I was resting on the couch, my head tipped back and my eyes closed. The house was silent except for the sound of Jack's snoring.
I knew that there were things that I needed to do but I couldn't be bothered getting up off the couch to do them right then.
Just at that moment there was a buzzing sound from beside me, and I hurriedly reached for my phone before the noise woke anyone up.
"Give me a moment, Matty," I said as I answered the phone.
I held the phone to my ear as I walked out of the room and onto the deck, sliding the door shut behind me.
"How can I help?" I asked her.
"It's about your leave request," Matty said through the phone. "I can't approve it."
I felt anger bubbling up inside me, and I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
"Why is that, Director?" I asked.
"I can't have four members of the Phoenix Foundation out at once," she said. "It's bad enough that our entire Alpha team is out on sick leave. But to have a member of biomedical out as well, that's a no."
"Too bad, Matty," I told her. "I'm not leaving them."
"Them? Is the whole team at Mac's?" she asked me.
"Yes. I wasn't going to let any of them suffer on their own," I said.
"They aren't children, they can look after themselves," Matty snapped. "Besides, you don't have enough spare rooms."
I hummed. "Technically, we don't. But as you are also aware, Director Webber, Bozer has gone home for a week. And he and Jack have no issue with Jack staying in his room."
"You have an answer for everything, don't you?" Matty said, and I could imagine her shaking her head.
"Matty, I work in bioresearch and medical," I reminded her. "I know how to disinfect and do virus control."
"I can't leave them on their own," I sighed. "Even if it was just Mac, I wouldn't be able to leave. He's liable to destroy the house with some fever dream invention."
On the other end of the phone Matty was quiet. I could hear the shuffling of some paper and then the sound of typing.
"I can give you three to five days of carer's leave," she told me. "Oversight can't deny that."
"Thank you, Matty."
"Don't get sick yourself," she told me.
She was quiet for a moment and then she spoke again.
"How are they?"
"Sleeping currently," I told her. "But miserable before that. Mac said his throat felt like swallowing glass, Jack was complaining of a headache and a scratchy throat and Riley could not stop sneezing. Were they exposed to anything on their last mission?"
"Nothing more than the common cold," Matty confirmed. "Do you need anything?"
"Umm…"
I walked back inside and opened the fridge, and then the freezer.
"Powerade or Gatorade, jelly crystals and …. I should make chicken soup."
"Send me a list," Matty told me. "I'll drop it by later."
"Thank you," I told her. "For all of it."
Mac roused in the late afternoon, walking into the kitchen and sitting at one of the bar stools.
"You still look like hell," I told him.
"I feel it," he croaked, swallowing and grimacing.
I pushed the bottle of antiseptic anaesthetic spray towards him, and he gratefully picked it up and took a spray.
"What are you making?" he asked softly, gesturing at the stovetop.
"Soup," I replied. "My mum's recipe. With pasta."
"Pasta in soup?" Another voice complained.
"You sound as bad as Mac," I told Jack. "And yes, pasta in soup. Don't knock it 'til you've tried it."
"You want?" Mac asked, holding the spray out.
Jack nodded, not wanted to speak and aggravate his throat further.
"Riley?" he asked as he handed the spray back.
"Still asleep, or at least resting in the spare room," I told him. "I'll get her for dinner if she hasn't emerged by then."
"I don't know about you, hoss, but I ain't up for much at the moment," Jack said.
"Go sit on the couch and comfort watch Die Hard or something," I instructed them.
"You have Die Hard?" Jack asked, eyebrows raised.
"All of them," I replied. "Mac knows its like a security blanket for you."
I winked at Jack.
"But if you're not feeling Bruce Willis, there's also the complete James Bond Collection there and some Mythbusters."
"What are we waiting for?" Jack turned towards the couch.
" I'm fine here," Mac replied. "Happy to just sit for a moment."
"You just want to watch me, don't you?" I replied, smirking at the blond.
He tipped his head with a small smile, a non verbal 'maybe'.
"Jack, go put something on," I said in amusement. "I'm nearly finished up here and then we'll both join you, Matty's instructions on staying away from you all be damned."
In the end, after a small but heated discussion, Mythbusters ended up playing on the television. Riley came in part way through an episode, sat gracelessly on the armchair and then started throwing paper planes at Jack. She also aimed them at Mac any time he started to explain how they could have done something better.
Gradually the smell of the soup started taking over the house and beside me, Mac's stomach grumbled.
"It should be ready in half an hour or so," I said, getting up. "I just need to put the pasta in and let it cook."
"Need any help?" Riley asked.
I shook my head at her.
"Rest. I've got this."
Regardless of what I said, Mac did get up to follow me.
"I love you but seriously, rest," I said to him.
"I didn't think we had the stuff for chicken soup, or this much Powerade in the fridge," he said, taking a red one from the fridge door.
"We didn't."
I gave the soup a stir so that the pasta didn't stick together.
"Matty dropped it around. Along with some paper work I need to finish."
I put the lid on and turned back around to face him.
"Paperwork from home was the condition of your leave?" Mac asked.
The spray must have been doing some good, because he wasn't wincing quite so badly when he talked.
"Originally she wasn't going to approve my leave at all," I told him. "Though I don't think it was really her choice. But she said that Oversight can't deny a request for carer's leave so."
I shrugged.
"You have a few days off," Mac finished.
"Three to five, depending on how quickly you all get better," I agreed.
"Let's hope for the earlier," Mac frowned. "Though both of us home all day is nice."
"It'd be better if you could breathe through your nose," I replied with a laugh.
I brought the pot of soup and all four bowls to the kitchen table. Serving it up at each persons' seat was going to be miles easier than trying to carry hot bowls of soup, not to mention it'd take less time.
Mac hovered, not really able to be of any assistance but wanting to feel like he was doing something. That quality made him an incredible good operative and scientist, but it also made him the most frustrating person I had ever known when he was sick.
"Go get the others," I said kindly. "Food's ready. And then, quite honestly, you look like you should go back to bed."
The glare I received was half hearted at best and there was no accompanying argument, which was a testament to just how terrible Mac was still feeling.
"This smells great," Jack said, sitting down heavily.
"I can't even smell it," Riley said in a near whine. "God, I wish I could smell it."
"At least you can swallow," Mac muttered.
"Go take some more of the spray," I instructed him. "Honestly, there's no point in suffering when you can fix it."
Mac turned his blue eyes toward me, wide and a little blood shot.
"Fiiiine," I replied after a moment. "You owe me so bad once you get better."
I stood and grabbed the spray, tossing it at his head. Despite being unwell, he still caught it.
Dinner took a lot longer to finish than normal even though there was less chatting.
Jack, to nobodies surprise, had a second helping of soup but he was leaning his head on his fist as he finished. Mac had also started to flag, blinking owlishly and trying to keep focus. Riley seemed to be faring better, but ate the least as she couldn't breathe and eat at the same time.
"I really want to help you with the dishes," Riley said. "But my head is so filled with cotton wool."
"I did most of the washing up earlier," I waved her off. "All I need to do is wash the pot. These can go in the dishwasher."
"Mac hasn't pulled it apart yet?" Jack asked.
"Nope. And he isn't touching a thing while he's unwell," I replied, staring my partner down.
"I'm not that bad," Mac argued.
"You really are, brother," Jack disagreed.
"You can barely stay awake," I said. "I'm not currently worried. But if you get up with a fever then I will stop you."
"No offense, but 'm stronger th'n you," Mac said. His speech was getting slurred in the way it only did when he was exhausted.
"There are other ways to stop people than brute strength, love," I reminded him. "You taught me that."
Standing, I stacked the empty bowls and took them to the dishwasher, and Jack brought the empty pot to me.
"Mac really needs rest," he said to me.
"No kidding."
Jack looked at me, doing his best to seem unimpressed despite the way his eyelids were sagging.
"Jack, you all need rest. I have the time off to look after you all," I told him. "Just go to bed."
Riley, standing on the other side of the counter, sneezed again and groaned.
"Oh!" I exclaimed. "Hold on, Riles."
I rushed to the bathroom and went through the cupboards, pulling a few boxes out before I found what I was looking for. Grabbing the box, and shoving the others back haphazardly, I raced back to Riley.
"Sudafed," I said, sliding the box to her. "It worked really well when I had that cold last year."
"Thanks," she said, and as she pulled the sheet of tablets out I poured her a glass of water.
"None for me?" Jack asked.
"Blocked nose?"
"No," he admitted.
"Runny nose?"
"No. But I have a headache."
I tossed a different box at him.
"Take an aspirin."
"Amusing as this is," Riley told us. "I'm going to take a scolding hot shower and go back to bed."
"Good thinking, baby girl," Jack said. Then he held out his arms.
"Hug?" he pouted at her.
Riley rolled her eyes but walked to him and gave him a quick hug before shuffling to the bathroom.
"Can't believe she still does that," he murmured. "Used to be the only time she'd hug me, when she was sick."
It was no more than half a hour later and both Jack and Riley were curled up in their beds. I wouldn't have been surprised if Riley was already asleep, and though the lack of snoring said that Jack wasn't yet asleep, I would have been surprised if he was awake in another half an hour's time.
Mac was stretched out, his head in my lap and long legs curled so he fitted on the couch.
"You know, you'd be more comfortable in bed," I said, fingers running through his hair.
He hummed in agreement but didn't move.
"I'll move before I really fall asleep," Mac said quietly. "Jus' really comf'rtble."
"You're already halfway asleep," I told him. "You're slurring your words"
" Eh, 'm fine," he replied, flapping an arm. "Don' wanna move. Don' wanna make you move."
I snorted in amusement but let him be.
It didn't take long for Mac's breathing to start to even out toward sleep, so I shook his shoulder gently to wake him.
"Gah, what?" he complained before coughing.
"Bed time, genius," I explained. "I'm not strong enough to carry you to bed, and I won't wake Jack just for this."
Mac grumbled but he did sit up slowly, wiping a hand over his face.
"Throat still hurts," he sighed. "And now my head's starting to ache."
"How about this? You have a shower if you want, brush your teeth and get changed and I'll get you a cup of tea and an aspirin."
"Can I gargle the aspirin?" Mac asked, looking kind of pathetic.
"Of course," I replied. "Did you want a tea?"
"Apple and spearmint?"
I ran a hand through his hair, pulling the damp fringe off of his face.
"I'll have it ready when you are," I replied.
While Mac was in the bathroom, I changed and put the kettle on. I knew it would take me less time to get everything sorted than it would for Mac to be ready, so I tidied up around the house a little. As I was pottering around, I heard someone call out my name. I stopped, listening again for who it was. At the second call, I knocked and then entered Bozer's room.
Jack was lying on the bed, sheets thrown off and one arm above his head.
"What's up, Jack?" I asked quietly, mindful of his headache.
"I feel disgusting," he moaned. "And I'm so warm and thirsty."
"But you don't want to get up?" I guessed.
"Don't think I could, even if I wanted to," he sighed.
"Well, I can bring you a bottle of water and a bottle of powerade," I told him.
"Let me sleep in a cold bathtub," Jack said.
"Nope. You know that won't actually help. Sweat it out, Dalton."
"You are cruel. I bet you aren't this mean to Mac," Jack pouted.
"Mac hasn't spiked a fever yet," I told him. "And would you feel better if I told you there's a bottle of blue with your name on it?"
"What are you waiting for? Go, go," he weakly lifted his arm to wave me out again.
"I'll be back in a sec," I told him with a laugh.
I wandered back to the kitchen and switched the kettle on to boil while I grabbed Jack's drinks. I also removed the half drunk bottle that Mac had opened earlier. And while the kettle boiled I returned to Jack.
"Here." I placed both bottles on the bedside table closest to Jack.
"Thank ya, darlin'," he said, reaching for the cold water. The condensation was already dripping down the bottle.
"Sleep well, Jack."
"And I thought you said you weren't that tired," I commented as I walked into the bedroom.
Mac was sitting up but he looked like he was seconds away from falling asleep just as he was.
" I might be a little tired," he mumbled, not even opening his eyes.
"You don't HAVE to drink the tea," I told him. "You could just lie down, you know."
Mac cracked his eyes open a tad and held out his hands.
"You've made it," he said. "Would be rude not to drink it."
I handed the drink across carefully, making sure that it didn't spill.
"I don't mind if you'd rather just sleep."
All that comment did was make Mac take a mouthful just to prove he was going to drink it. Thankfully the liquid had cooled to a drinkable temperature.
While he was slowly sipping on the tea, I changed and slid into bed. Mac looked at me when he felt the bed dip and I could see the cogs turning in his head.
"It's only...8pm," he said in confusion. "You don't normally... it's too early?"
I leant across and kissed him on the temple.
"I have a house full of sick agents," I told him. "I don't want to wake you with anything. Besides, I like sitting in bed next to you."
As he shifted closer I could feel the heat radiating off his skin. It would seem that Mac had reached the fever stage of the illness, which could be both a good and bad thing. Good in that it meant he was nearly at the end point. But bad because a feverish Angus MacGyver was the version of MacGyver most likely to cause me issues.
"Lie down and get some rest," I said, taking the empty cup from his loose grip. "You'll feel better after you do."
"You'll stay?" he asked, and he sounded so much younger. I could almost imagine a little Mac asking his dad or his grandfather the same thing.
"Of course," I said earnestly. "I'll be here when you wake up. Every time and for as long as you want me."
He slid down the bed, twisting so that his forehead was against my hip. Once he was settled I started running my fingers through his hair again, waiting for him to drift into sleep once more.
I thought he had fallen asleep when he mumbled something.
"What was that?" I asked quietly.
" 'll always want you here," he said, soft as a sigh.
"Then I'll always stay," I replied just as quietly.
I didn't get a reply to that, this time Mac was solidly asleep.
Something jostled me in my sleep and pulled me to wakefulness. The room was still pitch black and the house was silent. I grabbed for my phone and squinted when the bright screen showed me that it was 3am. Flopping onto my back with a sigh, I realised that the other side of the bed was empty. I threw my arm out, hoping that I'd end up hitting Mac. Instead I was met with cooling sheets and empty space. Abruptly I realised that the jostling that woke me was him getting up and, now that I was more awake, there were sounds coming from the kitchen. Not cooking sounds but buzzing and hammering sounds. I felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped on me with how quickly I went from drowsily half awake to fully alert. I barely stopped to shove my feet in shoes and pull on a dressing gown before I was running out the bedroom.
The sight that greeted me was one that I was incredibly familiar with, but not one that I had wanted to see. Mac was sitting on the floor of the kitchen, pieces of what looked like the blender spread out around him and his Swiss army knife in his hand. Never mind the fact that his normally steady hands were shaking and he kept wiping his damp fringe out of his eyes.
"Whatcha doin' there?" I asked, crouching next to him.
"If I could just..." he trailed off. He pondered the piece in his hand before shaking his head and placing it down.
"No, not big enough. I need..." he cast his eye around the room. "I need, Oh!"
He shot upright and stumbled towards the fridge.
"What do you need?" I asked, trailing after him.
He turned and blinked owlishly at me.
"I… the voltage wasn't strong enough. But if I could boosts it then maybe..." he trailed off into muttering.
"Which plug do you need?" I asked.
"No, not the plug the...hmmm."
I shook my head at him as he started raiding one of the kitchen drawers for cables that I had no idea lived in there.
"Love, is this going to wake Jack up?" I asked.
"Why would any of this wake Jack up?" Mac asked in confusion.
"It's 3am," I said bluntly.
"He isn't here."
"Yes, he is," I replied. "He and Riley are staying here while you're all sick."
"Oh," Mac said quietly. "But I'm not sick."
I wasn't going to argue with him while he was like this, from previous experience I knew that it wasn't going to get me anywhere.
"But you wouldn't want to wake Jack and Riles while they're resting, would you?"
I decided that guilt was a better way of going about it. The guilt card would always work, I knew that, and it was something I only ever used in cases like this. And sure enough, Mac slowly put whatever was in his hands down on the kitchen counter and turned to me.
"I suppose I could do this later," he admitted. "I just."
He ran a hand through his hair.
"I woke up and there was so much going through my brain and I had to do something."
Now this was familiar territory, sick Mac or not. And we had made lists of multiple ways to deal with it.
"Come back to bed," I suggested.
Somehow the fever had taken Mac's ability to be subtle and he looked me over and grinned.
"Not like that," I sighed. "Not tonight anyway."
He did look adorable pouting.
"I can either read you something or we could continue watching something on TV," I told him. "You pick."
"Read something," Mac said decisively. "I don't care what. Hearing you is relaxing."
"Like Jack in the field?" I asked, steering him back to our bedroom.
"Sorta? You're both safe but it's different," he mumbled. "Jack's got my back. Don't needa worry, can just focus. You... you're calm. 'f you're there then there's no threat 'cause you don' go where there's threats."
His eyelids were drooping as we walked the short distance, and he flopped heavily onto the bed. I probably didn't need to grab the book from my bedside table, Mac looked like he was mere seconds away from falling back asleep as it was. But, because he'd asked, I settled against the headboard and opened to my book mark and started to read. By the time I'd finished the chapter Mac was deep in sleep.
It was proof of how unwell everyone had been feeling that I was the first person up the next morning. Leaving Mac sleeping, I showered and dressed before starting on breakfast.
I wasn't sure how hungry anyone was going to be, nor when they would all emerge, so I settled on pancakes. And as I was placing the last one on the top of the stack, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye.
"You're looking better," I said to Jack.
"Feeling it too," he replied. "A long night's sleep and I'm good to go."
I raised my eyebrows at that statement.
"I think Matty would disagree."
"Boss lady's too cautious," he scoffed. "I'm fightin' fit! Just watch me go."
"So you'd be up for a two mile run then?" Riley asked, shuffling in to the kitchen still yawning.
"Uh, maybe not that far..." Jack said hurriedly. "But you know, I could still take out a bad guy or two."
Riley just ignored him.
"I would have saved you some," I said to Riley. "You didn't need to get up yet."
She shrugged. "I woke up to the smell of pancakes, I wasn't going back to sleep."
"Well that officially makes Mac the last one up," I commented.
I started to set a couple of pancakes aside for Mac when Jack spoke again.
"What are you doing? Nu-uh. You snooze you lose. Can't put them aside," he said.
I decided that Riley's idea of ignoring Jack was, in fact, the best way to go about things this morning. Besides, I had heard the bathroom door shut and knew that Mac wasn't more than five minutes away.
"It's official," I announced, placing my phone on the table. "You guys have two more days of sick leave."
"Matty?" Mac asked.
I nodded.
"She wants all of you well and truly past being contagious before you go back. Can't risk infecting the entirety of Phoenix."
"Woo! Two days off to do nothing at all," Jack cheered. "So what are y'all gonna do?"
"Are you going to continue with whatever you were doing at 3am?" I asked Mac.
"What?"
I blinked at him.
"You got up at 3, and I think that was the blender in pieces around you," I told him.
"I don't even remember getting up, let alone what I was trying to make," he said with a frown.
Jack and I shared a look, not even remotely surprised.
"Is this normal?" Riley asked.
"For most people, no," I said.
"But for Mac, yep," Jack finished.
"Guess that means I need to put the blender back together," Mac said, ignoring us.
"If you could," I smiled at him. "Preferably before Bozer gets back and finds out."
"Later," Mac waved a hand. "I think I'm going to spend today out here in the sun, with a book."
That sounded like a great idea, and I could tell by Jack and Riley' expressions that they agreed.
It was going to be a good day.
