Mac heard his phone chime with a text. It was only on his nightstand, but he didn't pick it up. He just didn't want to move.
It was early.
It was Saturday.
And this was supposed to be a day off, damnit.
It chimed again.
Mac groaned as he rolled over. It hadn't been a hard mission. There was absolutely no reason he should feel as kicked to crap as he did.
He propped himself up on an elbow and reached for his water bottle.
Ow! …Damn.
His throat was sore. His ear hurt when he swallowed. He had a stiff neck. And he generally felt like week-old deep fried dog crap.
Again.
His phone chimed a third time. He finally picked it up.
Thankfully, it was just Jack. He really needed to set the ringtones on this new phone so he'd know who was who.
'Want some company on your run, or you already ten miles in?'
Previous texts were just, Mac, you up? Followed by, Dude, c'mon. We're burnin' daylight.
Mac thought about how to reply and settled on, 'Just got back. Forgot my phone. Heading to the shower.'
He didn't know why he didn't just say 'hey man I feel like hell, wanna come watch Die Hard,' but it was probably for the same reason he hadn't said anything after this happened the last time. He'd had a run of this sort of thing for several months. At the moment, he was in no mood for Boze to go full Mama Bear for sure. And an overbearing Overwatch was one thing. Papa Jack full of old school wisdom was a bridge too far when you were already operating at less than full capacity.
Mac sighed. Instead of the house projects he'd planned for today, maybe he'd just go back to sleep for a while and see if that helped.
His phone chimed again. 'Awesome. Be there with bagels and stuff by the time you get out.'
He briefly considered telling Jack he hadn't really been on a run but rather had the overnight sort of company that would earn him an emoji fist bump and a day full of peace and quiet, but he knew Jack would just ask him who, when, and all manner of other embarrassing, personal questions that were bad enough when you didn't have to lie to answer them.
He considered his options briefly, then texted back, 'Could you grab me a smoothie instead? I already did carbs before my run. Just tell 'em the usual.'
Then, without waiting for a reply he forced himself out of bed and into a hot shower.
The water was wonderful and the steam seemed to ease the scratching in his throat.
He wasn't ready to turn the water off yet when he heard the boisterous exchange between Jack and Bozer and, a previously unannounced, Riley. He got out reluctantly, dried off, and got dressed in his usual weekend jeans and flannel, but what he really wanted was his sweats and T-shirt.
From the safety of his bathroom he cleared his throat several times and tested his voice.
Not great.
He gargled with warm water and tried again.
Better. Just get them to watch movies and nobody will even notice. Then you can claim jet lag and kick them out early and get some extra sleep, maybe feel human by Monday morning.
He glanced in the mirror again and half grinned. He looked reasonably human. Maybe this was just jet lag, coupled with sleeping with his mouth open. He hadn't breathed a lot of teargas on the mission, but his sinuses did feel kind of iffy on the flight home. That must be it.
"There he is!" Riley greeted with a huge smile. "I thought you were gonna shower through our celebration!"
Mac took the tall coffee she offered to him and took a swig as he sat down before answering with a raised eyebrow to conceal the grimace swallowing caused. "Celebration?"
"Told ya he wasn't listenin'," Jack chuckled.
Mac turned his questioning gaze to his partner. "Listening to what? You guys passed out on the jet way before I did. I didn't miss any conversation, I'm pretty sure." He sounded more querulous than he'd intended. But to be fair, he didn't like not knowing things. And he prided himself on his listening skills, personally and professionally.
"Somebody's grumpy this morning," Bozer said as his entrance into the fray. "Have a cinnamon roll. You're always grumpy when you crash before you eat real food after a mission."
Mac made a face. The thought of eating anything sticky suddenly turned his stomach. Actually, the thought of eating anything at all wasn't great. But Jack spared him from saying anything by waving a frosty cup with a straw at him.
"Mac ate before his run." He made a funny face. "I said to give you the usual and I'm pretty sure there's spinach in this, so…."
Mac shook his head with a grin. "Kale."
"Mac, buddy, you know I love ya, but there is seriously something wrong with any guy who juices kale over eating a cinnamon roll."
Mac laughed, almost frowning when it sounded a little hoarse. "It doesn't taste like kale, Jack. It's got berries and ginger and frozen banana. It's really good!"
"If you say so, kid." Jack said with a dramatic eye roll. "Whatever fuels you up for Riley's party is okay by me."
Mac's eyebrows went up together as he took a tentative sip of the icy drink. It didn't turn his stomach, for which he was grateful after how he'd felt a minute ago, and the cold was bliss on his throat. "Am I missing something important? Because I know we already had your birthday, Riles."
She shrugged and chewed a bit of cinnamon roll as she sat down next to him. "Well, you guys have your … bro-versary or whatever. Not to mention Cairo Day."
"No matter how much food Jack buys, that's not a party," Mac interrupted.
She laughed. "Okay, but I just kind of wished we had a team thing I was part of."
Jack patted her arm on his way to sit across from them with the whole bag of donuts he'd brought. "Today is the anniversary of Ri joining the team," Jack explained for her.
"When I was in Super Max, we'd joke, you know, like, when I get outta here, I'm going to Disney Land. So Jack said we should celebrate the anniversary with that. You said mmmmhmmm, which is kind of agreement."
"Me? Agree to Disney?" Mac scoffed. "Have we met?"
Bozer laughed. "You didn't even like it when we were kids."
"It's crowded. And overpriced. And loud. And full of tourists. And did I mention crowded?"
"But you said their churros were worth it."
"They are good churros," Riley grinned. "And Jack's picking up the tab."
"Hey! I never said—"
"Oh, yes you did, Jack. We all heard you," Bozer said earnestly.
Mac grinned. Boze loved Disney Land. He always had.
"Mac didn't!" Jack defended. "Mac didn't even know what we were talkin' about."
Sore throat all but forgotten, Mac winked at Bozer and Riley. "I might not have caught the Disney part, but I definitely heard you say, 'It's all on me, Little Girl,' to Ri."
"See, he did hear us. That's exactly what you said." Riley folded her arms.
"Alright now, I know that look from when you were a kid and I'm not lookin to get my toes stomped on over a couple bucks this mornin'," Jack drawled. "But Mac's gotta say yea to going first cuz he's drivin. We don't all fit into Pop's GTO."
Mac took a contemplative sip of his smoothie. It didn't hurt going down this time. He felt like this morning's moaning and groaning must've really been related to jet lag and tear gas. He'd just been kind of sensitive to it because of how often he'd caught whatever creeping crud was going around the office the last six months or so.
He grinned. "We're going to Disney Land."