Things had been going so smoothly, they could almost forget how rocky their lives had been leading up to Mac becoming a full-fledged agent at DXS.
He and Jack fell back into their role as partners as seamlessly as if they'd never stopped working together. And they had back up in the field whenever they needed it. Bozer didn't seem to have any idea what was really going on with his roommate. And Thornton seemed to have adopted them as her favorite team, despite the fact that Mac was the youngest agent in the history of DXS.
Mac occasionally took some shit from some of the older, more experienced agents, but Jack mostly made sure they left him alone, and on the rare occasions he wasn't around, Mac had no problem holding his own (or staging revenge pranks that acted as legendary deterrents).
No failed missions, no major injuries, no real problems. Just a string of successes and a jacket full of commendations.
But Mac still couldn't sleep worth a damn.
Because the other thing the last six months had brought was exactly no word on what Ron O'Neill was up to or where the hell he was.
Mac's dreams had driven him out of bed while the moon was still hanging lazily in the sky.
He didn't check the clock, because he knew if he did, it would just piss him off. But thankfully Boze had been invited to be Penny Parker's escort to an old friend's wedding up in Mission City, so he could just turn on all the lights, and watch TV until it was light enough to go for a run.
Penny had asked Mac to go, but he used the excuse that he was traveling a lot for work right now and it made his schedule unpredictable. It wasn't a total lie. But also, Penny and Boze couldn't seem to understand, Mac didn't feel connected to Mission City, he felt repelled by it. There were people he cared about there, like Bozer's mom and dad, but Mac was content to FaceTime on holidays. Going there just brought up too much stuff he wasn't interested in dealing with.
Besides, because of the intel that told DXS O'Neill was gunning for him, Jack was more or less stuck to him like glue, and he certainly couldn't go to a wedding with a bodyguard in tow.
Damn it, Jack's says bodyguard so much, now my brain subs it in for Overwatch every time I'm tired.
After he failed the basement level of The Last of Us for the third time (a game Jack absolutely refused to be around for) Mac contemplated the light through the glass door to his deck. The slight tinge of grey said he could reasonably head out for a run soon without seeming like a crazy person. Because of the Mazari threat, it stressed Jack out when Mac went on his own, but even if it wasn't insanely early, Mac wasn't sure he could stand company. It had been a hellish night of perfect recollection of … too many things no one should have in their heads.
He should have known it was going to be like that.
He hadn't even wanted his girlfriend around last night.
He'd lied outright, claiming he was busy with pre-agreed to plans with Bozer and Jack that he couldn't reasonably cancel, when Nikki suggested they go out to Ojai again for the long weekend Thornton offered as an acknowledgement of a job well done on retrieving a hard drive from a suspected industrial spy in Silicon Valley. The vineyard was a nice enough place, very romantic he supposed, and it was the one place he'd been with her that Nikki didn't seem "on" in some way. But it belonged to her mother's large, boisterous Greek family, who made it their mission to feed them more than any human beings should be able to consume and press glasses of wine into their hands incessantly and talk and laugh and make music … Mac supposed a lot of people would find it downright idyllic, but he just found it … overwhelming. And he was still 'a couple of beers with maybe two or three other people constituted a raucous party' kind of guy, and even that was not a frequent form of decompression for him. He'd rather run, or hit the gym, or if something prevented that, he'd play video games or work on his bike, or maybe dive into some project that occurred to him.
When she offered the idea, his first impulse had been to just say yes. He didn't like to disappoint her. Hell, Mac would admit he struggled with disappointing anyone, even when it was absolutely in his best interests to do so. And disappointing Nikki resulted in a significant decline in another very pleasant form of decompressing.
But even a twenty-four year old libido could not have convinced him that company (who didn't seem to understand why he liked to leave the light on overnight or might want to get up and swim a hundred laps at 2 am after waking up in a cold sweat) was a good idea with the way he'd felt by the time he'd left the office on Friday.
Oh, hey, swimming's not a bad idea. Then I can wait until Jack shows up to hit the hills so he doesn't have a heart attack about it. He decided to start his coffee maker and go change.
He dove into the deep end about fifteen minutes later, gasping at the shock from the cold water as he broke the surface. Bozer was always complaining that they should heat the pool so it was more pleasant to swim in during the cooler months, but Mac liked the reset the Diver's Reflex gave his nervous system at times like this. He treaded water for a couple of minutes until his breathing slowed back down and his body adjusted to the temperature. Then, he threw himself into laps, going around the edge so he had to stay attentive to not run into the corners and changing his stroke on the short sides of the pool so it used different muscle groups. He figured there was nothing wrong with getting in some additional fitness benefits while he forced his brain to behave itself.
When he finally hauled himself out of the water, his arms and legs were shaking. It was also full light and the sounds of some heavier traffic made their way to his ears, letting him know he'd probably been at it for hours. He decided to go inside to change into his running gear and blow dry his hair. If Jack showed up and it looked like Mac had been kicking his own ass since before sun up, he'd probably be a pain in the aforementioned ass by demanding they go out for breakfast rather than on the run Mac both wanted and needed this morning. Not that Mac was opposed to breakfast, he just needed to quiet the noise in his head first.
He got to his feet, wrang out his hair and the edges of swim shorts, grabbed a towel, and headed headed inside. When he entered the living room he nearly jumped out of his skin.
"Jack! What're you doing here so early?"
Jack's eyebrows climbed and he stretched his arms out casually over the back of the sofa. "Early? Mac, buddy, it's after seven. How long you been out there?"
Mac avoided looking at Jack by toweling off his hair. "A little while, I guess."
Jack smirked knowingly, and put his feet on the coffee table. "I guess you've been out there a longer while. Your lips are blue."
Mac shrugged. "It's chilly out."
"Your coffee's cold, too," Jack observed.
Mac shrugged again. "I'm gonna go change. You still wanna hit the hills with me this morning? Or are you putting that on the Murtaugh List, too?" Mac figured teasing Jack about being old was a good way to make him forget he was preparing to enter lecture mode.
Jack knew defensiveness when he saw it and wondered vaguely why Mac didn't just own up to having not slept again. He knew Mac thought he was overprotective, sometimes took his role as Overwatch too far, but he also knew that Mac was not averse to telling him to minding his own damn business if he thought Jack was hovering unnecessarily. And Mac had gotten a lot better about just saying when something was bugging him.
Jack frowned for a minute more before answering, wondering if Mac would just fill the silence between them. When he didn't, Jack decided if Mac could be less than truthful, he was okay with doing it, too. "I actually think I mighta tweaked my back a little yesterday. I was thinking of seeing if you wanted to get your workout in at the company gym so I could use the sauna and try to loosen it up."
Apparently let off the hook for swimming roughly the length of the English Channel, Mac's face lit up at the prospect of getting a lecture free run, even if it was on a treadmill. "Oh, damn, I'm sorry you hurt yourself, Jack." He started toward his room to change into street clothes since he had gear in his locker at work. "But yeah, I could hit the gym instead."
Jack grinned at Mac's back. "Great. And we can hit the diner on the way."
Mac stopped, head dipping fractionally. Okay, so maybe off the hook was a bit of a stretch.
He turned back toward Jack. "Um, how about we hit the diner on the way home?"
"Mac, buddy, you really wanna go workout on a belly full of burnt, cold coffee?"
Mac concealed a sigh. He couldn't tell if Jack was just being genuine or if he knew exactly what was going on with him and had decided for some reason to be subtle this morning, but either way, he didn't see a good way around it without being a jerk. "You make a good point," he conceded. "But if there's an hour between me and warming up from movement, gimme a couple of minutes to grab a hot shower first."
0-0-0
Mac had to admit, now that he'd eaten his weight … no, more like Jack and Bozer's combined weight, in bacon and home fries, with a few bites of scrambled egg thrown in, along with about a half gallon of really good hot coffee, he felt pretty good. Although the longer they lingered over their food, the more Mac got the idea that Jack didn't really care about going to the gym to use the sauna. He was pretty sure it had been a ploy to get him here, but now he didn't mind as much as he had when he first suspected it back at his place.
The pretty thirty-something waitress, who Mac was pretty sure was flirting with Jack (but it was a lot more subtle than how Nikki flirted with him, so it made it harder to tell) came back over for roughly the tenth time with the coffee pot.
"I'm all set, thank you," Mac said, holding up his hand.
Then she turned to Jack. "How about you, sugar? Get you anything else?"
"Well, darlin'," Jack drawled at his most Texan. "I have been meaning to ask you for months now if you'd have any interest–"
She cut him off by taking the pen from behind her ear and writing her phone number down on his napkin. "Why, yes, I would."
Mac pretended to be very interested in something on his phone while they made plans for that evening. He absently finished his second order of bacon while he scrolled through his personal email without really reading anything. As he did his best not to look like he was listening to Jack's much more sophisticated than his romance game for pointers, Nikki texted him.
'You sure I can't change your mind about a little getaway, Mac? I promise I'll be more fun than your roommate and self-appointed big brother.'
Mac half smiled, but decided that while he felt better than he had when he'd practically fallen out of bed this very early morning, he couldn't do the big family noise that going to Ojai meant, or pretending to sleep until Nikki was ready to get up, which on days off might not be until 10 or 11 o'clock in the morning. So, he replied, 'Sorry, this bachelor party isn't going to plan itself,' He hesitated for a moment, then figuring he should say something relationship related, he added, 'I do miss you though.'
Then he decided he didn't want to get into a whole conversation where he'd have to maintain his excuse, so he turned off his phone and slipped it into his jacket pocket. Maybe he'd text her more later, or after Jack took off to pick up the waitress for their date later, he'd even reach out and say things had wrapped up sooner than he'd thought and find out if she wanted to come over. He wasn't interested in going to the vineyard, but if he could keep his head feeling as level as it did right now, he might not mind some company this evening.
Jack and Daphne were getting their flirt on hard enough that the short order cook was glaring at them from behind the counter, so Mac zoned out, looking out the window and picking at the remainder of his now cold potatoes. He wasn't even sure how long he'd been doing that when Jack was snapping his fingers almost right in front of his eyes to get his attention.
Mac flashed him an irritated glare and batted Jack's hand away from his face. "What? Are we going to Vegas so you two can tie the knot now?"
Jack waved his phone at Mac. "Patty's calling."
Thornton never just called. If their phones rang from her number, it was mission related. Mac wondered how much he was going to regret giving up on sleep when he had as Jack answered.
"Well, hey there Director Thornton. What can we do for you this fine Saturday on which I just know you're not callin' us in because I just made a date and I know you don't want me to think I'm cursed."
Mac snickered at that.
Jack sort of shushed him with a gesture and Mac could hear most of both sides of the conversation because Jack always had his volume all the way up.
"Is Mac with you? He isn't answering his phone."
"Yes, ma'am. He's right here, finishing his breakfast. We were headed into the office here shortly to hit the gym. But you sound kinda urgent, so I'm guessin' that's not how we're wrapping up our morning."
"Well, that depends very much on how you both feel about what I just received from Homeland regarding a certain man going around by an entirely false Irish last name being spotted in Los Angeles on a security camera this morning."
"Oh. Oh, shit."
"Indeed. Particularly since a nearby biomedical research facility just went dark."
Mac was already on his feet, pulling on his jacket.
Jack tossed too much money on the table as he rose. "Be there in ten." He looked at Mac after he ended the call. "You okay, kid."
Mac swallowed. "No. I haven't been okay since he got away in Afghanistan." He took a deep breath. "But I will be if we can help DHS get that son of a bitch."
Jack nodded. "Then let's go get you some okay back."