Jack more than kept his promise about helping Mac investigate the possibility of the Mazari operating in LA. Although he wound up having to do it around his work schedule, which was strange at best. Once Patricia realized Mac was more of a long term project if she was interested in hiring him, she pulled back on her lenience with Jack.
In his off time, he still regularly visited Mac and shared any piece of intel he could, meaning anything that wasn't classified (and a few things that were). They went out together to the places Mac was sure he'd seen familiar hostile faces and essentially staked them out. All they got out of that was a bunch of paper clip sculptures and a reestablishment of the easy banter they gotten to depend on in Afghanistan.
It also gave Jack a chance to work on Mac about coming to work with him. He knew the kid wanted to help people, that he hated being bored, and DXS could definitely use an out of the box thinker like Mac. Not to mention that he'd missed working with the kid. But Mac was hesitant to even work part-time. He was focused on fixing up his house, he said, although the projects were often disorganized or went unfinished until Bozer bugged his roomie about it.
That worried Jack a little, but his concern was somewhat assuaged by the fact that Mac had started seeing Sissy on a semi-regular basis. And it hadn't even taken an act of Congress; just Bozer pestering him relentlessly. Jack was also getting Mac to the gym with him three or four times a week, and had even gotten him to start doing some hand to hand sparring which seemed to be doing wonders for the kid's physical confidence. Mac was frequently dressed and ready for the gym trip when Jack came through the door. He was always ravenous afterward too and had dragged Jack to about every taco and burger joint in town and seemed prepared to eat his weight at all of them.
They hadn't made any progress in their Mazari investigation, but Mac seemed happier, much more like his old self. There was always something a little reserved about Mac, something that reminded Jack of a friend of his from when he was a kid (the boy in question had once gotten bitten by a neighborhood dog and while he was always still friendly to dogs after that, when he was around them he'd hang back a little and glance at the scar on his arm frequently), but his partner was back, in every important way Jack could measure. The kid looked a helluva lot better, too.
In the couple of months since Mac had agreed to start working out with Jack, he'd put on probably fifteen pounds. Mac knew Jack and Boze were happy about it. As he felt the eyes of the leggy blonde who'd just come into the gym travel over him, he couldn't say he was anything other than pleased with it, too.
"Hey, genius!" Jack snapped Mac back to reality. "You're supposed to be spotting for me."
"Sorry, Jack." Mac grinned sheepishly, and helped Jack get the weighted bar back on its rack. His head turned and his gaze briefly followed the young woman who gave him a very open, very inviting smile, before she headed into the fitness class room where some sort of very athletic looking martial arts class was getting started.
Jack sat up and toweled off his face. "I keep telling you there's perks to workin' here, kid. And Applied Sciences would love to have you."
Instead of ducking his head and saying he'd think about it like he had almost every other time Jack had brought it up, Mac grinned and tipped his head in the direction of the classroom across the gym. "What department does she work in?"
Jack grinned in return. "That dangerously lovely lady is one of the very best tech nerds around the place. Computer geek extraordinaire apparently." His grin slipped into a smirk at Mac's expression. "Her name's Nancy, or Natalie or somethin'. You'd probably like the Krav Maga class." Jack stood up from the bench. "You wanna go meet her?"
Mac took a step back and almost tripped over his feet. "Um … no way … I mean … no thanks, Jack."
"Why not? She's pretty as hell and she was obviously interested, smile she gave you."
Mac shook his head. "I'm sure she was just being friendly, Jack. She's way out of my league."
Mac just headed toward one of the treadmills to put an end to the conversation, and so maybe Jack would miss how furiously he was blushing.
Jack watched the kid go, shaking his head. Mug like a movie star but without a lick of confidence to go with it. Jack hated that his friend thought so little of himself. But, the fact that Mac expressed interest in a woman, even if he couldn't work up the nerve to talk to her was the most 'this is the old Mac' moment Jack had seen yet. Jack's phone buzzed from the pocket of his shorts. He took it out and looked at it and shook his head.
"Hey, kid," Jack called out, leaving Mac the space he'd taken. Mac glanced over his shoulder. "I'm gonna hit the showers. I've gotta go file a hard copy I forgot to take care of upstairs before I left to come get you today."
"Sure!" Mac called out. "I'm just doing a couple of miles as a cool down anyway."
Mac continued running at what looked to Jack a helluva lot more like a sprint than a cool down.
As Jack exited the gym, Mac yelled across the room, "Wanna go get pizza after you finish up? I'm starving!"
Jack couldn't suppress his pleased expression at both Mac's dinner choice and the fact that the kid's appetite was still going strong. He'd admitted to another bout of pretty nasty nightmares on the way here, so Jack had wondered. "Sure, kid," he replied and headed out.
The rest of the gym was empty, since all the employees seemed to have filtered into the class. Lacking an audience, Mac jacked up the speed on the treadmill and increased the incline. He loved running hills, but he hadn't gone out for his usual run this morning because Jack had offered the gym when he texted him first thing and Mac was making a real effort to be sensible with how far he pushed himself.
He'd just fallen into a good rhythm with a heel strike he was happy with when he became aware of someone else entering the room. Sissy called that level of awareness hyper vigilance and said it was a trauma symptom.
Mac preferred to call it freaking paying attention and thought of it as more of a survival skill. She asked what he thought he needed something like that for now that he wasn't in a war zone. That was bait, and he didn't rise to it, just laughed lightly and said it was good for keeping him from getting hit by trucks when he went running.
Mac caught a faint whiff of perfume and heard the treadmill next to his turn on. He glanced over half hoping the pretty blond who'd smiled at him was as interested as Jack seemed to think she was and was blowing off her class. Instead, beside him was an older woman, very lean and a bit severe looking, with her dark hair pulled back tight and her gym clothes inspection-levels of neat and pressed.
Mac just gave a smile and slight nod, what he thought of as the gym etiquette face and refocused on his run. Just another mile, he promised his legs. The woman spoke as her feet started to churn on the belt next to him. "Evening."
"Hey," he replied, not wanting a conversation to get in the way of his pacing or breathing. He was trying to fully wear himself out so he could hopefully get some sleep later.
"Are you new here?" she asked, and even though she was keeping pace with him speed wise, her voice was perfectly level and conversational.
Mac's first impulse was to pretend he just didn't hear her and finish the last leg of this mile at his preferred pace. Don't be rude, he admonished himself. One of the things he was working on was being more open to social situations. He'd spend months basically alone in that cabin and he had to admit he'd probably eaten so poorly because grocery shopping meant leaving the house and interacting with people.
He glanced at her, but she wasn't looking at him, was just staring straight ahead and running, her form perfect, her breath sure and even. "No, I'm a guest of one of the security guys. Jack Dalton," he finished hoping he wasn't going to have to go dig his guest pass to prove he was allowed to be here out of his bag in the locker room because he really just wanted to finish this run.
"Ah," she said, still not looking at him, so he looked away too, focusing on a point on the wall as a reminder to keep his head up even though he was starting to be legitimately fatigued. "How do you know Dalton?"
Mac suppressed an eye roll. Who the hell came to the gym to chat? Answering felt easier than saying he didn't feel like talking, so he replied simply, "We were in the Army together."
He was hoping that would be the end of the conversation; there'd maybe be the obligatory 'thank you for your service' which always made Mac feel vaguely uncomfortable for some reason and then he could finish his run in peace. But she didn't say anything for a moment. He glanced at the display and realized he was well into another mile. Might as well finish that, he thought, when she spoke again.
"What did you do in the Army?" she asked.
"My job," he said, much more snappishly than he'd meant to. He immediately apologized. "Sorry, I'm not much of a talker, especially not when my legs are on fire."
She glanced at him with a catlike smile. "Some might call that a valuable skill in its own right."
He frowned at her for a split second. "Sure … I guess," he said, and abruptly hit the 'End' button on the machine, and jogged to a stop as the belt slowed and did the same. "Nice chatting with you," he said, not meaning it, and not particularly sounding like he did.
She stopped her machine, too and stepped off it to face him. She was much closer to him than felt conversational. In fact it felt like she was being purposely intimidating for some reason. "You don't mean that at all."
Mac shrugged, glancing away for a second, then forcing himself to meet her gaze. "No. I don't. I don't really do small talk."
The Cheshire Cat expression was back. "I don't either unless I'm evaluating someone. I'm Patricia Thornton."
Mac felt his mouth drop open, just a little. Jack had mentioned his boss, more than once, and it was always with a little something like awe. He recovered quickly though and just stuck out his hand. "MacGyver," he supplied. "Please call me Mac."
She took his hand and gave it a firm shake. "You don't like to go by Angus?" she asked, sounding vaguely amused.
"Would you?" he returned with a sideways smile. Then he realized he hadn't offered his first name. "How do you know my name is Angus?"
She smiled at how quickly he'd gotten there. "Dalton talks about you often, and fondly. He very much wants you to come work here with us. He says a think tank is just a tank without a MacGyver, if I'm quoting accurately."
Mac smiled and shook his head. "Sounds like something Jack would say."
"I'm inclined to agree with him, Mac."
Mac made a face. "What kind of job would someone like me do at a think tank?"
This was the lack of ego Jack had mentioned, and that had been documented by Mac's therapist (whose files Patricia had no difficulty whatsoever laying her hands on). "Unless your service and academic records are exaggerating, just about whatever you like in Applied Sciences. And now that we've met, I may have one or two other areas in which you would be a good fit."
Mac put on his best polite smile. "Thank you very much for the offer, ma'am, but I really don't think I'm looking for a job at the moment. I just moved here and I have some things I'm working out so …"
"Just keep us in mind, Mac," she said pleasantly. "While I certainly believe you could offer our organization something with your unique skills set, there are things we could offer you as well."
She turned and smoothly exited the gym. She hadn't even stayed on the treadmill long enough to break a sweat. Mac realized suddenly that she'd come down here to talk to him. Why would the boss give a damn if some friend of one of her security guys took a part time job essentially fixing equipment in a part of her organization she probably never even visited?
He shrugged to himself and headed for the locker room. Weird. But then Jack was kind of a weird guy and he seemed to really like his job, so it stood to reason the place would be a little funky, too.
He ran into Jack almost immediately upon exiting the locker room. "Hey Jack. All done with your report thing?"
Jack looked a little cagey as he answered, "You bet, bud."
Mac smirked at him. Sometimes Jack could be pretty sneaky, but other times you could tell exactly what he was thinking. "You left so your boss could come in here and talk to me on her own, didn't you?"
Jack practically blushed. "Is I could tell ya but I'd hafta kill ya gonna get me out of this one?"
"Nope," Mac replied, but it was with a little laugh. "It does mean you're buying the damned beer though."
Jack grinned. "I don't mind bein' let off the hook with beer."
"I wasn't finished," Mac said, holding the door for Jack. "After you've had the three beers I know it takes for you to be incapable of bullshitting me, we are going to talk about just what's so great about the job here and exactly why you and even your boss seem so keen on me working here."
Jack grinned. Three beers wasn't even close to his 'no bullshit' threshold. "You got it kid."