The Promise Basket
By
Rose rubbed her socks against the cushions of the sofa, trying to get warm. The fire barely heated the room, and she was glad she'd worn the soft green turtleneck with her jeans.
"Let's see--the Arnold Palmer autographed biography for Pete, chocolate turtles for Helen, Mom's sweater, Mr. Pratchett's getting a CD of Beethoven-- hey Mac, what do you think Jack wants for Christmas?"
"A space shuttle," came the distracted answer. Sprawled out on the sofa, Rose looked up from her list to see MacGyver, looking far too good in his cable sweater and jeans stringing Christmas lights down the center pole of the spiral staircase. With a flourish, he wrapped the end of the cord around the very bottom, anchoring it in place with a piece of duct tape. Rose tucked her pen between her teeth and delightedly clapped her hands. Mac bowed.
"Thank you, thank you--"
"Now go turn them on and see if they work, bright boy," Rose hooted. "Betcha at least *one* of them's burnt out."
"You're too cute to be so skeptical, Brat," Mac muttered as he walked to the light switch next to the front door. One flick down and most the lights in the houseboat went out. Another switch went up, and a curvy spiral of multicolored lights began blinking down the center of the staircase. Rose made a loud 'Oooooo' sound that bordered on a giggle as not one but three lights remained black.
"I could have put money on it--" she laughed. Mac moved in the semi- darkness, but instead of going to the lights, he impishly dived over the back of the sofa, tackling Rose and knocking them both to the floor in front of the blazing fireplace. She squealed, wrestling with him until he pinned her on the rug there.
"Give up yet?" she demanded. He laughed.
"Let me get this straight--I have you dead to rights, pinned, unable to move, and you want to know if *I'm* going to give up?"
"If you submit now, I'll go easy on you--"
"Not a chance, Brat--" he kissed her nose, retrieved the Christmas list, and then flipped Rose over across his lap. Instead of spanking her however, he used the middle of her back as a desk while he looked over the page. She propped her elbows on the carpet, giggling.
"You forgot your brother--what *do* you get a famous rock star for Christmas anyway?'
"Not a rock star, a muuuusician, MacLover. Newt's a pain in the butt about the difference. I'll just get him what I *always* get him--more guitar strings and a huge bag of licorice." She reached out to play with his untied sneaker laces.
"Mmmmm," MacGyver wrote it down on the list while Rose squirmed, trying to sit up. He tapped her butt warningly with the pen before returning to the list.
"And Penny?"
"Same as Evelyn--a Vandi gift certificate--she wanted earrings the last time we went shopping--can I get up yet?"
"Certificate--" Mac wrote. "No. And your dad?"
"Pa-- gets harder every year," Rose sighed. "Last year I got him the Pulitzer winning book about the praying mantis, but I don't think I'm going to top that."
"A new field guide?"
"Honey, he's the west coast entomological authority for the US. He *writes* the field guides."
"Okay, what about socks?"
Rose made a face. "Geez, Mac, when were *you* ever thrilled to get socks for Christmas?"
"Okay, you have a point," he admitted, wincing at his own suggestion. "Something for his hobbies?"
"Let's see--they are, in no particular order: bugs, chamber music and chasing my mom around. I could manage some season tickets for the symphony maybe."
"Okay, I'll put that on the list. So that leaves you, Brat. What do *you* want for Christmas?" MacGyver shifted to let her sit up.
"Right now I'm on Santa's naughty list," she confessed as she twisted her hair up and pinned it in place with the pen. "I was supposed to a whole bunch of goodies to the office party last night and forgot. I don't think either Helen OR Evelyn is too happy with me right now."
"Hey, if you forgot, you forgot--to my way of thinking, that's just not bad enough to get on the naughty list," Mac pointed out as he plucked the pen out of her hair to write something else down on the paper. Rose sighed, shaking her tresses free again.
"It is to me. If mom finds out she might put me last in the promise basket this year."
Mac looked over at her, puzzled. "The promise basket?"
"Yeah, I told you about it, didn't I? It's a family tradition at Christmas. We all put our names in this tiny pink glass basket Mom brought with her from Odessa. We draw names, and we extract a solemn promise from whoever's name we pull out. I've pulled Dad's name two years in a row--The first time I made him promise to start an exercise program, and this time I made him promise to paint the kitchen."
"Did he do it?"
"Both of them, you bet--Clowderbocks keep their promises--that's why it's so serious. There are only two rules. First, the promise has to be something that can be done--no wishing for the impossible. The second rule is that whoever makes the promise has to do their best to keep it, even if it takes all year." Rose smiled a little, remembering.
"So what did you have to do this year?" Mac asked curiously.
"Mom made me promise to write aunt Nora every week. I feel really good about keeping that one. Newt made mom promise to learn how to use the internet, and Pa made Newt promise to write a song about crickets . . . my family's weird," she concluded, but MacGyver was smiling gently.
"I *have* to know--Did he actually write the song?"
"I expect he did, and he'll probably end up playing it for us all--Newt knows better than to mess with a basket promise. Mom writes them all down in this journal so we can't forget or change them before the year is up." Rose sighed.
Mac thought for a minute, tapping the pen on his nose as he did so. "When do you do this--New Years?"
"No, usually the day after Christmas--between the holidays, sort of. That way they're not a resolution and they're not a Christmas present. Hey, you'll see it yourself in less than a day anyway. Have you got an itinerary set yet?"
"Well--" MacGyver sighed, running a hand over his face. He frowned, thinking out loud. "I go to Pete's tonight, do lunch with Penny and Perry tomorrow, and drop off stuff for various folks as I make my way to your parent's place--sounds pretty full but I should be able to handle it. How about you?"
"I've got to wrap presents tonight, meet with Evelyn tomorrow for more shopping, give Bing the keys to the lab and get to mom's kitchen early enough to help her with the gingerbread. Doesn't sound as if either of us is going to get much rest on this holiday."
"What else is new?" Mac chuckled gently, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and nuzzling her ear. "And you're still avoiding the question, Brat--what do you want Santa to bring you?"
"A new wetsuit--one of the crush models from Bodyglove," she admitted. "I would *love* the hot pink one with black piping."
"Ouch! Hey surfer girl--you ever consider a less expensive sport like hang gliding? It might be easier on Santa's wallet in the long run," Mac mock-grumbled. Rose shook her head.
"The only way I'm going off a cliff is if you push me, so don't get any ideas, MacGyver. Don't worry, I was saving up for the wetsuit anyway." Rose stood and stretched, reaching her arms up towards the low ceiling of the houseboat.
"Back to wrapping. Got any more tape around here?"
"Yeah, second drawer under the computer--let me get it for you." Mac sauntered over to the desk while Rose took a last look at the list, muttering to herself. He reached into the drawer as casually as he could, pulled out the battered Band-Aid box there and tucked it in his pocket before rummaging for the tape.
"Seriously, Mac, what do you want to get Jack for Christmas?"
"Seriously--movie passes. I get him about thirty every year. Seems to make him happy." MacGyver made his way back to her.
Rose took the tape and handed Mac a square burgundy package with a green bow.
"Here's Pete's book--tell him merry Christmas for me too, okay?"
"Sure. You'll be here when I get back?" the question came out with the endearing shyness that made Rose tingle; it still mattered to him.
"Of course--" she put her arms around him in a quick hug. "How else am I going to get back on the nice list?"
"You know, sometimes nice is overrated . . ." he whispered, bending his head to kiss her. Rose smiled against his mouth, letting her tongue flick playfully around his questing one for a long delicious moment.
"Mmmmm. Now I'm confused again--what list am I supposed to be on?"
"Keep kissing me like that and we'll both end the naughty list-- *again*, Brat--" Mac pulled away reluctantly and reached for his jacket and scarf.
"All right, I'll be back, but don't wait up--and don't snoop!"
"Spoilsport!" Smiling, Rose picked up a roll of snowflake paper and watched him go.
*** *** ***
"Christmas with the family--sounds *serious*, MacGyver," Pete kidded in a semi-somber tone. "Are you sure you're up to this?"
"Nope," Mac admitted honestly. "I haven't done a traditional Christmas in years, Pete. You know that I usually spend it at the Mission, or donating blood or maybe with Jack--it's going to be kinda hard to join in on something customary."
"I guess--have you met Rose's parents?"
"Only her mom, briefly, back when we got rescued," MacGyver admitted. "Even then, she was kinda preoccupied with Rose, so we didn't do more than shake hands." It was late; they were finishing the last of a bottle of sparkling cider at Pete's living room table, admiring the small tree Pete had put up in his front window. On the table sat two wrapped gifts, one in pink and one in gold paper. Mac picked up the gold one and gave it an experimental shake.
"I have no idea what her dad's like, except that he's a leading authority on insects and comes from West Virginia."
"Probably the academic type," Pete murmured. "Where are they living?"
"In the foothills. It's going to be a long drive if I want to get there before the snow falls, so I better scoot. The pink one's for Rose?"
"Glad you figured out the color code there, MacGyver--" Pete smiled. "And by the way--if her dad asks you your intentions, you better have an answer ready. Something mature and sincere would be nice."
"Mature?" MacGyver gave a self-deprecating chuckle. "That's asking a lot, Pete."
"I know, but try anyway--" Pete replied, tongue in cheek. "You might mention you have a steady job, even though none of us can talk you into a haircut."
"I'll see you after New Year's Pete--" MacGyver scooped up the packages with a grin; the older man's hearty laughter followed him out.
The cold snap that the weather forecasters had been predicting finally hit, and Mac shivered as he fumbled with the door. The low moan of the wind wove through the marina, and the restless lap of the waves under the pier made it even chillier. Guiltily MacGyver stepped in and climbed the dark stairs to the loft. He spotted Rose curled up under the quilt and smiled to himself. Swiftly, Mac stripped off everything but his boxers, and climbed under the duvet. Sleepily, Rose rolled to him, draping herself across his chilly frame, her warmth seeping into his skin. Mac gave a deeply contented sigh, and shifted until Rose was practically draped over him before dropping off to sleep.
Hours later, just before dawn MacGyver woke up fuzzily, wondering why he felt so . . . aroused. Without opening his eyes, he concentrated on his other senses, savoring the responses of each of them. He could feel the bed's flannel sheets around him, soft and warm from sleep. The sweet scent of Rose's skin mingled with his own tickled his nose. Mac listened carefully. Beside him, Rose gave a low purr in her sleep, her chest pressed against his bare upper arm. Mac smiled to himself. Gently, he turned his head and feather-soft, kissed her exposed collarbone, working his way down the full slope of her breast, the satiny fabric of her thin camisole sweet under his lips. She stirred; Mac paused, waiting until her breathing became deep and regular again before continuing his slow nuzzling along her body. It was precisely the sort of intimate challenge MacGyver loved best about waking up with Rose. He could feel her begin to stir, responding to his stealthy but oh so delicate touches.
With growing intensity, Mac gradually managed to bring Rose to a half-awake stage, her restlessness more apparent. She gave a little moan deep in her throat and snuggled closer, her arms moving to hold him, but he brushed them away and continued letting his mouth travel under the hem of the top and long her flat stomach, his tongue lightly probing her belly button. Rose giggled, and defiantly rolled facedown, momentarily thwarting his sensual onslaught, but MacGyver merely grinned, and trailed his kisses across the uncovered small of her back, eliciting a quivering gasp.
"Oh--you awake?" He asked innocently, stretching out on top of her spine, resting his chin on her shoulder. She didn't answer, but rubbed back against him, shifting her hips in slow twists that made him breath harder.
"Go away--I have to be good for Santa--" came her muffled growl from under the pillow. Mac snorted in her ear before starting to nibble on it.
"It's way too late for that, Brat--although I *could* put in a positive word for you if . . ." his hands began to push the camisole up; Rose squirmed under his touch.
"Mmmmm--Hey, is that the North Pole or are you just happy to see me?" She turned her face to kiss him.
"More than happy," MacGyver rumbled back. "Wanna play some reindeer games?" She tried not to laugh, but it was too much, and she spluttered her giggles as he turned her over, peeling her out of the nightie in a few quick tugs.
"Reindeer games?"
"Shhhh--we don't want to wake the elves--" he warned, and his next kiss quickly ended any conversation. Rose quivered, feeling the heat of his mouth against her breasts, his hands skimming up the insides of her thighs. As his kisses moved south along her body, she felt her own breathing go ragged, and she slid her hands through his soft tousled hair.
"Mac--" came her whimper. He let his lips make a warm trail down her abdomen, feeling the tremble of her muscles as his hands opened her thighs. With tender skill, his tongue swirled lightly around the sensitive bud deep within her fur. Rose groaned, but Mac settled his shoulders to brace her thighs open and kissed lightly across the delicate down under his lips.
"I love the way you taste, Rose . . ." he admitted huskily. "Like honey mingled with wine," With a sigh, he bent his head down again and lapped gently.
Involuntarily, Rose's hips bucked under Mac's hands as he continued to focus his tongue deep within her velvety folds. She trembled; moments later a small glad cry escaped her throat, the sound faintly melodic. MacGyver shook his hair free of her grip, pressed a last kiss to the inside of one of her thighs and shifted to lie at her side.
"You're looking really smug right now, aren't you?" she sighed when she caught her breath again.
"Yeah," Mac admitted shamelessly, a grin in his voice. "I'm afraid so."
"Mmmmm--" Rose let her hands glide over his chest and down his stomach, her nimble fingers curling around him in a teasing stroke. He gave a low pleased rumble, rolling towards her, but she ducked his kiss, choosing to bend forward across his hard stomach.
"Rose--" came his bewildered but amused tone. "What are you--oh? Ohhhhhhh--" he trailed off into a sudden intake of breath. Rose stopped long enough to laugh softly before letting her mouth glide down over him again. Mac bit his lips, shivering as she set a leisurely pace, her mouth slick and warm, her tongue sliding against the underside of his heavy shaft. Slow relentless heat grew in the pit of his stomach, radiating down between his strong thighs. MacGyver's breathing grew rough; his hands tried to tug at Rose's shoulder as he grunted,
"Brat, stop . . . I'm . . ."
She let one of her hands slide up his damp furry chest to his mouth, gently pressing her palm against it. He groaned, licking her fingers, his body tensing. Swiftly his stomach tightened and he shuddered in three hard spasms of pure pleasure. Rose drank him in with tender swiftness, a few last tongue swipes leaving him clean. She sighed. Fumbling under the quilt, she crawled back up to snuggle against his relaxed frame. His silence was unnerving her, and she ventured to touch his chin.
"Mac--you okay?" came her timid voice. He gripped her hand and tugged hard, forcing her to roll on top of him. Mac's kiss started at her forehead and ended on her mouth.
"I think my spine melted," he murmured quietly, his voice deep and slow. "--Completely liquefied. And I love you."
"Mmmmm," Rose laid her head on his chest, the top of her head under his chin. "That's nice." One of his hands stroked her back; she could hear his steady heartbeat under her ear.
"I didn’t mean to render you speechless like that, but I thought since these might be our last, uh, reindeer games for a while--"
"--Yeah, in know--I've already packed my sleeping bag and I'm prepared to take the sofa at your parent's place. But when we get back, feel free to render me anytime. I insist--" he laughed deep in his chest and she joined in.
"--I'm sure you do, MacLover, I'm sure you do . . . " came her sleepy reply as they started to drift off.
*** *** ***
Penny Parker-Penn fairly quivered with happiness; her dark eyes shone, and the rosebud of her mouth held a new softness when she looked up at her husband. Perry Penn squeezed her shoulders in his big hands and shook his head in wonderment, his long dreadlocks swinging.
"Penny my love, you don't have to announce your condition before anyone else can even say 'hello'," he chided softly in his British accent.
"I know, but I'm sooooooo happy!" she blurted with bouncy honesty. "I can't help it, Per Bear! It's just so amazingly wonderful that I've just got to share it!"
"Penny--" slightly stunned, MacGyver stared at her, or more precisely at her stomach, which held a slight roundness now. She laughed and pulled him into an unresisting hug.
"It's okay, MacGyver--I've got half a year to go, so let me hug you while I still can. Isn't it great! Perry and I are going to remodel the entire left wing of the mansion, but of course we don't know if it should be pink or blue yet, but either one would be sweet don't you think?"
"It's--great. Congratulations, Penny," he hugged her back and smiled down at her beaming face. She rolled her eyes and sighed, the motioned for them to follow her into the huge foyer.
"Single guys are sooo weird about babies--must be a maturity thing. Honestly, the minute a girl gets pregnant they all act as if she's highly contagious and avoid her and stuff. I thought you might be different than that MacGyver, but I guess it's pretty universal."
Over the top of Penny's head, Perry gave MacGyver a sympathetic grin before interrupting his wife.
"Cut the man a break sweetheart--if it wasn't for Mac we wouldn't even have met, remember? " he reminded her softly. Penny chuckled, her dimples deepening.
"Oh yeah--" she blushed slightly, and Mac took advantage of the distraction to look out the long windows of the living room towards the view of the city below as he tried to get his thoughts together.
"So you're looking at a June baby I guess," he ventured. Perry nodded, waving to the maid to set the tray of sandwiches down on the long table.
"That's about right--Penny will be through with her next series of commercials and I'll be starting on a video for Newt's new album by then--at least that's the plan since I haven't heard from him in a month."
"Wow--suddenly that seems so--soon," he ventured weakly.
"Just around the corner, in a manner of speaking. But hey, I grew up with eight brothers and sisters, MacGyver, and I kind of miss the crowd, you know? And with my sweet Penny as a mother, you know our child is going to be gorgeous, right?"
"That's absolutely true," he agreed, and Penny sighed happily.
Rose tossed the last package in the back of the truck and turned to Evelyn, hugging her tightly.
"Thanks--if I didn't have you to help me fight the crowds, I don't know how we could have done it."
"No problem girlfriend--I've got the moves, ya dig?" Evelyn mock karate chopped the frosty air of the parking lot, and the sight of the tall bespectacled librarian going through a martial arts routine made Rose laugh. They got in the car, buckling up.
"So?" came Evelyn's patient question. Rose knew her friend well enough to hear the unspoken question and blushed.
"So, it's even now the most amazing rapport I've ever had. Sure he's still cranky and shy and has to be reminded to put the toilet seat down, but other than that--"
"Be honest, Rose. Is he--?" Evelyn started the car, revving the engine to make her point. Rose suppressed a giggle.
"Oh yeah. Frighteningly good sometimes, Ev--I keep wondering if I really deserve someone like him."
"You do," came the quick reassurance. "I just wish you two would come out and tell everyone that you're together. It's not the sort of thing you can keep secret for long."
"Maybe after Christmas--we just didn't want to jinx it, you know? Everybody remembers all those little squabbles we had, like that time I dumped that watering can on him," Rose muttered. Evelyn laughed.
"It was such a good shot too--when you got done with Mac he looked like a wet cat. Even Pete was cracking up."
"Yeah, but see what I mean? Who'd believe we'd end up together after something like that?"
"Everyone, Rose--MacGyver's always been a little too self-assured at times. It's nice to see someone get under his skin a little, and shake things up," Evelyn told her. "Besides, you needed someone too, Sweetie--thank God you dumped that Ramon fellow. You *do* know Mac was jealous of him, don't you?"
Rose shot her friend a look of mock-surprise as they stopped for a red light.
"Oh really? You mean he wasn't dropping by all those weekends because he liked the pet shop--"
Evelyn snorted. "Get real, Rose. The day you and Ramon had lunch on the foundation terrace, MacGyver was a complete thundercloud. Practically had his nose pressed to the glass, watching you two."
"Ah well, the better man won I guess," Rose ventured thoughtfully. Evelyn reached a hand over and patted Rose's shoulder.
"Have you two talked seriously about the future yet? Marriage maybe?"
Rose looked down and hesitated a moment before replying. "Not really. I think we're just taking things one at a time right now. All I want to do is get through Christmas--"
*** *** *****
MacGyver looked at the stone fence and the name on the mailbox with a squint. It seemed to match up with what Rose had written, but with the dusting of snow over everything, it was hard to read. He got out of the jeep and walked over to get a better look.
"Now Tavon, lad, use your eyes and tell me if this is our guest," came a voice. Mac looked over to see two people emerge from a small copse of trees and head towards him. He studied them as they approached.
The man in the down jacket was well over six and a half feet tall and lanky-framed, with a mournful face and half-moon glasses perched on a pointed nose much like Rose's. His heavy mustache was iron grey, and he wore his curly silver hair in a long ponytail down his back. His bright blue eyes were kindly but sharp; he looked down at the boy next to him, waiting for a reply.
The boy in the blue ski parka was young, maybe seven or so, with chocolate colored skin and bright brown eyes. He pursed his full mouth and looked at MacGyver carefully for a long moment, then nodded.
"He's blonde, and tall, and has a jeep, just like BabaLara said, so he's MacGyver," The boy piped up confidently. The man smiled, patting the boy on the shoulder.
"Three matching points--good job, lad. Run back and tell BabaLara he's here, will you?"
"Sure thing Doctor Matt!" Turning, the boy darted up the long driveway, kicking up snow as he did so. The older man chuckled and held out a callused hand to MacGyver.
"Please tell me Tavon's correct and you *are* MacGyver, or I'll never hear the end of it," he rumbled. Mac nodded, shaking the proffered hand.
"Yes sir, he's right." For a moment the two men considered each other, and broke into mutual smiles.
"Good to finally meet you. I'm Matt Clowderbock--welcome. Need a hand with your things?" Without waiting for a reply, Matt began unloading the back of the jeep, hefting the sleeping bag and backpack easily. MacGyver grabbed the carton of wrapped presents and locked up the jeep as Matt led the way.
"The kitchen is a madhouse right now, so we'd better go through the lab," Matt advised. "Follow me--" They turned along a path that led around the house to a long enclosed porch. Once inside, MacGyver marveled. The room was full of terrariums and mesh cages, with clipboards dangling near each. Three electron microscopes sat on a workbench along with a computer and a Bunsen burner. Over the connecting door to the house, buried in the middle of a collection of Far Side cartoons read an ancient paper sign: Bug Bunker. Matt stopped in front of one terrarium and sighed.
"Hippodamia Convergens--looks like my sweet girls are still chowing down on the aphids."
"Ladybugs?"' Mac guessed, peering into the glass. Matt nodded.
"Dear little ladies of the garden--not that I have a grudge against aphids or whiteflies myself, but they do distress Lara something terrible when they take over her roses," Matt scribbled something on the clipboard and picked up the sleeping bag again.
"This way . . ." the warm perfume of gingerbread drifted through the house, making Mac's stomach rumble. They made their way down a side hallway and through the living room. Matt called out in a loud deep voice.
"Lara my love, Rose's beau is here--"
"Oh!" A clatter of pans rattled out, and MacGyver watched as a delicate woman in jeans and a turtleneck sweater scurried out towards him hands outstretched.
"Mac-Gyver!" she purred in her slight Russian accent. He tried to take her hands, but she slipped her arms around him in a tight hug, and all he could do was grin down at the top of her head as she squeezed. In the doorway, Rose watched and tried not to laugh.
"You wonderful man, saving our Rose like that, I'm so grateful that you did, so smart, so clever--" she craned her head to look up at him and her eyes widened. "And handsome! Rose, you failed to tell me he was so handsome--"
"Yes I did!" Rose spluttered. Her mother winked at Mac and nodded as she loosened her grip and stood back.
"Oh yes, and I quote-- he has wonderful dimples and the sweetest brown eyes--wasn't that what you said, Briar Rose?"
"Mama!" Embarrassed, Rose dropped her face in her hands while Matt laughed. Mac blushed, looking down at Lara Clowderbock. She had deep brown eyes herself, and fine red hair touched with silver at the temples. Currently she had smudges of flour on her chin, and part of her bunned hair was falling out, leaving long tendrils along her fine neck. Mac could see where Rose got her freckles and sweet mouth, but the height had come from Matt since Lara was barely over five feet tall.
"Call me Lara, please. We're so happy to have you here--Matt, he's going in Newt's old room, right?"
"As rain, my love. Where's Tavon?"
"Watching the oven--the timer's still on the fritz and I can't trust it, not with the gingerbread."
"Maybe I can help--" MacGyver offered mildly. Lara looked at Rose, who nodded and pointed to the kitchen. Mac gave Rose a quick peck on the cheek as he stepped through the doorway and surveyed the scene.
Trays and trays of spicy warm gingerbread were cooling on practically every surface available--On a stool near the double stove, Tavon waved as he drank a glass of milk. MacGyver walked over and examined the timer dial. He took out his knife and pried the glass cover off of the dial while the boy watched him curiously.
"Looks like the hand on the timer's come loose--the dial's still turning, but the needle's slipping on the spindle--" he muttered. Rose and her mother were watching too. MacGyver slid the timer hand off and looked at the base of it, nodding. He glanced up at Rose.
"Got any egg whites? He asked softly. Lara nodded, pulling a fresh egg from the refrigerator and swiftly separating it for him. He smiled his thanks and dipped the end loop end of the timer hand in the gooey liquid. Carefully he pushed it back onto the spindle until it fit tightly, and then put the glass face back on the dial.
"There--the heat of the oven will solidify the egg albumin and make it stick tight. It's better than something like superglue, which could release some dangerous vapors at high temperatures--" Experimentally, he twisted the timer, "--how long now?"
"Ten minutes--" Tavon offered in an awed voice. The hand rested at the ten-minute mark, and slowly began to shift. Rose laughed.
"You did it again, Mac--"
"Amazing!" Lara chuckled and rolled her eyes. "Looks like you are free of guard duty, Tavon."
"That was cool," the boy admitted, staring at the dial. Mac shrugged modestly and looked around the kitchen. Lara handed him a wedge of fresh gingerbread.
"Well done, Mac-Gyver. That batch on the counters is going to the Mustard Seed clinic, the one on the table is for the homeless shelter on Donovan Street and the last one is for Miss Anne and the girls at New Start--Rose, you can help me pack them up."
Matt peeked in the kitchen and sighed.
"And it's all being given away--Never marry a communist, MacGyver--they'll claim all of this is social activism, but truly it's just being neighborly for the holidays--"
"Oh hush, Matti--we don't have time to argue it again," Lara snapped back at her husband who grinned. Rose already had foil out and was wrapping the fragrant loaves in neat packages. Mac fell in beside her to help.
"A communist?"
"Yeah, mom was--she and her older sister defected when one of the symphonies toured the states back in '58 or so--"
"--A *long* time ago," Lara broke in absently as she packed a cardboard box with gingerbread. "I hope you don't mind helping us deliver these."
"I'd love to," Mac admitted cheerfully. "Absolutely love to."