by Cindy Combs
Authors notes: This story is part of my The Sentinel/MacGyver Series, set after 'The Promise of Christmas Future' and 'Chance Destiny', and before 'A Christmas to Belong'. It is also crossed with Stargate:SG1, set approximately between Season 5 and Season 6, and contains major spoilers for the fifth season episode, 'Meridian'.
If you are unfamiliar with my series, I recommend you either read the first five stories ('The Maze', 'Control', 'Coatlicue', 'Ares Bugle' and 'Heirs to a Nightmare'). In addition, original character Cory Buchanan is introduced in 'Follow the Tiger'; Ian in 'The Promise of Christmas Future'; and Amanda Chambers in 'Mishaps with Dinner'. How Jack O'Neill meets MacGyver is in 'Weardians and Witans'.
Sorry this story took so long. Work picked up over the summer, and I was too pooped to do much writing. Hopefully, I've struck a balance again.
As always, I wish to thank several people. To Zadra, who's always there to lend an ear; Shallan who is great at brainstorming and helps to keep me on track military-wise; Toni Rae for pep talks and brainstorming sessions; Ian's self-declared Godmummy Sealie, for all her encouragement, beta'ing, and keeping Amanda British; Ian's self-declared Auntie Robin for beta'ing, Teri and the rest of the Crossgate list for help answering my all-important questions (like the location of Jack O'Neill's cabin); and as always wolfpup, who gives my stories such a happy home.
Please send any comments to [email protected].
Enjoy the ride.
Disclaimer: Most of characters are not mine. I'm borrowing them out of deep reverence, affection and respect. I will accept only personal fulfillment, and no monetary gain. If you do sue, you will not get much and I will send over my graying Black Lab mix, who will stare at you pathetically for hours, sleep on your couch, and probably con you out of all your food.
Please do not reproduce, copy, or otherwise use any part of this story without permission from the author. A copy for personal use is allowed.
* * *
REVENGE FOR THE SCORPION
C.L. Combs
* * *
MacGyver's firehouse, Los Angeles, CA
"...Five knives, Dad. They missed five!"
Seated at the kitchen table, MacGyver could only shake his head as he listened to his son describe the latest airport safety test. Cory Buchanan was leaning against the counter holding a cup of green tea. His face was just as grim as his partner's.
Waving his arms, Sam continued, "Admittedly, a couple were hidden pretty well, but one was so obvious, Ian could have spotted it."
"Me, Daddy?" the three-year-old piped up from his booster seat.
Sam's face immediately softened. He ruffled his son's blond curls. "Yeah, buddy, you. You're way smarter than some of the people Daddy has to work with."
"Unca Cowee?"
Mac suppressed a laugh as Cory lifted his eyebrows, waiting for Sam's response. Sam paused a moment before shooting a smirk in his friend's direction. "No, not Uncle Cory. He's way smarter than me."
"Good answer," Cory replied.
A muffled ring interrupted the proceedings. Both Cory and Sam started reaching for their pockets, only for MacGyver to wave them off. "Mine. I'll take it in the other room." He met Sam's eyes, then glanced at Ian, indicating that Sam should take the time to be with his son.
Sam nodded that he had received the message. "Hey buddy, what'd you eating?"
Happy that his family was back home, Mac flipped open his phone and greeted, "Hello."
"Gus?"
Only his double, Colonel Jack O'Neill, ever called him Gus. Mac sat in one of the living room chairs. "Jack! How's it hanging?"
For a moment, there was only dead air. Frowning, Mac was about to repeat his friend's name when the gruff voice softly stated, "I had to let him go."
Catching the weight of the words even though he didn't understand, Mac stood back up and headed for the privacy of his bedroom. "Had to let who go?"
The voice cracked slightly. "Daniel."
Mac's gut twisted. He had noticed the deep friendship between his double and the scientist. It reminded him a lot of his son Blair's friendship with his partner, Jim Ellison. Something was very wrong. "What do you mean you let him go?"
"Danny didn't have any family, so I was his medical power of attorney."
The implication of the past tense wasn't lost on Mac. Closing his eyes, he asked quietly, "Can you tell me what happened?"
"Not really. Let's just say Daniel got too close to radiation." There was a pause. "He, he was in pretty bad shape. The others wanted to try... some things... but Danny asked me to let him go."
MacGyver swallowed hard as he sat on his bed. He knew how horrible dying from radiation poisoning could be. It wasn't difficult to imagine the situation Daniel and Jack had been in. "I'm sorry."
"It happens."
"How are you holding up?"
"Stuff's been pretty tense, so we've been keeping busy since... well, the last couple of months."
Mac frowned. Didn't the Air Force give people time off for grieving? Or was their secret war against dangerous aliens going that badly? Mac wasn't sure he wanted to know.
"I keep telling myself that it's what he wanted." Another pause commented louder than words that Jack was trying not to second-guess the decision. "Besides, I've got to keep it together this time. Carter and Teal'c are depending on me."
Noting the 'this time', Mac softly pointed out, "You're human, Jack. You have to grieve, too."
"Yeah."
Mac waited. If Jack wanted to talk, he was there. However, forcing him might drive his friend away, and Mac wasn't sure he had many other sources of support outside Stargate Command.
Finally, Jack offered, "I've got a few days off starting tomorrow. My C.O. is lending me his place in the mountains. Thought I'd go fishing."
Mac nodded to himself. He couldn't think of a better way to deal with the loss. "My grandpa always said a man could never do enough fishing."
"Yeah." Another pause echoed across the phone line. "Wanna come?"
The decision was instantaneous and heartfelt. "I'll take the first flight out."
* * *
Somewhere in New York, NY
She tossed her bag onto the counter, smiling. She would never have to go to that horrible little job again. With her target dead, she was able to quit due to 'emotional stress'. While the contract was profitable, she was more than ready to move on. She could only take mousy clothes and boring typing for so long. Turning to a mirror, she decided she would have to dye her hair again. The blonde locks were just not her. She popped out the green contact lenses. That was better. She had missed her hazel brown eyes.
Now she could focus on her pet project. She walked into her bedroom and stood in front of a huge bulletin board. She looked at the picture tacked to the top and felt a familiar surge of anger. He was responsible for the death of her sister. He was the reason behind everything she had done and would do.
The question was which of two avenues to pursue. Both had their pluses and minuses. She looked at the pictures on the left. The curly haired man in his early thirties was certainly handsome enough. Her initial research pointed out that he had an eye for the ladies, making him easy to attract. The challenge was that he was a cop who lived with another cop. That could complicate things.
She turned her attention to the right side. The other was also handsome, in his late twenties, and appeared to be shyer than his older brother. He might be a more solid catch. Of course, the challenges surrounding him were daunting. He traveled a lot and also lived with others, including her ultimate target. While it might be fun to float under the man's nose while dating his son, she wasn't sure how long she could keep it up without her temper igniting.
Then she tra
iled her finger across one of the pictures. A toddler was in the younger brother's arms, legs wrapped tight around his father's waist. No matter who the boy's grandfather was, the curly-haired imp deserved to have one living parent. Nor was she certain boy's mother was gone; triggering the wrath of the Deadly Rose was not something she would do lightly, no matter what was at stake. It would probably be best to leave his father alone.
She would go to Cascade, Washington.
* * *
Amanda Chamber's new townhouse, Cascade, WA
"A little to the right."
Jim and Blair, at opposite ends of a blue and brown sofa, obligingly took a step to Amanda Chamber's right.
"A little more... There. Thanks, guys!"
The two men set the piece down and pushed it against the wall. Jim shot his girlfriend a grin. "Anything else?"
"No, that's the last of it," Amanda replied. Jim stole a kiss as he walked by. "I figure next weekend I'll paint the bedrooms."
"For that, I'm going to need some more of this." Jim stepped back and gave her another, deeper kiss.
Blair smirked as he leaned against the arm of the sofa. "Hey, what do I get?"
"Pizza." Amanda stepped back and smiled at him. "I think there's a couple of pieces left."
"Nah, that's okay. I'm stuffed." Blair stood up and stretched. "And I need to get back. See ya later, Jim?"
Jim waved a hand at him as he smiled down at Amanda. Grinning, Blair walked past them to leave the three story townhouse. It was nice to see his sentinel so happy. He hopped into his Mustang, singing to his tape as he drove back home.
The good mood lasted until Blair stepped into the loft. For a moment, the apartment he shared with his friend seemed cold and isolated. Blair shook the feelings off. He was happy for Jim. Plus it was good to have some time to himself. He tossed his jacket on the hooks by the door and walked into the kitchen area. Tea would do the trick.
Blair had barely turned on the stove when his cell phone rang. Jogging back to his jacket, he pulled it out of his pocket and flipped it open. "Hello?"
"Hey, Blair."
"Sam?" The cold feeling was back. Blair wasn't sure why, but somehow he knew something was wrong. He walked over to the loveseat.
"Dad asked me to call you."
Pushing back the fear that was creeping into his throat, Blair softly asked as he sat down, "What's up?"
The sigh was audible over the connection. "Colonel O'Neill just called Dad. Man, I don't know how to say this."
"Just say it."
"Daniel Jackson has died."
Blair closed his eyes. "Oh, man."
"Yeah." There was a pause as the two brothers remembered the man. Blair knew the Egyptologist with a big heart better than Sam, but Sam had met and liked him.
"Do you know what happened?"
"No. Dad said the Colonel couldn't give him details."
"Well, their work is highly classified." Blair shuddered, remembering Botolf's stories of the aliens they fought. Did one of them kill Daniel?
"Whatever happened, O'Neill apparently had to, to make the decision about life support. Dad said it was hard on him."
"I can imagine. Daniel told me they'd been friends for years." Blair also knew that the dangers of their work would have deepened the friendship. He could understand that. He didn't even want to think of how it would feel to lose Jim. "Man, I bet Carter and Murray's hurting pretty bad, too. They've been together as a team for a while now. Did Jack mention either of them?"
"Dad didn't say. He's packing right now for Colorado."
Blair blinked. "Jack that bad off?"
"Don't know. Dad's worried, though. He's dropping everything so they can go fishing. He figures O'Neill needs someone to talk to who's not a part of the project."
"Yeah." Blair nodded. "The rest of the team looks up to Jack as their leader. Hell, from what I could tell, most of that base is either awed by or scared of Jack. All that military toughness is practically imbedded in his bones, even worse than Jim. There's no way Jack would show a hint of weakness there."
"And you think he might with Dad?"
"Maybe. With Dad being older and outside the chain of command, Jack might loosen up with him."
"Hopefully." Sam paused again, then asked, "Speaking of Jim, where is he?"
"A-Man-Da."
"She's in the States now?"
"Moved this week. I just got back from helping her and Jim arrange her furniture."
"I bet Jim's happy about that."
"Like you wouldn't believe."
Perhaps picking up on the melancholy in his brother's voice, Sam inserted, "Hey, got someone here who wants to talk with you." A couple of moments later, a high voice asked, "Unca Bear?"
Blair couldn't help it. A wide smile stretched across his face as he leaned back into the cushions. "Hi, Buddy. How you doing?"
"Good. Making a pic-toe for Daddy."
For the next few minutes, Blair chuckled as he talked with his nephew. But when he closed his phone, sad thoughts of Daniel crept back in. He could relate so well to the archeologist. Both had gone from the verbal world of academia into the physical world filled with danger. Both gave it their all to protect people whom they barely knew. All his possible futures, including triumphs, failures, wife and children, were no longer possible for Daniel Jackson. Was there a lesson in there for Blair?
* * *
When Jim stepped into the loft an hour later, he was surprised to find the lights off. Shrugging off his jacket, Jim reached for the switch, then paused. A faint glow shone from the living area. Jim took a couple of quiet steps towards the center. His partner was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the wooden floor, eyes closed as he faced a single, lit candle.
The sentinel frowned. The candle wasn't one of the colored, lightly scented ones Blair normally used for meditating. Deciding to leave his partner to his thoughts, Jim took a soft step towards the stairs to his loft bedroom.
"Jim."
Jim turned back. "Sorry. Didn't mean to disturb you."
"That's okay. You can turn on the lights."
Sentinel sight could see the sadness in his guide's face without the need for further illumination. Still frowning, Jim asked quietly, "What's wrong?"
"Got some bad news. Daniel Jackson died."
"Damn." Jim bowed his head a moment in respect. Then he looked up. "Classified?"
"Yep."
"What about the rest of the team?"
"Sam didn't know about Carter or Teal'c. But since Jack called Mac, and they're going fishing, I'm assuming the rest of the team's okay. I can't see Jack leaving if either of them were hurt, too."
"True." Jim paused, remembering things he'd rather not think about. Softly, he commented, "Fishing's probably the best thing O'Neill could do."
"Yeah. I, myself, can't believe Daniel's gone. Can't imagine how Jack feels."
"I can," Jim replied, the day his young partner had been pronounced dead by the paramedics swirling in his mind. At Blair's worried look, Jim shrugged. "Your Dad will help him. Mac has a way of talking with people."
"That he does."
* * *
Next day, Pike's Peak National Forest
MacGyver slid his duffle bag under the bed Jack had indicated was his. Slowly, he turned in a circle, taking in the nice bedroom in the two story log home. Compared to Harry's rustic cabin, it was a mansion in the woods. It was a good place to spend a couple of weeks. It was the host who might be questionable.
Jack looked worse than he had sounded over the telephone. Mac thought he could detect a limp to his step and new lines in his grim face. Other than a few polite responses, he'd barely said a word since picking Mac up at the airport. Mac hadn't forced him. He doubted he would have been in much better shape if he had been grieving one of his close friends, like Pete Thornton or Jack Dalton. He didn't even want to contemplate his condition if it had been one of his boys. He understood why words might be too difficult.
Stepping out of t
he cabin, Mac drew in a breath of clean air. Then he followed a dirt path that meandered around the cabin and onto a dirt trail. It didn't take long before a small lake became visible through the trees. As he continued down the path, he spotted his double sitting on a large rock on the shore. Jack sat with his head down, legs gently swinging over the water.
Mac paused a moment in thought. Should he intrude on his friend's solitude? They really weren't that close. Yet Jack had invited him on this trip. Perhaps he just needed someone's presence. Taking a deep breath, Mac hiked the rest of the way to the rock. Quietly, he eased himself down next to Jack. For several minutes, MacGyver took in the natural beauty around them. It was a wonderful spot.
Jack hoarsely asked, "You settle in?"
"Yep."
After another minute, Mac added. "Nice place."
"Yeah."
Mac waited a while longer before asking, "Fishing any good?"
"Depends on your definition." Mac turned slightly and lifted an eyebrow. Jack only shrugged. "Haven't actually caught anything here."
Swallowing that tidbit of information, Mac offered, "Well, my Grandpa Harry always used to say you don't fish for fish, you fish for fishing."
A ghost of a smile graced Jack's face briefly. "I think I would have liked your grandpa."
"He was kinda crotchety, but he had his moments."
"Sounds familiar."
The two men sat for a while longer, staring at the water. Mac softly asked, "You hungry?"
"Should probably eat." Jack didn't move.
Mac suddenly had insight as to how frustrated Blair must had been the Christmas Sam was missing. He slowly stood up. "I'll go see what we've got." Hiking back, he realized he had his work cut out for him.
* * *
The Next Adventure Book Store, Cascade, WA
Blair ran his fingers over the worn bindings, a familiar thrill running down his spine. There was nothing quite like exploring through stacks of books. If there was anything from his previous academic life that he missed, it was the smell of aging paper and ink as he searched for just the right volume to enlighten him. The quiet rustles of other customers blended into the background, its familiar sounds soothing away the week's tension. His regular visits to the used bookstore were a welcome counterbalance to the action and stress of being a police detective. Blair firmly believed his life needed the balance.
