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Chapter Text

The Phoenix Foundation has dealt with a myriad of complicated situations, so when Matty announces the team will be going undercover at a fancy French resort to trick a Serbian war criminal’s party-boy son into giving away the location of his father, it sounds to Mac like a pretty average workday. 

“Bozer, you will be fake-married to an agent on loan from the CIA, Leanna Martin. You know her, right? You went to spy school together,” Matty says.

Shock shows on Bozer’s face at the mention of the agent, though he tries to play it cool with a “Uh…yeah, I kind of think I remember her.” Mac’s eyes narrow in suspicion, and while he’s pretty sure he’s not the only one who caught on to that strange reaction, Matty’s voice causes him to refocus. 

“Mac, Riley — congratulations. You two just got hitched.” 

Riley meets his gaze, a look of amusement on her face. Mac matches the smile. 

Neither agent knows this will become one of their most complicated missions yet. 

Jill is almost done setting up the camera and backdrop, ready to take some impromptu wedding portraits. Mac is already dressed, fidgeting with a paperclip as he and Bozer wait for the girls to come out in their dresses. 

“So, Leanna’s the girlfriend, right?” Mac asks abruptly, too lazy to dance around the topic. 

“What?” Bozer asks, faking surprise. “What would make you…why would-” He cuts himself off, groaning in frustration. “How’d you know?” 

“Um, maybe because you played it off terribly?” Mac responds, a smirk crawling on his face. 

“Oh God! If you noticed it then Matty had to have picked up on it!” Bozer says, panic flooding his voice. 

Mac is about to respond and attempt to calm his best friend down when the girls make their entrance. 

Leanna is dressed in a frame-fitting, hourglass-shaped dress. She looks good — that is objective fact — but Mac’s eyes focus on the woman walking behind her instead. Riley Davis looks like something from daydream. Her strapless dress hugs her tightly, accentuating her shape in all the right places. Unlike Leanna, Riley’s neck is bare, drawing attention to the delicate line of her collarbones. Her usual dark eye makeup is gone, replaced by a more casual look which highlights her natural beauty. 

Mac can’t help but stare a little. After all, it’s a rarity to see Riley in anything but dark hues in the first place, but in white? In a wedding dress? Mac can’t help but think that she looks like an angel, but he quickly interrupts those thoughts, reminding himself that this is his co-worker, and more importantly — she is his friend. It isn’t appropriate to think of her in anything but a strictly platonic light, but God, he can’t help that he’s a man with eyes…

“Hey hubby,” Riley says, flashing an easygoing smile at Mac. 

“Hello, Mrs. MacGyver,” He responds, a crooked smile forming. “Nice dress.”

“Wait until you see the fake ring they gave me! Well, fake marriage, real rock.” Riley holds out her hand and Mac takes it in his own, raising it for a closer look. 

“Wow, I must have really pulled out all the stops to get you to marry me, huh?” Mac answers, inspecting the huge diamond. 

“That’s what you gotta do when you’re marrying up, Mac,” Riley jokes.

Mac chuckles at that, and he’s unable to come up with a witty response before Jill is calling them into position for the photoshoot. 

“How do you want us?” Mac asks, standing awkwardly in front of the lens. 

Riley doesn’t wait for Jill to answer, instead grabbing his wrists and guiding his arms around her waist. She steps into him, leaning against him. She rests one hand against his chest as the other snakes up to the nape of his neck. 

“Nice,” Jill responds, readying the camera. “Can you get your faces a little closer?” She asks. 

Riley obeys, gently resting her forehead against his. “Loosen up, Mac. You’re tense,” She says. 

“Sorry. I’m not really the most photogenic.” 

Riley smiles in amusement. “Just close your eyes, breathe, and try to look less uncomfortable.”

He takes a deep breath, breathing in the smell of her perfume. He circles his arms a little tighter, allowing himself to relax against her. In truth, the tension in his muscles wasn’t because he was uncomfortable, but rather that he was decidedly not, which both surprises and worries him. He forces himself to focus on the clicks of the camera. 

“There you go,” She whispers.

“Okay, now pull back a little, look at each other, and laugh like something is funny,” Jill instructs. 

Riley pulls back a little, tilting her head up to look at him. She smiles, faking a laugh that looks more than convincing. Mac tries to match it, failing miserably at looking natural, which Riley can’t help but comment on. 

“You look like a serial murderer, Mac,” She says. 

“Since when are you so mean?” He asks, using his thumbs to jab into her sides. 

“Hey!” She twitches, scrunching up her nose at him, and suddenly their laughter is real. 

“Great! Can we get a kissing one now?”

Riley meets Mac’s eyes and he senses a sudden shyness present in her gaze that’s unfamiliar to him. He tries not to read into it. He cups her face in his hands, drawing her closer until he feels her breath against his lips. Her chest presses against his as she breathes deeply, and then she’s tilting her head, and their mouths meet. It starts soft, but then Riley is using her hand behind his head to pull him closer, and he's kissing her harder. Mac has to fight against his instincts to pull away when Jill says she got the shot she needed.  

Mac clears his throat. “Anything else?” 

“Nope! Those are perfect,” Jill responds, glancing through her photos. She turns to Bozer and Leanna. “Next couple, please.” 

“Well, I guess I’ll go get changed and double-check my equipment,” Riley says, headed for the door. 

Mac nods in response. He’s happy for the space. He needs to get his head straight before going into this op. It’s just…the way he felt with Riley in his arms — the impulse to hold her tighter, to kiss her deeper — that’s not how he should be feeling about one of his best friends. 

He chalks it up to loneliness and makes a mental note to try dating again soon.

The Chateau Elan is much more lavish than Riley anticipated with fancy hanging lights, glass walls exposing gorgeous wine country, and, of course, a whole slew of expensively dressed guests roaming the grounds. She takes it all in with a detached kind of awe as she surveys the place tactically.

Bozer breaks her focus with his nervous pacing.

“Boze,” Riley says, gaining his attention and signaling for him to turn off his coms. “Chill out, man.”

Bozer eyes Mac and Leanna — who graciously offered to check in — to ensure they’re out of earshot.

“How am I supposed to stay calm? Matty probably knows about me and Leanna! We could lose our jobs, go to prison…”

“That’s not going to happen,” Riley responds, trying to put his mind at ease.

“But it could! This could all be some sick test from Matty to see if we slip up.”

“Hey…” Riley starts, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I think you’re reading too much into this. This time with Leanna is a gift. Enjoy it.”

Bozer sighs, seemingly nodding in agreement. “You’re right. I just need to put it out of my mind.” He takes a breath and adopts a playful tone. “Hey, speaking of reading too much into things…am I crazy, or did I sense a little something-something between you and Mac earlier?” He waggles his eyebrows.

Riley rolls her eyes. “Can you go back to freaking out?”

“Nope! I wanna talk about that kiss!” He says, smirking at her.

“Oh, you mean the staged kiss for our jobs?” Riley asks, her voice dripping sarcasm.

“Look, I know you were taking instructions from Jill or whatever…but it looked like more than that to me,” Bozer says, holding up his hands in mock surrender.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She asks.

“You guys looked like you were enjoying it a little too much,” Bozer responds, chuckling.

“It’s called acting, dude,” Riley replies.

“Hey, failed film-maker here! I know acting, and that was not acting.”

“We’re just friends,” Riley answers.

“No Ri, we’re just friends,” He replies, gesturing between them. “You and Mac…y’all just seem like something else altogether.”

“What are you talking about?” She questions.

“When we first met, you immediately put me in the friend-zone. I had no shot. Zero! Remember?”

Riley cracks a smile.

“There wasn’t the possibility of our relationship turning to anything more, which was your loss, by the way,” Bozer says, a smile on his face.

“What’s your point?” She asks.

“The point is that between you and Mac, it kinda seems like there’s this potential there. This room for y’all to grow into something different,” Bozer responds, his voice edging on serious.

Riley clears her throat. “You are reading into nothing,” She denies.

Suddenly, she’s not so sure. She hadn’t really thought about it before because they really were friends, but she must admit that Bozer has a point. The relationship between her and Mac does feel…malleable. The foundation is there and if Riley is honest, there are undertones in their connection that go beyond the scope of friendship. And that kiss...God, she never wanted that to end and wished—

But Riley doesn’t have time to dwell on that.

“Targets just entered,” Leanna states as she and Mac rejoin the group. Bozer and Riley reactivate their coms.

“Ooh, they do not look happy,” Bozer says, eyeing the couple as Mia, seemingly enraged over something, points her finger in Omar’s face.

“So much for the honeymoon phase,” Riley mutters, watching the couple go back and forth.

“Figure out what’s going on,” Matty orders in their ears.

“Bozer, call my phone,” Mac states as he heads in the direction of Mr. and Mrs. Mitrovic. He drops his phone in a nearby plant and they all listen in on the argument via Bozer's phone. Riley gets a sinking feeling in her gut and hacks into Chateau Elan’s system to confirm her fear.

“Our clock just went down considerably,” Riley says as she reads Omar’s reservation. “We have two days.”

“Shit,” Mac mumbles.

The crew goes up to their rooms to drop off their equipment.

“Do you think we’ll be able to make this work?” Leanna asks, rummaging through her suitcase for her make-up bag to touch up her eye-liner.

“It was a long-shot before, but now…” Mac starts, taking a breath. “We really have to bring our A-game.”

“Yeah, all we have to do is make quick friends with a paranoid Serbian mob leader and casually convince him to give up the location of his war criminal of a father. What could go wrong?” Riley asks sarcastically.

“Ye of little faith,” Mac responds. “We’ll find a way. Now, how do we get close?”

“Maybe we should scope out the area first. See if they communicate with any other types of couples, if they show interest in certain activities, etc. and form a plan from there?” Leanna suggests.

“Sounds like a safe way to play it,” Bozer says. “We only get one shot at a first approach and we can’t blow it.”

“Okay,” Riley agrees.

“We can spilt up by couples,” Mac suggests. The group agrees, and the four start toward the elevators to head to the common areas.

Riley glances at her cell phone, where she has access to the security cameras. “They’re in the main room.”

“Dibs on hanging out by the bar!” Bozer says.

“What’s the point? It’s not like we can drink,” Leanna says.

“Maybe not, but I bet they have hella fancy snack food,” Bozer replies.

Riley rolls her eyes as the elevator doors slide open.

“Shall we?” Mac asks, offering her his arm.

Riley loops her arm through his and tries to ignore the slight flutter in her chest. “Lead the way, dear.”

Chapter Text

“They’re not looking very social,” Riley states, watching the newlyweds’ hostile interaction.

“She’s still pissed,” Leanna replies through coms. Riley glances at her. Leanna and Bozer sit at the bar, wine glasses (both full) in their hands. Bozer is eating something, though Riley can’t tell what it is from the distance. She and Mac circulate, trying to look like they’re searching for somewhere to sit.

“Can you blame her? Two days when she was expecting ten…” Bozer adds.

“I’m not seeing any good way to approach,” Mac says.

“I say give them a few minutes,” Riley says. “I know time is limited, but trying to break them up mid-fight seems like the worst possible way to get them to like us.”

“How about we regroup in ten minutes?” Leanna suggests. “That could be good prep time. Bozer and I need a cute story about how we met.”

Riley resists the urge to make a joke, as Matty could be listening in, instead turning off her coms. The rest of the gang follows suit.

“Want to find somewhere to sit?” Mac asks.

Riley spots a leather pair of chairs against the wall. “How about over there?” Riley asks. “We’d have a good view of Omar and Mia.”

Mac nods, guiding her as they walk with a hand on the small of her back. Mac sits first, and as Riley moves to sit in the chair beside him, he grabs ahold of her hand and shoots her a look. She reads what he’s suggesting, and wordlessly, she takes a seat on his lap, positioning herself at a sideways angle where she’s able to see both him and the targets. She’s sure they look very lovey-dovey to bystanders, which further establishes their cover. Mac rests one arm on the rest of chair and the other on her thigh. His hands are calloused, and she has to fight off the thought of how good they feel against her skin.

“You think we need to bother with a backstory?” Riley asks, one of her hands absentmindedly playing with the buttons on his shirt.

“I don’t see what sorting out a few details could hurt,” he replies.

“Okay. How long have we been married?” She asks.

“Hm. Let’s say this is our one-year anniversary trip.”

“Ooh, okay. Where’d you take me on actual honeymoon?” She asks.

“That’s easy. Yellowknife, Canada. It’s really quiet there and they have these amazing cabins where you can roast marshmallows and watch the aurora borealis.”

“That sounds amazing,” Riley says, picturing how peaceful it would be.

“It is! It’s a disturbance in the magnetosphere caused by solar wind-” He stops abruptly when he sees an amused smile sneaking onto Riley’s face. “You were talking about the marshmallows.”

“Yeah,” she confirms.

“Sorry,” he says, chuckling. “Solar wind gets me really excited.”

“And that’s why I married you,” she responds, poking him in the chest. He smiles in response. “Do you think that they’ll see that as being too…tame and un-extravagant for their tastes?” She asks.

He thinks for a moment. “I guess it depends how we frame it.”

“So leave out the part about the magnetosphere?” She teases.

“Yeah,” he answers, laughing. “We should probably just say we wanted a private and off-the-grid location. With how secretive they are, I bet they’d like that.”

“Then that’s settled,” she says.

“How’d we fall in love?” He asks.

“Oh, it was love at first sight,” Riley responds, as if the answer was obvious.

“So, I just looked at you and knew?” He asks.

“Without a doubt.”

“So corny.” He grimaces.

“This is for shallow people, Mac,” she responds.

“Fine, fine…where’d we meet?” He asks.

She thinks for a moment. “The arcade.”

“The arcade?”  

“Yep.”

“I thought we were coming up with a story for shallow people?” He teases, throwing her earlier words back at her. “Doesn’t that seem a little too down-to-earth?”

“Oh, absolutely not. You see, you were there because you were considering buying the property for a business venture. I, however, was there on a terrible date with my terrible boyfriend, Jake.”

“This seems like a complicated story already.” Mac laughs.

“Shush,” Riley says, playfully. She swats gently at his chest, and he holds up a hand in mock surrender, gesturing for her to continue. “You saw me standing there, looking bored out of my mind, and thought ‘wow, I just have to know her.’ So, you walked over to introduce yourself to me, but Jake told you to get lost.”

“I’m assuming I didn’t listen,” Mac replies, absentmindedly drawing with his pointer finger against her leg.

“Oh, absolutely not. You challenged him to a skee-ball match, saying that you’d pay for the date we were on if you lost, but that you were leaving with his girl if you won.”

Mac laughs at that, dimples forming in his cheeks.

“And the rest, as they say, is history,” Riley finishes, a playful smirk on her face.

“That story is just ridiculous enough that they would have to believe it,” Mac says, still smiling.

“You’re right, it is a little ridiculous.” A second passes. “You’ve never beaten anyone at skee-ball.”

“Hey!” Mac protests, mocking anger. “Take it back!”

Riley leans closer to him and answers in a whispered taunt. “Make me.” She means it jokingly, but the moment the words come out of her mouth, she realizes it sounds much flirter than intended.

He’s silent as he scans her face slowly. There’s something in his eyes that take Riley by surprise, and she physically feels the mood shift. Everything had been lighthearted before, and she had gotten distracted in the ease of the conversation, but the heat of his stare makes her aware of the little space between them. Of the imprint of his hand on her leg. Of his warmth of his breath against her lips. There’s a tension between them now — a gravitational force begging them to bridge the small gap that divides them — and Riley can tell that Mac is just as affected by it as she is. She can feel the rise of his chest and she allows herself, for a second, to be overcome by the thrill of the moment. God, his gaze alone feels more intimate than any of her previous experiences. All he is doing is looking at her, and yet she feels more exposed than if she was naked.

A voice in her ear pulls her back to reality.

“Riley, Mac, I think I have an idea on how to make the approach,” Bozer says.

The spell is broken, and Riley and Mac get up and head to the bar. They put on a big show when greeting each other, making it look as if the two couples had never met before.

“So, how are we going in?” Mac asks in a hushed voice.

“We’re not. We’re going to get them to come to us,” Bozer replies.

Riley raises an eyebrow at him and waits for clarification.

“It’s a trick I used in college on the ladies. Like bees to a honeycomb!” Bozer replies with a sideways smile.

“You were a player in college?” Leanna asks, suddenly more interested in Bozer’s past than the plan.

“First of all, he went to film school.” Mac starts.

“And secondly,” Riley adds, “he wishes he was a player. From what I’ve heard, he got no women.”

Leanna laughs at that, soothingly rubbing Bozer’s shoulder in pity as he attempts to defend himself.

“Hateful lies! Anyway,” Bozer says, attempting to refocus the group, “the move is simple. Crank up the music and offer free shots. No one can resist booze with the Boze!”

“Give it up, man,” Riley says.

Bozer rolls his eyes, turning to the bartender to procure a bottle of whiskey. Riley vaguely hears him whisper something about Matty money, but she turns her attention to a new issue.

“Don’t you think that drinking while on an op sounds like a poor idea?” She asks.

“Not if we don’t get drunk,” Mac replies.

“Look, I’m no lightweight, but if we start throwing back liquor like it’s water, I’m going to end up blacked out on the bathroom floor next to a trashcan,” Leanna says.

“Spoken like someone with experience,” Riley teases.

“Don’t act like you haven’t been there!” Leanna responds.

“Oh, we’ll be drinking, but don’t worry, we’re staying sober,” Mac says as Bozer passes out the shot glasses and begins to pour.

“Care to explain?” Leanna asks.

Mac grabs a small bottle from his coat pocket and shows it off to the group.

“Eyedrops?” Riley asks, confused.

“Alcohol dehydrogenase,” Mac corrects.

“And for those of us who had a public-school education?” Leanna asks, a sheepish smile on her face.

Mac cracks a smile. “Alcohol dehydrogenase is the enzyme that breaks down the booze in your bloodstream.” Mac squirts a drop in each shot glass as he explains. “With a few household items and an hour in the lab, I was able to make enough to make sure none of us get drunk.”

“Boo,” Boozer replies jokingly.

“Well, bottoms up,” Mac says, raising his shot glass. The group mumble a cheers and clinks glasses.

“By the way, the hangover is gonna make you wish you were dead,” Mac says before downing the shot. Riley chooses to worry about that later, drinking the whiskey. It doesn’t have the most pleasant taste, and Riley thinks that it isn’t worth the burn in her throat if she can’t even get tipsy.

Time to implement part two of the plan, Riley thinks. She reaches into her purse for her phone and pulls up one of her favorite songs to move to. She hands her phone to the DJ, politely asking if he minds doing her the favor.

“What’s that?” Mac asks, a curious look on his face.

“You’ll see,” Riley replies, laughing. Mac smiles back at her and shakes his head a little, and then the classical music playing shifts suddenly to something much more upbeat.

They’re all dancing together, having a grand time, and it takes almost no time at all for other couples to join. They share the whiskey, and it seems to be enough incentive because before long, Mia and Omar approach them.

“Can we join?” Omar asks, sporting a smile Riley had yet to see. Mia holds up her glass of red and begins to move to the music. Bozer welcomes them by handing them shots, which they quickly accept. It all goes swimmingly after that. They’re all drinking and dancing and drinking some more…and at some point she winds up dancing with Mac, her back to him and his hand on her hip. It’s all very PG-13, but she finds herself wishing the alcohol was affecting her so that she’d have the excuse to revel in the moment. She finds herself wishing it was all real.

They spend the whole day with their targets, yet have little luck at Omar opening up enough to talk about his dad. By dinner time, Mac is feeling pretty exhausted; after all, he has been splitting his attention. He was focused on the mission, sure, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t allow himself to get side-tracked a time or two. Riley was distracting enough in that tight silver two-piece. It allowed a generous view of her breasts and abdomen and while he tried to be a gentleman and not look, it proved more difficult than anticipated. The clothing was skintight and while it left little to the imagination by accentuating the shape of her body, let’s just say his imagination was…active.

And on top of that, she was dancing. As if it wasn’t torture enough earlier with her leaning against him when she was sitting in his lap, now he had to watch her dance. She looked so happy and carefree, and he found himself fighting to keep his distance. He tried to pretend like things were normal — like she wasn’t driving him crazy — but then he realized that this woman was supposed to be his wife, and it would actually be okay — better, even — to give in for a bit. You know, really sell it. He walked the moral tightrope for a minute, wondering if he was being selfish by taking the opportunity to be so close to her, but then figured if he removed what he wanted from the situation that it was the best decision tactically as well, and so he winded up dancing with her in his arms.

He forces his mind to focus on the present as they sit around the dinner table.

Mia is clinking her spoon against her champagne class, seemingly preparing to make a toast.

“We didn’t get to do any of this at our wedding,” she starts, “You know, because we got married in a pool. So, let’s agree that every time someone clinks a glass, we all have to kiss, okay?”

God. She was trying to kill him.

Mac matches the groups smiles, faking enthusiasm. Mia and Omar go first with a painfully loud smooch, and agents giggle awkwardly.

“I’ll take any opportunity to kiss my lady,” Bozer responds, a wide smile on his face. It’s obvious that he means the sentiment, and Mac finds himself smiling too. He’s happy for his longtime friend; Bozer and Leanna are great together, and Bozer deserves that. The couple clink their glasses and share a short, but sweet, kiss.

Riley turns to face Mac, holding up her glass for him to cheers, which he does. Mac smiles at her and she matches it as she leans toward him. Their lips touch gently, and he finds himself a little slow to pull away, hovering for a moment after. He smiles at Riley, bringing his champagne flute to his lips. He’s starting to really wish he hadn’t had the whole eyedrops idea. Mia and Omar are flirting and kissing again, and Mac finds himself studying Riley’s reaction. Her eyes are averted at the table, but there’s a soft expression on her face. He can see a small tug at the corner of her lips as she seemingly attempts to minimize a smile. Something about all of this — about being with her — feels extremely natural to him. Safe. Comfortable. For the first time in a while, he feels content. The weight of the world doesn’t seem quite so burdensome. He wonders if she feels that way too.

Earlier, he had tried to deny it…tried to convince himself that these feelings bubbling inside him were a natural chemical reaction. That he was a man looking at a beautiful woman and the attraction he felt was just human nature. But the more he looked at her and thought about her, the more he realized it was much deeper than that. She’s a sounding board for him. A shoulder. A guide in the wilderness. A light in the darkness. One of his best friends. She brings him peace and joy and hope and if he’s honest, he feels like maybe, just maybe…her hand is the one he’s meant to hold.

He takes a breath. He decides in that moment to talk to her later, sometime when they’re off the clock. With that choice made, he’s able to divert his attention back to the conversation at hand.

“So this is your honeymoon too?” Mia asks Leanna and Bozer.

“Yep!” Leanna answers, flashing a sweet smile at her pretend-hubby.

“Well, congratulations to the newlyweds,” Riley says, raising a glass in their direction.

“Have you two been married long?” Omar asks.

“A year,” Mac answers.

“Tomorrow is actually our anniversary,” Riley says, gently nudging Mac. He tilts his head toward her, amused.

“Where’d you spend your actual honeymoon?” Mia asks.

“Yellowknife, Canada.” Riley and Mac say at the same time. They share a look and genuine laugh, both suddenly grateful to have gone over this earlier.

“What’s there?” Leanna asks, twirling pasta on her fork.

“Honestly, not much. Some beautiful landscapes and secluded cabins, mostly. It was pretty quiet.” Riley answers.

“You spent your honeymoon in the woods?” Mia asks, shock soaking her tone.

“Huh?” Riley asks, a smirk pulling at the corners of her lips.

“Seriously, what kind of location is that? Like, here there’s yoga and massages and making your own wine…what did they offer there for entertainment — hiking and campfire-building?” Mia seems to be trying to mask her disgust, but does a poor job.

Riley leans in closer to her, as if about to tell a secret, and raises her eyebrows at Mia. “We wouldn’t know.”

Mia’s expression shifts to a smirk. “What, didn’t leave the bed?”

Riley responds without missing a beat. “Oh, we left the bed. For the shower. The kitchen counter. The floor next to the fire. Ooh, and the front porch swing.”

Mac chokes a little, and does his best to cover it by taking another sip of his drink. His brain is eager to conjure up images, and he forces his mind to stay focused on the mission at hand.

Mia giggles. “Sounds romantic.”

“It was,” Riley responds, glancing at Mac with a smile gracing her lips.

Damn, he wishes he could feel the whiskey.

The rest of the night is ridiculously unsuccessful. Mac swears to Riley that he and Bozer were so close to getting vital intel on Boris Mitrovic from his Omar before the girls returned from the bathroom and his bride whisked him to bed. They’d just have to try again in the morning.

The group take turns changing and brushing their teeth in the bathroom to get ready to sleep. There’s one bed and one pull-out couch in the room and while HR would probably recommend they sleep boys together and girls together, it’s clear how much Bozer and Leanna want to be near one other. Riley and Mac agree to take the other couch, though Riley narrows her eyes at Bozer and demands that no funny business occurs with them all sharing a room.

Bozer and Leanna fall asleep pretty quickly, their bodies all intertwined. Riley can’t help but think it’s cute. She’s glad Bozer found someone, and not just because she was eager for him to move on from her. He’s a good person, and Leanna seems equally as kind, and she’s excited for them. She’s a little jealous that they look so happy when she’s feeling so conflicted within her own love life, but she pushes it down and gets under the blanket.

Mac joins her soon after. There’s a gap between them, and they face away from one another. Riley tries not to think about who she’s sharing a bed with, instead closing her eyes and begging for sleep to come.

It doesn’t.

She stares at the ceiling for a ridiculous amount of time, practically feeling every minute pass by. There’s a little light coming in from under the door and through the windows, and after a while, her eyes adjust. She’s about ready to start counting the ceiling tiles. She glances across the room at the big red numbers on the clock. It’s been forty minutes. She internally groans and flips over. To her surprise, Mac is facing her. His eyes are closed and his face is relaxed, and she finds herself studying his features. He looks so peaceful. And handsome. Definitely handsome.

She’s surprised when she hears his voice. “Can’t sleep either?” He asks. His eyes slowly open and he’s looking at her.

She finds herself answering before her brain catches up. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

It’s a second before he answers. “Me too.”

Riley takes a breath, but the tension isn’t dissipating, so she starts to get up off the couch. “I’m going to take a walk…hopefully that will get me tired enough to go to rest.”

“I’ll go with you,” He answers, his voice quiet. She starts to say no, but he cuts her off. “Matty would have my head if I let you walk alone at night while on an op.”

He’s right, of course. She agrees. Riley slips on some shoes before meeting Mac at the door. She tries to ignore the irony of him joining her when he was the one clouding her thoughts in the first place.

They walk in silence for a little, heading straight out of the building and to outdoor patio behind the main building. There’s a pleasant chill in the air, the stars are beautiful, and Riley takes the opportunity to appreciate it all.

“Riles?”

“Yeah, Mac?” Riley responds, turning to look at him. He seems almost anxious, and that realization has her stomach nervously knotting.

“Can I be honest with you about something?” He asks, a sheepish expression on his face.

“Always,” she answers.

He’s quiet for a moment, seemingly searching for the right words as they walk. He’s struggling, and so Riley grabs him by the arm, forcing him to stop and face her.

“Talk to me. What’s this about?” She asks, her eyes scanning his face.

“Us.”

The single word sends a shock through her, and she feels like she’s short-circuiting. A million feelings crash together all at once, but she doesn’t have time to process them as she feels the  prick in her neck and the world around her fades.

Chapter Text

The first thing Mac registers is the chill of metal against his skin. He feels groggy. He hesitates to open his eyes, scared light will make his pounding headache worse, when he realizes his memory is a little swimmy. He expected a hangover from hell after the alcohol dehydrogenase drops they used to avoid getting drunk, but this particular hangover couldn’t possibly be accompanied with black-out moments. He forces his eyes to stay closed, despite his desire to survey his surroundings. Was he knocked unconscious? Drugged? The last thing he remembered was going on a walk with Riley.

Shit! Riley. God, he hopes she’s not with him.

Mac forces his brain to focus. He can tell he’s sitting in a stiff metal chair and that his hands seem to be handcuffed to something in front of him. The air feels damp and he’s pretty certain the room is fairly dark. He could be in a basement, maybe? Mac was confident he had seen storage rooms in the floor plans they’d looked at for The Chateau Elan. He listens for movement, but all he hears is the quiet stirring of a nearby fan. He’s more conscious now, and becomes aware of a dull pain in his neck. So he had been injected with something. He’s creating a short list of drugging possibilities in his head when the silence around him is broken.

“I know you’re awake,” the voice says. “Your breathing changed.” Mac clocks it instantly.

“Omar,” Mac says, opening his eyes. “What the hell happened?”

He’s in room with white cinderblock walls. The space looks like it used to be a cellar, but the mostly empty racks and flickering lights indicate a lack of use in recent years. Mac takes a second to analyze the situation. His hands shackled in front of him to wine rack. Omar stands in front of him, leaning nonchalantly against the wall. A quick look to the right confirms his fears — Riley is with him. She still appears to be unconscious. She’s seated in a metal chair too, chains around her wrists. He doesn’t see any injuries, but that does little to ease his mind.

“She’s fine,” Omar says, moving to stand in front of Mac. “Probably just needs a little longer for the drugs to wear off.”

“Why are you doing this to us?” Mac asks, wondering exactly how much Omar knows. 

Omar chuckles, leaning down to meet Mac’s eyes. “I hate liars.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You’ve been trying to deceive me,” Omar says, his voice taking a slight tone.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mac answers. Omar’s open hand connects his Mac’s cheek, and Mac tries to ignore the sting. Mac looks back at him, allowing his fear to show, hoping the emotion proves convincing. “Please, Omar — I don’t know why you’re doing this to me.”

Omar sets his jaw, his disbelief evident. His eyes glance towards his left, and a smirk finds his way to his face. He starts walking toward Riley, and Mac’s heart jumps.

“Leave her alone,” Mac demands. Omar doesn’t bother with a response, instead striking Riley across the face.   

Riley is awoken with a jolt by an aching pain in her cheekbone. Her vision is blurry and she’s having a hard time focusing her attention, but the sound of Mac’s voice has her clawing her way to full consciousness. There’s an edge to his words that’s unfamiliar to her, and that alone scares her to her core.

“Stay the hell away from her.”

“I just wanted your wife to join our little party!” Riley forces her vision to focus, and Omar becomes clear in front of her. He’s looking at her, and his eyes remind her of a predator searching for an easy kill.

Riley resists the urge to make a sarcastic comment apologizing for being late, instead testing to see if her cover remained intact by directing her words to her fake-spouse. “What’s happening? What’s going on?”

“I don’t know, honey,” Mac answers, his voice reassuring. “But it’s going to be okay.”

Riley pulls on her chains as she rises to her feet. She fakes panic. “Let us go! Please, let us go!”

“Sit.” Omar commands, pushing her back into the seat.

Riley closes her mouth, waiting in anticipation to learn what Omar wants.

“I think you targeted my wife and me. You wanted to make fast friends with us, and I want to know why,” Omar says.

“You’re insane,” Mac answers. “I don’t know why you’re so paranoid, but we didn’t know you or Mia before we came here. We don’t want anything!” 

“You see, I might’ve believed that a few hours ago, but my people did some research on you. Do you know what they found?” Omar asks.

“That we exaggerated on our taxes?” Riley answers, unable to prevent the smart-ass comment from escaping her mouth. “And who the hell are your people?” She asks indignantly.

To her surprise, Omar smiles. There’s something unsettling about it. “They found nothing.”

“Oh my God…he really is unstable,” Riley says, feigning mild hysteria.

Omar ignores her, pacing between them as he continues his thought. “The both of you were clean. We couldn’t find anything of substance on you, which is the problem.”

“I’m not following,” Mac replies, though he fully understands.

“I don’t believe you are who you say you are.”

He walks out of the room without another word, leaving them alone. Riley reads the warning in Mac’s eyes and understands it. She, too, had considered the likelihood of recording equipment being present in the room.

“Why is he doing this to us? I don’t understand,” Riley cries.

“I don’t know, either, but I’m sure someone will find us. I think we’re still at the resort…someone probably saw or heard something,” Mac says with a reassuring tone.

Riley reads between the lines. Bozer and Leanna will find them. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but she was confident they’d noticed their absence.

“I’m scared,” Riley says. She’s not acting this time. After all, Omar and his organization are dangerous people and many operatives have died trying to take them down. They’re not exactly known for their mercy.

“I know, baby,” Mac responds. Something about the way he says it makes her feel like he’s being honest too. “But I promise you, we’re going to make it out of this.” 

She can’t help but believe him.

Omar returns, a large box in his hands. Two men follow behind him, wheeling in two machines that look like they belong in a hospital room. He walks to a nearby table, laying out an assortment of tools, vials, knives, and other sharp objects. Fear builds in Riley’s chest as she prepares for the torture she’s sure is to come.

“You might be wondering what these heart monitors are for,” Omar says, not looking up.

Making sure you don’t take the torture far enough to kill us before you get the information you want? Riley wonders.

“You claim you aren’t lying. We’re going to see whether that is the truth.”

Riley relaxes. She’s confident in her training to help her pass a makeshift lie detector test.

One of Omar’s men — the big, ugly, balding one —  pulls down the neckline of Riley’s shirt enough to attach some wires to her chest and a clip on her finger. She tries not to recoil from his touch, knowing fighting back would only worsen the situation.

“When you see we’re being honest, will you let us go?” Mac asks, a calm to his voice.

“You’re not,” Omar responds, a nonchalance in his tone. He looks through the vials, seemingly reading the labels before selecting the one he was looking for. There’s a small smile on his face as he prepares the needles.

“What is that?” Riley asks.

“Drugs,” Omar says, looking closely at the dosage.

“Why are you going to drug us?” Riley asks. Omar remains silent. “What is the purpose?”

“It’s insurance,” Omar says. Riley shakes her head in confusion.

“Many drugs affect the limbic system, which is the portion of the brain that controls and regulates emotions.” Mac’s voice is soft. “It’s so that if we lie, we’re almost guaranteed to have a physical reaction because we can’t control it.” His facade is gone now — this is his warning to her.

Omar’s smirk returns. “I see the helpless victim act is over.” He walks over to Mac. “Now, do you want to let me inject this in your arm, or is this going to be forcefully jabbed into your neck?”

Mac offers an arm, resigned to the fact that this is happening. When Riley is presented the same choice, she follows his lead.

“Where the hell are they?” Leanna asks. She opens the door to the balcony, shutting it back quickly after finding it empty.

“They’re not answering their cells and their comms are still in the room,” Bozer responds, throwing his phone onto the bed in frustration.

“There’s not forced entry to the room, so it looks like they left on their own accord,” Leanna says. She paces nervously, running a hand through her hair.

“But they didn’t leave a note or wake us up to tell us where they were going, so maybe they thought they’d be back before we woke up? Shouldn’t we go look for them?”

“We have to think worst case scenario...if they’re in some sort of trouble and their covers are blown, so are ours. We can’t help them if we put ourselves in danger too.”

Bozer sits on the bed, placing his head in his hands.

“Do we tell Matty?” Leanna asks.

Bozer sits up and sighs, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. “Yeah, I think we have to. I know they could get in trouble for breaking protocol, but I think it’s too much of a risk to wait around and hope everything is fine. They could be in real danger.”

“Hey,” Leanna says, walking over to join Bozer on the bed. She places a comforting hand on his shoulder. “They are both fantastic operatives. Whatever is happening, they can handle it.”

Bozer nods, reaching for his phone and dialing Matty’s number.

“Talk to me, Bozer,” she answers.

“Mac and Riley are gone. Leanna and I woke up to them missing and we haven’t been able to get in contact with them. Their phones are off and going straight to voicemail.”

The line is silent. He’s sure it’s taking Matty a second to process, especially since it’s 7 in the morning.

“Have you left the room?” She asks.

“No ma’am,” Leanna chimes in. “Their absence made us worried about the potential of our covers being compromised.”

“Good,” Matty responds. Movement can be heard on the other end of the phone. “I’m going to get a tech to hack into the security cameras and see if we can get anything on Mac and Riley’s whereabouts. Omar’s and his men’s too. In the meantime, I want the two of you to think through the conversations you had with Mr. Mitrovic yesterday. Do you have any reason to suspect he didn’t believe you? Did he give you any hints about the whereabouts of his father? Did Mac and Riley say anything that could account for their being missing? Think of anything that could be helpful to locating them and getting them back.”

“Do you think they’re in danger?” Bozer asks.

Matty hesitates. “I don’t think they would be so reckless to disappear without communicating it unless they didn’t have a choice.”

Bozer closes his eyes, trying to calm himself down.

“Whatever is going on, we’re going to get to the bottom of this,” Matty says, her voice taking a hardened tone. “I’ll call you back soon with more information. Hold tight.”

“Yes ma’am,” Leanna responds.

Riley doesn’t dare speak. She can feel the drugs taking affect and she doesn’t trust herself.

“I’ll only ask once more,” Omar says, his fingers glossing over a myriad of tools displayed before him. His hand stalls as he eyes a pair of pliers. The corner of his mouth turns up and Riley’s stomach rolls. “How do you know each other? And remember—” he starts, taking a step toward her, “the only thing keeping you alive right now is my curiosity.”

“We already told you,” Riley spits.

“Right, the story about how you met and fell in love.” He snorts in disbelief. “I don’t believe a word of it. I want the truth,” Omar says, lowering himself to Riley’s level. Her grabs her chin roughly, forcing her to meet his eyes. She tenses. His eyes look so cold. He almost looks amused at her fear. She takes a breath and forces her body to relax, trying to work up a believable lie when Mac cuts her off with unexpected honesty.

“The first time we met was when I broke her out of prison.”

A chill runs down Riley’s spine as she struggles to understand Mac’s game plan. Omar’s eyes widen in surprise as the monitor stays consistent.

“You broke her out of prison,” Omar repeats.

“Yes,” Mac responds, an air of indifference about him.

“Why?”

“I need her expertise,” Mac answers vaguely.

Omar’s eyes narrow as he turns to face her. “What were you in prison for?”

Riley takes a breath, forcing her body to relax as she focuses on speaking truth. “Officially, cyberterrorism.”

Omar watches the screen in silence as he waits for the numbers to jump. He seems shocked when they don’t. He takes a moment, seemingly regaining his composure. “If you got caught, I assume you weren’t very good,” he says.

“I got caught on purpose.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Why?”

“I needed to fall off the grid. Regain the room to make my own choices,” Riley responds.

“What did you do?” Omar asks, his eyes pouring into hers. He’s trying to hide it, but Riley can tell that they have intrigued him.

“I hacked into the NSA to steal software secretly created by the US government that could be used to gain control of countries’ defense systems.”

Omar just blinks at her. “You’re serious?”

Riley nods.

“So I got into the system, but the video data from last night was wiped clean. I can’t recover it,” Jill says through FaceTime.

“So it’s a dead end?” Bozer asks, fear in his voice.

“Not quite,” Jill responds, a small smile on her face. “Turns out, Riley was automatically downloading the camera feeds in real time and uploading them to Phoenix. It took a little to go through all the video, but I isolated—”

“Get to the point!” Matty demands impatiently.

“Early this morning, Mac and Riley were walking outside when they were ambushed and drugged by Omar’s men. They’re still there, but they were taken down to the lower levels,” Jill says.

“Do you have eyes on them?” Leanna asks.

“No. Unfortunately, there aren’t cameras in the basement levels. We can assume they’re being held hostage there,” Jill answers.

“I thought Omar wasn’t involved in the family business,” Leanna says, confused.

“We were wrong. This is his doing,” Matty says.

“So now we go get them?” Bozer asks.

“He’s got at least five armed guards and two of our operatives as leverage. It’s too risky to go in,” Matty says. "We would put Mac and Riley in danger."

“We’re just going to do nothing?” Bozer asks, frustration dripping from his tone.

“The fact that they haven’t come for you isn’t luck, Bozer,” Matty responds forcefully. “It means they don’t see you as enough of a threat yet, but I guarantee they’re watching you. If you so much as take a step out of your door to help them, you could give Omar the confirmation he needs that you’re all working together against him. We don’t know enough yet and I will not let the two of you put them in danger by acting prematurely.”

“Matty!” Bozer says, his voice begging.

“I care about them too!” She says, her voice raised. She visibly relaxes her shoulders. “And I’m mobilizing a team to help them. I promise you, we will do whatever it takes. In the meantime, we have to trust that they can handle themselves.”

“You said you hacked into every US intelligence database. Why did you do it?” Omar asks.

“At first, it was just to see if I could,” Riley says. Mac can understand her answer. He thinks about all the fires and explosions he caused just because of his curiosity. “Then the money started. I’m sure you can understand what happened then.” She stops there. He knows she’s referencing her experience with the Collective. Mac resists the urge to laugh about their tactic here — to beat a lie detector with the truth. Well, part of the truth.

“And what about you?” Omar asks, directing his attention at Mac. “What do you do?”

“A little of this, a little of that,” he answers, shrugging.

Omar bends down, lowering himself to Mac’s height to look him in the eye. “Be more specific.”

Mac narrows his eyes, taking a harsher tone. “I do whatever I have to in order to get the job done.”

Omar smirks as the heart monitor reveals Mac’s honesty. “And who assigns these jobs?” Mac hesitates, but luckily, Riley jumps in to help.

“They call her The Hun. We’ve been taking orders from her since our last boss found herself with life in prison.”

“Prison?” Omar questions.

“Yeah,” Riley confirms. A small sense of amusement builds in Mac as he watches her successfully redirect Omar’s attention. “The government received proof of digital correspondence and a banking trial that cemented her involvement in terrorist organizations."

“Were the two of you implicated?” Omar asks. Mac chuckles. “What?” Omar demands.

“Our boss — Chrysalis, as she liked to be called — ended up in prison because we put her there,” Mac says.

“You’re telling the truth,” Omar says in surprise. “Why did you turn on her?”

“She betrayed us. Lied to us. Her word wasn’t worth anything anymore,” Mac answers, choosing his words carefully.

“So you can understand why I don’t like the two of you,” Omar responds.

“Hey, can you blame us for wanting to check out if you were trustworthy?”

“For what?” Omar asks. “Is this about one of your jobs?”

“Yes,” Mac says.

Omar scoffs. “I don’t even know what you do! Why would I work with you?”

“We do a lot. Intel gathering, theft, asset recovery…you name it, we’ve probably done it,” Riley says.

“And for the record, I’m kind of a jack of all trades, but I started with bombs,” Mac says.

“You can build a bomb?”

Mac chuckles. “I could build a bomb with the materials in this room alone.”

Omar watches for a change in the monitor and smiles when there isn’t one to be found. “You’re confident.”

“I’m resourceful,” Mac replies.

“So you’re an expert in explosives,” Omar starts, pointing at Mac, “and you are hacker with the ability to break into virtually any system,” he finishes, pointing at Riley.

“Yes,” Mac confirms.

“We’re just here to try to learn more about you and your family business,” Riley says. “You seem to have a lot of power and influence and we find that…intriguing.”

“Do you have any intentions of hurting me or my wife?” Omar asks.

“No,” Mac confirms, sincerity dripping from his voice. “We do not.”

“I thought you were with the CIA,” Omar says.

“No. The CIA don’t even know we exist,” Riley says.

“And the other couple with you?” Omar asks.

“Part of our team. They’re friends,” Riley says.

Omar seems to think. “I’m not against new friends, especially ones with your skill sets, but I have to say, this was a horrible way to make my acquaintance.”

“Let us make it up to you,” Mac says.

Omar contemplates the offer for a moment before nodding. “Luckily for you, I have just the idea how.”

Bozer rips open the door as soon as he hears the knock. “Mac!” Bozer says, pulling him into the room and shutting the door behind him. “Where the hell is Riley?”

“They still have her,” Mac says, barely looking in Bozer’s direction as he grabs Leanna’s phone from her hand and dials Matty. He starts speaking as soon as she picks up. “It’s me. It’s a long story, but Omar believes we are basically a criminal organization of mercenaries trying to make his acquaintance because we want the Mitrovics as allies and in order to earn their trust, we have to do a job for them. Some kind of test run. They’re keeping Riley as collateral if we don’t go through with it.”

“What do they want you to do, Mac?” Matty asks, a seriousness to her tone.

Mac hesitates. “You’re not going to like it.”

“You had me fooled,” Mia says. Riley didn’t hear her come in.

“Are you here to unhook me?” Riley asks, gesturing to the heart monitor.

Mia smiles, but there’s no pleasantness in it. “Do you love him?”

Riley’s stomach drops. “What?”

“You see, I’ve always been a good judge of character, and I’m wondering just how wrong I was about you,” Mia says, coming to stand directly in front of her.

Riley tries to slow her breathing — to prepare herself to lie and pray that the number on the monitor doesn’t jump — but she can’t force the denial from her lips. “You weren’t that wrong.” Her voice is quiet.

Mia’s smile looks genuine now, and she’s about to speak when her husband enters the room.

 “It’s time to relocate.”

Chapter Text

“You’re not going to like it,” Mac said.

Matty sighs on the other end of the phone. “I never do, Mac. Hit me with it.”

“Apparently the Mitrovic family is having some issues. Omar thinks Boris never recovered from the loss of his oldest son, and he thinks he’s unfit to run the organization.”

“He’s making a power play,” Matty says, surprise evident in her tone. “He’s vying for control.”

“How far is he willing to go to get it?” Bozer asks, exchanging a glance with Leanna.

“I have a hunch he’s already gone pretty far,” Mac says, running a hand through his hair.

“What do you mean?” Leanna asks.

“I don’t know if it was just scare-tactics or he was serious, but he implied he was the one who killed his brother.”

“Holy shit,” Bozer mutters, eyes wide.

“Yeah, and now he’s aiming for his old man,” Mac says.

“What do you have to do with this plan?” Matty asks.

“Well, his father is never away from his small army of body-guards. Omar would never be able to do it himself, so he’s asked me to do his dirty work.”

“If no one can get near him, how does he expect you to manage it?” Matty asks.

Mac is quiet for a moment. “I told him I specialize in creative solutions to impossible predicaments…and that I can build explosives.” His voice drops at the end. Mac can’t help but feel shame; sure, he did what he had to in order to save his own life, but he had marketed himself as a weapon for the enemy, and he hated it.

“Why the hell would you do that?” Matty asks, annoyance present in her voice.

“He drugged us and hooked us up to a heart monitor to see when we lied,” he answers.

There’s a pause. Mac can practically feel the nervousness emanating from the phone. “What does he know?”

“Just bits and pieces of the truth. How Riley and I met when I broke her out of jail. He knows I’m really good with explosives and thinks Riley is a hacker-for-hire who specializes in acts of cyberterrorism. He knows we work as part of a team, but he thinks we’re mercenaries instead of agents.”

“So he’s testing you by seeing if you can, what…eliminate his father?” Leanna asks, rubbing at her temples.

“He doesn’t just want him dead; he wants us to make it look like a rival organization is responsible so he can use that loss to his advantage,” Mac says, rubbing tiredly at his eyes.

“Let me guess,” Bozer says, gaining Mac’s attention. “He wants to make his dad go boom.”

Mac cuts his eyes at his best friend. “For lack of better words, yes.”

When Riley opens her eyes again, the first thing she sees is a wooden ceiling. She blinks rapidly, trying to force herself into full consciousness. She sits up and surveys her surroundings. There’s not much else in the room — a dresser, an open (and empty) closet, and a nightstand with a glass of water sitting on. She’s surprised to note she’s no longer restrained. Omar isn’t a particularly trusting individual, so why was he allowing her any freedom? She pushes herself off the creaky, single bed and makes her way to the small window. She cautiously pulls the curtains back and is surprised to see no one standing guard outside. There are woods surrounding them, but there doesn’t seem to be anyone nearby keeping watch. Riley fights back the urge to open the window and run — especially since the stupid thing doesn’t even have a lock — and forces herself to consider why they aren’t afraid of her breaking free. A sickening feeling spreads in her stomach. If no precautions were taken to prevent her escaping, it meant that they were confident she either couldn’t get away…or that there wasn’t anywhere to get away to.

Riley steels her nerves, takes a breath, and walks toward the closed door. The brass handle is cold under her hand, but she turns it anyway.

Riley doesn’t know what she expected, but it definitely wasn’t to see a cozy-looking, well-decorated cabin. She notes family pictures on the walls, bright throw-pillows on the couch, and a homemade quilt folded neatly on the back of a worn recliner. There’s a handful of scary-looking men lounging around, playing cards and smoking cigars, but they pay her no attention. She looks to the left and sees the lights in another room, so she ignores her nerves, and walks through the arch and into what appears to be the dining room.

“Ah, our guest has arisen,” a voice says as she enters.

There’s a long table in front of her, and it seems as if the head seat has been reserved for her. She looks around skeptically at the white tablecloth and lit candles and buffet before her. Something feels wrong about the whole thing. She glances at those around the table and is surprised to see a new face she hasn’t met yet. Actually, he is the one who had spoken to her. His blue eyes pour into hers, waiting for her response. A small smirk pulls at the corner of his lips, and Riley swallows, forcing a fake nonchalance.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Riley says, taking her seat. She grabs the napkins from the table and covers her lap, just as her mother taught her many years ago. She straightens her spine, smiles politely, and directs her attention back to the man. “Hello, Mr. Mitrovic. It is a pleasure to finally meet.”

“The pleasure is mine,” Boris responds, a chilling smile on his wrinkled face. There’s a look in his eyes that is all too familiar to her. It’s the same look she saw from Omar earlier as he judged whether she was telling him the truth. It is the look of a predator.

Riley forces her eyes to shift to the two on each side of the table. “Omar, Mia…” She says as a way of greeting.

Omar nods his head in recognition to her. Mia makes no acknowledgement, her gaze remaining on her food.

“What’s for dinner?” Riley asks, pretending she actually has an appetite.

“We have quite the meal planned,” Omar says, reaching for knife to slice the meat. “It’s a feast.”

“After all, we’re big believers in respecting guests…” Boris starts, “and if your little boyfriend doesn’t pull through, this will be your last meal.”

Riley’s stomach sinks, but she reaches for the wine glass in front of her anyway. She takes a small sip, blots her mouth with her napkin, and makes direct eye contact with Boris. “Well, what are we waiting for? It smells divine.”

“Mac, that plan is insane,” Leanna says, nervously pacing. Mac ignores her, his fingers focused on getting the wiring perfectly.

“Hello, earth to MacGyver?!” Matty’s voice screams through the phone.

“At least he has a plan this time,” Bozer says, shrugging his shoulders.

“What the hell does that mean?” Leanna asks, exasperated.

Bozer is about to answer her when Matty’s booming voice cuts him off. “Blondie!”

“Yes?” Mac asks, his eyes never leaving his work.

“Do you really think that’s going to work?” She asks.

“Honestly, I don’t know. But it’s our best shot,” He says, deeply sighing. “They’ve already moved her, so we have to play by their rules if we want the opportunity to get Riley back.”

“It sounds too dangerous,” Matty replies.

Mac understands her concern. “I get that, and if Bozer and Leanna don’t want to go alone with it, I understand, but I’ve got to do this.”

There’s a pause. “You could be killed,” Matty says finally. She seems resigned, as if she already knows he’s made up his mind.

“I know. But I’m not leaving here without her. I don’t care what I have to do,” He says, looking up to meet Bozer’s eyes. There’s some sort of understanding in his gaze, and his friend gives him a small nod.

“I’m with you, Mac. We’re gonna save her,” Bozer says.

They look at Leanna. She takes a breath, resolve settling on her face. “No one left behind.”

“If you all die, I’m gonna be pissed,” she says. She sighs on the other end of the phone. “What do you need for it to work?”

It’s the longest dinner of Riley’s entire life. She forces the food down despite her lack of hunger, knowing she should keep her strength up. They sit in mostly silence, which is somehow more unnerving. Riley feels eyes on her, but when she looks up to meet Mia’s gaze, the latter quickly averts her eyes.

The red wine does little to settle her nerves, but she sips it anyway. The taste is good, and if she’s going to be potentially murdered by a family of psychos, she thinks she might as well enjoy a glass or two first.

Boris chuckles, capturing her attention. “You seem awfully calm for someone whose life is in someone else’s hands.”

Riley smiles. “I’m not worried.”

“No?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. “I think I would be if I was in your position.”

“Well,” She replies, eating a bite of cake off her fork, “You don’t know Mac like I do.”

“You really think he’ll come back for you?” Mia asks. There’s an edge to her voice that surprises Riley. Mia’s face drops, seemingly upset at herself for speaking.

“I know he will,” Riley answers. She looks down at her watch. “In fact, I bet he’s already on his way.” Riley looks at Omar for confirmation.

The timing of the ding couldn’t have been any more perfect. Omar looks down at his phone, cracks a smirk, and meets Riley’s eyes. “He just arrived at the location.” Omar turns to look at his father. “He’s in route.”

“Wonderful. And does he have what we asked for?” Boris asks.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Mitrovic,” Riley says. “I’m sure you’ll be blown away.”

Mac is so ready to get there. He isn't usually the type to get motion sickness, but being drugged and tossed in the truck of a car with a reckless driver at the wheel...it was less than a pleasant ride. Sure, he had concocted a drink to counteract the effects of the drugs, but he still felt like crap. The entire time, the only thing that occupied his mind was Riley. Would he be able to get her out safely? Had they been taking care of her? What had they done to her in his absence? Was she, too, transported this way…drugged in a claustrophobic space? He can’t help but think how scared she must be, especially without knowing the cavalry would be following closely behind.

The car suddenly comes to a halting stop, throwing Mac forward and knocking him out of his thoughts. He listens closely for any clues to where he is, but hears no traffic or notable sounds. All he hears is the quiet hum of nature. Anxiety twists in his gut…they must be nowhere near other civilization. Mac sighs, know this will just make this job harder.

Suddenly the trunk opens. Light streams into Mac’s eyes and he groans and covers them.

“Grow a pair,” the driver replies, trying to force Mac quickly out of the trunk. Something about this sets Mac off, and he can’t help himself from kneeing the man in the crotch and punching him in the face. He surprises himself with his actions. After all, he’s not typically a violent person.

I haven’t slept in two days, I’ve been drugged multiple times, I’m about to give dangerous weapons to the enemy, they have the woman I love, and—

Wait. Mac shakes his head, trying to comprehend the words that just went through his mind. The woman…I love.

Another guard uses his moment of distraction to grab him from behind.

“You shouldn’t have done that, Blondie,” the man says, zip-tying his hands together behind his back.

Mac decides if he’s supposed to be some hardened criminal, he might as well keep up the act. Mac spats on the driver, who is still rolling on the ground in pain. He turns to look at the guard over his shoulder. “Kiss my ass.”

To Mac’s surprise, the guard makes no move to retaliate, instead walking Mac instead the cabin.

The sun has already set, so it’s too dark to see most of the details with the lights off, but Mac can see a large front porch with rocking chairs and hanging plants. It’s a little unsettling to him that the place looks so…homey. Something about it just feels wrong.

The door is opened for him, and his eyes instantly begin the search for Riley. He sees four men sitting around on the coach and recliners, but he’s led around them into the dining room. When he finally sees her, it’s not the sight he wanted.

She sits rigidly at the head of the table, Boris behind her and a gun to her head.

“Nice to finally make your acquaintance,” Boris says.

“There’s no need for that,” Mac says, a lack of emotion to his words.

“So you’ve brought what I want?” Boris replies.

“Mostly,” Mac says. “But I wanted to ensure I’d make it here safely, so it’s not finished yet. I’ll need my hands.” He smirks, feigning cold indifference.

“Release him,” Omar orders from his seat at the table.

The guard does as he’s told, dropping Mac’s bag carelessly on the table. Mac flinches.

“You do release there’s C4 in there, right?” Mac says, his hands getting to work.

“Where did you manage to get the explosives from?” Boris asks, surprise present in his tone.

“He made it,” Riley says, pride beaming on her face. Mac fights back a smile—a real one—at the sound of her voice.

“I told you he could be an asset, father,” Omar says.

Mac’s fingers work on autopilot, quickly building the device.

“Is it safe for him to build this in here?” Mia asks, nervousness clear in her wavering voice.

“Don’t worry,” Mac says, glancing up at her. “I do this all the time.”

“How much damage will this bomb do?” Boris asks.

“This,” Mac starts, “is just a trial run. A baby bomb, if you will. It’d take a small building…and everything in it.”

“This is just a taste,” Riley says, the gun still pressing on her temple. “He’s the real deal. And he can do so much more. So can I, for that matter.”

“How about you put that gun away, hm?” Mac asks, looking up from his work.  “I’m done.”

Boris holsters the weapon, walking to the other side of the table to admire Mac’s craftsman ship. “It looks good, kid. But there’s only one way to tell if it really works.”

“And tomorrow I will prove it does,” Mac says, “when we obliterate the CIA safehouse. And after your enemies are dead, we will make a deal.”

Boris smiles, a sinister look overcoming his face. “I look forward to it.”

When the bedroom door slams behind them, Riley throws herself into Mac’s arms, and he readily catches her, resting his head against hers.

“I was so worried, Riles. I’m so glad you’re alright,” he whispers.

“Thanks to you,” she answers, burying her head in the crook of his neck.

They stay like that for a long time, just overcome by the relief that they are okay, and they are together. Despite everything…the Serbian mobsters, the homemade explosives, the scary men standing guard…they have each other, and that’s all either really cares about.

When they finally break apart and reality sets in, they begin to search the room carefully for bugs.

“Are we really going to bomb a CIA safehouse?” Riley asks, finally satisfied there aren't ears on them.

“No, that’s just what Boris wants. They’re closing in on his location, and he needs them out of the picture.” Mac explains, reiterating the information Omar gave to him.

“I’m lost,” Riley admits, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“The bomb I built, it’s not for the safehouse…” Mac hesitates. “It’s for this house.”

Chapter Text

“You mean the house we’re currently in?” Riley asks.

Mac hums his approval as he takes a seat on the bed.

“And isn’t that kind of an issue, being as we’re in the house?” She asks, eyes wide.

“Well, the goal is to not be in the house when it explodes,” Mac replies, a boyish grin on his face.

Riley shakes her head at him, laughter rising in her chest despite herself. “Great plan there, MacGyver.” She plops down next to him, leaving an inch or two between them.

“Omar wants control over the organization, and he knows he won’t be able to inherit it until his dad is dead. The problem is that his people won’t accept him as the new leader if he’s disloyal to his own father…so he has to find a way to eliminate Boris without losing their trust,” Mac says.

“So, what, it has to look like an accident?” She asks. “What are you going to do...make it seem like you’re incompetent and accidentally set off a bomb you were building? Won’t that put us and the Phoenix in danger?” Worry paints her features.

It isn’t often that Riley allows the stress of their jobs to get to her. She always manages to push it down, to harden her nerves like tempered steel. She became good at that in prison — masking her fear and forcing her body to ignore the adrenaline rush pumping through her. The sensation of her muscles tightening, the blood surging, her lungs suddenly feeling too hollow, too empty…like all the oxygen in the world can’t redeem her. Her heart pattering painfully in her chest like a percussionist with poor timing…speeding faster, and faster, spiraling into an unmanageable and unmaintainable sprint until—

“Hey,” Mac says, placing a hand on her forearm. “Hey, listen to me. We’re going to make ourselves look blameless for taking out Boris.”

“Wait, we’re actually going to kill Boris?” Riley asks.

“Well. I haven’t worked out a way around that quite yet,” Mac says, rubbing reassuring circles into her skin with his thumbs.

Riley nods in understanding, through her judgement still feels murky. Like a layer of fog too dense to navigate. She feels like she’s sinking through the surface…

“Riles.” His voice cuts through the confusion. “We’ve made it through much worse. Trust me; I’m not even worried.”

She laughs humorlessly at that. “You’re never worried.”

“I’m always worried,” Mac corrects, “but I know my emotions are more dangerous—”

“Than the bomb at your feet,” Riley finishes.

He smiles at that. “You were listening.”

“I’m always listening to you, Mac.”

His eyes reflect a kind of light that Riley is unfamiliar with. Mac’s hand trails from her arm until he interlaces his fingers with hers. He looks at her honestly…earnestly. Like she’s a precious and valuable discovery. The gentleness of his gaze leaves goosebumps on her skin.

“And I’m listening to you now,” he says. “Please tell me what you’re thinking. I can tell…something is shaking you.”

She inhales deeply before uttering her response. “I was just worried I’d never see you again.”

Mac tilts his head a little to the left. There’s a shadow of a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips as he clocks her dishonesty. “There’s more to it than that.” He’s proud of himself, she can tell, for being able to read her like a billboard sign. It should make her nervous; if he can read her, he can see the truth…her truth. But it doesn’t make her nervous. Instead, a sort of peace settles over her and she feels the resolve set in. So what if he sees? Let him.

“I’m scared of dying with regret,” Riley says. She watches the slow rise and fall of Mac’s chest as he breathes. He sits for a moment, absorbing, pondering, considering…

“Yeah,” he says finally. “I know the feeling.”

“What are you afraid of regretting?” She asks. She knows it’s a prying (maybe even a leading) question, but she can’t help herself.

“I have a bad habit,” Mac starts.

“You’ve got a couple,” Riley teases. “Leaving paperclips everywhere, breaking phones, rummaging through trash…” She leans against him with her shoulder in a playful nudge.

“Yeah, yeah…you joke, but those paperclips, broken phones, and ‘trash’ have saved your life on several occasions.” He smiles.

“Definitely more than that,” she corrects.

Mac’s smile settles as he plans his next words. “Every time I come up with a crazy plan, I picture it all going wrong. And I picture myself dying…every time. And every time, I only regret that I’m alone.”

She feels a tug in her chest, her emotions wrestling for control. She takes a breath, and she concedes the fight. “MacGyver,” Riley says, bringing her free hand to his face. “You’ve never been alone.”

She kisses him, pressing her lips firmly against his. He doesn’t hesitate, instead releasing his hold on her hand to pull her closer. They melt together, two people desperate to convey the gravity of their feelings that their brains are unable to put into words.

They break apart slowly, their foreheads resting lightly on one another. “I didn’t want to regret never telling you—” Riley starts. 

“I love you,” Mac says, cutting her off.

She pulls back in shock, meeting his eyes. To his surprise, she seemingly ignores his declaration. “Did you really just steal my moment?” She asks, feigned outrage in her voice.

“I’m sorry,” He apologizes, though he’s smiling. He feels so much lighter with that confession off his chest. “Go on.”

“Well, I don’t feel like sharing now ,” she teases, looking away.

“Come on, finish what you were going to say.”

“I don’t know,” she replies, a smirk on her face.

“Riley. Please.” There’s a need present in his voice, and the sound of it sends her crashing back into reality…into the weight of the moment and the truth of the connection between them.

“I love you, Mac,” she says. He smiles at her, and she feels that fluttering in her stomach, like a giddy schoolgirl with her first crush. “But—”

“Oh God,” Mac groans. “But what?”

“But I think the rest of this conversation needs to be put on pause.” She sighs. “As much as I want to figure out what this means for us …we have to come up with a plan to make sure we make it out of here alive first.”

“That’s all the motivation I need…what’s a small war against a mobster crime family if I know I’ll get to kiss you again once this is over?” He smiles at her, and she almost allows it to distract her. She has to force herself to scoot back, to create some space.

“Well, I think we need more than just improvisation this time,” Riley says.

“Hey, I’ll let you know I actually thought most of this one out!” He says.

“Oh yeah?” She asks, rubbing her temples in exasperation. “How do you plan to get past the guards, Einstein?”

Mac narrows his eyes at her. “You’re starting to sound like Jack.”

“Sorry,” Riley answers, though she’s grinning. “It’s been a long day.

Mac reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulls out a small bag with a powdery substance.

“Didn’t the guards pat you down? They did me.” Riley asks. Mac nods, and tries to ignore the burning anger in his chest at the idea of their hands on her.

“I hid it in with my other equipment and grabbed it when they were distracted,” He replies.

“What’s in there?”

“Flunitrazepam,” Mac answers. “It’s a type of benzodiazepine.”

“Aren’t those, like, tranquilizers?” Riley asks, running a hand through her hair.

“Yeah. It’s illegal in the US, but sadly still pretty common, especially since it dissolves colorlessly.”

Riley’s eyes widen in recognition as she realizes what’s in the bag. “Is that crushed up Rohypnol? Are we about to roofie these people?”

Mac grins in response.

“How are we going to get them all to drink this? And how the hell did you get it?”

“I didn’t have time to make it, but Matty helped.” Riley starts to question him, but he forges on. “It’s a long story, and I’ll explain it later, but your first question is a little more important.”

“How are we going to get them to drink this?” She asks again.

“That’s the fun part.”

“It’s so hot in here!” Mia complains.

“I know…the system has gone completely haywire. It won’t stop blowing hot air,” Omar explains.

“Can you please do something about this? I’m dying in here,” she says.

“I don’t know how!"

“Well, I guess your little friends might prove helpful already,” Boris says to Omar. He turns his attention to a guard. “Get the blond one.”

A few moments later, Mac is in the hallway by the kitchen fidgeting with the electronic thermostat. Mia quickly gets bored and trails back into the living room, leaving the three men alone.

“What is wrong with it?” Omar asks, leaning against the wall.

“The wiring and step-up are all perfect,” Mac replies.

“So you don’t know?” Boris replies, unimpressed.

“It’s an issue with the thermistor,” Mac says. The men blink at him, waiting for an explanation, so he elaborates. “The system that reads the temperature. The amount of heat output is dependent on the temperature within the house. For example, if you have it set on 70 and the thermistor reads that it’s 65, it’s going to blow heat until the actual temperature in the building reaches the desired temperature. In this case, the signals that are being received are way off, so the heater is acting as if it’s really cold in here,” Mac explains.

“Fix it,” Boris says.

“I can…it might take me a while though. It would go faster if we reset all of the programmable settings first, but the reset is failing. It’s not really my area of expertise, but I’m confident Riley can bypass it,” Mac says.

Omar squints his eyes. “You better not be messing around,” he warns.

“Yeah, we’re plotting an elaborate escape through fixing the heating unit,” Mac says sarcastically. “Come on, man. I don’t want to sweat to death either.”

“Miss Davis,” Boris yells. “Your services are requested out here.”

Mac hears a door open down the hall, and Riley is there a minute later. “You rang?”

Mac explains the situation, and Riley is quick with her response. “Ah, so we have to fix the microcontroller.”

“The microcontroller?” Omar questions.

“It’s basically the computer of the digital thermostat,” She explains, moving to take Mac’s spot. “Do you have any tweezers or pliers?”

Omar looks to Boris, who shrugs in response.

“I’ll grab the pair from my bag,” Mac replies, walking through the doorway and towards the table in the kitchen where he built the bomb earlier in the night.

“I’ll get it,” Omar says assertively, pushing past him.

Mac huffs in annoyance. “Okay…well I’m going to grab some water, unless you want to do that for me too?” Mac asks.

Omar glares at him, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. “Go ahead.”

“Pour me a glass,” Riley says, looking up from her work. “We have a big day tomorrow…I don’t want to be dehydrated.”

Boris leans his head into the kitchen. “Bring water to my men as well.”

“I’ll get someone for everyone,” Mac says. He turns his back to them to grab glasses from the shelf, a small smile on his face.

“I know we’re probably way too far away from anything to leave by foot, so I understand why we aren’t running…but I also know that they’re all out by now and that hot-wiring one of their fancy SUVs—which I’m sure have GPS—is well within your substantial capabilities. Staying here seems like an unnecessary risk,” Riley says. The two are back in their room, backs against the wall on either side of the door. They’ve been sitting so long that Riley’s legs are beginning to go numb. They’ve been listening, and the house has fallen quiet.

“Maybe, but these people know our faces. They know our names. Not eliminating them from the playing field results in a what I see as a much more threatening risk,” Mac answers, his voice gentle.

Riley sighs in agreement. “This job is difficult enough without having to look over our shoulders.” She takes a breath, straightening her spine. “Besides, we have an opportunity to over-deliver on our mission’s objective, which would definitely score us some points with Matty. I’m sure she’s less than pleased on how derailed the original plan went.”

“She’s fine,” Mac replies, an awkward strain in his tone.

“You’re a terrible liar, MacGyver,” Riley says, meeting his eyes.

He chuckles. “She didn’t love me voluntarily giving myself up too and offering up my explosives knowledge to terrorists, but she said she’d forgive me when I brought you back safely.”

A moment passes. Riley presses her ear against the door, but is greeted only by silence. She lays flat on her stomach, looking through the small crack at the bottom for any movement. “We’re clear, I think. You ready to go?” She asks, pushing herself up.

Mac stands too. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

Riley grabs the knob. “See you on the other side.” And then slowly, she turns it.

They go their separate ways. Riley walks deeper into the living area. She notes the empty water glasses on the coffee table with a sigh of relief. The four bodyguards are seemingly asleep. One in the recliner, two on the couch, and another in a loveseat. They seem much less threatening as they softly snore than when they were kidnapping her.

She goes to the baldie in the recliner first. Just her luck, she sees a rectangular outline in his pants pocket. She holds back the desire to groan, slowly slipping her fingertips into the pocket until she gets a grip on the phone. He stirs, readjusting in his seat. Riley’s heart leaps in her chest and her body goes still. She waits a moment, and when she’s sure that he’s still sleeping, she slowly inches the cellphone free. The two on the couch are easy — they left their phones out beside them. The fourth’s phone isn’t in sight, but it doesn’t really matter; she’s already gotten what she needs.

She heads back to the room, quickly getting to work. The signal so deep in the woods is scare, but with Riley’s expertise and the right tools, she knows it won’t take her long. She cracks open baldie’s phone. She has to hold in a laugh; something about the moment makes her feel a lot like Mac.

A few minutes later, she’s on the line with Phoenix.

“Webber,” Matty answers.

“Hey boss,” Riley replies. “Miss me?”

“Oh, thank God,” Matty says. “I want the team on the big screen immediately,” she hears Matty demand. She hears a click as Matty transfers her to speaker. “Riley, tell me that you and Mac are okay.”

“Mac and I are okay,” she confirms.  

“Good. What do you know about your location?” She asks.

“I’ve sent the coordinates — Jill should be getting them any second. It’s a remote cabin in the woods. There doesn’t seem to be civilization for miles, at least. The front door opens to the big living room, which is where the four trained bodyguards are. The bedroom they’ve kept Mac and I in is right off the main room to the left side. By that is the hallway that leads to the dining room/kitchen, and then to the remaining two bedrooms. One of them is Omar and Mia, and the other is where Boris is staying. The house does have an alarm system, but it’ll be disabled—”

“Hold up,” Matty says, cutting her off. “Boris?”

Riley almost laughs. “Right, I almost forget. We did succeed at discovering his location.”

She’s sure Matty has something smart to say back, but there’s a click on the line, and suddenly there’s a new voice.

“Yes, Matty?”

“Jack!” Riley says.

“You have no idea how good it is to hear your voice, Ri,” he says, relief clear in his tone. “Don’t you worry, honey — I’m on a flight with the rest of your backup. We’ll be to you soon.”

“I thought you had a dislocated shoulder or something?” She questioned.

He scoffs. “As if that would stop me when it comes to you.”

Riley smiles into the phone. “You know Mac is here too, right?” She jokes.

“Right. I guess I’ll save boy genius’s ass too,” he says. Riley can almost envision his grin.

“Alright you two, let’s get back to business,” Matty orders, though there’s a lightness to her tone. As if she knew how desperately Jack needed to check in that his two favorite people were alright.

Just on time, there’s another click and Leanna and Bozer’s voices are added.

“Hey guys. We’re fine, don’t worry. Mac and I have a plan that will get us everything we want. Here’s what we need from you—”

The echo of the blast blared in his ears. He’d heard plenty of explosions in his life—many of which he even caused—but the sound would always jolt him, at least a little bit. Years of being a bomb tech would do that…fill you with dread at that horrific, yet familiar sound.

“Damn,” Riley whispers, grimacing and rubbing at her temples. “You sure you didn’t overshoot it? It sounds like it took out most of the house.”

“Just Boris’ room,” Mac replies, attention focused on listening for voices. “Ready?”

“Born ready,” She answers, mischief alive in her tone. 

Mac bursts through the door. “What the hell?” He yells, surveying the room. He forces himself not to look pleased as he surveys the cracks in the wall and other evidence of damage. 

“Stay there!” A guard orders. “We’re checking on the situation.” 

“Checking?” Riley screams, indignant. “Your enemies are trying to blow us up and you want us to just stay put and die?” 

Omar and Mia rush into the room. Omar’s eyes narrow in on Mac. “This is your doing?” Omar questions, hand reaching to his waistband for his pistol.

It’s then when the second bomb goes off. This time, it’s behind them. They can feel the force shake the house, and the wall cracks behind them. 

“Oh my God,” Riley freaks, looking back towards the room from which they’ve come. “We almost…” She trails off, panic appearing to set in. 

“Omar!” Mia yells. “Do something!” 

“He’s dead!” The bald guard yells, turning the corner. “There’s nothing left.” His men look on with shock, turning to Omar, their next-in-line, for their orders. 

“We’ve got to get out of here!” Mac says, rushing toward the front door. 

“Wait,” Omar says, looking back and forth between his men and the way of escape. “What if they’re trying to draw us out to make us easy targets?”

“Um, hello? This house is rigged! We’re easy targets now!” Riley asserts. 

“The girl’s right,” the short guard agrees. “We can’t stay here.” He looks around to the other men for support. 

“You take your orders from me now,” Omar says, a coldness in his voice. “The explosions have been on the sides of the house…they could have very well been set up outside, no?” Omar asks, eyes set on Mac. 

“Uh, yeah..” Mac answers, hand to his head in feigned nervousness. He pretends to think. “Yeah, that makes a lot of sense. If I couldn’t get inside a building to get to my targets, that’s what I would do.”

“We’re just supposed to wait until they decide to blow us up or fight their way in?” Mia asks, eyes wide. 

“We’re alive,” Omar replies, putting a hand on her arm. “That means that they need us alive.” 

“Not us,” Riley says, her voice more steady than before. She gestures toward the room they’d been in before. Through the open door, they could see the gaping hole in the wall and the mess of debris shot across the room. The entire bed, which had once sat across the wall, had been splintered in thousands of pieces. Riley gestures down the hallway. “Not your father.”

“They’re here for me?” Omar whispers, inhaling deeply. 

“Or,” Mac says, taking a step closer to the group, “there’s a man in this room your enemies want to live…because they’re one of them .” 

Omar’s eyes narrow.

“I mean, how the hell else would your enemies know where we are? The Mitrovics have evaded capture for decades,” Mac replies. 

“Until I met you.” Omar questions.

“We almost died, man!” Mac yells, true anger in his voice. 

“My money is on him,” Riley says, pointing at the bald one. 

“What?” Baldie responds, taking a step closer. 

“I heard him making a call last night and talking about the layout of the cabin,” Riley says.

“Liar,” He answers, glaring. 

“Then give me your phone,” She demands. 

“No,” The man responds. “Mr. Mitrovic, you can’t possibly believe,” he starts, turning to face his boss, but he stops when he sees the barrel of a gun staring him down. 

“Hand it over,” he demands, gesturing from the bald man to Riley. “Now.”

Hesitating, the man does as he’s asked. 

“Give her the password,” Omar says, his voice tight. 

The bald man defiantly raises his chin, outraged at the accusation. 

“Now.” 

“No need,” Riley replies, showing the unlocked phone to Omar. “I helped myself.” She turns the phone back towards her. She clicks the phone icon, and clicks call on the most recent number, holding the phone away from her. 

It rings once before the person answers. “Is it done?” The voice asks ominously. The gun sounds, and suddenly, the bald man is on the floor. Mia looks on in horror at the barbarity of her husband, but he makes no notice. 

“No,” Omar replies, snatching the phone out of Riley’s hand. “You’ve failed.”

There’s silence on the other end for a moment. “No, Mr. Mitrovic,” the voice answers. “I have you surrounded. I’ve won.”

“Not yet, you haven’t. We can still make a deal,” Omar says. “Whatever fight you had, it was with my father. He’s dead; you’ve achieved your vengeance. I’m worth more to you alive.”

“What can you offer me?” The voice asks through the phone. 

“Let me make a few calls,” Omar responds. 

Mac forces himself not to smile. 

“If you kill me, you will never get all I’ve promised you,” Omar says. 

“I understand. I’m looking forward to being in business together. How about you come outside and shake my hand?” The voice replies. 

Omar moves to exit, his men and Mac and Riley not fair behind, when Mia’s voice sounds. “Hell no. I’m saying right here until I know it’s safe.” 

“Okay,” Omar says, making no move to console her. 

They walk through the door and down the stairs, all spilling out into the yard in the early morning light. There are people in black tactical gear all around, weapons out, but pointed toward the ground. 

Riley has never been so glad to see all her fellow Phoenix agents. 

Omar looks around before calling out. “I’m here…show your face.” 

The door to a transport opens, and the man from the other side of the phone steps out. Omar’s face twists in shock and disgust. 

“Oh hey, Omar!” Bozer says, a smirk on his face. “We missed you at the resort, so we thought we’d pay you a visit, buddy.”

Omar moves in fast motion, wrapping his arm around Riley’s throat and pressing his gun against her ear. Suddenly the grin on Bozer’s face is gone, and everyone’s weapons are pointed toward the action. “You thought you could trick me?” 

Mac forces his body to hold still, though everything in him wants to rush forward. “Let her go.” 

Riley shuts her eyes, every muscle in her body tight. She doesn’t want to die…not like this. Not for nothing…

“If I’m going down, she’s going with me,” Omar answers coldly. 

Riley wishes she hadn’t put off that conversation with Mac. That she’d spent every last minute she had in his arms. She tenses, preparing herself for the end when the gun sounds. It takes her a moment to realize that it wasn’t her that was hit. As Mac rushes towards her, grabbing her and pulling her into his arms, she looks to see Omar on the ground, a hole in his leg, writhing in pain. He’d been shot from…behind? 

“Put the gun down, Miss,” She hears Leanna say. 

Mia drops the gun. Mac loosens his hold on Riley, but doesn’t drop his arms from around her. 

“You…” Riley starts, confused. “Why?”

Mia shakes her head, seemingly shocked at herself. “I just…didn’t want to live with your death on my conscience.” 

Another shot sounds, and once again, the bullet lodges itself into Omar. She screams out in pain, dropping the gun from his bleeding hand. 

“Don’t go for the weapon again, dirtbag,” A voice demands. 

“Jack!” Riley exclaims.

“I’ve got you, Ri,” Jack responds. He directs his attention toward the men under his command. “Move in. Arrest them all.” 

The Phoenix members move efficiently, making quick work. As they work to stabilize Omar’s nonthreatening bullet wounds, Riley can’t help but gloat. 

“Thanks for making those calls for us, man,” She says, a grin on her lips. “I’m sure we’ve already zeroed in on the location of all your organization’s most vital contacts. You’re all finished.” 

Omar glares at her, unable to move in his restraints. “Good luck. They’re more careful than that.”

“She doesn’t need luck,” Mac replies, throwing an arm around her shoulder. “She’s that good.”

Riley throws an arm around Mac’s waist in response. “Enjoy sharing a cell with your father, Omar. I suspect he’ll be a little grumpy about the trying-to-have-him-murdered thing.” 

Omar pales. “My father?” He questions. 

“Turns out he wasn’t in the room when it went boom. Who would’ve thought!” Mac exclaims. 

“You’re lying!” He yells. Omar fights to stand up, but the medic presses on his wound to stop him. Omar lets out a grunt of pain, and settles back into the grass. 

“Leanna,” Riley calls. “Mind showing him where he misplaced his dear old dad?”

Leanna smiles. “Oh, right.” She digs beneath her vest in her jacket pocket and retrieves car keys. She clicks a button, and the truck of one of the nearby cars pops open. “Almost forgot about Papa Mitrovic.” 

The look on his face causes Mac to chuckle. 

Riley settles into the couch, grateful for the luxury of the Phoenix jet. Mac joins her, sitting close, but leaving a gap of space. They hadn’t planned how to act around their friends, but neither had said a word yet about, well, them…they had an unspoken agreement that they wouldn’t say anything yet. It was too new, too fresh. While both knew that what they had was real, neither was ready to let their friends in on it. At least, not before they’d had time to come to terms with it themselves. To revel in their own, private joy.

“You okay?” Mac asks, subtly running his fingertips over her knuckles. 

“Yeah,” Riley says. “Thanks to Mia. What do you think will happen to her?”

Mac sighs. “I don’t know. She’s not exactly blameless, but I think Matty will take what she did into consideration. Who knows, maybe we can use her somehow.”

The rest of the group begins to file in, and Mac draws his hand away. 

“The next time y’all plan on getting kidnapped, maybe give a guy a heads up,” Jack says, plopping down into his chair. 

“Sorry for the inconvenience,” Mac deadpans. 

“If you would've come on this mission, who would’ve been your date, Jack?” Bozer jokes. 

“Jada!” Jack answers, not missing a beat. 

“Who?” Bozer questions. “Wait, do you mean Jill ?”

“Yeah, Janie,” Jack replies. 

“Dude,” Bozer starts.

The bickering is interrupted by the sound of Matty’s voice over the intercom. “You can never just stick to the plan, huh?” 

“Sorry Matty,” Mac responds. “But in our defense, we not only got the location of Boris, but took him and his son into custody.” 

“And we identified some of Boris’ biggest assets, so we can make sure to take down the entirety of his criminal enterprise,” Riley adds. 

“Good work,” Matty says reluctantly. “Even though you’re giving me gray hairs.” 

Riley smiles. 

“So,” Matty starts over the speaker. “Did the new couple enjoy getting to play husband and wife?” Riley and Mac both go still. 

“How’d you know?!” Bozer demands, nervousness in his tone. 

“I know everything, Bozer,” Matty replies. 

“You’re not mad? I know we were never supposed to talk again.”  

“Bozer, I selected Leanna as a surprise for you. Though, after this, I might be negotiating to see what we’d have to do to keep her.”

“Really?” Bozer asks, smiling wide at Leanna. 

“Yes. We work better with those we care about.” A beat passes. “Isn’t that right, Mac and Riley?” 

Riley feels warmth spreading on her cheeks. “Yes ma’am.”  She looks at Mac and he smiles and shrugs before reaching for her hand to intertwine their fingers. 

“Damn…you really do know everything, huh?” Mac says. 

“ Everything ,” Matty confirms. 

“I’m sorry, what?” Jack questions, looking back and forth between the woman he considers his daughter and the man he considers his best friend. 

Mac chuckles nervously. “Um…long story short, lines got a little blurred between fiction and fact. We, uh…reassessed our relationship a little.” Mac looks to Riley, and she raises an eyebrow in amusement at his awkwardness. 

“What do you mean ‘relationship?’” Jack questions, his eyes narrowed. 

“Jack…don’t be mad. It’s a little complicated-”

Riley cuts him off. “It’s really not all that complicated.” She turns to Jack. “We love each other. We have for a while, and being forced to play a married couple forced us to come to terms and admit that.” 

Jack seems to take this in, real shock on his features. Bozer’s smug smile is from ear to ear, practically screaming I told you so.

“Say something, man,” Mac says, worry evident in his features. His mind and heart was set — he would be pursuing a relationship with Riley, even if it put his friend in an uncomfortable spot; it would just be easier with his blessing. 

“I, uh…” Jack starts, leaning back in his chair. “I’m surprised. That’s for sure.” 

“Because you’re about as emotionally observant as a brick wall,” Matty says over the intercom. 

“Hey!” Jack protests. He refocuses his attention on Mac. “But I’m happy for you, man. Really.” He shifts his gaze to Riley. “Both of you.” 

“Thank you,” Riley murmurs. 

He looks back at Mac. “You’re the only person I’ve ever met that might even be close to worthy of her.” 

Riley smiles, and Mac can’t help admiring the beauty of the sight. “I’m going to try to be. I can promise you that.” 

“Good,” Jack says, chuckling. “Because it’d be a shame if the one tasked with protecting you had to kill you.” 

Mac laughs, but quickly stops when he realizes Jack isn’t laughing with him. “Damn man, don’t you know me better than that?” 

Jack finally cracks, no longer able to keep up the scary dad act. “Yeah, I do. I can’t believe this — my two favorite people!” He smiles, standing up and moving to hug Riley, and then Mac. 

It’s a pleasant flight home with everyone celebrating their mission’s success and new, blossoming relationships, but Mac can’t help but wishing for time to go faster so he could get Riley alone. 

After all, she had owed him a kiss. 

Chapter Text

It’s enough to make Mac nervous when Jack blocks the pathway out of the war room and shuts the door, but Mac knows he’s screwed when Jack taps the glass for the privacy screen. 

“What are you doing?” Mac asks, nervousness in his voice. He tries to play it cool, but he’s pretty sure Jack saw his embrace with Riley much earlier in the day after they narrowly escaped to safety. Mac hopes this isn’t about his feelings he’s yet to deal with, but Jack cuts straight to the chase, and Mac’s stomach drops. 

“You’re into her,” Jack says. Mac takes a breath, unsure of how to proceed, and entirely unable to force a denial out of his lips. Jack must clock his hesitancy because his joking tone is gone the next time he speaks. “Damn, you’re really into her.”  

“It’s complicated, and it’s new…” Mac stutters out, his words uncertain. 

“No. It’s not,” Jack replies indifferently. He says it factually, as if he understands better than Mac himself. Mac tilts his head, but Jack, stubbornly, makes no move to clarify. 

“I mean, we’ve always been close, but there’s something…new between us. We haven't really talked about it-” 

“No dude,” Jack cuts him off. “I meant no, it’s not something new. It’s something old.” 

Mac raises an eyebrow, confused.

“There’s been a connection between the two of you since you broke her out of those handcuffs.”

“I don’t…” Mac trails off, not following Jack’s point. 

Jack sighs. “She didn’t want anything to do with me, but she agreed to help us because she believed in you, man. She trusted you. And mind you, she didn’t have any reason to. You were the same way with her — you looked past all the black ink in her file and the prison bars, and you saw someone worthy of another chance. You saw the good in her from the jump. Even when you had every reason to be gun shy after Nikki.” Jack points a finger at Mac’s chest. “The two of you just clicked. And you became the most important person in the world to that girl.” 

“I don’t think that’s true,” Mac says dismissively. 

Jack chuckles and shifts his weight to lean against the door. “Do you remember when you went undercover as a convict and everything kinda went to hell and we weren’t sure how we were gonna get you out?’ 

“Vividly,” Mac responds, shuddering. 

“Riley slept in this room the whole time,” Jack says, his voice even. “Refused to leave in case you needed her.” 

“Really?” Mac asks. He looks around the room, trying to think back to that period of time. How long had he known her…had it even been a few weeks? 

“She said she wasn’t going home until you did,” Jack says, a knowing look on his face. 

Mac has trouble digesting that information. He can see her doing that — sacrificing her own health and comfort for him. It isn’t surprising to hear. What is a harder pill to swallow is the reality that Jack is right; there has always been some feelings buried under the surface of their friendship. There is a bond of mutual trust and care, but it goes deeper, and Mac doesn’t know quite know when all of the emotions began to manifest, but he knows there’s been an underlying something for a long, long time. 

Oh God, it hasn’t been just something . 

It’s love. 

“And judging by your actions today and the look on your face right now, I’d say she means the world to you too.” Jack’s voice is strangely calm, and Mac doesn’t know how to read it.

“Yeah, she does,” Mac says, honesty conveyed in his tone. 

Jack scans his face before a small, sideways smile creeps onto his lips. He stands up straight. “You love her?” He asks, though it looks like he already knows the answer. 

“I do,” Mac confirms. A beat passes. “You okay with that?” He asks gently. 

“Are you kidding?” Jack asks, his smirk widening until a full-blown grin. “All I’ve ever wanted for Riley is to find someone equally as awesome as she is. Someone who actually deserves her. And you—you little hamburger-named-genius-freak—might be the only person on the planet that actually does.”

Mac smiles at that. Jack opens his arms, pulling Mac in for a hug. It’s a beautiful moment until Jack mutters a pretty descriptive threat in Mac’s ear if he ever does wrong by his little girl. Mac laughs, and while he’s sure Jack’s not kidding, he thinks they both know he has no intentions of ever hurting her. 

“Go get the girl, man,” Jack says, giving Mac a light shove and finally unblocking the door. There’s a glint in Mac’s eye when he answers. 

“Oh, I plan to.”