Grove Hollow: Autumn Leaves

By

Cincoflex@aol.com

Rose felt her stomach flutter. It was not a new sensation, but it didn’t get old either, thrilling her at the same time it annoyed her. She tried to smile at Mrs. Thompson and keep her mind on the job at hand, which concerned two angelfish and a bright green aquarium stone.

“Oh they’ll look lovely in the tank with my little swordtails I think. Thank you so much dear—“

“You’re quite welcome—“ Rose tried not to hurry the old woman, but it was difficult not to scoot her out the door, fish and all. The clock was just rounding six, and the there was still so much to do before she could lock up the shop and go get ready to—

She let that thought trail off. That was the one leaving her in mild agitation, a pleasant tingle soured by doubt. For the tenth time she looked at the phone, wondering if she should call Mac and cancel, but before she could move towards it someone stepped into the shop and she glanced up.

The man was huge, bearlike, a monolith of muscle standing over six and a half feet tall. He wore his long shaggy dark hair tied back into a braid with a leather thong, and mirrored sunglasses hid his eyes. His moustache and long fluffy beard made him look like a refugee from a ZZ Top festival. A black leather vest topped his tee shirt; over his worn jeans he wore chaps also of black leather. Heavy boots thumped as he strode forward, and the faint jingle of chains combined with the creak of leather.

“I’ll have two puppy burritos, a bag of canary heads, super sized—and a diet coke,” he rumbled. Rose burst out laughing. Launching herself, she threw her arms around the man, hugging him tightly as he lifted his sunglasses to rest on the top of his head and then smiled down at her, his green eyes twinkling. He hugged her back.

“Oh GOD Newt it’s good to see you!”

“Shhhhhh don’t call me THAT—undercover Feds don’t have la di da sensitive names like Newt,” he laughed back at her, picking her up and giving the top of her head a light knucklerubbing. “Gotta call me Boris now.”

She snorted.

“Oh that’s right, Big Bad Boris infiltrating biker gangs—geez, mom must be thrilled you’re going back to your first name—“

“Yeah well, Boris is a hell of a lot more butch than Newton,” he grinned. The smile was gentle, and Rose sighed happily, snuggling against her brother for a long moment. Boris tightened his hug and then reluctantly let her go.

“Gotta tell you, BR—mom slipped.”

Rose felt the hot surge of anger rise up, and her lips tightened.

“Damn it!”

“Yeah, we’re all pretty ticked with her right now. Dad says it was inevitable, but you need to know if Ramon shows up here. And for what it’s worth, mom’s sorry.”

“Yeah, right—“ Rose groused bitterly, “She wants grandbabies. I don’t know why all the pressure has to be on ME—“

“Oh yes you do,” Boris sighed. Rose smirked again.

“Oh yeah—and so how IS life outside the closet these days?”

“Frustrating. It was bad enough when I was stuck wearing a suit and tie, but now—I’m telling you BR, outlaw bikers are the most homosexually repressed subculture I’ve ever had to work with. They all CLAIM they’re into tits, chrome and booze, but I’ve gotten groped more than a handrail at a Braille convention,” he laughed softly. Rose looked up at her big brother with keen compassion, seeing the hint of grief even now in his eyes.

“I still miss Miles too,” she whispered. It was the right thing to say, and Boris hugged her again for a long moment. When he let her go, she glanced up and started: four people were looking in the window at them. She could see Penny, Willis, a deliveryman and a little kid all peering in curiously. Boris laughed.

“Lookie Lous—I get’em all the time. Bet there are a couple of gawkers eyeballing the hog, too,” he rumbled, letting Rose go and moving to the kitten display. The bell over the door rang.

“Rose?” came a hesitant call from Willis. She felt a warmth surge through her at his concern, and she moved to open the door wider.

“Hey! Is my brother’s motorcycle blocking the sidewalk? Sometimes he forgets folks need to get around that thing—“

“So this is your brother?” the relief in Willis’s voice was obvious; Rose didn’t hide her grin as she ushered the group in to meet Boris. The deliveryman cleared his throat and turned his attention to her as Penny and Willis chatted behind him.

“Um, flowers for you?”

“Oh? Rose eyed the box suspiciously, and pulled the lid off. Nestled in the green tissue lay a long-stemmed American Beauty along with a tiny envelope. Rose sighed harshly. With one sweeping gesture she ripped the head off the rose, letting the richly scented petals flutter across her counter. Startled, everyone in the shop watched her.

“Not in the mood for flowers?” Penny ventured. Rose lifted her chin, meeting her brother’s knowing gaze.

“Not from that devious, disgusting—“

She torn open the tiny envelope and glanced at the note as she prepared to shred it—

With Deepest Sympathy--for keeping you out so late—but I’d do it again in a heartbeat, Brat! M.

--And gulped. The hapless dead rose lay in its tissue coffin, crimson petals like drops of blood around it. Rose paled, eyes wide. Guiltily she looked out the window towards the hardware store as Penny ran a finger along the edge of the tissue.

“Wow, and it was from Giordano’s too—they have the BEST bouquets—“

“Yes, well—“ Rose snatched up the box and carried it out to the back room in a hurry. Once there the prickle of tears hit hard, and she looked at the wounded bloom, bringing it up to her lips. After a second of mourning, she tenderly peeled the rest of the petals, dropping them in one of the tiny glass bowls she kept for Beta fish and wiped her eyes. The card went on top of them, and then she stepped out again.

“You okay?” Boris rumbled under his breath, concerned. She nodded.

“I made a mistake—“ she admitted with sickly smile, “But it’s okay. It wasn’t from you know who.”

Penny had a bag of cat litter and two little tubs of gourmet liver treats on the counter; Wills and the child were outside looking at the motorcycle. Boris patted his sister’s shoulder heavily.

“It happens. Listen, I can’t stay long, but I’ve got an hour or two before I have to get back. Stake you to some grub—“

Rose looked stricken as she rang Penny up and bagged the supplies.

“I uh—yeah, that would be fine. Let me make a call first—“

“Rose—“ sensing the shift in plans, Boris frowned a little.

“No, it’s okay,” she protested, “He’ll understand.”

“He? Already with a HE in the works?” came the tease. Unnoticed by either of them, Penny left as Rose reached up to punch her brother’s shoulder in exasperation.

The minute she entered the diner, Mac looked at Penny expectantly from his seat at one of the booths. She gave him a troubled glance and set her bag on the tabletop between them.

“Well?”

Penny slid into the booth unhappily.

“Um, yeah, she got your delivery all right. Hey, did you see that really big guy in there? That’s her brother, Boris, and he’s a biker from upstate I think. They sure don’t look alike—“ she prattled on desperately.

“—Penny—“ Mac interrupted, trying not to vent his frustration. She met his eyes and sighed. He looked so vulnerable. So hopeful.

“She—ripped it up. But I think it was an accident, unless she meant that YOU were disgusting and devious—Mac?”

MacGyver’s eyes widened and his brows went up into his shaggy bangs. He glanced through the diner window towards the pet shop in a stunned daze as Rose and Boris locked it up and walked down the street. Penny gently patted his arm.

“See, she read the card AFTER she massacred the flower and I could tell she was really upset by what she had done, Mac. You can’t fake that kind of reaction, you know?”

“Ripped it up?” His expression was so comically woebegone that Penny had to glance away to avoid giggling. Her pats on his arm grew stronger.

“Believe me MacGyver, both Willis and I were watching and I’m pretty sure she thought the rose was from someone else, someone she doesn’t like.”

“Just ripped--?”

“Mac!” Impatiently Penny jostled his elbow and scowled. He sighed scrubbing his face with his hands.

“Okay, okay—but then again, she COULD have meant it too. I don’t GET it, Penny. Why do women have to be so---complicated?”

She smiled at that and leaned back against the red vinyl booth, studying Mac’s handsome albeit anguished face.

“Because we LIKE to be—“ she admitted with a throaty chuckle.

MACGYVER’S JOURNAL

Insight is the rare element that brings events and emotions into focus—at least that was always my mom’s definition of the trait. I suppose that for someone like me, it’s seeing the difference between night and day. At night, like the one two days ago, my relationship with Rose was fairly direct. My lips to hers, her tongue to mine, heat and desire. And between us this connection of sorts above and beyond the physical. A ripe and fruitful friendship.

It’s in the daylight that things get muddled and confused. Am I her friend who kissed her, or her lover who hasn’t loved her yet? Are we dating? Do I risk losing it all to gain even more, or sit back and see what happens?

Insight is NOT helping any of this.

So I went the tried and true route of cliché and sent a flower, only to have even THAT gesture take a bizarre route ending in true fiasco. Either my timing sucks, or Rose is feeling as bipolar about this relationship as I am.

And yet—the minute I have her in my arms, within touch, within whispering, it’s perfect. She fits to me like a missing half I didn’t know about until
she presses against me, warm and solid and sweet.

Maybe I should have sent chocolate instead.

*** *** ***

Rose peeked into the doorway of the Curl Up and Dye, looking around. Behind her, Boris hung back, amused.

“Come on BR--Don’t you have a barber shop in town? Yeah I want a shave, but I don’t see it happening in HERE—“

“Au contraire, I shave a LOT of things here—“ Sebastian strode over, sardonic smile on his face. He glanced up at Boris and the smile deepened for a moment as he crossed his arms and leaned on one hip. For a moment they locked gazes.

“You ARE a big one, aren’t you?”

“As big as they come,” Boris rumbled, looking back at him. Rose shot a curious look at her brother; something in his tone was almost—

She dismissed the thought, chiding herself for it. Boris was always a bit of a flirt, and if anyone could handle that it would be Sebastian.

“Boris, this is Sebastian Murdoc, and he wields a mean pair of scissors. Sebastian, this is my brother, Boris.”

“Boris—“ Sebastian gave a nod. “Yes, well he certainly looks Badenov—“

“Witty. Think that up yourself, did you?” Boris sighed. Sebastian waved an imperious hand, beckoning them in. The shop was almost empty, with only a single old lady half-asleep under a dryer.

“Oh stop bemoaning my feeble pun and sit down. What are we doing to you today, darling?”

“Darling?” Boris shot a suspicious sidelong glance at Sebastian who was looking at Rose. She shrugged.

“Less Amish Farmer, more—I dunno—“

“Noble Viking? Clean chin, long Fu Manchu mustache sort of thing?” Sebastian offered as he circled around Boris and studied his features intently.

Boris nodded, allowing the other man to drape him and gently pull his long hair back.

“Lovely mane, really—I see hints of the auburn your sister’s blessed with—“

“Thanks—“ Boris shot a look at Rose, who missed it completely. She was staring out the window into the soft blue twilight towards a diner across the street. All along Fairhaven the streetlights were coming on, and they cast circles of ghostly light along the sidewalks. Rose leaned in the doorway, starting when her brother called a little louder.

“Hey! Listen, this is gonna take some time, BR, so if you’d wanna go grab a soda or something—“

“—And I happen to know the ‘or something’ is probably on his usual stool over there right now—“ Murdoc broke in sweetly. Rose blushed; Boris rumbled a little until Murdoc laid a hand on his shoulder.

“Now now, my pseudo biker, you’ve got to let her go—trust me, I know all about little sisters—“

“Pseudo—what the hell are you talking about?”

“Here—“ with a swift tilt, Murdoc angled the chair back so that Boris was reclining and glaring up at him. “We need to talk, Handsome, and from the look on Rose’s face I suspect she needs that soda more than you know. Rose, we’ll be finished here in about half an hour—“

“Boris?”

“Go on—Boy Toy here and I need to chat—“ her brother growled reluctantly. Rose sighed and squared her shoulders before walking out and crossing the road.

Sebastian laid a warm hand on Boris’s mouth for a moment.

“First let me get old Mrs. O’Neill out of here—“ he muttered in a low tone. “Lovely woman, but a bit of a gossip. Won’t be a second—“

As good as his word, Murdoc finished styling the matron’s hair and ushered her out, complimenting her outrageously all the way to the door. Once she was gone, he flipped the sign on the door and sighed. Boris waited as Sebastian shook his head slowly.

“As first impressions go it’s good, I grant you that, Boris, or whatever your REAL name is, but screwing up the little things is going to land you right on that muscled ass of yours.”

“Been around a lot of bikers?” Boris commented dryly, shifting in the chair. Sebastian gave a slow smile.

“Under and over a few,” he confessed, walking back towards the big man. “But let’s face it, not many of them wear colored contacts. Women don them for vanity, but men who do are merely trying to change their appearance. So I have to ask myself, why would a biker go to all the trouble of giving himself bright green eyes? They’re not corrective lenses, not by the curve of them.”

Boris said nothing, but his hands shifted over the drape, flexing. Sebastian glanced at them.

“—And there’s the matter of your hands, of course.”

“What about them?” more curious than annoyed, Boris raised one big paw; his death’s head ring with its ruby eyes winking in the light. Sebastian swiftly slid his fingers over it in a light caress, making Boris quiver ever so slightly.

“Callused, rough and strong, granted, but your nails are too damn clean. No grease, no embedded dirt lingering under them. These are the hands of a man familiar with soap and water, darling.”

“You know, if you don’t stop calling me darling, I may have to throttle you, Sherlock—“ came the low threat. Sebastian looked down into Boris’s face and laughed.

“And those teeth! All there, brushed and white, not a gold cap or missing one in the bunch. Bikers don’t brush, Boris. They smoke like crematoriums, they pride themselves on their missing dentalwork, and they reek of tobacco, alcohol or exotic pharmacopoeia. You DON’T.”

For a long moment, Boris merely glared up at the man laughing at him. Then he let loose with a string of profanity as Sebastian stood back and let him rant on. By the time Boris was winding down, Sebastian had a pair of scissors in hand and a wicked smile across his knowing mouth.

“Done?”

“Almost. All right, you make some valid points and I guess I have been lucky that no body ELSE seems to have been as observant as you.”

Sebastian had deftly chopped the beard down to fine stubble along Boris’s chin and jaw. He sighed, flicking handfuls of hair away to the floor.

“There was a lot to observe—obviously Mama Clowderbock fed you well.”

“Are you saying I’m fat?”

“No, I’m saying you’re BIG, darling. And like your sister, you’re a hell of a temptation, so don’t pout and ruin my concentration.”

“Jesus, do you always come onto people so quickly?” Boris clenched his teeth while Sebastian lathered him. The fact that the man was pretty much doing it to his libido as well as his chin was disconcerting to say the least.

“Part of the job requirements, love. Now hold still and let me do this right—“ So saying, Sebastian carefully and expertly drew the double edge along Boris’s chin in long slow strokes, stopping to rinse out the blades between applications. His touch was firm and professional, and despite his initial misgivings Boris relaxed into the shave.

“You’re good.”

“So I’ve been told. Ah, a slight cleft to this manly chin, I thought as much—“ Sebastian murmured. When the shave was done he carefully washed off Boris’s chin and began to trim the mustache. This brought their faces quite close; Boris closed his eyes in self-defense. Sebastian smelled good, and his gentle touch was enough to send little electric tingles through his system. Neither spoke for a while, but the tension between them grew. Finally Boris risked a peek. He opened his eyes only to find Sebastian staring at him, a smirk on his lean face.

“Oh damn! And I thought I’d get to kiss the Sleeping Biker—“

“Don’t let ME stop you—“ Boris blurted without thinking. Sebastian arched an eyebrow, but the rapid flutter of his pulse along his throat betrayed his nervousness. He hesitated. Boris sighed harshly and the moment was lost.

“Hey, ignore me, okay? I’m running on too much coffee and too little sleep, and it’s really not my habit to—“ He stopped when Sebastian pressed a finger onto his lips, silencing him. With quick gentle movements, he plucked the drape off of Boris and brushed stray hair off his customer’s neck.

“This is a small town, handsome, and although I have a reputation for dabbling in mixed singles, I’m not about to draw undue attention to YOU. Whatever you’re doing is probably important, and now isn’t the time to get side tracked, am I right?”

Boris nodded, slowly rising from the chair and towering over Sebastian who gave a gusty sigh of appreciation.

“Stop looking at me like I’m a three course meal,” he grumbled, flattered and fighting it. Sebastian began to brush past him.

“Ships that pass in the night—oh what I would have given to dock in your berth—“ came the strained chuckle. Reaching out, Boris caught the other man’s shoulder and lightly spun him around until they were facing each other, their reflections echoed in the mirrors and glass all along the walls. Bruno bent down and spoke lightly into Sebastian’s face.

“Oh I’ll be coming back to this harbor again, Sebastian, and even though it’s because Rose needs someone to keep an eye on her, I think I might have to stop in here as well.”

Sebastian’s expression shifted; for a moment, instead of merely looking wistful, a flash of vulnerable hope crossed his aquiline features and he smiled.

“I’d like that, darling—you don’t know how much I’d like that.”

Boris smiled, reaching out to lightly cup the other man’s cheek in a gentle caress.

Rose drew a deep breath as she stepped through the door of diner, feeling as if everyone was staring at her. They weren’t, of course, but she still hunched her shoulders and kept her own gaze on the black and white checkered tile of the floor. A familiar voice brought her attention up and she blushed.

“Over here—“

Looking right and left first, she reluctantly slid into the booth and faced Mac. Or rather, didn’t face him since she chose to study the fascinating tabletop between them, keeping her gaze there.

“Hungry?”

“No—I tried to call you, but you weren’t in—“

“I turn my pager off during my dinner hour.”

“Oh.” Rose finally looked up to his face. Mac’s expression lingered between an odd blend of amusement and chagrin; seeing it Rose knew that HE knew about the flower.

“Oh God—“

“So?”

Rose gulped and plunged on. “My brother came to tell me Ramon knows I’m here. I thought it was from him. Ramon that is, not my brother. Newt—I mean Boris wouldn’t send me flowers but when I read the card I saw it wasn’t Ramon but you and I’m REALLY really really sorry Mac—“

MacGyver cocked his head and stared at her; the very intensity of his gaze reached deep within Rose like a warm gentle hand.

“I know.”

“HOW do you know?” she asked curiously. Mac lifted his chin but didn’t answer. Instead, he looked out through the window towards the Curl Up and Dye across the dark street. Dimly through the distant window the figures of Sebastian and Boris could be seen. Rose brightened.

“That’s Boris. My brother.”

“Geez, he’s about a foot and a half taller than you!”

“He’s like dad—my mom and I are the same height.”

Mac watched the big man lumber across the street towards the diner getting bigger by the moment. When he came through the door he ducked and looked around as everyone in the diner stared up at him. Even Harry had to tilt his head up.

“Evenin,” Harry offered cautiously.

“Evening,” Boris rumbled back, a faint smile on his face. He caught sight of Rose and headed her way, sliding into the booth next to her. His weight sank into the cushion and in reaction, his sister beside him rose up a few inches. She giggled. Boris extended a big paw towards Mac and smiled.

“Boris Clowderbock.”

“MacGyver.”

They took the measure of each other and both relaxed, glancing at the same time to Rose. She grinned back.

“You look better without the beard, you really do. Sebastian did a good job.”

Boris rubbed his chin, a little smile crossing his face, but he made no comment. Mac looked over at Lucy, who timidly came over.

“Ready to order?”

“Rose?” Mac asked gently. She nodded.

“The blue plate special—isn’t it meat loaf today?” At that, Boris sighed deeply and happily.

“Oh man, yeah! If you tell me it comes with mashed potatoes and green beans I’ll be SET!”

“You’re in luck then,” Mac replied. “—And save room for dessert.”

*** *** ***

MACGYVER’S JOURNAL

Met Rose’s brother today. He’s big fellow, a biker I guess but seemingly a nice guy just the same. I can see some resemblance to Rose, especially in the shape of their faces. It’s obvious that he’s pretty protective of his kid sister since he came into town to warn her about her ex-fiancee. That makes me worry a little about Rose’s broken engagement—I mean, if a six foot plus brother stops by to warn her, what does that say about the ex?

Thoughts like that made the whole flower thing seem a little silly in hindsight—from her face I could see it was an accident, and I can’t stay upset with her, especially when she shoots me those little pleading looks. I’m almost as much of a sucker for her as I am for Houdini. In truth, there’s nothing to forgive, and everything to gain when she smiles.

*** *** ***

“So this is YOUR place—“ Rose murmured, looking around. The hot little spark Mac’s proximity created in her was there, in the pit of her stomach, warm and tingly. To counter it, she looked around the room, taking in the layout of the place.

It was a snug studio of an apartment, with a few transom windows and a long rectangular floor plan. Mac had converted the chemical storage bay into a snug kitchenette, complete with stone floor and eyewash sink. In the middle of the room was a light maple table with three ongoing projects scattered on top of it. A doorway led to a bathroom and just beyond a living room sofa a thickly beaded curtain screened off an area with a large bed on a cast iron frame. Rose noted it, and tried hard not to stare; she turned her attention to the table instead.

“Building something?”

“Sort of. Tess Pelham wanted me to fix her hairdryer, and Pete told me to set up part of dimmer switch display for the store. Over here I’ve been working on a new kind of caulking mix, and that—“ he paused, looking at a soft green mess on a plate, “—That’s my hummus dip from two weeks ago. Yechhh.”

Rose laughed. She slipped into the bathroom as Mac carried his ancient food out to the garbage disposal. By the time they’d each returned, they met just beyond the light of the living room lamp by the sofa. Mac scooped her into his arms.

“Oh hello—“ he chuckled into her ear; his enfolding arms sliding around her easily. Rose smiled up at him, surging up on tiptoe for a kiss. It was a sweet, light thing, a brush of welcome. Mac took it gently.

“So—Boris is on the road again, Barnum is guarding the bungalow, and we’re plunking down in front of the TV?”

Rose nodded. A night of TV sounded good. A night curled up on the sofa with Mac sounded even better and judging by the playful twinkle in his eyes he seemed to think so too.

“But I don’t want to stay too late, even if tomorrow IS Sunday. You deserve a chance to sleep in at least ONCE in the week.”

“To be honest, Rose, I’ve dropped off right on this sofa more times than I like to admit.”

“I could see that,” she laughed. Mac made a face and flopped onto the off white cushions, patting the one next to him invitingly. Rose hesitated a second, then bounced over, tumbling onto the sofa and kicking off her sneakers. Mac reached for the remote then settled back.

After switching through a few stations, they finally settled on an episode of the Simpsons, chuckling through it. Rose took the initiative and snuggled into Mac, pulling his arm around her with deliberation. He smiled down at her move.

“Feeling bossy?”

“Taking advantage of your body heat,” she replied with happy sigh. They stayed like that for the rest of the show, and when it was over Mac glanced at her.

“You pick something to watch and I’ll get us something to eat. I have something I’d love to try out on you.”

Rose’s eyes widened a little; both his tone and his words were sweetly suggestive. She gave a little nod and watched Mac head for his kitchen, bare-foot and slightly rumpled, clearly a man comfortable in his environment. The moment he was out of sight, she reached up and undid three buttons on her blouse, letting it gape open enough to reveal the top of her bra. Then she took the remote and began sailing through the channels, only half-aware of what they showed.

The tingle was stronger, she knew. Mac’s very presence set it off, and little things, like the sight of his bare feet, or his warm masculine scent merely magnified it Sometimes the tingle was in her mouth, and sometimes it was through her chest, but most often it was wriggling around between her thighs, a hot spark of excitement that couldn’t seem to be quenched.

“Found anything you like?” he called from the kitchen. Guiltily Rose bit back a giggle. Oh yes, there was plenty she liked, but it wasn’t on TV. She made a frustrated grunt.

“There’s a documentary on Hammerhead sharks—“

Mac came out of the kitchen carrying two bowls and smiling shyly.

“Ice cream. Made it myself.”

Interested in this development, Rose sat up eagerly to peer at the bowls. Mac, stunned, looked down at her and wobbled his grip as her blouse strained open, revealing a lovely peek of a powder blue bra barely restraining her bouncy chest. Rose missed his expression though as she reached for one of the bowls.

“Looks good!”

Mac couldn’t agree more, and sat down before the sudden shift of blood in his body made him dizzy. He dragged his glance up to her face.

“Ch-chocolate cherry with bits of brownie,” he managed as he handed her a serving. She took it, stuck a finger into the bowl and swirled it around. Once it was coated, she popped it into her mouth and made ecstatic squeaky noises of greedy delight.

Mac bit back a moan. The imagery was like a flamethrower on his libido: half-undressed Rose, lips wrapped around a finger, sucking happily.

“So--?” he scrambled desperately for a normal tone and failed, “—Like it?”

Watching her lap at her finger seemed to indicate she did. Oh yes, definitely.

“It’s excellent! Did you bake the brownies yourself?” she purred, smiling at him. Mac shook his head.

“Lucy’s the baker—I just got the other ingredients—milk, eggs, chocolate and cherries.”

“Wow--spoon?”

Silently he handed her one and they each dug into their ice cream. Mac was grateful for the chill as Rose made her little throaty moan again.

“I gotta cherry!” she told him gleefully through a mouthful. Mac blushed, but tried to look nonchalant.

“Maraschino—I blended some of the juice in too—oops—“

A spoonful landed on his denim-clad thigh. Rose snorted.

“Lucky you missed the couch!”

“Sorry, I got distracted,” Mac admitted with exaggerated dignity and little glances at her chest as he wiped up the mess. She looked down and squeaked.

“It wasn’t supposed to pop open THAT wide!” she blurted, flushing bright red. At that little confession, Mac laughed, throwing his head back in genuine amusement as Rose fumbled with her shirt. Mac quickly took both bowls and set them on the coffee table, then cupped Rose’s face in his hands, which were cool from the ice cream.

“YOU are very, very cute. Did you know that?” he smiled into her face, lips brushing against hers in a slow tickle as he spoke. Rose’s eyes closed and she swallowed hard.

“So are YOU—“ came her accusing gulp. Mac rubbed his nose on hers, their breath mingling in a warm sweet chocolate scent. He began to lean back, bringing Rose with him. The cushions creaked slightly.

“I mean REALLY cute. Verging on adorable. Looking at you I get hungry.”

Rose liked the sound of that, aware that if he was choosing her over ice cream it had to be a GOOD thing, so she kissed him, draping herself over his chest, letting her mouth take his with fumbling eagerness.

Mac sighed, drinking her in. The warm weight of her on his chest, the hot flick of her little tongue against his was a massive power surge. The temperature on the sofa was going up, and it wasn’t alone. Then Rose wriggled.

God!

That erotic little roll of her hips, right up against him, teasing and urgent made him actually gurgle for a second, flailing for control like a fifteen year old. Rose sensed his distress and pushed up on her hands to look down into his face.

“Mac? Are you okay?”

He blinked, rapidly, taking in the new and amazing sight now on full display for him. Rose cocked her head.

Her long curly hair framed her face and shoulders, and her expression concerned. However, Mac’s attention was drawn to the smooth slope of her shoulders, the hollows at the base of her throat, the swell of her magnificent chest barely restrained by the blue bra and flattened against his—

He throbbed.

He simply couldn’t help it and Rose wriggled again closing her eyes and tossing her hair back. Both of them groaned in a soft little duet. Mac’s hands slid down her neck to cup her shoulders; they longed to cup elsewhere, but he was just too distracted by ALL of the sensory input flooding through his system.

“Whoooooo!” Rose broke off the latest kiss with a hot, dazed giggle. A strand of her hair brushed over his cheek, and Mac wiggled his nose, grinning up at her.

“Completely—“ he agreed. Rose worked her hands up and busily began undoing his shirt buttons while Mac watched, his breathing going a little faster.

“Hey!”

“Hey—I’ve SEEN you eat. Don’t want to spill any ice cream on this shirt do you?”

His eyes widened, and Rose managed to get the entire shirt undone before he hoarsely demanded,

“You are NOT going to glob ice cream on me, Brat! No!”

“I won’t if you don’t wiggle—“ she pointed out patiently, reaching for a spoon and waving it between them. He made a scoffing sound, but his mahogany eyes were full of wicked challenge. Rose arched an eyebrow.

“If I spill—“

“—You HAVE to clean it up—that’s the rule.”

Deliberately she turned the spoon, the melted cocoa blob drip onto the middle of his chest.

“Ooops.”

He jumped.

“Ahhhhh that’s COLD!” He yelped. Then Rose dropped her lips onto his chest and Mac bit his lower lip, his body arching up helplessly as Rose leisurely lapped at his chest. Her tongue slurped the wet fur clean and then wandered to a brown nipple, flicking over its rivet-like hardness, making Mac groan. Tenderly she nibbled at it, leaving him wondering dimly through the lust, when his chest had gotten hotwired to his groin. Mac’s hands finally clued in and slid to cradle the rounded sides of her breasts. Rose lifted her head, looking flushed.

“Am I crushing you?”

“Ah, no—“ Mac replied, startled. Rose began to pull up and away from the sensual rub of their bared stomachs. Mac felt a little growl of protest starting in the back of his throat.

“Sorry, part of the trouble of being a little top-heavy—“

“Wait a minute—“ He argued, “You’re fine! I LIKE you here, trust me! If you take a moment I think you’re going to notice how MUCH I like your, ah, attributes.”

She looked at him, slightly perplexed, the soft flush of arousal and good-humor crossing her face.

“You can’t mean my calabasas!”

Now it was Mac’s turn to look at a loss; his hands however had no confusion at all, and happily cupped Rose’s chest, making it bulge over the top of the bra enticingly.

“Your--?”

Rose blushed and looked away.

“Pumpkins. That means pumpkins in Spanish.”

Something in her voice, a small note of embarrassment and pain hit a tender point deep within Mac, and he drew in a breath. He reached and tugged the bra down, letting her breasts spill over against him, warm and heavy and sweet.

“Rose—“ he managed in a husky voice, “I am on the verge of a very personal sort of—accident--here because of what I’m seeing.”

“W-what?” She seemed dazed, eyelids fluttering as Mac’s hands continued to stroke her breasts, fingertips tracing the sleek contour of curves. His stomach tightened, and he moved to sit up again as he continued to speak.

“Oh yeah—I hate to tell you this, but I’ve been DYING to see you without a shirt. I know, it’s not a nice thing to admit, but it’s true, Brat.”

Slowly he pushed back up to a sitting position, shifting both of their bodies. Rose clung to his shoulders under his open shirt as Mac gently loomed over her, forcing her onto her back on her end of the sofa.

“I want to kiss you from your mouth ALL the way down—“ He sighed gustily into her face, eyes searching hers. “—Please?”

She held her breath, suddenly acutely aware of everything in a moment of clarity: the drone of the television, the taste of chocolate on her lips, the sweet, sweet weight of Mac resting lightly on her tense stomach, and lingering over it, the mingled musk of arousal, hers and his, blending so well she couldn’t tell them apart. Mac’s eyes were dark, like charred wood. The little quivers of tension twanged along his arms propping him over her and as he nervously chewed his lip, Rose could feel her nipples aching.

“Yes.”

He closed his eyes for a second, a pang of gratitude crossing his face and it made her suddenly bold. With a squirm Rose began to tug her bra off. Mac shook his head, reaching for her straps with gentle fingers.

“Hey, according to the official rules of making out, that’s MY job. Yours is to squeal and moan and tell me I’m incredibly handsome.”

“There are RULES?” she demanded, confused. Mac laughed, low and sexy as he flicked the strap down and kissed the luscious muscles of her throat.

“Oh yeah—we’re almost up to the dirty talk phase.”

“You’re making this UP—“ Rose gasped, arching to give him better access. One of his hands was lightly tickling the underside of her breast, tracing maddening little patterns on her goose bump covered skin.

“You have a fabulous rack, Brat. Completely stunning—“ so saying, MacGyver pressed a trail of hot damp kisses down the front of her shoulder, his bangs brushing bare skin. She whimpered.

“It’s—big.”

“It’s perfect. Right now I’m thinking about licking melted ice cream off these beauties—“ he groaned in a way that made Rose wriggle madly. Mac hissed.

“Don’t! God, Rose if you do that, I might come right now, and I don’t think that’s a good idea—“

“Ohhhh—“ she groaned back, flushing hot and cold as his fingers circled her firm nipples. A second later the hot suck of his mouth on one sent her into another hard wriggle. She felt drunk with desire, hot need pounding with her pulse as Mac’s tongue slid in a deliberate caress down the slope and across her chest to the other nipple.

“God that’s GOOD—“ Rose couldn’t quite keep the surprise out of her voice, and when Mac’s teeth ever so slightly closed on the hard flesh of the other nipple hot rolling waves of desire ran down the length of her stomach to crash between her thighs.

“Dirty talk—“ he whispered against the satin of her flesh. Rose managed a sob of a giggle.

“I-I—“

“I have hot tits. Go on, say it—“ he demanded, licking with renewed vigor. Each tongue swipe ran over her nipples and circled under the full curve of sensitive slope. Rose arched again, fighting the wriggle and losing.

“Mac—“

“You DO, Rose. They’re a pair of big sexy tasty tits and I LOVE kissing them!”

His sincerity stunned her, and Rose reached a hand up to his hair, pulling his face up from her chest enough to look him in the eye. Mac reluctantly let her, although he managed to rub his chin across her nipple.

“You LIKE them?”

“Love them. Definitely have plans for them. Want to get BACK to them, PLEASE?”

With another choky sob she nodded as her arms wound around his neck and shoulders, surrendering to his caresses. Rose shifted a little, her hips moving against his; their full body contact thrilled her.

“Mac, you’re hard—“ came her blunt observation. He moved to snort slightly between her breasts.

“Rose, I’ve BEEN that way since you leaned over my table—“

“Doesn’t it—hurt?”

“Ungh, not when you MOVE like that!”

‘No, No, I mean—God, we have to TALK—“ Rose insisted, pushing on his shoulder even as the rest of her body protested. Apparently her chest was pouting and even her hips were feeling a little rebellious. Mac gave a heart-wrenching groan and sat up, his mouth twisted in a wry grin.

“Ooooh, THIS is a sight burning into my retinas—“ he croaked, looking down at Rose, who lay sprawled on his sofa, bare-chested, lips parted and panting slightly. She sat up, pulling herself horizontal with a hand from Mac, who ran the other through his hair, tousling it.

“I’m sorry—“ he kissed her temple, “I got hit with a bad case of wanting you and got carried away. Don’t worry, you’re safe. You’ll always be safe with me.”

She believed him. It hit her hard how easily she trusted Mac to keep his word; that that alone shifted her train of thought. Taking a deep breath, Rose deliberately slid her hand up his warm thigh, moving from their strong muscles to the clearly defined ridge between his hips. Mac watched the progress of her hand with widened eyes. She lightly rubbed a finger along the length of it and was rewarded with a definite throb. Mac wheezed a little.

“Um, Rose—“ he warned, embarrassed even as his head dropped back a little in pleasure. She cleared her throat a little and said,

“I want to take care of that.”

Shocked, Mac’s gurgled again, sounds that weren’t quite words choking in his throat. Rose looked at him and smiled.

“I can DO that. I’m pretty good at it, and you can trust ME. Please, Mac?”

He was still too stunned to react, so Rose took charge. With a soft push, she shoved him back on the sofa and reached for his fly. Mac fought for balance, but in the course of that struggle missed the moment when Rose undid his fly and tugged the edges of his jeans apart with alacrity. Released and defiant, his thick shaft surge free as her fingers encircled it.

“Wow.”

Struggling to sit up, his elbows behind him, Mac moaned both in mortification and lust as Rose’s eyes went wide.

“R-Rose—“ He began as the savage internal battle of his common sense and his sex drive raged on. Rose’s fingers, warm and tender, caressed him and he shuddered.

“I don’t know if I can get all this in my mouth or not—“ she worried, making Mac groan very loudly. But before he could protest, argue, even take his next breath, Rose brushed her hair back and dropped her lips onto him in one smooth wet slide.

Mac tensed instantly, from head to toe, his entire body one long hot sexual spasm. The long simmer of his arousal burst into hot full boil, and his hips hunched upward, driving desperately against the grip of Rose’s hands. He cried out.

“AhhhGod!”

Rose’s grip made a constricting ring at the base of his shaft, holding his orgasm at bay as she toyed with the steely length of him, nibbling, kissing, licking with a kitten-like eagerness. Mac’s vision glazed over as magnificent surges of broiling pleasure raced through his stomach and thighs. He panted; his hips rocked with her kisses. She gave a happy moan, and suddenly loosened her grip.

“RoseRoseROSE—“

Hard and full, his orgasm rocketed through him, a searing wave of toe-clenching pleasure that went on and on and on as he arched up again and again. When he slackened, dropping heavily on the sofa once more he reached blindly for Rose, dragging her up the length of his body and planting kisses everywhere he could reach. She spluttered and laughed, squirming away.

“Need a drink—you don’t want to taste yourself—“

“Like hell I don’t—“ Deliberately he thrust his tongue deep into her mouth, gliding it over hers in the slightly bitter flavor of his semen that coated her lips. She struggled a moment, but Mac was determined, and with a sigh she gave into his questing kiss. When they broke off wetly he groaned.

“I can’t believe you DID that—“ came his low, amazed voice. “Honest to Pete—“

“I liked it—“ Rose confessed with a shy shrug of her shoulders. “I’d been THINKING about it since—well, for a long time now.”

Mac grinned, his dimples deep.

“Wow. I’ve been lusted after—I feel so—“

“—Used?”

“--Lucky!”

They both burst out laughing, and Mac tightened his grip around her pulling her face into his shoulder for a long restful moment. He stroked her hair, sighing happily.

“Rose—“ Mac began softly. The warm lassitude of release gave him a wonderful sense of relaxation, but he couldn’t sleep yet. Not yet.

“Mmmm?” she stirred a little restlessly, nuzzling under his chin. Mac’s hands stroked her back, sliding comfortably along the bare skin barely covered by her unbuttoned shirt.

“Mutuality time—“ he smiled into the crown of her head. “I want to see you—“

“You’re ALREADY seeing me.” This was muffled against his shoulder, her mouth warm and ticklish. Mac laughed in a lazy way.

“Yes. True. But I was thinking about the immediate future, and SEEING in the sense of your BODY, Brat.”

Mac felt her stiffen slightly, an unmistakable tensing along her curves; acting quickly he added in a low self-conscious tone,

“Considering how you’ve just seen the most intimate element of MINE—“

“Mac, I don’t want to be a spoilsport, but what about—um, birth control?”

A flush rolled up his face, but he managed a light tone.

“Well, right now I’m out—but I can add it to my shopping list this week—“ he ended on a hopeful note. Rose raised her head to look him in the eye, almost nose to nose, her face unreadable.

“So what you’re saying is that you never INTENDED to seduce me, or that you assumed I’D—have something.” Her words came out cold and flat, mashing down a degree of pain she couldn’t hide from him. Mac felt his chest lurch at her words.

“Hey, HEY! That’s not it at ALL! Rose, listen to me—“ he shifted on the sofa, horribly aware of his half-undressed state, of the tremble of her lower lip as she looked away from him. With exaggerated care Mac carefully cupped her chin and made her meet his eyes.

“I invited you here tonight to watch TV. I didn’t INTEND for things between us to get quite THIS far, but I won’t lie and say I’m sorry about it either. And I don’t have any condoms because—“ he gave a little wince, “--I used the last three I had as ballast for Harry’s deli case.”

That last part sounded so peculiar that Rose blinked, curiosity momentarily overwhelming her other emotions. Mac gave a wry smile and a sigh.

“The little freezer case on the left of the register, the one with the ice cream? It shifts around if it isn’t weighted down under its hollow bottom,” he explained. “What Harry needs one of those five pound flat plates from a barbell set, but he didn’t have one, so I told him a few pounds of ice would work too—trouble is, even in the average plastic bag ice melts, and would short-circuit the thing. So I filled up the condoms—“ Rose started giggling and Mac added quickly, “—WITH WATER, and let them freeze. Now they anchor it down fairly well.”

Rose’s giggles hadn’t stopped, and Mac rolled his eyes, grinning despite himself. At the time it seemed like a quick, practical fix to a problem. In hindsight, condom icebags DID seem a little—funny. She shook her head slightly.

“So you just stuck them on the faucet and f-filled them up? Like big old water balloons?” Apparently this image was too much for her and she broke up again. Mac snickered, wiping a hand over his eyes, giving up his attempt to be serious for the moment.

“Yes I did, okay? By law all condoms marketed in the US are required to have a certain tensile strength and capacity—“

It was too much, and Rose’s giggles turning into a full howl of laughter as Mac joined her. She grew very pink in the face and managed to choke out,

“B-because you used water—d-did you get the kind with reservoir tips?”

That set them both off again, and it was a very long time until they managed to settle down. Rose brushed her hair out of her face and sighed happily.

“Oooh it’s been a LONG time since I got a case of the giggles like that!”

Mac made a low cheerful noise of agreement, feeling a marvelous sense of comfort in the moment. He gently slid a hand around Rose’s waist, stroking her warm skin.

“Okay—now back to my point about equity, Brat. After all, you have given me—“ At a loss to actually verbalize it, Mac blushed. Rose didn’t help at ALL when she smiled naughtily and licked her lips. He closed his eyes.

“Come on Mac, you can SAY it---“ she urged. He lifted his chin.

“—An orgasm unparalleled in the history of my sex life, with or without a partner—“ he blurted. Rose rolled her eyes.

“That’s the clean cut description I guess---“

“And SO it’s only fair that I---“ he paused again, looking at her with a shy seductiveness that made her squirm a bit.

“—You?” she prompted uneasily, “Listen, it’s all right, Mac. No rush, you know? I like being here, and the kissing is wonderful—“

“Yeah. But I want to SEE you—“ MacGyver persisted gently, “All of you.”

Rose chewed her lip nervously. Taking shameless advantage of that, Mac nuzzled her nearest breast, rubbing the hardening nipple with his nose playfully. She whimpered.

“Mac, We can’t—you know, DO anything. Not without birth control.”

“Actually we can do a lot—but we’re not going to make love in the full and proper sense. That I can promise.”

He meant his tone to be straightforward, but it held a husky note of honest regret that Rose instantly trusted; Mac would keep his word no matter what. She pursed her lips.

“Well okay—but—I have a scar—“ she blurted, rolling away from him. Mac pressed himself to her back, nestling his face in the soft join of her neck and shoulder.

“Me too—lots of them. I fell out of a second story window as a kid, and got hit by a truck, and then there was this time during a hockey semi-final—“

“—Mine’s from a car accident. A big section of glass gouged my hip—“ she sighed. Mac hugged her tightly.

“—And I got bitten by a dog, and fell on a broken section of sidewalk, and cracked my collarbone when
I tumbled out of my treehouse—“

“You sure FELL a lot as a kid—“ Rose observed. Mac laughed against her throat.

“Okay, yes I suppose I did, but I have gotten a little less clumsy since then.”

“That remains to be seen—“

“No, YOU remain to be seen—“ Mac shifted, rising off the sofa and pulling up his jeans with a slight blush. When he looked down at Rose, rumpled and sweet on the cushions of the sofa he held his hands out to her.

“Not here. This isn’t—casual.”

Rose nodded, grateful that he put it into the right words. She reached up for his fingers, letting him pull her to her feet and then into his arms.

“Bed. Please,” came Mac’s sweet request. He led her by the hand beyond the beaded curtain, letting the strands swing and click behind them. Rose looked over the bed, noting the faded quilt of green and gray, the thick pillows and carved wooden lighthouse lamp.

“Those came from Harry’s cabin in Minnesota. After Maria left I had trouble sleeping. Harry thought if I had familiar things, comfortable things around me it might help—“ Mac commented softly, trying to explain the shabbiness away. Rose nodded, running a hand over the surface of the quilt.

“It’s beautiful—someone put a lot of love into this comforter.”

Mac smiled.

Without discussion or hesitation they both undressed, lightly tossing their things over the foot of the cast iron frame. Rose glanced down at her right hip; in the golden light of the lamp the jagged scar was an uneven line riding over the bone and ending just before the long muscle of her thigh. Mac cupped a hand over it, rubbing softly.

“A part of you—no more, no less.”

But Rose’s attention had shifted to the warm lanky wall of man before her. With a shudder of excitement she put her arms around his neck, pulling him close. Mac responded, his own embrace encircling her waist as he leaned into the welcoming softness of her body against his and they stood, hugging for a long moment.

“I want you to know that even though we aren’t really making love, it’s still VERY important to me—“ Rose whispered against his warm bare shoulder. Mac’s hug tightened.

“It IS making love, and yes, I agree—“ he muttered back in a choked tone as he tumbled with her onto the quilt. Rose savored the sensation of Mac’s body kissing hers, the full wanton caress of their warm stomachs and thighs and chests. His slow reverence was new to her; with wide-eyed delight she accepted Mac’s tactile invitation to explore all the lovely contours and slopes and planes of his physique. Mac dimpled at her feather-light touches.

“See? Ten stitches for that one—“ he confessed as she stroked his elbow. She kissed it, making him draw in a breath.

“Lay back—“ Mac insisted, brushing her hair out of her eyes and licking her jaw line. With a wriggle, Rose did, wide-eyed and fretful, reaching for him even as he nipped his way down her ribcage.

“Mac—“

“Shhhhhh—“ came his strained reply. His hands, strong and clever, skimmed over her hipbones and down the front her thighs, caressing the muscle and smooth skin, gliding back up again along the inside of her legs, gently but determinedly parting them.

“I want to SEE—“ his husky tone demanded. Rose reluctantly spread her knees, her hands crossing protectively at the fluffy curls between her thighs.

“There’s too much light--I’m not used to being looked at—“ she muttered. Mac didn’t seem to hear her; his dark eyes seemed to glow in the faint illumination the lamp gave off.

“You’re—“ he began, words trailing off as he reached for one of her knees, pushing it, widening the spread of her thighs on the quilt. Rose gasped and tried to bring her legs together again, but Mac shifted to brace his shoulders between them, wedging them apart as he settled down, smiling with amazed intensity.

“Ooooohhhh . . .” he rasped in a low voice, “And I thought nothing was sweeter than chocolate—“

Rose felt her blush roll right down her body and she squirmed as the heat radiated off her skin. Mac glanced up and winked.

“Don’t be silly—get back up here so I can stop feeling---whooooahh, no, Mac, MAC—“

With a panicked spasm, Rose tried to sit up, cover herself and roll away all to no avail; Mac had dipped his head and was lightly kissing between her splayed fingers, humming gently. She reached down to tug his hair.

“Mac, it’s all right. Please! I don’t want you getting sick—come on—“

“Whoah, wait a minute—“ he pulled up from licking her thigh and shot her a puzzled look. She propped herself up on her elbows behind her, gazing down at him with a wistful smile.

“Sick?”

“Oh come on--it’s not safe to kiss a woman down there,” Rose grumbled.

“WHAT?” completely confused now, Mac propped himself up on one elbow. Rose gave him an impatient look.

“Mac, honestly, you’re a grown man, you KNOW this, right?”

“Wrong! I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about, and I have every intention of kissing you every place I can get my mouth and tongue on—“ He argued back, his face a blend of outrage and consternation. Rose stared at him, her lower jaw working.

“Mac, don’t play games with me—I know that anything like that is going to put you at risk—“

“For what? Acute bliss?” he teased.

For the first time Rose looked at a loss; she frowned.

“Someone told me that because of menstruation, it’s dangerous to—“

Mac tried to hide his snort and lightly ran his fingers over the silky curls of her mound.

“Yeah well Ramon told you wrong. Biologically your lovely anatomy here is not only healthy, it’s completely edible.”

“Mac!”

“Don’t even try to argue with me on this, Brat—I got straight A pluses in anatomy and comparative biology—“ lightly, he let his fingers part the soft folds, blowing a soft breath on the slickness there. Rose quivered, wobbling a little on her elbows.

“—Ooohhhhh---“

“Rose, he was wrong,” Mac whispered carefully, “Selfish and wrong—“ With slow and tender movements, Mac softly stroked the delicate flesh under the cascade of her curls. Rose moaned softly, shaking her head.

“But why would he---oohhhh—“ her breathing hitched as Mac lightly stroked a knuckle over the tender nub now exposed in the golden light. He made a low urgent sound in response.

“God you’re gorgeous and I’m going to show you just how much—“ trailing off, he bent forward, tongue sliding warmly within her. Rose instantly tensed. Her hands gripped his hair, but Mac didn’t feel it as he lost himself in the tangy sweetness, eagerly indulging his keen appetite for her. Under him, Rose flexed and wriggled, making the bed squeak a bit. With a long rising cry, she arched her hips, shuddering, her hands clenching Mac’s hair tightly as she came, hard.

Mac pulled back after a last lascivious lick along the pearly layers of Rose’s pussy, smugly pleased. He ignored the hard throb of his cock against the quilt preferring instead to savor the intensely sexual flavors on his tongue; Rose was delicious, a citrus honey taste mingled with clean musk. He winced a little as her fingers finally released his hair.

“Oh God—I just had a heart attack!” the drowsy panic in her voice brought him up short.

“A heart attack?”

“Uh, yeah—I went all tingly, and my pulse went nuts, and I sort of--blacked out---“ she shuddered with an aftertremble and sighed. Mac slowly crawled up along the mattress to lie next to her. She looked at his chin. There was a soft pause.

“That wasn’t a heart attack, huh?”

“Nope,” he reached to turn out the light, leaving them in quiet darkness.

“You made me—“

“Yes.”

“Mac—“

“Shhhhh----“ He wrapped himself around her, nestling close, stroking her soothingly. They lay together entwined and sated, drifting in an intimate harmony as the night began to pass.

*** *** ***

MacGyver’s Journal

Every now and then you find out something that makes you suddenly aware that other people have their own set of problems, and that those troubles are so amazingly convoluted that your own seem almost minor in comparison. There’s no doubt that I’ve had a rough few years—an unexpected green card marriage and the aftermath of it were pretty tough to endure, even with the support of my friends and family.

And I didn’t even tell THEM about the baby which has been my own anguished secret to keep.

But time has a way of letting pain ebb out of a life, and only now and then do you find a little puddle of it here and there. You get on with the business of living, letting your existence intersect those of others because that what living is supposed to be. And those other people with their puddles of pain can put a new perspective on the things that matter.

Like Rose. As I lie here, scribbling away she’s dead to the world, her little back pressed against mine, warm and sleepy. I made her that way. I can admit with pride and a sense of amazed delight at my own good fortune that this woman in my bed is the cozy prize after a long battle with myself.

I’m keeping her.

Even if she doesn’t know it yet.

Rose is worth losing the inner argument simply because the overall GAIN is almost more than I can understand. She’s sweet in every sense of the word, funny, sexy and frankly I owe her ex-fiancee a mouthful of broken teeth if I ever run into him. HER pool of pain is more like a rocky well, and the hell of it is she didn’t seem to know that she’s been cheated out of what should have been hers all along.

I mean Geez! What sort of a bastard convinces a woman that oral sex on him is fine, but on her is risky? The magnitude of that sort of selfish lie is more than mind-boggling—it’s the biggest load of criminal egotism I’ve ever heard of. Thank God Rose managed to get out from under him and under ME instead.

I can’t believe I wrote that—obviously my outrage is getting fueled a bit by my sex drive. But it’s true. Rose is better off with me here at third base than she EVER was at home plate with him.

*** *** ***

The early morning sunshine sent long warm beams through the gaps of the blinds. Mac didn’t open his eyes as a small hand curiously explored his chest, sliding down to his stomach.

“Are you always this warm?”

“It’s a conditioned response to growing up in Minnesota,” he rumbled back with a grin. “You learn to radiate your own heat.”

“Oh. And the, ah—“

“Ah--?”

Her hand had reached something much warmer and bigger. Playfully, Mac flexed, grinning at her yelp of surprise.

“How did you DO that?”

“Do what?” he tried for an innocent tone, but the silky weight of Rose pouncing on him finally made him open his eyes. She was straddling his waist, staring down into his face, her expression perplexed.

“Mac, what am I still doing here? I mean, I’ve just spent the night at your APARTMENT for God’s sake! This isn’t right!”

He noted that she’d managed to wrap up in the sheet, but that there was still enough of her visible to make him swell a bit more. So he did. Rose jumped. Lazily Mac crossed his arms behind his head and smiled up at her.

“Feels right to ME—“ he mulled. Rose returned his smile a bit uneasily, reaching down to brush his bangs back with a gentle finger.

“Don’t you want to think about this? We’re going awfully fast—“

Reluctantly Mac nodded.

“Yeah I know—but it’s still right. I think you know that too.”

Rose shifted, and her sheet began to slip. Mac helped it. She laughed, but the sound was still slightly troubled.

“Mac—I don’t want to be put in a position where I have to tell you ‘no’, darling. I’m not that kind of girl.”

“Yes I know—“ he stroked her chest, marveling at the proud heft of it, the feminine lushness that the banded sunlight highlighted with delicate grace. She looked down at his caressing hands, and a single strand of her curly auburn hair slithered down over his fingers. He drew in a breath.

“Beautiful—“ he breathed in a slightly awed tone. Rose squirmed, both from the complement and the sudden precariousness of her perch. While Mac’s words might be romantic, his body had slightly earthier response. She rolled her eyes.

“Mac, you’re, ah—“

“Oh yeah. Considering what I’ve got my hands on here, OOOOH yeah.”

“But we, I mean—uhnnnn—“ she gasped as his thumbs grazed over her ruckered nipples, toying with them gently.

“Still lots of options Brat baby—not everything has to end in the big bang, you know.”

“I don’t know—DIDN’T know—“ she chuffed, giving in to the determined explorations of those big elegant hands. MacGyver laughed low in his throat.

“I guess here is where our reputations divide then, because I can think of about seven different fun activities—“

“Seven!” her eyes went wide. Mac nodded solemnly, pulling her down for a kiss. She whispered against his mouth. “Mac?”

“Yes?”

“--Can we do them ALL?” she begged.

*** *** ***

Harry looked up through the glass of the front window, squinting against the sunshine. He knew a lot of things, and most of them pleased him. He knew Willis and Penny were planning on spending Thanksgiving at her mother’s place. He knew Lucy was fretting over her latest peach pie, even though it would be as heavenly as all the others. He knew Rose hadn’t left Mac’s apartment last night, and he knew that the dark-haired stranger coming through the door looked like a big spender if the Rolls Royce Corniche parked out front was anything to go by. Therefore, he smiled at the man.

“Mornin—“ he offered gruffly. The man flashed a smile at him and nodded. Some of the regulars looked him over, discreetly. Expensive clothes, stylishly long hair but clean, patient smile.

“Good afternoon. I would like a large glass of iced tea if you have it, please.” His English was slightly accented, and for a moment Harry thought of Desi Arnaz, but shrugged it off as he moved to fill a glass with ice and dark cool tea.

“Passing through?”

“Not really. I’m here to visit a dear friend of mine.” He replied courteously, fishing out his wallet and laying a couple of bills on the counter. Harry toted them to the register and made change.

“You don’t say.”

“Unfortunately I seem to have come before her shop is open, so I will wait.”

“Ah.” Harry mentally narrowed the possible candidates to two. The man sipped the tea and sighed appreciatively as Harry looked him over again.

“Her shop?”

“The one across the street, the DOG shop,” the man chuckled. For the first time, Harry’s expression tightened a fraction.

“PET shop. Clowderbock’s. Does good business. I expect Hudson will be along to open it shortly.”

“Hudson?” Confused, the men looked over his shoulder and then back at Harry. “But I was told it was hers. Her mother told me—“ his tone held a hint of accusation.

Harry shrugged and moved down the counter, feeling better every step he took away from the man. Despite his manners and clothes, the stranger was giving off a tiny vibe that Harry didn’t much like.

After twenty minutes, a tall youth on a bicycle sailed down the sidewalk and braked to a halt by the pet shop door. He unlocked it and rolled the bike inside; Harry noticed the stranger sigh and begin to walk out of the diner.

“Lucy hon—cover for me—I gotta call to make.”

Rose hummed to herself as she set Barnum’s huge kibble-filled dish down and took a sip of her tea. Her phone rang and she answered it, hoping it was Mac and knowing it probably wasn’t. He had errands to run in Ashford, and she herself needed time to catch up on all the unfinished housework around the bungalow, but he’d told her he would come to her afterwards, and the thought of THAT, of him, of them HERE--She caught a glimpse of herself, bright-eyed and flushed in the shiny reflection of the toaster as she burbled,

“Hello?”

“Hello, Miss Briar Rose Clowderbock?” It was an unfamiliar voice, and in the background she could hear other people and odd electronic sorts of sounds.

“Yes?”

“Miss Clowderbock, I’m Flora Thao from St. Luke’s in Johnson City. For legal reasons this conversation is being recorded and we need a quick verification of your identity—what is your date of birth?”

“May fourteenth—“ she rattled off, adding the year as she stepped around Barnum, who had looked up from his dish, concerned at her tone.

“Thank you. Miss Clowderbock, we have your brother, a Boris Newton Clowderbock here in the Emergency room of St. Luke’s. He’s been in a traffic accident and currently is not conscious. As his listed next of kin we need your post facto permission to admit him to surgery.”

“Oh God—“ Rose gripped the phone more tightly. She looked around on the table for a piece of paper, a pen—anything. The voice prompted again.

“Miss Clowderbock, I need your yes or no for our records. Your brother is already under our care—“

“Yes! Of course! Please do whatever you need to do—What happened?”

She could hear the ‘tock tockie’ sounds of a keyboard as Ms. Thao typed.

“According to the witnesses the EMTs spoke to he was sideswiped by a truck. They brought him in a hour ago and have already prepped him for surgery to his right leg and ankle. Miss Clowderbock, I will need you to come in as soon as possible.”

“Of course! Yes, absolutely!”

“Thank you. St. Luke’s is on Taft Parkway just off the interstate. Please drive safely.” This last was said without a trace of irony, a thought Rose found comforting. She hung up and picked up the phone again, dialing a familiar number. It rang several times before a machine picked up.

“Hello, you’ve reached Matt and Lara’s. Please leave us a message if you’re so inclined—“ her dad’s recorded message rumbled. Belatedly she remembered they were off to an entomology conference in Saskatoon, and not due back until the middle of the week. Frantically she dialed another number, a newer one in her memory. Busy signal. With a sigh, Rose pulled together her purse, keys and a few other things, and then herded Barnum out to the car.

“Are you SURE?” Mac’s voice sounded strained, but Harry could understand. The little gal was important, and it had been a long time since Mac had let himself get involved.

“He mentioned the pet shop right out, Bud,” Harry growled into the payphone, hunching closer to keep his voice low.

“Okay, let me call her—I think I know who this guy is, and if I’m right, this could get a little—unpleasant. Thank God Hudson’s too smart to give out her number.”

“He’s a good kid, yep. Meantime I’ll keep an eye on things here.”

“Thanks Harry—“ the call ended, and Harry Jackson went back to the kitchen, managing a smile at Lucy. She shot him a sharp look, her personal radar on high.

“Harry, what’s up?”

“Mebbe nothing—but it’s always best to be prepared.”

Within three minutes Harry glanced out to see Rose pull up in front of the pet shop, scrambling from the car, Barnum loping behind her. They barged into the shop and through the glass Harry could see by her jerky body language that the man was an unwelcome surprise. Harry moved to wipe the booth tables and get a better view. Across the street he watched as Rose bounced between Hudson and the stranger, hands waving in the air. The stranger was trying to soothe her, but she kept stepping out of his embrace while Hudson nodded at everything. Finally, Rose seemed to reach some decision and barreled out the door again, the stranger beside her. They climbed into his car, the fancy Rolls, and took off down Fairhaven leaving Hudson and Barnum in the doorway of the pet shop.

Harry frowned. He undid his apron and laid it on the counter, calling to Lucy.

“Back in a moment, gal—“ and stepped out the door of the diner. Shading his eyes, he crossed in the middle of the street, minding the light traffic, and reaching Hudson as the boy herded the Great Dane back into the shop.

“Hudson—“

“Mr. Jackson! Did you hear? Ms. Clowderbock’s brother is in emergency surgery!”

“What?”

“Yeah, she got a call from St. Luke’s over in Johnson City and her friend’s taking her there now. Man I hope he’s okay, but those wipeouts on motorcycles can be brutal,” the boy winced. A low sigh made Harry look over; Sebastian was gripping the open door of his salon, looking slightly bleak.

“St. Luke’s?” he echoed, his voice steady. Hudson nodded, working his fingers under Barnum’s collar. The big dog was starting to whimper. Harry sighed.

“Hudson, you stay until closing and I’ll make sure you get a dinner break. Murdoc, it might help if you get Penny or one of the gals ready to go stay with Rose once she gets home. Do you have her emergency number?”

“Yes, it’s on the block list,” Sebastian replied absently. “Who was the man who took her to the hospital?”

“Mr. Munoz—“ Hudson spoke up. “He was really nice, and insisted on driving her there.”

“Really?” Sebastian mused, chewing his lip. The rumble of a truck broke into their conversation and they watched as Mac parked in the alley between the diner and Penny’s. He darted across the street to them.

“Where’s Rose? What’s up? “ he asked, looking over the three men staring back at him.

“She’s gone,” Hudson volunteered.

“Her brother’s in the hospital, Bud, in Johnson City.”

Startled, Mac looked from one face to the other in wary concern. Uneasily he shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Boris? Geez, what happened? Is he going to be all right? And where’s the man—Ramon?”

“Oh he drove her to the hospital. Probably a good idea since she was pretty upset and all,” came Hudson’s quick reply. Sebastian caught the incredulous look on MacGyver’s face and paused.

“Is there a problem?”

But Mac was already dashing back across the street in a full run for the truck.

*** *** ***

Rose was so pre-occupied with trying to get through to St. Luke’s that she didn’t feel the hand on her knee until it had wandered to the top of her thigh. With annoyance she picked it up by the index finger and bent it back until Ramon yelped, yanking his wounded hand back to the steering wheel.

“Aye! Not so hard, Rohse—I was simply being friendly—“ he sulked for a moment. She pressed the phone to her ear again.

“You were pushing your luck. We’re THROUGH, Ramon, and if it wasn’t for the fact that you offered me a quick ride I don’t think I’d even be TALKING to you!” Her temper flared, fueled by new awareness and old resentment. The man next to her grinned, white teeth flashing as the speedometer rose past seventy.

“Ah that bite, that heat—I have MISSED you, Cara. I know that now, and I sense that you do too. Can’t you admit it even a little?”

“No,” she stated flatly, annoyed with both the dial tone in her ear and the smarmy smile of the man next to her. Ramon chuckled.

“You’ll have to forgive your mother you know. I didn’t have to work too hard to make her slip. A few well-chosen questions and it was easy to find you again, so that gives me hope. We were MEANT to be, Paloma, you KNOW we were.”

“The only thing I KNOW is that if you don’t slow down we’re going to get a ticket,” Rose snarled, shaking the cell phone angrily.

“A minor matter—“ he shrugged, unconcerned. Rose drew in a breath and looked out the side window, letting the silence drag out. Ramon cleared his throat.

“Come Rohse, at least admit you are glad to see me.”

“Unlike you, I don’t lie Ramon. NO, I’m not glad to see you. I gave you back your ring, I told you I didn’t love you and I moved away—what MORE of a clue do you need that things have changed?” she muttered with sarcasm. He gave a weak little chuckle and rubbed his own thigh as they turned off the highway and headed down the frontage road.

“You have always been impulsive, Cara, we both know that. It’s your nature as a woman of course. My pride was hurt but in spite of that I still love you. I’ve missed you, my family has missed you. Tia Dulce asks about you every day.”

Rose shuddered. The memory of the tiny old woman bitchily demanding to know why she wasn’t pregnant with Ramon’s strong healthy son was one she’d tried hard to repress. She was saved a response as the car pulled into the long driveway of the Emergency entrance. Rose hastily unbuckled and climbed out, not waiting for Ramon before darting through the sliding glass doors. There were a few people ahead of her in the line in front of the information desk, so she took a moment to catch her breath and think.

“Miss Clowderbock?” A voice asked softly. She looked up as a round little woman with bunned iron grey hair and granny glasses approached her. The woman held out a hand and motioned to her; Rose hesitated, not wanting to lose her place in line. The woman spoke in a low, urgent voice.

“I’m Charlotte Gunderson, Newt’s supervisor, and before you talk to the admitting nurse I need to talk to YOU.”

“What’s this about? Is Newt okay?” Reluctantly Rose let herself be led away to an alcove with a sofa. Ms Gunderson patted her arm.

“Newt’s fine—he’s still in surgery, but I talked to the doctors and they’re all optimistic. Your brother’s bike got sideswiped—the trucker’s rear view mirror hit Newt’s left elbow and knocked him off-balance. The motorcycle went down on his right side, and his lower leg and ankle took the impact, but fortunately he had those heavy boots on—they took a lot of the damage.”

“God! So he’s crippled?” Rose squeaked. Ms. Gunderson firmly shook her head, granny glasses twinkling in the light.

“Only for the next three months or so. Newt’s got a great constitution, and the doctors have told me that the ankle break was pretty clean. They’re sewing up some of the snapped tendons and putting pins in, but it’s all looking good.”

“He’s still in surgery?” Rose blinked. She hated feeling one idea behind in this conversation, but couldn’t help herself. Apparently Ms Gunderson didn’t mind: she gave Rose a nod and patted her hands again, smiling gently.

“Newt talked about you a lot, and that photo on his desk made it easy to recognize you. Did you manage to reach your folks?”

Rose shook her head, feeling some of the tension leave her shoulders. Ms Gunderson sighed, and pinched the bridge of her nose under the granny glasses.

“We’re in a tricky position here, Ms. Clowderbock—“

“—Just call me Rose, please—“

“—Thank you, Rose. I’m sure you know the kind of work your brother does, and why he was on a motorcycle in the first place. We’re not sure if this accident was—“

“—Really an accident—“ Rose finished. She looked up and a wave of slow panic hit her stomach as she felt an arm slide around her waist. Ramon looked down at her, his smile gone.

“How terrible it would be if his cover was blown—“ he murmured. Ms Gunderson nodded darkly.

“Or HAS been blown. So at the moment we’re screening any potential visitors and trying to line up a place for him to recuperate.”

“So he---?”

“—Can stay undercover. We’ve put almost two years into this operation and Newt himself has carried the bulk of that. Anyway, I’ve got to get back and see about some of the other loose ends. Here—“

She pressed a card into Rose’s hand.

“Give me a call when you’ve seen Newt. I’ll be back after I’ve talked with some people and set a few things up. Are you going to be all right, honey?”

“I’ll be fine—“ she tried to say, but Ramon squeezed her to his side and spoke up.

“She will be fine. I will take good care of her, as I always do.”

Ms Gunderson’s eyebrow went up, but she shrugged and gave a nod, not completely convinced. Over the loudspeaker came a page.

“Attention all visitors! A vehicle with the license plate RMNSTUD is currently blocking the ambulance entrance and is being towed in accordance with St. Luke’s policy. If this is your vehicle please go to the Security and parking offices on the first floor.”

Ramon paled. Rose looked at Ms. Gunderson who suddenly understood and tried hard not to snicker.

“Rohse—excuse me—“ he hurried off, brushing past a woman on crutches and nearly knocking her down. Both women watched him go.

“Boyfriend?”

“EX-boyfriend. Current pain in the ass.” Rose sighed. Ms Gunderson chuckled knowingly.

“He reminded me of my fourth husband. The one who ended up in an oil drum off the coast of Baja.”

Rose looked startled: Mc Gunderson shrugged and smiled.

“Ask Newt about me—he’s got time to tell you the stories now. I’ll be back, Hon. Give me a call if anything comes up.” So saying she patted Rose’s hand again, but Rose pulled her into a hug and the woman responded warmly.

“Thanks Rose—I needed that as much as you did—Newt’s like a son to me—“ she whispered and was gone.

The line was shorter, and when Rose finally reached the information nurse the girl there was helpful.

“Third floor’s Post Op. He’s under Doctor Granger’s care—“

And then came the clipboard with fifteen pages on it. Rose sighed. She took it to an empty chair and began laboriously filling in blanks, grateful for the chance to do something in the long wait of the afternoon.

She’d finished two pages and was trying to remember Newt’s social security number when a voice cut through her thoughts.

“Rose—“

With a glad sob she looked up, dropping the clipboard and sliding gratefully into Mac’s arms. He smelled of wood shavings and worry; she burrowed into him. The last of her tension unclenched, and to her horror she felt herself begin to cry. Mac seemed to expect that and just held her tightly.

After a while she pulled back and wiped her eyes, blinking and sniffling. He managed a little smile at her.

“How is he?”

“Still in surgery. His boss was here and she told me they got to him very quickly.”

“His BOSS?” Mac’s expression was endearingly confused; Rose blinked and managed a laugh.

“Yeah. My brother’s an undercover agent for the DEA, Mac. He’s not REALLY a biker.”

“Ohh! Wow, really?”

“Really. He’s been working on this sting for the past year and a half, following a lead on a network of Meth labs in the state. Newt’s good at what he does.”

“Newt?” A little lost, Mac merely nodded and Rose fished for a Kleenex, blowing her nose.

“Boris Newton—Newton for my Dad’s uncle and Boris for my mom’s dad—it’s all a family thing—“

“Miss Clowderbock?” A tall thin man in green scrubs came towards her, his expression relaxed. Rose faced him with trepidation, biting her lip. Mac laid his hands on her shoulders as he stood behind her, warm and solid.

“Your brother’s fine. We managed to get him patched up, and he’s the proud owner of two shiny new pins now, but with good rehabilitation he’ll be up and walking in no time.”

“That’s great—“ Mac offered, squeezing Rose’s shoulders. She nodded, not able to speak. Mac continued.

“We know he’s in Post Op, but any chance of seeing him?”

“Sure—he’s going to be pretty groggy, but I think it would do him a lot of good to know you’re here.”

*** *** ***

“But I AM family! Practically family that is!” Ramon was shouting at the nurse sitting at the station. She gave him a bored glance over the top of her glasses. Ramon glared at her.

“Sir, you are not a blood relative, and I have to ask you to lower your voice.”

“Fine!” he hissed in impotent rage. In one fist he had a crumpled receipt for his impounded Rolls and in the other, a parking ticket. The nurse sighed.

“Mr. Munoz, I’m terribly sorry and know this is a difficult time for you, but our rules are based on governmental regulations and enforced by law. If you would care to come back tomorrow and talk to Doctor Granger—“

Ramon sighed, noisily. He turned away from the window and dropped himself into the nearest empty chair, fishing for a cell phone in his pocket as a slender figure in a long black coat made his way to the nurse.

“I’m arranging for flowers to be sent to a patient here—“ came the low British accent, “A Mr. Clowderbock?”

“Popular guy—“ the nurse grunted. Sebastian gave a tight smile, nodding.

“So I would have guessed. Should I have them sent here, or is there a room I can add to the address?”

“He’s in post Op, but he’ll be in Room 212 tomorrow.”

“Doing all right, is he then?” came the wistful question. The nurse looked at Sebastian, a little smile flickering over her face. She nodded.

“Official I can’t say, but between you and me, yes. The last update we got here at the desk is that his vitals are good and his surgery went well. He’s looking at some rehab for his ankle, but other than that—“

Sebastian patted the woman’s hand gratefully. As he turned, he caught sight of Ramon hissing rapid Spanish into his cell phone.

“It’s NOT my fault, Papito! Just another ticket, have ‘Lita take care of it. Oh Rose was VERY happy to see me. Yes. Practically threw herself at me as I knew she would. Of course! By the end of the week, Papi. Yes. Yes you can let Tia Dulce plan the wedding. I have to go, Papi. No, it’s all right, I will call a cab—“

Sebastian passed by the man, thinking furiously. He waited and watched as Ramon redialed the phone. This time he spoke in a low tone and in a much more forceful manner.

“Primo listen, it might take a bit more than charm to get her back. No! I don’t have the time to chase someone else! I can’t afford to lose my place in the will but it’s all right—I have insurance now. Oh yes—“ he chuckled, shaking his head and Sebastian averted his face when the man spoke again.

“That maricon de playa brother of hers could be exposed as the Federale that he is—and believe me, the Mongols would take his kidneys out if they knew that. Rose loves him too much to risk it. Yes. Married in a month, easily. Have Jorge and Pito meet me at the hotel tonight. Adios.”

Sebastian watched him leave and gritted his teeth.

*** *** ***

Rose slept, sagging against Mac’s shoulder as the truck rumbled on in the darkness of early evening. Mac savored the feel of her there, pleased she was with him. She needed the little nap and the lift since Ramon had disappeared without so much as a goodbye. Mac was disappointed he hadn’t actually MET the creep—this latest callous treatment in the face of the accident was enough to make him quietly seethe with righteous anger. Rose shifted, and he bent quickly to plant a kiss on the top of her head.

“Nearly back,” he murmured to her as the truck turned down Bellano road. She sighed, making a small contented sound and Mac felt a flood of pleasure through his system in response to that. He carefully pulled up the gravel driveway to her bungalow, noting Penny’s Toyota at the curb. As he parked, Rose roused herself, running a hand through her hair.

“Home again—“ she yawned.

“You bet. Let’s see if your folks called.”

They walked onto the covered porch and Rose dug in her purse for her keys as they heard Barnum bark. The door opened and Penny greeted them, her sweet face etched with worry. Barnum lunged forward, licking both Mac and Rose thoroughly while they came in.

“Rose, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, Boris is fine. He’s going to be laid up for about three days but the doctors are telling me he’s got a classic break. Did my parents call?”

“Twice—I love your mom’s accent! And those came—“ she pointed to a huge bouquet on the dining room table. Rose rolled her eyes, walking over to it slowly as Mac spoke softly to Penny. Rose read the card.

“Penny, would you please take these with you? They’re lovely but I don’t really want them.”

“Oh gee! Only if you’re sure—“ she added uncertainly. Rose scooped them off the table and handed them to her with a smile.

“I’m sure. And thanks for watching Barnum. I’ll be opening a bit later tomorrow, depending on how things go with my folks.”

Penny gave her a sympathetic hug and managed a wink at Mac who pretended not to see it, even though he blushed. She left, carrying the bouquet, but the scent lingered. Rose sighed.

“Let’s order a pizza—I have to call my folks and I DON’T want to do that on an empty stomach. Will you stay?”

Mac shot her a look through his lashes, a heated chocolate glance that made her squirm.

“With a jerk like Ramon around, oh yeah. Not about to leave you to the likes of HIM.” This came out in a hard flat tone. Mac was pleased to see Rose accept it.

“I’ve got Barnum—“

“—And me.”

Rose laughed outloud as she picked up the phone.

“What do you want on your pizza, my hero?”

*** *** ***

It rained, a cold autumn downpour steady and dreary outside, hissing gently. Inside, Rose was pouting as Mac managed to build yet another hotel on St. James’ place. They were on the thick carpet, the board game on the coffee table between them, glasses of wine off to the sides.

“You know, for a guy who claims he’s not into materialistic gain you’re QUITE the robber baron here—“ Rose hissed, rolling the dice. Mac laughed.

“Just because I won’t let you make loans to yourself from the bank—and stop hiding your five hundreds under the board—I’m WISE to you, Brat—“

“Phffffffft” she stuck her tongue out at him. He shook his head.

“Such maturity—pay up, Miss Deadbeat, or risk time in the Hotel Cinderblock.”

Rose began reluctantly turning over her deed cards, grumbling as Mac sipped his wine. She fished out the rest of her bills, sighing as she added it all up. Mac watched her, his hands resting behind his head.

“A little short, are we?” he teased.

“Not by that much—and I know I’m due to win second prize in the beauty contest,” Rose countered. She looked up and caught his eye. Mac shrugged.

“No comment about your Community Chest—“

“Mac, maybe you could see your way clear—“

“Clear to let you merrily skip out without paying the bill? Let you go without a single bit of recompense for my fine rooms and fancy room service? Think again, Toots. I didn’t claw my way to the top of this game by letting people get away with---“ he stopped as a warm foot slid up his thigh, stroking the long muscle sensually. Rose batted her eyes at him.

“Oh I believe in the barter system you know—an exchange of—services—for goods,” she purred. “And I can be very good at service—“

Mac swallowed. The warm sweet pressure of her foot against the growing swell at his groin felt wonderful. He throbbed against her toes.

“S-Service? Ah. Go on---“ he rumbled, trying very hard to keep a poker face. Rose began to lick her lower lip.

“Yes indeed. I’ve got a few talents that a big hard tycoon like you might appreciate.”

“Mmmmm—“ Mac shifted, spreading his knees wider under the table. Shamelessly Rose grinned.

“Acupressure for one. That’s a treatment worth at LEAST one railroad.”

“Possibly—“ Mac conceded, biting back a groan. He slid a hand down and caught her ankle. Rose’s eyes widened. She shivered a tiny bit.

“No---nonononono—you wouldn’t!”

“Really?” Even as he spoke, Mac sent his other hand along the arch of her foot in a light quick stroke. Rose writhed, trapped.

“No tickling, PLEASE!”

“Fair enough—but acupressure’s not really my thing. I have more diverse interests, oh little Miss Exchangeable Commodities. Anything else you can offer for my hospitality?”

“Lip service?”

“Ooooh. Think you can kiss off this debt of yours—“ Mac rumbled with a nod. He crooked a finger at her imperiously, and Rose giggled.

“Don’t keep me waiting, Brat—better get settled into the lap of luxury and make with the mouth—Ooooof!!”

Rose had bounded over the top of the table and dropped herself heavily into Mac’s already aching lap, settling warmly there as she giggled up into his face.

“Be my sugar daddy—“ she purred. Mac arched an eyebrow at her.

“The board’s all screwed up—I guess this means the game’s over—“

Slowly, sensually Rose lifted her mouth to his, letting her lips open slightly. Mac slid his tongue in, rasping it against hers in a slick kiss as hot a furnace. Rose slid her arm around him, drinking him in, whimpering softly. When they broke apart, she gasped,

“New game.”

“BETTER game,” Mac huskily agreed as his hands cupped her face. They kissed again.

“Is it—just a game?” Rose asked in a little voice. Nose to nose with her, breathing her breath, Mac shook his head while keeping his dark eyes locked on hers.

“Not to ME. I don’t know if you’re really ready for this, but nothing about you and me is a game anymore, Brat. Not the way I feel with you, not the things I feel when I’m NOT with you.”

Rose’s blue eyes brightened as a slow incredulous smile crossed her face. She drew in a slow breath.

“I worry about you sometimes Mac. I think of you when it rains like this, and when I know you’re doing something dangerous. I don’t want you to get hurt by ANYTHING. Not me either.”

Mac cupped the back of her slender neck, laughing softly.

“I’m bound to get hurt sometime, Rose—but I know it won’t be by you. Don’t ask me how, but I KNOW it, okay. I’ve been through pain before and it DOES lessen. Learned that the hard way from Maria.”

“Mac, I want to know about her—“ Rose sighed unhappily. Mac swallowed and nodded. He shifted a little, settling that luscious behind a bit more firmly on his lap before he started speaking in a slow and thoughtful way. Rose rested her cheek on his shoulder.

“About two years ago I went to Europe with the Phoenix club. Rock climbers. We had planned on scaling some cliffs in the south of France and Germany and I was pretty hyped up about the whole trip. After a couple of weeks we ran across another climbing club and that’s where I met Maria Romberg.”

Mac tensed; Rose could feel him tighten his grip on her so she wrapped her arms around him and stroked his back softly. It seemed to help; he relaxed a tiny degree.

“She was bright, and pretty and liked hanging around with me. By the time both clubs reached Bavaria we were sort of an item.”

“A couple.”

“Yeah. My buddy Mike didn’t like her much and tried to tell me so, but I wasn’t worried. The trip was going to end in a week or two and I’d had fun, but it wasn’t as serious as Maria seemed to think. Sorry if that sounds kind of shallow, but when a pretty woman keeps climbing into your sleeping bag night after night—“

Rose winced a little. Mac gave a discouraged sigh.

“I’m a different man now, Rose—but I won’t lie. Yes I have a past I’m not always thrilled about. All of that changed when Maria told me she was pregnant.”

In shock, Rose looked up and into Mac’s bleak face. He gritted his teeth and gave the tiniest of nods.

“Oh yeah. Suddenly MacGyver, footloose and fancy-free Romeo was going to be a daddy. I freaked for a while, but there was never any doubt about what I was going to do. I took her to the embassy in St. Polis Austria and married her. Rush job, no time for either family, not that she had any, and only the climbing buddies standing around as witnesses. I made a call to Harry, but I didn’t tell him about the pregnancy at the time. Filled out the paperwork and a few friends at the State department helped speed things along. Within three weeks Maria and I were back here in Grove Hollow, Mister and Missus MacGyver.”

Mac sighed, a deep sound that seemed to fill his chest; He tightened his hold on her for a second.

“What—happened?”

He gave a bitter laugh.

“What happened is that Maria didn’t want the baby. She wanted a shot at US citizenship, and I happened to be a pleasant way to get it. The baby was incidental and to her way of thinking easily—disposed of.”

Rose gasped, the cold prickle of comprehension running down her spine, chilling her senses. She lifted her head to look at him, and the shocking sight of his eyes bright with unshed tears left her speechless. Mac wiped a hand across his face.

“Two weeks after we got here, I came home to find her gone—a brief note told me I could file for a divorce on the grounds of spousal abandonment. A week later I got a bill from an abortion clinic in Ashford. Seventy five dollars.”

The hot prickle of her own tears overwhelmed Rose and she sobbed, one soft low sound. Mac’s arms tightened around her, and she felt his own joining hers.

*** *** ***

Harry had finished locking up the iron gates that rolled down over the front of the diner when he realized that the lights of the Curl Up and Dye were still on. Concerned, Harry crossed the dark wet street to the shop, peering in the big plate glass window in the front. Sebastian was there, back to him as he hung up the phone. Harry rapped on the window. With a welcoming lift of one eyebrow, Sebastian crossed the salon and opened the door.

“Harry, you’re just the man I wanted to see! Do you know if MacGyver’s home?”

“No, I don’t think so—“ Harry admitted reluctantly, stepping into the salon. Sebastian gave a little exasperated sound and shook his head.

“And if I were to guess, he’s probably someplace where he DOESN’T want to be disturbed. Ah well, the man deserves a soupcon of happiness I suppose—“

“Gee, he’ll be so glad he’s got yer permission,” Harry drily replied. Sebastian flashed a grin at the older man.

“Harry, believe me, part of Mac’s obvious intent will always be rooted in that big strong Boy Scout streak of his and I damn well KNOW that Miss Rose’s ex is a twenty four carat bastard, make no mistake.”

“Really?” Harry’s tone was a bit more serious now; Sebastian nodded grimly.

“Yes. He’s planning on blackmailing the girl into marrying him by threatening her brother.”

Harry stared at Sebastian for a long moment, processing that thought. He cocked his head and worked his jaw a bit, then growled,

“Well—I don’t think we can let THAT happen.”

Sebastian gave a tiny nod to show his emphatic agreement and crossed his arms over his chest. Harry shoved his hands in his pockets; for a long calculating moment neither man spoke.

“Mac won’t like us interfering ya know.”

“If we do it right, MacGyver won’t even know we DID—“

“True—“ came Harry’s reluctant admission. He sighed. The night was getting colder and even though there was a pause in the rain the scent on the wind told him more was on the way. Sebastian flicked off the lights of the shop.

“Instinct tells me Mr. Munoz will be back here tomorrow, Harry. By then, I may have a few things—ready for him.”

Harry shared a look of perfect understanding with Sebastian.

*** *** ***

Mac sighed. It was an odd sensation to be lying on the carpet, looking up at the underside of the coffee table while Rose curled up half at his side, half on his chest. He felt relaxed and at peace with himself, relieve to be drained of a secret that had been eating away at him for so long. He felt a lick on his forehead and looked up into Barnum’s warm slobbery muzzle. Leisurely, the Great Dane licked him again, and Mac chuckled.

“Love you TOO, Barn, but---“ Barnum chuffed and looked ready to wash the rest of Mac’s face, but edged away when Rose struggled to sit up, brushing her hair out of her eyes.

“Ohhh I feel—better.”

“—Me too,” Mac admitted wonderingly. Rose looked into his face, noting his serene expression despite his wet lashes and slightly red eyes. She kissed his chin.

“A good cry does wonders, and the hell of it is not enough men give themselves the chance.”

“Guys grieve differently,” Mac sighed. “When my mom died I took off for almost six months, bummed around the country. I couldn’t stand the thought of facing anyone here in Grove Hollow until I’d been through Thanksgiving and Christmas without her. After that, I was able to come back.”

Rose nodded, reaching out a hand to help him up. Mac got to his feet stiffly and Barnum circled them both, the dog’s expression indicating a serious need to get to the back yard. With a chuckle and a pat, Rose moved through the kitchen and opened the back door, letting the big dog trot out into the wet yard. A cold breeze gusted in, and it felt refreshingly good on her face. Mac stood behind her breathing deeply.

“It’s going to rain again, but the air feels great.”

“Yeah. I usually sleep with a window open in the bedroom--is that okay with you?” Rose murmured. Mac choked a little at the sweet implications of that indirect invitation. He dropped a hand on her shoulder and squeezed.

“Rose, I’d be fine on the couch.”

“Mac, you’d be fine anywhere, but my sofa is NOT built for two—“ she turned to look up at him, her expression uncertain, “—unless you don’t want—“

“—Oh I WANT—“ he quickly assured her, going pink along the cheekbones, “Trust me on that, yes I WANT, but I didn’t dare—assume, you know?”

Rose hugged him, savoring the wall of heat and strength that Mac was.

“Yeah well I want TOO, but I was a little scared that maybe YOU didn’t—“

They both laughed. Barnum came lumbering in, shaking himself off and Rose reached for a towel to dry him. Mac helped.

“Let’s lock up and go to bed, okay? It’s late, and I’ve got to get my folks—“

Mac smiled, nodding. They moved through the living room, picking things up, turning off lights and locking doors, a comfortable duet of familiar tasks. Barnum trotted over to his big basket in the living room and settled into it with a contented sigh. Mac turned and looked to the bedroom door and shivered. Rose’s voice drifted out to him.

“Feel like a shower?”

That sounded intriguing and Mac swallowed, moving forward before he replied,

“Yeah—“

The bathroom was small and feminine, in greens and greys. The counter ran along one wall with a full mirror over it, and a hanging basket of scented soaps and fat candles dangled in the corner. Along the other wall was a glass encased tub/shower combo. Big towels sat on the counter. Mac looked around.

“Rose?” He called. She peeked in the open doorway at him.

“Yes—“

“You’re—“ he plunged ahead, “--You’re welcome to join me—“

Her eyes widened a little, and she gripped the doorframe so tightly he could see her knuckles go white.

“Really?” her voice was high and nervous; the sound of it made Mac relax. He began to unbutton his shirt, forcing his hands not to shake.

“Sure—that way I don’t end up using all the hot water. These bungalows have tiny water heaters and believe me I ought to know—“ he rushed on, suddenly dry mouthed. Rose had stepped into the bathroom and was fumbling with her sweater, puling it off over her head. She pulled a knob under the counter and the tip out laundry bin popped into view. Tidily she dropped the sweater in. Mac looked at Rose standing there in a lacy bra that was more of a gift wrapping than a foundation garment and felt his pulse hammering in his ears. Rose blushed, and crossed her arms over her chest protectively.

“You’re staring—“ she squeaked. Mac nodded. With an eager shyness she stepped closer and reached for the rivet snap at the top of his fly, undoing it clumsily. She drew his fly down, well aware of the denim swelling under her touch. Mac lightly nuzzled her ear as his hands slipped around her back and began to work the hooks of the bra.

“I’m nervous—“ he confessed, and Rose looked up at him, her eyes big and blue.

“Yeah, me too. I never showered with anyone before.”

“Ah,” Mac commented, “Well it’s a lot like taking a bath with someone, but you do it standing up.”

Rose made a face at him, lightly punching his shoulder and he grinned back. They were huddled close, a proximity of warm skin. Rose glanced down and gave a little gasp that made Mac blush.

“That’s—big.”

“It’s a bit above average—“ he countered modestly, “According to Masters and Johnson.”

“Who are they?” Rose asked absently, reaching down to caress the thick shaft. Mac watched her, his eyes closing for a second in pure pleasure.

“American researchers in the field of human sexuality—“ he managed to reply. Rose’s two hands were wrapped around him now, and the heat of her little palms was divine. He rocked his hips forward a tiny bit and Rose giggled.

“Nice work if you can get it—“

Reluctantly she let him go and reached into the shower to turn the water on. Mac stepped out of his jeans and boxers, neatly folding them. Rose twisted her hair and pinned it up; as she brought her arms up, her breasts shifted, rising in an enticing way that Mac couldn’t resist. He pressed close behind her and reached around, cupping them. Both of them studied their reflection in the bathroom mirror. Rose was breathing hard; Mac was licking her neck.

“Mac—“ she groaned, shivering at his touch, suddenly hot and achy and completely aware of her skin. Mac’s tanned fingers spread around the sleek globes of her breasts, and the gentle thrust of his erection against the back of her panties felt good. Even the scrape of his beard along her throat felt right.

“We’ve got to get in the shower FAST, because right now all I can think about is going to bed and it’s driving me crazy, Brat—“ he chuffed in her ear. She nodded.

They stepped into the steamy water, letting it wash over them. Mac reached for the soap and began to scrub Rose’s back as she stood huddled in the stream.

“Now the front, wooo!” he remarked happily. Rose tried to glare up at him but failed miserable, breaking into a grin as his hands soaped up her chest.

“Stop staring—you’re making me self-conscious!”

“Let me get this straight—we’re standing stark naked in a shower together, I have a fairly serious erection here and YOU’RE self-conscious?” Mac snorted, his face pink. Rose nodded, looking down at his big foamy hands sliding with loving concentration in slow circles on her chest. She sighed.

“Erections go down, eventually. I’ve got these sticking out forever—“

“Poor woman--Let me keep rubbing and see if I can wear them down—“

“Mac!” Rose protested half-heartedly. His touch actually felt VERY good, and judging by the nudging against her thigh, he liked it too. She reached down and caressed him, and he grunted.

“Rose—“

“I think I could like showering with you—“ she admitted with a soft excited laugh. Her stroking accelerated, aided by soap and hot water and helplessly Mac watched her, his thighs tensing.

“Rose, uh, you better stop—“ he gripped her wrist. She reluctantly slowed pouting a bit.

“Why?”

“Because it feels good,” he told her in a tight voice. “Like I might—“

“Ohhh—I want to see that—“ she confessed in a low choky voice. Mac looked at her, seeing Rose’s bright eyes, the rapid beat of her pulse along her slender neck in the filtered light shining through the opaque shower door. He leaned back against the tile, pulling Rose with him, settling his feet in a stance wide enough to pull her closer.

“Okay,” he agreed, his voice slightly strained, aware of something tight and hot choking in his chest. This moment of trust, intimate and tender floated around them along with the steam.

“Faster. And harder, Brat—“ he told her and then chewed his lip. Rose caressed him, watching, breathing quickly herself as she felt his shaft throb in her hands. He braced his palms on the wall behind him.

“So hot, Mac—“ she sighed.

“OhohhOoooohhhhh” Mac’s lean stomach tightened and he rocked his hips forward, lost in the sullen pleasure rippling through his body, spilling over onto Rose’s sleek wet hip in hot splashes. She watched, wide-eyed with wonder, amazed, delighted. Mac slumped a little as the water cascaded on the two of them. Rose reluctantly let go of him and rubbed her hand soothingly on his belly as Mac cradled her close.

Later, in the dark bedroom between clean sheets, Rose wrapped around him and kissed the side of his face, her breath warm and soft against his skin.

“Thank you. Making you feel that way, SEEING it—oh Mac, it was so beautiful—“

He drew in a breath and ran a hand along her bare hip, but she shook her head and kissed him again.

“I’m so full already, so happy right now. After tomorrow when I’ve dealt with everything, then I want you just for me.”

Mac would have protested, but the satisfied warm tone of her voice stopped him, and he felt that fluttering in his chest again at the sound of it. He pulled her close, letting her snuggled her face down into his neck and wrapped around her.

“Okay. I’ll hold you to it.”

When he was sure she was asleep, breathing slow and deep, he added in a gentle low voice.

“Love you.”

*** *** ***

As he sat in the parking lot, Ramon checked his watch again, aware that he himself was being scrutinized. It didn’t bother him. One he’d managed to convince Rose to his way of thinking, he’d never have to see this town again anyway. On the seat next to him sat a bouquet of roses and a wrapped box of Belgian chocolates—the little seahorses that he knew she loved. And flowers of course. Like any woman she had her weaknesses; Ramon understood that even when she said no, her heart wasn’t in it.

Rose had always been like that. All it took was a firm reminder or two, a little loving attention to her flaws and she would acquiesce. And truly, once he convinced her to reduce her breasts and settle down from this whole independence nonsense, the better. Pregnancy was the key. A baby would definitely please his father and make everything work out right. He would be the first inheritor in the will again, and his future assured.

A truck pulled up in front of the shop and a lanky blonde man climbed out, heading for the front door. Frowning, Ramon watched him unlock the shop and walk in. After a moment, Ramon got out of the Rolls and strode in himself, grimacing at the scent of cedar chips and disinfectant.

“Shop’s closed—“ the man behind the counter muttered absently. He was opening bags of food and filling dishes, the rattle of kibble loud.

“Ah.” Nonplussed, Ramon waited. The man looked up, and in that moment they exchanged glances. The blonde man’s eyes narrowed to a flinty stare.

“You’re him.”

“Ehxcuse me?” Ramon adjusted his tie with fastidious gestures, buying time. For some reason this seemed to annoy the man behind the counter even more.

“Rose’s ex-fiance.” The tone was markedly chilly and Ramon took umbrage. Who WAS this rude man?

“Yes, well she exaggerates the ex part. In truth, we are almost completely reconciled,” Ramon lied blithely, managed a tight smile.

The blonde man shot him a skeptical look as he picked up a few of the dishes and headed to the kitten cage. Ramon watched him disinterestedly.

“When will she be in?”

The man stared at him. Ramon managed a forced laugh.

“Yes well I know her brother’s been in an accident, so I assume she’s going to be with him. I just wondered when she would be back here, at this—shop.” Ramon fumed internally, mentally deciding that the blonde man was a prime example of why Rose needed to leave America. Too much rudeness.

The man fed the kittens and came back to the counter reaching for a different bag—something in pellets for the hamsters. Ramon crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the man who was obviously ignoring him.

“Is she coming in today or NOT?”

“It’s no longer any business of YOURS, okay? Rose doesn’t want to see you, not now, not EVER and I support that, so you’re going to have to leave unless you want me to call the police.”

“Aye! And just who the hell ARE you anyway?” Ramon snarled, all pretense at good manners gone in the light of this irritating challenge. The blonde man gave a grimly smug smile.

“Me? I’m the man who slept naked with her last night.”

“Hijo de puta, you LIE—“ Ramon lunged, stopped only by slamming into the counter. Mac shook his head, smiling but wary.

“Nope.”

“I don’ know what your game is, but Rose belongs to ME. I spent a fortune on her, two years of patience and care, and I will NOT start over again because of some asshole like you!” Ramon spat, tensing his hands, looking for an opening. Mac shrugged, watching carefully.

“She’s a WOMAN, not an investment, not a trophy, you damn jerk! And let me tell you, the kind of CARE you dish out she sure as hell doesn’t need—all that bullshit about her body, about sex—Jesus! The scar on her hip is NOTHING compared to the ones you’ve left on her psyche!”

“Typical American—“ Ramon snorted arrogantly, slamming his hands on the counter. “Butting in where you’re not wanted! Rose is MY business, understand? Don’t make the mistake of getting in my way.”

The blonde man narrowed his eyes again.

“It’s not a mistake, it’s a promise, you bastard.”

Ramon reached out and viciously backhanded the other man, a sharp hard crack in the face. To his credit the man stood his ground, rocking with the blow, and when he looked again at Ramon, a mocking gleam flashed in his smile.

“It’s a little different when you pick on someone your own size—“ he replied. Something fast and incredibly painful slammed into the side of Ramon’s face; he spun, hitting his chin on the edge of the counter. Hamster food rattled everywhere, and spilled to the floor from the split ten pound bag.

“You’ve just made a mistake, hijo de perra, a BIG one!” Ramon hissed, quickly rolling up and facing the man again. With an athletic vault, the other man pressed his hands on the counter and leaped over to face him. Ramon swung. It was a good blow, hard and true, years of training behind it. The blonde grunted and swayed as the fist caught him in the stomach but still didn’t go down. Ramon lashed out with a foot, gloating; this idiot was going to be taking his teeth to a dentist in a bag.

“Oh THAT’S it, you’re obviously going to do this the hard way—“ the man chuffed, furious but wary. He dodged Ramon’s foot and reached out to the display of leashes. Swinging one, he managed to whip it across Ramon’s face, leaving a red welt on his cheek. Ramon hissed. The other man twirled the leash, letting the heavy metal clasp whiz in the air.

“One good hit and I could put your eye out—“ he warned, a bit breathlessly since the punch in the stomach still left him winded. Ramon lifted his chin haughtily. Time to try another tack.

“You wouldn’t DARE, not if you care for the woman as much as you claim to. I could make life very hard on Rose if you even TRY to claim I instigated this.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I know things about her brother—things that shouldn’t be widely known. Secrets that could get him killed, and it would be a pity if Rose thought YOU were the reason it happened.”

A look of revulsion passed over the blonde man’s face. He stared at Ramon.

“You bastard. You’d DO it, too, wouldn’t you?”

Ramon merely smiled. He reached up and straightened his tie, running a hand over his cheek where the welt was starting to darken.

“So we understand each other. When I come back, I expect to see Rose. Alone.”

His nearly perfect exit was spoiled as he bumped into a slender dark-eyed man hovering in the doorway. With a brusque push Ramon grunted something that might have been an apology and left the shop, climbing into the Rolls without a backward glance.

“That one’s a total charmer. Looks like he got a few good shots in. Are you all right, MacGyver?”

“Sore but I’ll live, thanks for asking,” he muttered to Murdoc as they watched the Rolls pull away. Sebastian sighed, crossing his arms in his elegant way, staring out the window.

“The trouble with you, MacGyver, is that you’re such a Boy Scout. Anyone else would have beaten the crap out of that man, but not you, no, that’s not the honorable thing to do. You waited until he struck first, and even then you warned him. So noble. So upstanding.”

“Murdoc—“ Mac sighed himself, slowly getting the broom and dustpan from behind the counter, “There are things you don’t understand.”

“Oh I understand perfectly darling. Blackmailers are the scum of the earth, and when they have a streak of bully in them they’re that much worse. I believe Mr. Munoz has done enough damage to Ms Clowderbock already, don’t you?”

“Murdoc—“ a world of frustration leaked out in the hiss of his name. Mac shot the man a weary look. Sebastian smiled.

“Yes or no, MacGyver—“

“Yes of COURSE he has. But—“

“No buts.” Sebastian flipped open a cell phone and pressed a button, then spoke softly into the receiver.

“Faccia che cosa prende, Lorenzo -- niente è proibito a. Abbia divertimento. Ciao.”

Mac narrowed his eyes as he watched Sebastian, who gave a careless little smirk. He held out a hand, and in it sat a wallet.

“When Mr. Munoz returns, it WILL be for the last time, MacGyver.” He rolled his eyes. “No death, I promise you that, but you’ll have a final chance to deal with him. Good enough?

Mac thought of Rose and nodded, grimly.

*** *** ***

Boris looked out the car window, letting his gaze sweep up the streets and back down again, sighing.

“You SURE, Rose? Charlotte’s got a point, you know—the last thing Grove Hollow needs is a resident biker.”

“Look, you can’t stay with mom and dad, not with the Mongols coming around—Mom would have a coronary, and probably blow your cover within two minutes. What could be more natural than hanging out at your sister’s while you recuperate, right? Besides, I’ve got a one story place so you don’t have to deal with stairs like you would at home.”

Boris looked down at the thick cast engulfing his leg from shin to toes and gave a conceding little nod.

“Logical. But I want you to understand that I’m going to have some unsavory visitors, BR—not exactly the cleanest, sweetest bunch of guys. I mean, Wolf Daddy was talking about hiring a hooker for me as a get-well present—“ Boris winced. Rose tried not to giggle and her brother reached over to lightly bop her shoulder.

“Not funny, BR—“

“Yes it is— it would be like giving ME a jockstrap—“

“Keep that up and you’ll be wearing one on your HEAD—“

Rose pulled up in front of the diner and parked the truck, sighing.

“To be honest, Bear man, it will be good to have you around. I haven’t seen Ramon since he ditched me at the hospital, but he’s been here in town, and it makes me a little uneasy. He’s not going to hurt me, but—“

“--But he’s an asshole.” Boris finished flatly. The two of them shared a sour smile, and then Rose climbed out, fishing for the crutches from the back. Boris managed to brace himself on the truck as he took them from her, and they walked into the diner together.

“You’re back—“ Harry commented with a small smile, looking up at Boris.

“There on my hospital bed, well, it was tender and precious memory of your meatloaf that kept me going—long loving dreams of hot juicy slices covered with gravy, surrounded by fluffy potatoes—“ Boris intoned, looking wistful. Harry laughed, and Lucy burst into peals of giggles, stepping forward to hug him. Rose led him to a front booth and they slid in, Boris barely fitting.

“It’s a nice little town—“ he muttered to Rose, even as his gaze strayed through the big glass window to the shops across the street. Rose followed her brother’s gaze.

“He doesn’t open until around eleven unless it’s by special request,” Rose murmured, her tone all too innocent as she quickly studied her hands. Boris pinkened slightly.

“Rose—“ he warned. Rose batted her eyes meaningfully, and Boris tried to frown, but couldn’t quite do it, not with the look his sister was giving him.

“He sent flowers. And a Gameboy. Play your cards right Bear and you could have a date for the prom—“ she teased. Boris rumbled under his breath.

“Just drop it, okay? I’m not so damn easy I can be bought, you know.”

“Eight game cartridges. Eight!”

“Shut UP.”

Wisely Rose clamed up just as a steaming plate slid in front of Boris, fragrant and savory. He sighed appreciatively and dug in as Rose propped her chin in her hand and watched him, smiling.

After twenty minutes or so, they both looked up as a car came screeching down the street, recklessly pulling up between the Curl Up and Dye and the pet shop. Rose tensed. Boris gritted his teeth as they both watched Ramon Munoz climb out and storm his way to the shop.

“Oh man this is going to be ugly. I’ve been ditching his calls, but he’s obviously spotted the truck—“

“Stick with me—the little shitweasel isn’t going to try anything if I’m right here—“ Boris muttered, but Rose shook her head.

“I’ve got to go stop him taking things out on Hudson, Bear man—it’s not fair to make the kid run interference for me all the time. Back soon—“ she patted her brother’s hand and scooted out of the booth. Feeling helpless, Boris watched her through the window, growling a little. He tensed as she opened the door of the shop.

“I hope I haven’t missed anything good, have I?” came a soft purr over his shoulder. Boris looked up to see Sebastian leaning over him to look out of the window.

“You’re good—how’d you get in without being spotted?”

“Darling, I’ve been behind you the whole time—why do you think your sister was smirking so much?” Sebastian gave Boris a warm smile. Boris clamped his jaw, but before he could say a word, there was a resounding crash from across the street. Someone had gone through the plate glass window of Clowderbock’s Creature Comforts at substantial velocity, landing on the sidewalk. All over the diner, patrons looked up and scurried to the windows or doors, murmuring. Harry reached for the phone.

“Jesus—“ Boris struggled to rise to his feet, but Sebastian placed a firm hand on his big shoulder, keeping him down.

“Ah-ah—this is one battle you mustn’t win for your sister. She’s got a champion of her own, Boris my sweet.”

“Ramon won’t fight fair,” Boris growled, frustration in his deep voice. “He’s a son of a bitch that way.”

A crowd had begun to form on the sidewalk. Out of the pet shop door sailed MacGyver, sporting a bloody nose and a grim smile. Ramon was up from the ground already, dropping into a fighting stance. Rose was clinging to the doorframe, too smart to distract either of them, but there were more murmurs at the sight of her torn blouse.

“Oh dear, a laying on of hands—that’s got to be what’s provoked our local pacifist into pugilism—“ Sebastian observed. Ramon swung his right, but Mac dodged and countered with his own, which held something large and round. Boris leaned forward, nose practically on the glass.

“Damn, that looks like—“

The resounding clang could be heard up and down Fairhaven Avenue; a reflexive wince rippled through the crowd.

“--A heavy duty stainless steel dog bowl, yes---two pounds of cold metal swung by a righteously angry man makes QUITE an impact.”

But not enough of one; although the blow rocked Ramon back and left him dizzy, he managed to stay on his feet and reach into his jacket pocket. Sunlight glinted off the five inch blade he waved in little circles at MacGyver’s face. A collective gasp went up, but at the sight of the knife, Rose recklessly launched herself forward, pushing past Mac to shove one small hand on Ramon’s chest. The sound of sirens started to grow louder.

“Don’t you DARE threaten him!”

“He struck me, Rhose, and I take that from NO man!”

“You never fight men, Ramon, only women, and always on your own terms! I’m sick of it! When the cops get here I’m filing charges so help me God!”

Someone applauded; Ramon hissed.

“A minor matter as you well know. And aren’t you forgetting your brother?”

Rose crossed her arms over her chest and sighed. The police cruiser pulled up and part of the crowd backed away. Mac tried to step in front of Rose but she swatted at him.

“You mean that ridiculous story about him being some sort of undercover narc? Give me a break! Ramon, if the Mongols ever heard you accusing one of their blood members of something like that, you’d be marked for death.”

“But it’s true—“

Rose snorted, looking up as a thin African American officer got out of the cruiser, followed by his partner, a powerful looking blonde woman.

“All right, I want this street cleared immediately. Murphy, help these nice folks with that—“ came his calm voice of authority. Immediately the crowd began to disperse, some grumbling, a few laughing. Ramon tried to brush bits of glass off of his sports coat with little success, dropping his knife to the ground in a gesture of rare intelligence.

“I’m officer Rhome—does someone want to tell me what’s going on here?”

Boris shot a look a Sebastian and held out his hand; the crutches were handed to him and he worked his way up onto them.

“Really love, are you SURE you want to see this?”

“Sebastian baby, I HAVE to—not only is that my kid sister, I have part ownership of that damn shop.”

“Ahh—“

Carefully the two men left the diner and crossed the street towards the small group on the sidewalk.

“—And when he grabbed Rose, uh, Ms Clowderbock I lost my temper, I admit it,” came Mac’s low confession.

“He charged me like a bull, officer! He was a madman, a loco a la cabeza!” Ramon snapped. “One minute I am trying to talk to my fiancée and the next I am through the air—“

“Really?” Rhome’s bored yet polite tone indicated he had his own opinion of the situation as Ramon tried to nudge the knife out of sight with his foot. Rose caught sight of her brother approaching and shook her head slightly, but Boris lumbered forward.

“What the hell is goin’ on here? Rose is that stupid bastard sniffing around again!?” Boris bellowed. Rhome eyed the enormous man and his brows went up; Murphy tensed but Sebastian laid a hand on her shoulder.

“And you are--?” Rhome asked. Boris locked eyes with Ramon.

“The lady’s brother, and I can vouch that this asswipe’s NOT her fiancé. Not anymore.”

Murphy read Ramon his rights and proceeded to cuff him as Rhome took statements and confiscated the evidence. After a while, Sebastian pointed with his chin to the car parked illegally in front of the pet shop.

“I believe that’s Mr. Munoz’s vehicle.”

Rhome eyed it, not