Realities

It was late Friday evening when MacGyver knocked on the door of the Thornton's modest home in suburban Chicago.

"Mac, come on in!" Pete greeted him as he opened the door. The two friends exchanged quick hugs.

"How ya doin' Pete?"

"Good, good," the older man replied a bit distractedly. "I hope you brought a suit for tomorrow."

"Yes, I brought a suit for tomorrow," Mac parroted back indulgently.

"And you got a haircut?"

"Of course!"

"You still can't lie, even to a blind man," Pete grunted as he turned and led the way into the living room before settling in an oversized chair.

MacGyver followed, pleased to see how easily his friend managed to get around despite his lack of sight.

"Where's Connie?" Mac asked as he seated himself on the couch.

"She decided to turn in early."

"I still can't believe you guys have been remarried for almost two years!"

"Yeah, how about that?" Pete laughed.

"Aw, come on! You guys were meant to be together. It only took a long divorce to help you figure it out," MacGyver teased before turning the conversation to the reason he had come to Chicago in the first place.

"So, how did you get the board to agree to a meeting so quickly? And on a Saturday?"

Pete leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his rotund belly and a satisfied grin on his face.

"Seems as if this old dog still has a few tricks left in him after all," he chuckled. "Turns out a couple of the Chicago based board members were friends of mine back at the Foundation in Los Angeles. I called in a couple old favors and voila!"

MacGyver smiled at his friend and former boss. Pete was always happiest when he had a project to work on. In the past, that project had usually been MacGyver and now, in a way, it was again.

"Thanks again for taking care of all the red tape and stuff," Mac said.

"Well, I know that's not your forte…besides, I've been getting kinda bored rattling around this house day in and day out."

"Connie's not keeping you on your toes?"

"Oh, she tries…but it isn't the same. You know?"

"Yeah, Pete, I know."

The following morning, MacGyver guided Pete through the maze of corridors that made up the Phoenix Foundation. Upon entering a small conference room, they were greeted by a jovial middle-aged man wearing chinos and a crew neck sweater. Mac looked down ruefully at his suit but new he had to put his best foot forward if he was to get this grant. Belatedly, he regretted not getting a haircut.

"Pete, my friend! So good to see you again! What is this? Twice in one week? You do remember you're retired, don't you?!" the man laughed.

"Andy, thanks for agreeing to meet with us outside of normal hours," Pete replied. "This is MacGyver." He gestured toward his friend.

"Good to meet you," Mac said, shaking Andy's hand before they all took a seat at the large, oval table that dominated the room.

"Ah, your reputation precedes you, Mr. MacGyver! Pete speaks very highly of you, and after reviewing your file I can see that it is well deserved."

"Thank you, sir," Mac replied politely, feeling like a kid in the principal's office waiting for the worst but hoping for the best.

"No need to be so formal! Call me 'Andy'."

MacGyver smiled and nodded his acquiescence.

"Well, then, I suppose you two want to get down to business."

"Won't the others be joining us?" Pete asked, his brow knit in confusion.

"Oh," Andy waved his hand dismissively, apparently forgetting Pete couldn't see it. "There's no need for them," he stated as he opened a portfolio and put on a pair of reading glasses. "All the appropriate paperwork has been submitted and at the weekly board meeting this past Wednesday it was unanimously agreed upon that—"

Mac tried to swallow but found his mouth had gone dry. This was it. One way or another.

"—The Phoenix Foundation will present the Challengers Boys and Girls Club with a grant for the requested amount with a review for renewal every six months."

MacGyver let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding and suddenly realized his lungs were beginning to burn from lack of oxygen. He sat in stunned silence for a moment before reaching across the table to shake Andy's hand in appreciation.

"Now then," Andy continued, "We just need to go over the terms and conditions, have you sign a few more forms, and we can all get on with our weekend!"

XXXXX

Mac stood in his closed garage Sunday evening polishing the hood of the Nomad until he thought the paint would rub off. Frog sat at his feet, panting. A reminder that supper was long over-due.

"I haven't forgotten about you, buddy," MacGyver assured the dog. "We'll eat soon."

Lost in his thoughts, he hardly heard a car pull up his driveway, the drone of the motor suddenly cut off. Frog stood up and wagged his stubby tail. If Mac didn't know any better he'd say the beast was even smiling.

"You can't possibly know who it is," he chided the canine while heading toward the service door. It was then that he saw Joanna headed toward the house.

"In here!" he called.

Upon hearing his voice she made a quick turn and headed to the garage. Her expression flat and unreadable.

"What's up?" Mac asked. He thought she raised her eyebrows slightly.

"I thought you'd call when you got back."

"Oh, yeah, sorry about that. I've had a lot on my mind," he explained as he returned to polishing his car.

"You didn't get the grant?" Jo asked quietly, a hint of pity in her voice.

"No, I got it," he replied dully.

Silence reigned and he knew she was giving him the chance to open himself up and let her in on his thoughts. Usually the one to solve problems, he wasn't used to sharing his concerns with others. But if he wanted a lasting relationship with Jo, or anyone else, he better start…now.

He sighed and sat down on the chrome bumper. "When I got home there was a message on my machine from Vang. He said there's another offer on the building and if I can't come up with the down payment this week I could lose it."

He met her questioning gaze. "The grant money won't be available until the first of the month. By then it will be too late."

Joanna silently sat down beside him. "I've been saving—"

"No! I'm not gonna take that kind of money from you!"

"Why not? That's what friends are for…to help you out."

"I refuse to take advantage of my friends like that!"

"Then pretend you're Jack Dalton!"

MacGyver hung his head and laughed wryly.

"Funny you should mention Jack. The first thing I did was try to call my loan in, but it's so soon and his business is still in the red."

"There's gotta be a way," Joanna murmured, putting a comforting hand on his knee.

"There is." He stood up and turned to look at the car.

Joanna could remain stoic no longer as he saw fear then pain cloud her eyes.

"Please tell me you're not thinking what I think you're thinking," she pleaded.

"If I find the right buyer I'll get enough for the initial rent and then some," he told her matter-of-factly.

"But it was your grandfather's!"

"I still have his cabin," Mac shrugged. "Besides, I hardly drive her anymore. I'm just one guy, I don't need two cars."

"So just like that you're gonna sell the Nomad?" Jo challenged.

"Yeah!" he snapped back. "It's the only logical choice."

"Well, then" Joanna declared, standing up and resting her hands on her hips. "I'll buy it. You can even have visitation rights."

"I told you I'm not gonna take your money."

"No," she retorted. "You said you weren't going to let me give you the money. Consider this a business transaction as if I were any other classic car aficionado."

Mac studied the rigid set of her jaw and the gleam in her eye that suggested she was spoiling for a fight. He might not win this one. Actually, he might not want to. He jammed his splayed fingers through his hair and groaned.

"Fine. You win! I'll agree to take the loan you are offering, but I'm gonna pay you back every cent," he promised.

"Take your time," she said, flashing him a victorious grin.

Awed by the generous, stubborn, beautiful woman in front of him, Mac could contain his emotions no longer. He cupped her cheek with the palm of his hand and lowered his lips to hers in a silent, all-consuming expression of his gratitude.

XXXXX

The tickling in his nostrils roused MacGyver enough to realize two things. His nose was being assaulted by the spicy aroma of Indian food, and soft fingers were gently playing with the hair gathered at the nape of his neck. He raised his head from his desk to find Joanna standing beside him.

"How late is it?" he asked groggily.

"Too late to be eating that stuff," she grimaced, pointing to the take-out containers before him.

"Then why'd you bring it?"

"I knew you'd want it," she shrugged.

Ever since securing the building, Mac had been spending his days at the law firm and his evenings in his office at what was now known as Challengers. It was a well-known fact that he hated paperwork, and he had sorely underestimated the number of forms and reports that were required for his new venture. However, he didn't mind it so much since he knew the eventual outcome would far outweigh his current misery. His ultimate goal was to have the club open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week to provide safety and shelter to anyone who needed it. However, his immediate plans were much more modest. He planned to have the club open from mid-afternoon through early evening so kids who normally went home from school to empty houses or out on the streets would have a safe, friendly place to pass the time.

"How's it going?" Joanna asked, nodding toward the papers scattered across his desk.

"Okay, I guess," Mac answered before shoving a forkful of food into his mouth.

"You can't go on like this," Jo protested. "You're gonna make yourself sick." Mac stopped eating long enough to give her a pointed look, but she continued, "Surely you know someone who can at least help out until the club is up and running."

Silence hung in the air as each considered the options.

"What about Cynthia Wilson?" Jo asked excitedly. "Didn't you say that she and her husband started Challengers in Los Angeles from the ground up?"

MacGyver was about to protest, to tell Joanna that Cynthia had cut ties with Challengers, but it died on his lips. He remembered running into her in L.A. after Jack had his accident. She had happily stepped in and took charge of the club when it was short-handed. He could at least call her and maybe get some advice.

Three days later Mac parked the Nomad in front of a hangar at a small, municipal airport a few miles from the city where Jack had temporarily parked his almost-new (a term he preferred over 'slightly-used') Cessna after flying in from Los Angeles. Cynthia emerged from the building with Jack a few steps behind.

"Thanks so much for coming!" Mac greeted her with a hug. "How was your flight?"

"Oh, MacGyver! It is so good to see you again!" Cynthia exclaimed. "Jack is a wonderful pilot! He handled the turbulence so smoothly!"

Mac cocked an eyebrow at his friend, "Turbulence?"

"Well…uh…still getting used to the new controls. They're pretty sensitive," Jack explained with a half-hearted chuckle.

"Ah," was all Mac could say.

The trio headed straight to Challengers and Mac's friends were duly impressed upon entering the building.

"It's absolutely perfect!" Cynthia gushed, her smile wide and eyes twinkling. MacGyver didn't think he had seen her this enthused since Booker's death.

"You've done good, Compadre!" Jack congratulated him with a slap on the back.

"You can use my office while you're here," Mac told Cynthia as he led them into a small room.

Cynthia looked at the papers and file folders strewn across the top of an old wooden desk and then at MacGyver.

"I was gonna clean up," Mac replied sheepishly to her unvoiced observation, "But I didn't want to get rid of anything you might need."

The woman simply gave him a knowing smile and a nod. "Before I get started, perhaps I could freshen up a bit?"

"Of course!" Mac quickly agreed.

Minutes later they were standing in MacGyver's living room where Joanna had just finished cleaning and now stood by his side.

"Cynthia Wilson, I'd like you to meet Joanna Fairfax," MacGyver said as he introduced the two women.

Cynthia smiled and reached out, taking Jo's hand in both of hers, giving it an approving squeeze. "So you're the young woman who has stolen MacGyver's heart," she proclaimed rather than asked. "I can't wait to get to know you better!"

Mac cleared his throat to get Joanna's attention. "And of course you remember Jack Dalton."

"A hard man to forget," she answered with a warm smile that held a touch of humor as she offered her hand to the pilot.

"Ah, mon cheri! You're looking lovely as ever!" Jack gallantly swept off his aviator's hat, bowed, and kissed the back of her hand while Mac glared at him.

"Cynthia, you take the bed upstairs," MacGyver directed after a few moments, "I'll just take the couch."

"What about me?" Jack asked.

"What about you?" Mac queried.

"Where am I supposed to sleep?"

"In a motel, Jack. There's one real close and it even has free HBO."

Jack dramatically placed both hands over his heart and staggered backwards with a gasp.

"You would exile your best friend, who, by the way, just did you a big favor, to a cold, lonely motel room?!"

MacGyver rolled his eyes, but Joanna was more sympathetic.

"Well, if it's going to be a problem you could—"

"Sleep in the motel with all the other lonely people," Mac asserted, cutting her off.

"Fine!" Jack huffed. "But you remember this the next time you think about asking me for another favor!"

"Yeah, yeah," Mac replied languidly as he started to close the door behind Jack.

"Wait a minute," Jack retorted with his foot keeping the door open. "If you're kickin' me out of the nest I'm gonna need some wheels."

MacGyver sighed and considered the Jeep and Nomad parked in the driveway. Grudgingly, he plucked a keychain from the brass sailboat nailed to the wall next to the door and dropped the keys into Jack's outstretched hand.

"You can take my Jeep. But be careful!" Mac warned

"Gracias, amigo!" Jack grinned and fairly skipped to the car. "Hasta manana!" He called.

MacGyver dropped his chin to his chest and groaned. "I think I've just made a very big mistake." Joanna stood next to him, rubbing his back in commiseration as they watched Jack back the Jeep out of the drive and peel off down the street.

The next morning, Mac drove Cynthia to the Challengers Club on his way to the law firm. He was surprised to find Jack there and waiting for them in the parking lot.

"What are you doing here?" he asked his friend. "I thought you'd be half way to L.A. by now."

Jack shrugged. "What can I say? Business is slow so I thought I'd hang around for a few days. Maybe help out."

This took Mac by surprise. He studied his friend's face carefully, awaiting the left-eye-twitch that would indicate Jack was up to something more than just wanting to help out, but the tell-tale eye remained steady as a rock.

"I'm not lyin' to you, Mac," Jack confirmed. "No tricks, no schemes, nothin'. I just wanna help."

"Sorry. Force of habit," Mac grimaced before returning to his car and heading to work. In a way, it was nice to have Jack around again. He forgot how much he missed his conniving, scheming, lying, absolute best friend.

That evening MacGyver returned to Challengers to pick up Cynthia. To his surprise, his borrowed Jeep was still in the parking lot in the same place it had been this morning. Had Jack spent the entire day here? When Mac entered the building he stopped short. The place was so clean it practically sparkled. The game tables, including the air hockey table he had resurrected from a storage unit, had been placed strategically throughout the recreation area. The scent of pine and disinfectant hung in the air.

He entered his…er…Cynthia's office and was once again shocked by the transformation. The papers that had covered the desk were gone, the furniture was neatly arranged, and Cynthia was working away on the computer as Jack leaned back in chair across from her.

"Wow! You guys have been busy!" Mac exclaimed.

Cynthia looked up at him with a gentle smile and Jack turned around, smiling widely.

"It really wasn't that bad, MacGyver," she assured him. "I just tidied up a bit."

That was an understatement!

"And it looks like things are right on track for us to have the grand opening next week."

"Couldn't have done it without your help," Mac told her. He felt a bit chagrinned that after all his hard work and sleepless nights Cynthia had managed to get the place in order in a matter of hours.

"Are you feeling all right?" Jack asked him skeptically.

"Sure. Why?"

"You look a little pale."

"Guess I'm just tired. Nothing a good night's sleep won't cure."