised to be there before the grill was hot. It was a promise he intended to keep just as soon as he had administered a little debriefing of his own.

Jack might not have been a fan of Oversight, and the lovely Matty Weber might have had him by the proverbial balls since she'd blown in as Director, but Jack had been at Phoenix long enough to make friends. Hell, some of the guys Jack had even helped recruit. There were a couple of soldiers he'd served with, an agent from his days at Langley. He'd saved their lives, covered their asses, sometimes more than once. They were dedicated to Phoenix, to the mission. Jack wouldn't have had it any other way, but they were loyal to Jack. A man was smart to surround himself with friends, to stack the deck. It sure as hell paid off when a guy needed a favor of the unusual, and highly out of protocol sorts.

"Well, well, well." Murdoc grinned his Cheshire cat smile as Jack entered the interrogation room. "Now this I did not seem coming."

"Yeah, well, I live to surprise people." Jack closed the door, crossing the room to where Murdoc sat directly in the center. He'd asked that the table be removed. Murdoc was in a hard back chair, his hands cuffed behind his back, anchored to the link in the floor behind him. Jack had asked that his shoes be removed, his feet shackled as well. He took the only other chair in the room, spun it as he pulled it close to Murdoc, before straddling it and having a seat. "Mystery is my middle name."

"And here I thought it was Wyatt." Murdoc smiled. "Like the cowboys your dear departed Pa loved so much. Please accept my condolences. I do hope he went out with his boots on. I imagine after being a war hero, having your body ravaged by some itty bitty cancer cells can be a bit emasculating."

"You really don't think your emotional chess game is going to work with me do you?" Jack crossed his arms on the back of his chair, forced a disappointed look to grace his face. "I figured a guy as smart as you would understand I'd require a different strategy all together."

"Well, as I said, you caught me off guard. I didn't' expect to see you, at least not when we weren't engaged in heated battle." Murdoc gave a good jerk to his arms, wiggled his bare feet. "Although the cloak and dagger extraction methods and unusual intimidation factors should have given it away. It's all very Delta. Should I expect some water boarding next? Cattle prod possibly? I have to say the prospects are quite titillating compared to the boring encounters I've had so far with, shall we say, the more cerebral side of your team, while I've been a guest here at your facility."

"Actually, I just came to talk." Jack wanted to bash Murdoc's face in, but this mission as unusual as it was didn't require his fists.

"Come now, that's not really your strong suit is it? Not your thang." Murdoc laughed. "You're merely the muscle. Little Angus's bodyguard. That's why I haven't seen you in all these months and why you're here against direct orders I imagine. I have a feeling even MacGyver wouldn't be pleased. Did he release you from your leash, or are you AWOL?"

"I'm here to tell you a story." Jack clenched his jaw, the new jabs hitting a little closer to home than he wanted to admit. Mac would not be happy Jack was here. Matty had ordered him to stand down. But it was the jabs at Jack's intellect, his purpose on the team that drew first blood. Murdoc was scary good. "I hear you like stories."

"That depends on how gripping they are." Murdoc shrugged. "I'm not sure you can hold my attention as well as you do MacGyver's. After all, he has an emotional claim in your pony show. I do not. How is our boy by the way? I take it he's holding it together after our latest run-in since you didn't bring a weapon."

"Trust me when I say you have a stake in this story." Jack smiled, not about to dish details of the job that Murdoc had already had far too much input in for Jack's liking. He also wasn't going to talk about his partner with the sonofabitch. The hungry look in his eyes was enough to make Jack want to keep more than concrete walls and electronic locks between Mac and the sick freak. "And if I ever come to kill you, you won't see me."

"Ha!" Murdoc looked around the room. "I might be unsure of your intentions if I didn't know we were being monitored."

"One of the things I love about being a spy is all the cool gadgets I get." Jack took the jamming device from his pocket and set it on the floor between them. "No one is seeing or hearing any of this. All signals from this room are temporarily shut off. Footage from surveillance of this empty room as well as you lounging in your accommodations is being streamed on a continuous loop. As far as anyone knows I'm off to enjoy a celebratory dinner with my team and you're locked safely in your cell."

"My, my, Jackie. You've gone to a lot of trouble to have this private chat with me. I'm not sure whether to be flattered or frightened."

"I'd go with the ladder if I were you," Jack grinned.

"You are a breath of fresh air. I feel like I can be straight with you, one killer to another." Murdoc shifted ever so slightly, the muscles in his arms giving away that he'd clenched his fists, though his face remained completely at ease. "I've read you file from Langley, even the classified one from Joint Forces. I know how smart you are. While not in the genius category, like our boy, you're quite intelligent, much more so than you let on. It's sad that your team takes that for granted."

Jack rolled his eyes at Murdoc's digging. "Damn if you're not a dog with a bone, dude."

"I'm just saying that not any idiot can fly a Blackhawk or rebuild the engine of a 65 Mustang. It takes more than good aim and a steady hand to make killing look like an art form, something of beauty. I know that better than anyone. It deserves some respect. We're a lot alike, you and me. If I were into the whole 'team' thing, I'd consider you an asset."

"I know what I am. I've kept track of the men I've killed. Just like I know who and what you are. I'm guessing our score sheets are similar, hell, mine's probably longer than yours, although your bank account's a whole lot fatter. No grand revelations here." Jack had already prepared himself for the ways that Murdoc might try to slither under his skin. So far it was about what he expected. Jack's father was fond of saying that the truth couldn't hurt you, if you faced it head on. It was when you turned your back to it, refusing to see, that it could sneak up on you. "You pointing out our similarities isn't going to shake my tree."

"It rattled your partner." Murdoc's smile changed, lips peeled back like a dog showing his teeth, a challenge for dominance. Jack figured he realized a shift in tactics was called for. Murdoc was going for the jugular. "I worked a number on little Angus. Shook him up by showing him just how close what he does is to what I do when he thought he was doing something righteous and morally superior. You should have seen his face when I pointed out the flaw in his thinking. Then, you probably did. MacGyver didn't have your little jamming device. I'm guessing that's why you're really here. You couldn't stand the thought of failing your mission to protect him. Again. I messed with him, right under your nose, just like before."

"MacGyver is fine. Any misunderstandings are cleared up." Jack leaned closer, taking great care to school his features. "I made sure to set those straight."

"I bet you did! That's what you do, isn't it?" Murdoc leaned forward, moving as far as his bound arms would allow. It was only when Jack caught the spark in the dark gaze that he realized Murdoc had been fishing, and Jack had took the bait. Hook. Line. And Sinker. "You're more than his bodyguard. You keep him together when all that tightly wound packaging starts to fray. I should have seen it before. Bozer's the good buddy, all Home Sweet Home and Hallmark memories, but you, Jack Dalton, you are something else entirely. You balance him out. The Yin to his Yang."

Jack tried to backpedal, realizing his misstep a second too late. "MacGyver doesn't need any help to do what he does. Least of all from a block head like me."

"Now, now." The sudden light in Murdoc's dark gaze brightened, warning Jack he was once more anteing up. "As brilliant as our Angus is, he's a little gullible, a bit too earnest and trusting. Bozer only feeds into that, propelling that sense of apple pie in the sky. You on the other hand, bring some reality. Grounding. I'm still going to kill Bozer, mostly because he's nauseatingly decent, but maybe I'll take you out as well just to see MacGyver lose that tight-fisted grip he has on sanity."

"MacGyver isn't dependent on me for anything, least of all his mental faculties." Jack could feel the muscles start to bunch along his shoulders. He itched to move, to stop the ball that he'd somehow started rolling. Now he was reacting instead of being proactive. "I work with the guy. It's my job to make sure he accomplishes his mission."

"It makes sense that it started in the war. A bond forged in the heat of battle is so different than one which budded in the bubble of innocent childhood. It's incredibly powerful, stronger than blood. Or so I hear." Murdoc tilted his head, continuing to watch Jack. "It must have been hard for you to witness poor Angus's disillusionment over there in the big boy's sandbox when he realized he couldn't fix everything. It gives me chills just imagining the crushing disappointment reflecting in those beguiling blue eyes."

"Shut up." Jack could feel his temper rising, proof that Murdoc was accomplishing just what Jack swore he'd not let him do. For a second he doubted his decision to have his own meeting with the killer. He was on a slippery slope and Jack had to be careful he didn't slip and break Murdoc's neck.

"Don't get me wrong. I understand your motivation. I've felt it too." Murdoc's face took on a look of empathetic understanding that increased Jack's desire to bust him in the mouth. "We creatures of darkness are naturally drawn to the light. We can't help it. Moths to a flame. Only you want to bask in that lovely glow if even for a little while, as if it might somehow rub off on you, make your bleak world brighter, dissipate all that blackness on the inside. I ,on the other hand, desire to snuff the light out."

"You're right." Jack suddenly knew with brilliant clarity what he needed to do to reclaim his ground. Murdoc hoped to point out Jack's weaknesses, so he'd give the man what he wanted. It wasn't like Murdoc didn't already know the truth, wrapping it around Jack's neck like the knot Mac had described using on Joshua Khan, the one Jack had shown him how to make in Iraq. The more your prisoner struggled and fought, the tighter the noose would become until it strangled him. "Mac's innocence, his goodness is what I love about him most. And he is too damn trusting. I recognized his vulnerability the first time I met him in Afghanistan.

"Like a wolf can sense the susceptible animal in a herd he's casing," Murdoc shifted, clearly unsettled by this sudden turn, but still hoping to insight Jack's anger. "My pupils dilate just thinking about it."

"Mac wasn't helpless. He was already a damn good EOD, a trained soldier, but he was still a stupid nineteen year old kid thinking he could save the whole damn world." Jack looked down at the cuff on his wrist, letting the memory of that first day in Afghanistan wash over him. "It hurt to look at him and right then and there I knew what I had to do. He needed someone to watch out for him. I was the man for the job."

The look of shock on Murdoc's face was more genuine than the one he had feigned when Jack had first entered the interrogation room. If Jack had been the big bad guard dog Murdoc compared him to, then he'd just done the unthinkable by rolling over to expose his underside. It was an act of submission.

"You see ever since I was a kid I've been one to save things. Birds with broken wings, rabbits caught in a snare. Then there was Damascus, the finest horse a teenage boy had ever laid eyes on. He'd been beaten by his former owner. Neglected and betrayed by the people who were supposed to take care of him. Instead of offering shelter, they inflicted pain."

"You must have empathized greatly considering the mother you had," Murdoc commented, casually, revealing he'd read Jack's psych profile as well as his personnel file. It was a last ditch effort at control. Jack wasn't going to let him have it.

"Damascus wouldn't let me touch him. For weeks he'd shy away. Even apples and sugar cubes were useless. It killed me. But I'm a stubborn bastard. It wasn't long before I had a bridle and saddle on that magnificent animal and we were riding the back forty of my granddaddy's ranch like we'd always been together. So you can imagine my own bit of disillusionment when it came to Bullet."

"Bullet?" Jack understood Murdoc couldn't help himself now. He was already caught, mesmerized like a deer in harsh headlights.

"Named after "Bullet" Bob Hayes. One of the finest players to ever grace the Dallas Cowboy's roster. It's his story I wanted to tell you all along, Bullet's, my dog, not Bob Hayes's, although if you haven't read how he won an Olympic Gold medal and a Super Bowl ring in the same year, you really should, especially seeing as how you have so much time on your hands these days."

"I take it Bullet was also in need of a savior?" Murdoc sighed. "Is he, like Damascus, another poorly concealed metaphor for MacGyver?"

"No, Bullet's more a parable about you." Jack slid his chair a little closer. "See, I found that ugly pup in an alley, emaciated, missing half an ear. He took a liking to me, or at least to the hotdog I slipped him. He followed me home, and contrary to what my Nana thought, I hadn't used a bread trail to encourage him. He wasn't the prettiest of dogs, but he was whip smart. Part hound, part who the hell knows. I cleaned him best I could, fattened him right up with all the table scraps a dog could dream about. Wasn't long before he was trailing me around the ranch, sleeping on our front porch. We both liked long naps in the sun and fishing at the pond."

"Sounds like a match made in Heaven. Two loathsome curs of questionable breeding and homely countenance." Murdoc's tone was biting now, quicker and nastier than the slow deliberate vernacular he usually doled out. It gave Jack a wolfish grin.

"You see things were going good right up until the chickens started disappearing. Then a couple of the barn cats went missing. I swore to my granddaddy that it was a fox, maybe the coyotes we'd had trouble with the summer before. He wasn't so sure. In fact, he made me stake out the hay loft for two nights straight so I might lay eyes on the real culprit."

"Bullet?" Murdoc raised a brow.

"My grandfather already knew the truth. He'd found those chickens and the cats in the woods where old Bullet had dragged them off after killing them." Jack nodded. "A coyote or a fox wouldn't have left anything behind, because they kill for food, they steal to stay alive. Bullet took lives for sport. He enjoyed the kill."

"Maybe he was just misunderstood." Murdoc's confident smirk was back in full force. "Perhaps he too had a mother who was a real bitch?"

"Nah," Jack shook his head, ignoring the pun wrapped in a well-placed barb. He rubbed his hands on his jeans. "It was like my grandfather said. Bullet was messed up. Maybe he was born wrong, or blood lust was in his nature. Either way, as much as I hated it, I had to put him out of his misery before he hurt anyone else."

"Who would have thought that Jack Dalton's illustrious killing career started on a quaint horse ranch in Texas?" Murdoc shook his head. "Fascinating, but I'm getting bored."

"The thing is, I won't be so sad when I do the same thing for you." Jack leaned forward then, folding his arms on the back of the chair so he could rest his chin on his fists. He made sure to look straight at the assassin, imagining the beat of his heart, the thrum of his pulse, as sure as he would have if he had indeed been looking through a scope. He kept his breathing slow and even, the air becoming charged with silence just like it did before a kill. Jack wondered if his fellow sniper felt it as well. He'd wager he did. "I'm going to be the one to send a bullet into your apricot. Mark my word, you, sick, sick sonofabitch. I'm going to put you down like I did that poor dog. I. Will. Be. The. End. To. Your. Story."

"It's just as well. Men like us always go out bloody." Murdoc seemed nonplussed as Jack leaned back in his seat. "I'll consider it fitting to go at the hands of a contemporary. You may not be so fortunate. I'm sure you'll die from a bullet as well, though maybe not one placed in your T-zone by a sniper of our caliber. I'm willing to bet it will be in the line of duty, probably some grand sacrifice to keep little Angus's light shining bright."

"If I die saving Mac, then my life will have been well spent." Jack couldn't help but to think back about the conversation he and his partner shared on the ride in. He'd mostly been trying to erase any thoughts of Murdoc form the kid's mind, but he'd also meant what he said. Mac was Jack's highest good.

"What's funny is you think he's going to compartmentalize your death, like he did mommy's premature passing and daddy's betrayal? Your leaving will be a different but very detrimental abandonment." Murdoc's smile was cold, his dark eyes like flint. He wasn't as shaken as Jack hoped, more resolved than the agent would have liked. "Maybe you're not as smart as I thought."

"I never claimed to be smart." Jack stood, looking down at Murdoc. He flipped the chair back around. "I said I was stubborn and determined, maybe even more dogged than you. I don't quit. Won't quit until you're finished."

"We'll see." Murdoc smiled. "Perhaps when I'm not chained to the floor and I have shoes."

"I'll make sure you go out with your boots on." Jack nodded, starting for the door. He'd count this one as a win considering he hadn't even put his hands on Murdoc.

"Just one more question." Something in the tone told Jack to just keep going, to open the door and get the hell out of there as fast as he could. Murdoc continued just as Jack made it to the exit. "What happened to Damascus?"

Jack's blood went cold. He gripped the door handle, paralyzed by the wave of grief Murdoc's seemingly innocuous inquiry brought. Jack's one saving grace was that Murdoc couldn't see his face.

"I'm willing to guess that he didn't fare well after you went off to the Army. I mean you'd taken all that time to gentle him, get him to let you past all those nasty walls he'd built up for his own protection. He let you get close, come to count on you when you showed him life could be different, that you could be trusted. I bet you even promised you'd never leave. And then." Murdoc made a clicking sound with his mouth. "You were gone. And that magnificent creature, MacGyver…I mean Damascus, was worse off than before you rescued him."

Jack opened the door and exited as calmly as he had walked in, Murdoc's laughter following in his wake. As soon as he was past the first door, he leg his weak legs carrying him through the secondary entrance, leaning against the reinforced steel door as soon as it was sealed. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing his heart to slow, his breath to even out.

"Did you have a nice visit?"

Jack nearly jumped out of skin at Mac's unexpected voice. His partner was propped against the wall beside him when Jack opened his eyes. "You nearly gave me a heart attack! What the hell are you doing here?"

"I think that should be my question." Mac pushed away from the wall, folding his arms over his chest. "What happened to debriefing, then heading to my place?"

"I had debriefing and I'm headed to your place right now." Jack made to take a step only to have MacGyver block his way.

"You just had to do it, didn't you?" Mac dropped his hands, letting his gaze roam Jack's length. "I guess I should be grateful you're not covered in blood, although you do look like you've seen a ghost."

"I'm fine." Jack started around the younger man, not exactly in the mood for a confrontation with his partner, not with the fresh memory of Damascus and Murdoc's comparison on his mind. "Murdoc's still breathing if that's what you're worried about."

"I don't give a damn about Murdoc." Mac caught Jack's arm before he could pass. "I never did. That's not why I didn't want you in on the interrogation."

"No?" Jack pulled away. "Then maybe you and Matty thought I wouldn't be able to follow along with the conversation. That you couldn't dumb down the words to what did you call it a while back, 'Jack' speak?"

"Don't be ridiculous." Mac gave him the same look he'd given him in the car, the one that spoke to Jack being a big baby, maybe just a bit of an ass.

"At least you didn't tell me not to be stupid." Jack shook his head, starting off again. Screw the steaks. He'd get some more tacos and his own damn beer on the way to his place.

"Jack." Mac's voice brought him up short, but he kept his back to his partner. "The truth is I didn't want you around Murdoc because you were the one piece of the puzzle he hadn't quite worked. I was trying to protect you. He knows what Bozer means to me. He understand Riley and Matty are part of the team and for me that makes them family. But even after reading our files, I don't think he quite understood how we fit."

"Because we don't make a lot of sense on paper." Damn it. The kid was right. Jack turned to face Mac, feeling foolish. "Logically, our partnership shouldn't' work."

"Exactly." Mac shrugged. "I liked that Murdoc didn't know how you fit into my life."

"He may have figured it out." Jack pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes, giving a growl of frustration. Twenty/twenty hindsight wasn't worth a damn thing. "You could have told me all this before I went in there and made an ass of myself."

"And here I figured you went in there to tell him to stay the hell away from me." Mac's mouth twitched. "Big brother to the rescue."

"Whatever." Jack dropped his hands to his sides.

"But sometimes you do make the biggest ass out of yourself trying to play that role. Remember in Iraq when Hammond had you thrown in the stockade for punching an officer."

"You think I need a time out?" Jack rolled his eyes.

"I think you need to be more careful of violating orders around here. Oversight aside, Matty is scarier than Hammond, and she's not as soft-hearted. She'd as soon bury you under a jail as to put you in it. She might even use this as further proof that our team needs rearranging. Then where would I be?"

"I'm not afraid of Matty." Jack propped his hands on his hips. "The woman loves me and no one is splitting up our team. You're stuck with me."

"I'm serious." Mac reflexively put a bit more space between them as he leaned against the wall once more. Jack couldn't help but to think of Damascus, their old familiar dance of a few skittish steps back for every few Jack would manage forward. Damn Murdoc. "Not only did you jeopardize yourself, you put Columbus in a hell of a position."

"Landry tipped you off." Jack should have known. He might have had men that were loyal to him, but he sometimes forgot those same men had ties to Mac. The kind of bonds that ran deep, just like Murdoc pointed out, because they'd fought and bled together. "Bastard."

"When he lost coms and video feed, he was afraid you might get a little carried away. He didn't want to explain to Oversight how Murdoc ended up beaten and bloody after being alone in his cell all night." Mac glanced back to the door which led to the interrogation room holding Murdoc. "After all Landry's witnessed you in all your big brother, bull in the china shop glory."

"I didn't go in there to get revenge on Murdoc for messing with you, alright. Although I'd be lying if I said I thought about changing my plan about ten seconds into our conversation."

"Then why did you go in there, man?" Mac shifted, running both his hands through his hair. "What exactly was your brilliant plan here?"

"If you must know I went in there to tell the asshole a story." Jack let out a weary sigh. "It might have backfired, and I sure as hell didn't mean to give him any further ammunition against you, but I did what I felt I had to do. Just like you when you played your recent role of assassin. I was doing my job. As your partner. And yes, as a brother. I thought we covered the whole concept of my Sundown Brouhaha earlier."

Mac stared at Jack for a long moment, a stormy mix of emotion roiling in his blue eyes. Jack worried his partner might just turn and bolt, like the cagey colt he'd once been, but much to his relief Mac actually took a faltering step closer. "I hope it was at least a good story, better than the whole peanut allergy lie he fed me."

"Oh, it was titillating, and true." Jack hoped the change in topic was the white flag he desperately wanted it to be. He lifted a hand, rubbing at the knotted muscles along the back of his neck. After the scares he'd suffered both when he lost contact with Mac in the elevator and when he'd saw those blips closing in on Mac's location on the screen in the War Room with Jack helplessly miles away, the last thing Jack wanted was to argue with Mac, especially after Murdoc's attempt at foreshadowing the ending of their tale. "It even had a twist no one saw coming."

Mac arched a brow, as he stepped alongside Jack. "Not even you?"

"Especially not me." Jack glanced at the kid. "I may have underestimated Murdoc just a bit."

"Did he kill off your main character?"

"Worse." Jack winced. "He unmasked him as the freakin' villain."

"That sounds just like Murdoc." Mac nodded, giving Jack a look of understanding he probably didn't deserve. "Don't feel too bad. He has a dastardly touch with narrative."

"That he does." Jack rubbed at his eyes, glancing to his watch.

"That's why every story is better with two protagonists." Mac's statement had him looking at his partner again. He watched as the younger agent waved a finger between them, giving a half smile. "Just like ours. Even the bravest, most cunning heroes need someone to watch their backs."

"You ain't wrong about that, brother." Jack gave a grin of his own, not able to imagine a MacGyver story where he wasn't a central character. "So where does that leave us?"

"Well, we could always go duke it out in the sparring ring where my skills would make you feel worse than you already do, but Bozer is still getting those steaks and beer..." Mac shrugged a shoulder. "It's up to you, pal, but Bozer left thirty minutes ago and I need a lift home for which you need to be conscious."

Jack lifted his fist, shook it at his partner who was now smirking. "I think your bigger concern, bud, is how you might eat your steak after I bust you in the mouth."

"Since I'm starved, and I know how guilty you'd feel if you somehow slipped and hurt me, how about we skip the gym and just head home." Mac turned and started down the hallway.

"Explain to me how you're the one who is starved when you ate all your tacos and two of mine." Jack followed, breaking into a little jog to catch up. He put all thoughts of accidentally hurting his best friend out of his mind. "And while you're at it, please tell me you did not let Bozer take my credit card without supervision. We'll be eating my last week's pay check, Dude."

"I gave him cash. My cash." Mac pulled Jack's card from his pocket, offering it to the older agent when Jack made it to his side. "We assassins do make the big bucks, after all."

"How about we drop the assassin talk for the night." Jack slid his card in his back pocket and tossed an arm over Mac's shoulder. "In fact, let's forget work altogether."

"What ever will we talk about?" Mac flashed him a wary look. "Do not say method acting. I mean it."

"Actually," Jack said thoughtfully. "I was thinking we could discuss more Philosophy. Find out what Boze believes is his Sultry Bottom."

"Summun Bonum," Mac groaned. "It's Summum Bonum, Jack."

"That's what I said." Jack growled, pulling Mac into a slight headlock before letting him go with a playful shove. Dinner and some beer with the boys might not be the highest of aspirations, especially considering the kind of darkness that roamed the world, the kind of darkness a man could carry inside, but basking in some light, if only for a moment, sure as hell would do Jack Dalton a whole lot of good. "Sudden Bogey."

"No." Mac shook his head.

"Sundry Boredom." Jack laughed. He could go on all night.

"No, Jack. Just no."

The End…I think

Thanks again to Gib. Who put a twist in the story the author didn't even see coming!