Mac hadn't felt especially tired when he'd flopped down on the couch a while ago. He'd mostly wanted to avoid the pool because he figured that, chlorinated or not, pool water was probably not on the list of smart things in which to dunk a hand you'd torn up breaking a billionaire's bathroom. And he wasn't in the mood for anyone to comment on it, even if it was someone who wouldn't freak out on a slightly questionable decision. But he'd dozed off in the sun anyway.
A noise jolted him out of his unexpected nap. Once he processed what it was, he sleepily answered his phone on the third ring.
"Yeah?"
"Hey, Mac."
He pushed himself up to sitting. "Um, hey Dez, what's up?"
"You never called me back about coming by. I was wondering if tonight would be good, and … Honestly? I just wanted to make sure you're okay."
"Yeah, I'm fine. I just—"
Riley stuck her head in the door from the deck. "Hey, Mac, did you move the towels?"
"You just have company," Desi said flatly.
"Dez, I—"
"Don't bother. I knew we were done. I just wasn't ready to admit it. I should probably thank you."
"Desi—" But she was already gone.
Riley stepped inside. "What was that? I couldn't hear you."
Riley stood dripping from the pool where she'd spent the last hour getting out her emotions by swimming laps with Mac-worthy determination and focus.
Mac turned off his ringer and put his phone on the coffee table. He cleared his throat. "I thought there were still some out there. Let me go grab you one."
He headed down the hall. He felt bad. He was glad Desi had heard Riley's voice. He was sure Desi hadn't recognized who the voice belonged to, but was just as sure it was the end of their half hearted efforts to rekindle their romance.
For Desi, he knew she felt like she couldn't trust him. For Mac, he didn't feel he couldn't trust her. He knew it.
He should have been able to count on his girlfriend in the middle of the Codex fiasco. He should have been able to count on the person Jack had sent to watch his back. But that wasn't how things shook out.
The person he could actually count on was the one he'd assumed was off limits since they'd met. She was the one who'd showed up to help him. Even though they'd both been pretty sure they weren't going to make it out of Codex alive.
Riley Davis.
It had always been Riley.
She'd always had his back. He'd always had hers, too. And part of him always wished…
"No. She's your friend. Don't screw that up, too," he mumbled out loud, almost like doing so would solve the confusing feelings he'd been experiencing around Riley lately.
Mac grabbed one of his oversized beach towels, normally reserved for surfing, and hurried back up the hall.
He felt his cheeks color lightly. The only bathing suit Riley had here was one she'd left after a mission where she'd been masquerading as a model. It was a lot less athletic-styled than what she normally wore swimming. Well, it was a lot … less … in general.
"What?" she asked as she took the outstretched towel, then wrinkled her nose. "I know it's a nasty purple. But I thought we agreed we would not hate on the grape when you rescued me from that crappy less-than-genius-bar I was working at when Russ pulled us all back into Phoenix ."
Mac cleared his throat again. "No hating. At all."
What're you doing, Angus?!? he shouted internally, but instead of an indignant response she laughed lightly and blushed a little when she realized his face had been caused by poorly concealed appreciation instead of teasing.
"Thanks." She wrapped up in the towel before either one of them could actually stammer. "I'm gonna go change. Then maybe we can order some food before we dive into the Adventures of John McLane."
"I'll grab some menus," Mac offered quickly, and turned toward the kitchen to cover the deepening color on his face. This was flirting. Maybe kind of awkward. But flirting nonetheless.
"Oh, hey, speaking of grabbing things, you got a call while you were grabbing me a towel," Ri said on her way out of the room.
Mac wondered if Desi had decided to call back for another rehash of the breakup fight they'd had roughly eight hundred times at this point. If she had, he thought maybe he'd just end things more definitively this time. He just didn't have the emotional capital to keep this up. A romantic partner wasn't supposed to feel like work. Not all the time anyway.
Odds were good it was either that, or Matty and Russ had something urgent that was about to screw up their plans for takeout and Nakatomi Plaza.
But it was an unknown number.
Mac frowned at his phone.
There was a voicemail.
He didn't know why that raised the hair on the back of his neck, but it did.
'Don't be ridiculous. It's probably a telemarketer.'
"You sure about that, Genius?"
"Oh, good, Imaginary Jack is back," Mac mumbled.
He hit the button and lifted the phone to his ear.
The message was 40 seconds of vague background noise he couldn't make out. And that was it.
"Huh."
"What's up?" Riley asked as she returned to find him staring at his screen.
Mac shook his head. "Nothing I guess. Just a non-voicemail message."
Riley sat down next to him. "Then why do you look like you've seen a ghost?"
"Just tired, I guess, and I—" He stopped himself. He'd already looked Riley right in the face and lied about how he broke the sink in the jet. Then he'd lied to her about Jack's will and the car. He wasn't going to make this another lie. "Honestly? I feel like a ghost has been following me around since we got back."
Ri put her hand on his shoulder. "I get that. I've found myself having conversations with him in my empty kitchen."
"No…Not Jack."
"I didn't think you meant a real ghost," Riley said, misinterpreting the sudden tension in him as offense.
"I…no…I mean…I've been having conversations with Jack, too. To the point where I feel like I should go apologize in person to Mr. Dalton for all the times I gave Jack crap at his headstone."
Riley smiled. "I went out to the cemetery before you came out and got me today and pretty much did exactly that. And I know there's not a body there, but I said hi in person to Jack's stone, too."
"Did either of them talk back?" Mac asked with a forced laugh. "Because I swear I can't get Jack to shut up any more than I ever could when he was right here."
Riley took his hand and squeezed it. "Well, then, I probably don't have to talk for him, but…" She gave him her best Jack-inspired eyebrow raise. "What's really eatin' ya, kid?"
Mac's other hand strayed up to squeeze at the tension increasing in the back of his neck. "I've been feeling … watched." He sighed and massaged his neck a little more aggressively. "And not by a friendly, if overly talkative, ghost of a Jackass."
"You think this phone call is related?"
He shrugged. "I think I just want life to be what it used to be before everything got complicated."
Riley squeezed his hand again and offered a small smile. "Have our lives ever had that?"
"I guess not. But for all the times I took his head off for calling himself my bodyguard, I'd give anything just to have my Overwatch back!"
He hadn't meant to let so much emotion come into his voice, hadn't felt it until he opened his mouth to speak, but all of a sudden he really wanted to break something again. Or cry. Probably both.
Before it could really take hold of him though he found his arms full of Riley. He knew she was crying because it started soaking through his shirt almost instantly. He hugged her hard, blinking fast to keep his eyes from joining in the spirit of the moment.
"I'm sorry, Ri, I shouldn't have—"
"Shouldn't have what? Let me know what you're really feeling?"came out muffled against his shoulder.
"I'm…I guess more or less, yeah."
"For a genius you can be real dumb sometimes, Mac."
Mac was startled into a chuckle because Riley's voice coincided exactly with Imaginary Jack's. "So I've been told."
She looked up at him then, lips parted slightly, like she wanted to say something, eyes searching his face. Almost before he realized what he was doing, he inclined his head closer. Then, coming to his senses, he stopped, and gave her the sort of hug she would recognize as Mac wanting to offer comfort but being closed off from receiving it himself. His brain had just offered a distraction from his feelings.
He sat back, gently separating himself from Riley. "Wrong numbers don't leave minute long voicemails."
Riley wiped absently at her eyes with the back of her hand, cheeks flushed from the near-kiss of a moment before. "Not usually. That's for sure." She chewed her lip. "You think it's worth analyzing?"
He dragged his hands through his hair. "Could be. Or I could just be paranoid and in desperate need of Die Hard and beer." He sighed. "I don't want to start jumping at shadows because I'm having a hard time, you know? It's not rational."
She put her hand on his arm. "And Irrational Mac might damage some more property," Then she lifted her hand to join the other in making air quotes, "accidentally."
He snorted a laugh. "Can't get anything past you."
A line formed across her forehead. "No, you can't. So don't try." She smiled. "Or I'll stop covering for you."
"Well, then. I'm on the straight and narrow. If you won't cover for me, who will?"
Riley wanted to say something. Maybe something about how she would always have his back. How she would tell him anything and hoped he'd do the same, especially after everything with Codex, where she'd been the only one who had stood by him. But that felt like dangerous territory.
Instead she stood up. "I'll go grab my rig out of the car and we can run that voicemail through my new layering program."
Mac hopped up. "I'll get it!"
He didn't even wait for her response. He just headed outside with the car keys. He needed a breath of air and a task to distract him again.
He unlocked the car and got Riley's bag out of the back seat. And he was relocking the door he stopped and spun around. He would have sworn someone was about to put their hand on his shoulder.
"Maybe I do need some leave time," he mumbled.
He shrugged off the feeling, forced himself to turn back around to finish what he was doing, then headed back inside.
Riley hadn't put her boots back on when she changed out of her swimsuit, and he found her cross legged on the sofa, on the center cushion, right next to where he'd been sitting.
He handed off her bag and stood for an uncertain couple of seconds. If he sat down next to her, she might sense his desire for closeness, and what would either of them even say. But if he didn't sit back down where she knew full well he'd been sitting before he almost kissed her, she'd certainly notice and what would he say if she said something about it?
He dropped onto the cushion next to her, deeming it the least awkward of his limited options.
She got out her rig, plugged in a few things, adjusted a few others, and typed too fast for him to follow for five straight minutes.
He was about to ask how it was coming when she stretched out her hand for his phone.
He didn't bother unlocking it, just handed it over.
She had the voicemail up on speaker as her program peeled it apart.
After about twenty seconds, Mac blurted, "Do you hear that?"
Riley cocked an eyebrow at him. "No."
"You don't hear—"
"This all sounds like a very muffled butt dial to me, Mac." She gave him a hard look. "What do you think you hear?"
Mac swallowed. "It's … almost … almost like music."
Riley shook her head, but glanced back at the screen. "Hang on. We've got something…" She entered a few more keystrokes. "Damn, it can't identify it."
"Well, I suppose it doesn't ma—"
"You didn't let me finish. It can't identify the sound specifically. It does say the likely origin is music though."
"Seriously?"
She grinned at him. "So apparently talking to Jack's ghost hasn't driven you off the deep end."
He gave a slightly nervous chuckle. "But imagining him talking back just might!"
"Nah, kid, you just got ears like a bat so you can hear almost imaginary music and ole Jack from the Great Beyond," Riley teased in her best Jack impression.
Mac's laugh came a little more naturally this time. "That's legitimately terrifying, you know that?"
Riley laughed, too, but there was a slight catch in her answer. "I think the old man would be proud."
Suddenly serious again, Mac forgot any worries about awkwardness or what might happen. He took her hand. "I know he would be, Riley. Of you in general. He really would."
Riley turned toward him fully and met his eyes. "You think so?"
"He never shut up about it, so yeah, I have it on very good authority. Besides, if he wasn't I'd know for sure he was as nuts as he always acted because you're awesome."
Riley leaned a little closer. "I am?"
Mac blushed, the heat not just in his face, but creeping up his neck and ears, too. But he didn't mind. He suddenly felt very bold. He leaned closer to her. "Yeah. You are. I've always thought—"
Mac's ringer blared and they both jumped.
Riley checked it. "Another unknown number."
"Go ahead and answer it. If it's more of the same, maybe your software can get more out of a live call."
Riley hit the button and more muffled butt dial issues from the speakers. It went on for about fifteen seconds this time before a very clear, "EXIT LIGHT! ENTER NIII-II-IIGHT!"
Blasted out of Riley's laptop speakers. Then the call ended abruptly.
They sat staring at each other blankly for a full minute.
"Was that—"
"Metallica. Yeah. Enter Sandman," Mac said, frowning deeply.
"You guys did. spend way too much time together."
"Probably," Mac agreed. "Maybe I should start actually believing in ghosts."
"Or alternatively…" Riley trailed off and started typing.
"Alternatively what?"
"So…when we were digging into Kovacs, I found a contract on Jack. From a couple years ago. Still active."
"Who has it?"
"Guess."
Mac shuddered, but covered it by running a hand through his hair and breathing, "Son of a bitch."
"And then some," Riley agreed.
"Do you think this could be Murdoc messing with me?"
"Could be. Although Enter Sandman seems a little on the nose even for him."
"So, what do you think is going on?"
"You mean other than you suddenly clearly wanting to call Ghostbusters?"
He laughed. He couldn't help it. "Other than that."
"Well…Contract is still live. There was no body to recover. And something has been bothering me about the idea of that chick getting the drop on Jack since the shock wore off."
Mac's face brightened and he jumped up to grab his jacket. "When I went over to Jack's to get his set of keys, they were in the pocket of his favorite jacket! And I know he left them in the bowl on his counter."
Riley packed up her rig, got up, and pulled her boots on. "So, we going over there?"
"Yes we are."
"Great. Gimme the keys!"
Mac shook his head. "See, I might have been fudging the truth a little when I said he left it to you…"
"Gee, I couldn't tell."
"Not one of my better performances?"
"Even worse than when you pretended you fell on the jet."
Mac shook his head. "And you laid rubber to get me to confess?"
She grinned. "Maybe a little. So can I drive or what?"
Mac tossed her the keys on their way out the door.
