When they first met, Mac thought rank had just given Jack a bad attitude, and he knew that Jack thought he was some kind of problem child the Army only put up with because defusing bombs was like some kind of superpower. Slowly coming to see that the other was much more than their first impressions was a big part of how they'd become friends, as grudging respect turned to genuine affection.

These days, Jack was always talking about Mac like he deserved his own comic book. And Mac had been in awe of Jack's skills as his Overwatch from pretty early on, and not just because they kept bullets out of his back because the man was almost overly dedicated to watching it. But over the last couple of weeks, Mac was seeing a whole new, very impressive side to his partner that had little to do with watching Mac's six.

When they got to Libya and made their way through the desert to the training camp the data from Carlisle had directed them to, Jack had been in his glory. He had an entire team from Tactical at his disposal. Not to mention what Mac liked to think of as Dalton-preferred levels of fire power. All of which Jack used to good effect.

Mac hadn't had a lot of opportunity when they were deployed to see Jack in a real leadership role. Now that he was getting to, he sort of wondered what had kept Jack from going to West Point to pursue being an officer.

He knew Jack had the brains, even though he thought his partner played dumb sometimes (Although, to be fair, Mac thought, Jack usually only plays dumb when he wants to distract me, get me out of my own head by either making me explain myself or by pissing me off - Unless it was one of those times where Jack really didn't have any idea what Mac was doing or talking about, which Mac had to admit was more on him than it was on Jack).

And the man clearly had the skill, too. It wasn't just his weapons expertise. He was good at delegating, logistics, tactics, strategy. He also made friendly with some of the locals near where they were cleaning out the bad guys and going over the place itself, and the surrounding areas, for every scrap of intel. Which had been damned useful for resupplying food and water and managing some slightly nicer accommodations than sleeping in the backs of the trucks they'd rolled in on.

Not that Mac had been resting on his laurels either.

The surrounding desert had been booby trapped to high Heaven and some of the guys they'd bagged had been training in building IED's that seemed designed to blow up and out, almost like they were intended to disperse something. Which would have been bad enough if they were worried about more dirty bombs like they'd encountered in that warehouse in Los Angeles. But now that it appeared there might be the intention to involve biological agents, it was even more disturbing. Fortunately, Mac could have disarmed those in his sleep.

Speaking of sleep, for Mac it had been even thinner than usual.

The couple of weeks they'd been here had yielded a lot of people to question and hand off for more extensive interrogation, lots of equipment of deconstruct to determine possible plans from, and plenty of intel to review in general, which was all shared with Nikki, who was back at the airport, more or less living in the jet, which was serving as their command center and connection to the home office.

But once again, their main objective had already moved on by the time they arrived.

At least he looked and felt a lot less beat up than he had when they'd arrived. But, exhausted, sunburned, dusty, and tired of wearing the desert camo they'd chosen for this mission, Mac sat on a crate in the corner of one of the tents they'd set up to protect their crew from the sun and unforgiving desert wind, staring at a schematic, but not really seeing it. He was glad they'd busted this place up, glad they'd swept up a bunch of terrorists, glad even that he'd been along for ordnance disposal because it took him about a third of the time it did anyone else, and he had a well-developed eye for where things might hide that could otherwise do some real damage if it caught a group unaware.

But O'Neill just disappearing again made him feel like he was chasing a ghost, and frankly, one of those in your personal history was one too many, he was pretty damn sure. So, what he wanted now, more than continuing to comb through this camp, which he was pretty sure they'd already wrung dry, was to go back to LA, take a few days off to cover his face in aloe vera gel and hope the red turned to tan instead of just peeling off and drink water that was actually cold to dispel the almost constant thirst that reminded him way too much of Afghanistan for his comfort.

"Hey, Mac."

"Hmmm," he hummed in response, not necessarily fully cognizant that his partner was standing right in front of him. If he had, he'd have been paying more attention. Jack had gone out with a small squad of tactical guys to investigate a spot some of the locals had tipped them to that might have a few unturned stones in it.

A canteen sloshed at eye level and the sound of water actually snapped him back from his current fantasy about living in his swimming pool on a semi-permanent basis.

"Yeah?" He looked up from the paper he'd been using as an excuse to zone out.

Jack held out the canteen.

Mac put down the papers he'd been holding and took it gratefully, even though he'd have considered selling his soul for some water that was below body temperature at this point. "Thanks." He frowned at the way Jack was looking at him. "What've you got?"

Jack shook his head with a slight grin. There he goes again, readin' my damn mind. Then he looked more serious. "We picked up a couple a strays this morning and hauled 'em back here for questioning."

Mac didn't feel terribly hopeful, because if one of them had been O'Neill, Jack would have just said so. But there was something his partner didn't want to just drop on him, so he took another swig off the canteen to buy himself a minute. Then he just said, "Oh, yeah?"

Jack sat on the crate next to Mac. "One of 'em looks so much like the son of a bitch I dropped when we found you in that barn, for a second I thought he musta come back from the dead."

Mac swallowed hard. He thought about taking another drink, but thought if he did, it might just come back up. He handed Jack back the canteen, like he was just done with it, instead of like he couldn't stand the sound of sloshing water at the moment.

"Relative?" he made himself ask, but couldn't get past the one word.

Jack nodded again, taking in how Mac wasn't exactly looking him in the eye at the moment, which was very much not like Mac. He was also a hundred percent sure that Mac didn't realize he had held his breath for almost a half minute before he'd said anything, or that he was absently massaging his shoulder. "We think so. But he thinks he isn't gonna talk, so I can't say for sure yet."

There was another long pause. "You think he will?"

Jack put his hand on Mac's shoulder. "Mac, I guaran-damn-tee it."

Mac glanced at the expression on Jack's face, then crossed his arms, almost like he was cold, despite the hundred degree heat. "We shouldn't—"

Jack's deeply tanned highlighted the beginnings of real lines when his eyebrows drew together. "Shouldn't what? Get what we need out of 'im?"

Mac took a long slow breath. "Stoop to their level. And, you know, break the Geneva Conventions."

"When we get around to ratifyin' all of 'em, I'll maybe worry about it," Jack drawled. "And honestly Mac, I wouldn't give a good goddamn what I was breaking if it got us O'Neill and his operation. The guy is dealing arms, funneling cash to all kinds of terrorist groups, regardless of their ideology, and sourcing World War Z. I want him bagged and tagged like yesterday, man."

Mac shook his head, still gripping his elbows. "And you want some payback."

Jack nodded. "Maybe I do. Don't you?"

"No … I … No." He shook his head firmly. "I just want him neutralized." He sighed. "You don't think we should just ship this new prisoner back to the States for interrogation?"

"We will. Once I'm done with him." He tried to look at Mac without seeming like he was trying to look at him. "Besides, what do you think is going on back home with the dirties we already shipped back there? Because I'm pretty damn sure Patty ain't buyin' 'em lunch."

Mac's cheek twitched and Jack wasn't sure if it was almost a smile or if he'd flinched a little. "I suppose she isn't."

Jack dipped his head to get a better look at Mac's face. "If it'll make ya feel better, kid, I'll ask him just as nice as his buddies asked you. Real civil like."

This time the twitch got to half a smirk. "That's definitely your payback tone."

"Might be." Jack gave a very Mac-like shrug. "But it's also my this-is-what-our-government-trained-me-for tone. And I'm gonna find out where we need to be lookin' for his boss at the bare minimum, kid."

Mac turned his head to actually look at Jack then. He nodded his head a couple of times, but it was such a subtle movement, Jack almost missed it. "I guess if he really is related to—" He stopped for a second, and the pause was so brief, Jack almost didn't notice that either. "Zahir," he finished, and it was the way he had to force it out that told Jack he'd been right about the catch in Mac's otherwise level tone. "He's probably our best bet." Mac's arms finally uncrossed. And he scratched at where the sunburn on his arms had started to peel under the long sleeves he currently had on. "And we've been chasing our tails for months."

What he didn't say out loud was that with every passing day they hadn't caught up with their target, he was a little more worried about what the man was planning, and a little more on edge that they'd find a way to get to him personally again. But he didn't need to say it out loud for Jack to hear it.

Jack patted him on the shoulder. "Since I know you're not gonna wanna be part of the interrogation, why don't you head back to civilization and get somethin' real to eat? Daniels can give you a ride."

Mac didn't think he could handle the idea of food after this conversation, but Zahra, the wife of their translator Ali who had been their gracious hostess since Jack had established friendly relations with them, probably wouldn't take no for an answer. And she'd definitely make sure he got a shower and something for his sunburn, neither of which sounded bad to him at the moment. And the drinking water would be cold.

Mac stood and stretched. "Civilization sounds good," he said like he was absolutely fine.

Jack got to his feet, favoring him with the raised eyebrow that Mac knew meant he could read his continued disquiet over the methods Jack was more than willing to employ here, but also that Mac was resigned to it being their only way forward. "And how about food, how's that sound?"

Mac raised an eyebrow. "I thought we were done with the Fatten Mac Up campaign?"

Jack grinned. "We were until you stopped doin' more than moving food around on your plate at the Omars place. Zahra's gonna get offended and then she'll stop feedin' me. And she was makin' that shakshuka stuff this morning and Ali got her some Merguez sausage for it."

Mac actually grinned at that. "So not lamb? Well then, I can definitely eat tonight."

"Is that why you've been all peckish? Here I thought it was the work."

Mac saw an excellent opportunity to assuage his partner's concern without being overly honest. "Lamb tastes like sweatsocks. I don't care how much mint or whatever somebody tries to cover it up with."

Jack laughed. "Alright. I'll tell Ed he's givin' you a ride. And I'll be there as soon as I'm done for the day. So don't eat all the sausage, kid."

0-0-0

When Jack got back to the Omars several hours later, he was about done in. But it was worth it to be able to report some progress to Mac. He wasn't done, not by any stretch of the imagination, but he could tell the kid he'd opened a crack. And he would by God use it to pry that son of a bitch wide open and get them every scrap.

He'd offered to help Ali feed the animals before coming inside, but their host wouldn't hear of it. He'd sent Jack in, telling him he was sure dinner was on the table and while they'd both certainly earned it, Ali wouldn't be able to relax until the chores the boys were still too small to take care of were done. Jack had turned toward Ali then, "You sure you're okay with everything that went down out there today?"

The man flashed him a smile. "People like that make the world think they represent all of us, Jack, no matter where we are from, or what we really believe. People like you make sure they don't get away with it." He put his hand on Jack's shoulder and squeezed. "So, I was okay today. And I will be again tomorrow, and the next, until you're all done here."

"I appreciatecha, my friend."

Jack washed his hands and face at the faucet outside. Then he walked inside, and into the small common area, half expecting to find that Mac was hiding in the back room the Omars had offered to the two of them, pretending to sleep. But instead he was at the table with Zahra and the four kids who lived at home. Mac had clearly had a chance to get cleaned up, put something on his sunburn, because even after about five or six hours away from the camp, he looked more tanned, and less crispy. And he was in his civvies, looking very at ease.

The group was all laughing, especially the boys, Sami, Salah, and Sadek. The little girl who was maybe three, Aya, was on Mac's lap, and he was making an amusing show of feeding her one bite from her plate and then taking one himself from his own. Jack felt some of the dusty exhaustion of the day slide off his shoulders at this homey, comfortable scene. He grinned broadly at the way Mac looked entirely at home and the way this little family seemed to have accepted him as a part of it.

It was actually one of the more remarkable things about Mac, he thought.

For someone who said he didn't really get people, and who could be incredibly self-contained and somewhat solitary by nature, Mac was almost always warm when people gave him a chance. And he was great with kids.

Jack had a sense that Mac hadn't had much of a childhood. Not just his mom dying, but other little things he'd let slip from time to time. Especially that first Christmas they'd known each other when he'd been all busted up. He'd talked quite a bit. Jack figured when Mac had a chance to make sure a kid just got a chance to be a kid, he did it. Also, kids just seemed to like him. And their unpretentious, genuineness seemed to put Mac at ease. This was the first time Jack had seen Mac look relaxed in a long while. He was glad they'd taken Ali up on his offer to stay with them.

Mac seemed to sense him standing there and glanced up. The question was in the immediate reserve that flickered across Mac's features. Jack gave a slight nod and tipped him a wink. Mac's brow furrowed for a second and he started to turn back to trying to get Aya to eat the vegetables no one else had been able to convince her were a good idea when she smeared some all over the side of his face.

Zahra looked plainly horrified. "Aya!"

Everyone froze for a second.

Ali stepped into the house at that extremely opportune moment and quipped, "Well, that's one way to get Mac to actually eat something."

Salah, the middle boy, fell off his chair laughing, which set everyone around the table laughing again, including Mac.

Zahra plucked her daughter out of Mac's lap and balanced her on one hip while she attempted to wipe Mac's face with a towel she'd scooped up on her way around the table. Mac blushed furiously at the motherly gesture and took it from her to clean himself up.

"I am so sorry, Mac!"

"It's not her fault." He gave her a very genuine grin. "Jack and Ali have probably been telling her to force feed me behind our backs."

Everyone laughed even more at that.

After dessert of something Jack couldn't couldn't pronounce do matter how many times everyone at the table, including little Aya, said diblah which he was pleased to see Mac eat almost as much of as the kids, Zahra bustled the little ones off to bed, the men sat around the table. The conversation centered around the exceptional meal, the hijinks of the little ones, whether or not Mac thought they should take Aya home with them to make sure he kept eating like he had tonight.

Mac rolled his eyes at that, but he laughed. "I'll take being smeared with the veggies Aya was hiding under her plate to you ratting me out to my roommate every time you think I've thrown away a pizza crust."

"Dude, seriously though, who throws away the crust?"

Ali rose from the table, gesturing to the door with a tip of his chin. "Join me for a smoke, Jack?"

Jack grinned and followed him outside.

Mac pushed back from the table. He contemplated the mess all over the table and thought about picking up and putting things in the basin, but he knew Zahra wouldn't appreciate it. She was very protective of her kitchen. And while Mac didn't necessarily understand it, the division of labor she and Ali had seemed to work for them. He looked at the door a couple of times, then he decided to go outside with the others.

Jack and Ali were around the corner of the house. He found them by the bright cherry ends of their foul smelling cigars.

Mac leaned up against the side of the house, sliding his hands into his pockets. He glanced at Jack, his face visible in the red light of his smoke when he pulled on it.

"That is a filthy habit."

Jack chuckled. "I suppose it is."

"I thought you quit."

Jack took another pull. "Yeah. Yeah, I did. But sometimes, on an op like this…"

"Old habits. I get it." Mac sighed softly.

Ali and Jack exchanged a look and Ali tapped his cigar out on the side of the house and slid it into his pocket. "I think I hear Aya giving Zahra problems. She makes all her brothers look like angels by comparison."

When he disappeared back the way they had come, Jack stubbed out his own smoke. "How you doin', kid?"

"Better. Getting out of there was a really good call today. Not just because I don't … you know…"

"Care for the wet work side of things?

Mac shrugged. "It's not that I don't see that you're right, that it needs to be done. Anymore than I didn't see when I'd spot for you back when we met if you needed me to. It just…" He sighed. Then he made himself go on because he didn't want Jack finishing the thought for him. "Right now it brings all my own stuff up."

"I get it, Mac. I mean I think I do."

"So you got something this afternoon?"

"I did. And I'm gonna get more. Lettin' him stew in the box overnight."

"Did you pass it up the chain through Nikki?"

"She didn't call you?"

Mac shrugged like it wasn't too dark to see him. He hadn't actually thought about calling Nikki. He wasn't exactly enjoying the mission, but it being just him and Jack felt normal, like things were supposed to be. "My phone is on the charger in our room. I was having fun with the kids. Salah likes to build things and Sami likes to take them apart."

"And Aya is about two days away from callin' you Uncle Mac."

"Two days? She started that a week ago. At least I think that's what she's saying when she's not face painting," he said fondly. "I hate the way so much of the world sees people like the Omars because of … things that have nothing to do with them."

"Ali said something just like that a little while ago. And he said he's happy to help people like us who don't want to let those things tell their story."

Jack saw Mac's flash of white teeth in the dark.

"Every time we make a friend someplace new, find some kind of common ground, some understanding, we make the world a better, sort of smaller place."

"You're right about that, kid."

"You're really good at finding friendly locals on missions, man. If you ever get sick of DXS, maybe you could go all Hollywood and become a fixer."

Jack laughed. "How about a stuntman?"

"Sure. That, too."

"You're ready for this to be over."

"If we stay here much longer, I'm gonna get adopted," he said with what sounded like a very natural chuckle.

"I meant more this whole thing and less just this op, but yeah, you do seem to be on the verge of bein' a big brother."

"Of course I want this all over, Jack." He sighed. "Maybe once that bastard doesn't keep coming back for me in my dreams, I'll actually be able to get some sleep."

"We oughta be out of here by the end of the week if this goes the way I think it will."

"I wonder if I can find some better sunblock. I'm gonna shed my skin like a snake if I keep this up."

"There's not much for you out there, kid. You could just treat this as a couple days R and R, help Zahra out with the animals and the kids…"

"You don't want me coming back out there."

"You don't need to come back out there for what we're doing. And you look like you don't have a headache for the first time in a week tonight."

Mac snorted a laugh. Jack really couldn't help he, he supposed. "Alright, Overwatch, you got me. I needed a break from that place. And here is a nice place to take one."

"And?"

"And if you really think we're gonna be going home for the next leg of this mission in a few days, I guess I better take the break while it's there for the taking."

0-0-0

About ten minutes into their flight home almost a week later, Nikki's computer chimed.

It was Thornton.

"Change of plans, guys."

"What's up, Patty?" Jack asked, frowning.

"I'm rerouting you."

"Is this about O'Neil? Was our new intel bad?" Mac asked bluntly, unable to tolerate the uncertainty for another minute, say nothing about through a rerouting.

"It's not. But it is potentially about lives on the line from a terrorist threat."

"Where we headin' there, Boss Lady?" Jack asked with a sideways glance at Mac.

"Cairo," she replied.

"Cairo, like Egypt or Cairo, like Illinois?"

"What do you think, Jack?"

Jack grinned in reply. "Well, now, I was just checkin'."

"I've always wanted to go to Cairo," Mac mused, clearly doing his best not to show any disappointment that they weren't immediately headed back to the States to deal with their new lead. "When I was a little kid and I got told you couldn't be an astronaut if you had broken bones, I wanted to be an archaeologist."

"Well, now you'll get to see it," Thornton said evenly.

Nikki interrupted. "How many bones have you broken?"

Mac flashed a little smirk and shrugged. "More than one, less than ten."

Thornton went on like Nikki hadn't interrupted. "There are some protests breaking out and we think there's a terrorist group using it as a cover from something far more dangerous than a little political unrest."

"And why do we think that, Patty?" Jack asked a little sharply.

"Because some nuclear materials have gone missing. And frankly a dirty bomb in the middle of a city filled with students taking to the streets is just the sort of footage this group might like to see on the 24-hour news cycle to support their position that no one should question the lack of democratic standards in their recent election."

"Where are we looking?" Mac asked, frowning at the footage Thornton shared with growing groups of people even younger than him marching through the streets of the Egyptian capital.

"We caught some suspicious activity near the national museum during our last satellite pass. That seems like a good place to start."

Mac frowned. "What about our lead on O'Neill?"

Thornton shook her head. "We're still verifying the intel, so we can't make a move on any of it just yet. Whereas this is a credible threat, that may just need the skills of someone who can diffuse a bomb in a high stakes situation. And you can be there within the hour."

Mac nodded then. "Okay, we'll get on the ground and see what we can find. Transportation?"

"I'll have a van waiting at the airfield so Nikki can be close by blocking any surveillance or radio triggering devices. I'm sending the briefing to your tablets now."

Mac gave a curt not, and picked up his tablet, sitting back down to look over the materials as soon as the notification chimed.

Jack sat down across from him, pretending to look at his own tablet. He was actually more interested in how Mac was going to cope with getting his trip to LA to follow up on the intel Jack had wrung out of Habib and what that might mean for his decisions on any mission that got in the way.