Jack entered MacGyver's house, a bit surprised to find his way lit only by candles strewn across the kitchen Island countertop. He sniffed and arched an eyebrow at the scent of Vanilla wafting throughout the room. "Hey, Mac?" he called out.

"I'm out by the fire pit!" MacGyver called back. He was smiling as Jack made his way over to drop in the chair beside him. He raised the glass he was holding in a mock toast. "Glad you could make it, Jack."

"Well, I'm glad you called me." He studied the liquid in MacGyver's chunky glass. "Whiskey?"

Mac pointed to the bottle on the table between them. "Not just any whiskey. Twenty-five year old Glenlivet single malt Scotch Whiskey." There was another glass, already poured, on the table and MacGyver picked it up and held it out to his friend.

Jack was impressed as he accepted the glass. "Looks expensive."

"Five hundred dollars a bottle," Mac stated, before downing a mouthful. It went down smooth and silky, warmth blossoming down his throat and into his belly.

"Five hundred dollars a bottle?" Jack echoed, before following suit and downing the contents in one. "Whoooo! That is smooooth, brother!"

MacGyver grinned. "I would hope so, all things considered." He reached out to refill both of their glasses, only to hiss in pain when the movement jogged his shoulder.

Jack slapped his hand away. "I'll do it." He kept one one eye on the Mac, who was rubbing carefully at his shoulder, while pouring them another round. "Where's your sling?" he asked.

"In my room," MacGyver replied, as he accepted his glass. "I'm fine." Sure he was sore, dislocating your shoulder hurt like a bitch, but he would heal. He always healed.

"You'd be better with the sling strapped on," Jack countered, but that was all he would say about it. For now. "So...what's up with the candles?"

MacGyver couldn't help but chuckle before explaining. "Bozer thought they would help me relax. Aroma therapy candles."

Jack snorted. "So are they helping?"

"I have no idea." MacGyver took another sip of the Scotch before focusing his attention on the dancing flames in the fire pit. He was tired, his shoulder ached and his heart felt surprisingly brittle in this moment. On the plus side, he wasn't alone.

"So...why are we drinking $500 scotch?" Jack asked, after a long moment of silence had drifted between them.

After another long silence, Mac replied, "Two reasons."

Jack was more than a little bit curious. "Which are?" he prompted.

"One, remember how you made me promise never to drink alone?" MacGyver stared at the golden liquid in his glass as he swirled it slowly.

"I remember." Jack was glad Mac had remembered and had listened to him. It was obvious the kid was hurting, Jack just wasn't sure why. "What's the second reason?"

Without thinking, Mac shrugged. His shoulder pinged with pain and he caught his breath and breathed through it before cursing at his own stupidity. "Dammit!"

Jack was on his knees beside him in a heartbeat. "You okay? Can I get you anything? Should I call someone?" He felt himself starting to panic. All the color had leeched out of Mac's face and Jack hated seeing his friend in pain.

"I'm fine...I just need a minute." MacGyver took a few shaky breaths in and out and finally relaxed as the pain started to fade to a tolerable ache. He figured another glass or two of Scotch and the pain wouldn't even be an issue.

"You don't look fine," Jack countered. "But at least you don't look like you're about to pass out any minute." Moving back to his own chair, Jack grabbed his glass and took a giant swallow. "Anyway, what's the second reason?"

MacGyver frowned, but then he remembered what they'd been talking about. The Scotch. "Do you know what today is?"

It was Jack's turn to frown as he considered. He figured it had to be a trick question, but he'd be damned if he could figure out where MacGyver was going with it. So he gave the obvious answer. "Wednesday?"

"Yes, but besides that...it's Nikki's birthday," Mac drawled, before finishing off his second glass and reaching for the bottle to pour another measure. "I bought this Scotch for her as part of her birthday present. She told me once how she always wanted to try a $500 dollar bottle of Glenlivet to see if it really was better than the cheaper stuff."

"I can honestly say it is better, "Jack replied, feeling his stomach drop a bit. He knew how much MacGyver had loved Nikki. The kid had been gutted when he'd thought she died. Finding out that Nikki was alive and had chosen to betray him had broken Mac even more. "What was the rest of her present?" Jack asked, because he knew that, that was part of why the kid had invited him here. To talk about it. And that meant something to Jack because MacGyver wasn't one to talk about things or share his emotions. But he was trusting Jack to be there for him tonight, and he was not about to let the kid down.

MacGyver pushed out of his chair with his good arm, glass held in the other hand. He moved cautiously, wincing a bit as he jarred his shoulder, then he was up and he paced over to the railing to look out over the valley. He and Nikki used to stand there, staring up at the stars at night. He didn't want to talk about her or think about her and, yet, she was all he could think about. So MacGyver was hoping that talking about her with Jack might help him shake off the hold she had on him. He needed to move forward, but every time he tried to do that, it was as if she knew and popped up to remind him of her existence in some way.

Heaving a sigh, MacGyver took another swallow of Scotch before blurting out, "I planned a trip to the Grand Canyon. Two weeks, and I had the time off already approved. Nikki told me how she had always wanted to see the grand Canyon when she was a little girl, and how she wanted to ride mule's up the trail and camp out and all those things you do at the Grand Canyon." Feeling Jack join him, Mac turned just enough to point at the burnt curls and ash in the fire pit that had once been their trip packet. "I got the confirmation email the day before the whole bio-weapon fiasco when we thought she'd died. The packet was in the mail when I got home from the hospital. I tossed it in a drawer and forgot about it...until today."

"That stinks, man," Jack stated, with the utmost sincerity. His young friend had been through so much trauma in his short life time, and it seemed like the universe continued to kick him in the pants time and again. Luckily, MacGyver was the type of guy to kick back. Still, it was hard seeing him hurting like this. "So what's the plan for tonight? Drink ourselves into oblivion? Cuz, I'm in. Although I have to warn you - whether it's cheap Scotch or the good stuff, the hangover is going to suck."

"That was one of the options," Mac confirmed. He smiled at his friend. "I do have a cheat for the end result though. My Grandfather's guaranteed hangover remedy. I can tell you, from experience, that it works."

Jack considered Mac's words then he frowned as a certain memory hit him. "Wait a minute. So that time is Mazatlan when I challenged you to a drink off and I woke up the next day wishing I was dead, and you were all chipper and smiley...you took your grandfather's remedy?"

Mac couldn't lie. "I did, but so did you." He remembered that day all too well. For the most part Jack was a funny drunk. There had been dancing on bar tops and dart playing while blind-folded. Turns out Jack wasn't very proficient at either and when he'd nailed the bartender with a dart in the ass, they had gotten kicked out. Surprisingly *good times* over all, Mac thought, fondly.

"What do you mean, so did I?" Jack didn't remember drinking any remedy. He totally remembered loud music, pretty women, something to do with darts and a heavy metal drummer taking up residence inside his skull the next morning. But nothing about a remedy.

"Remember that orange juice I made you drink, after you puked on the waitresses' shoes?" MacGyver grinned remembering how the woman had slapped Jack for that one. Which was when Mac had taken pity on him and given him the remedy.

Jack considered for a moment, then nodded. "I do remember that." He rubbed his jaw at the phantom sting. "She had one hell of a right arm. I also remember you almost forcing that orange juice down my throat because, I have to tell you, orange juice after puking is not a good combination."

MacGyver grinned. "True, but remember how good you felt about twenty minutes later?"

"I do remember that." Jack narrowed his gaze at MacGyver. "You put the hangover remedy in the orange juice?"

"It works better with Cranberry juice, but they didn't have any so I made due with what we had," Mac explained. "But, yes...that's what I did."

Jack chuckled. "And here, all this time, I thought they had magical orange juice." He shook his head at himself. "Well, I'll be. So what's in the remedy?" Jack figured he could memorize it for future use.

Mac shook a finger at him. "Can't tell you, it's a MacGyver family secret."

"You could always adopt me," Jack teased.

"Interesting offer but...pass." MacGyver smiled at his friend. "Don't worry, I'll keep you supplied as needed."

Jack considered that fair enough. "So if option number one is getting plastered, what's option number two?" He hoped it was something more productive.

MacGyver tilted his head up to the night sky, eyes tracking in search of the big dipper, something he had done since he was a little kid. Sighing softly, he confessed, "I haven't really gotten that far. Drinking seemed like the obvious option."

"Talking might be a better one." Jack snagged MacGyver's glass and walked it back to the table with his own. He capped the bottle then returned to his friend's side. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I wish Nikki had died that day." Jack had loved her, when they had been a team. When they had all believed she was on the same side. Their side.

"I know what you mean." MacGyver understood what Jack was saying. "If she was dead I could let her go and move on." Scrubbing the fingers of his good arm through his hair, MacGyver wished there was a way to turn off his emotions. A kill switch. "She's out there, Jack. It makes me crazy knowing that she's out there and not knowing when she's going to pop up again. I need to understand why she did what she did."

Jack could answer that one. "Money. She did it for the money, Mac. She said as much."

She had, but MacGyver knew it was more than that. "There's more to it than that, Jack. I just need to figure out what it is."

"You'll just make yourself go crazy, bro." Jack made to clap MacGyver on the shoulder then thought the better of it. He already felt bad enough that he was the reason the kid had dislocated his shoulder in the first place.

They had been in some jungle, Jack had already forgotten which one, and running from the bad guys, with the information they needed in hand, when they'd run out of ground. MacGyver had shouted a warning and Jack had tried skidding to a stop, but he ended up sliding over the side of a cliff and he'd thought for sure he was a goner. Until a hand had blamped around his wrist, stopping his fall. But not without a price. MacGyver's shoulder had popped out but the kid hadn't said a word, not even after Jack had pulled himself back up over the edge to lie on solid ground.

Mac could feel Jack's eyes on him and glancing over, he knew exactly what his friend was thinking about. "What happened wasn't your fault, Jack. You didn't fall over a cliff on purpose."

"No, I did not," Jack concurred. "I don't remember, did I thank you for saving me?" He knew he had, but it bore repeating, repeatedly.

"No thanks are necessary and you know it." MacGyver would have punched Jack with his good arm, but he knew it would only serve to hurt his bad side. "You'd do the same for me. You have done the same for me."

Jack fingered his chin as if stroking a non-existent goatee. "Hmmm...I don't recall saving you from falling over a cliff. I'm pretty sure I remember such an event."

MacGyver laughed, as he knew he was intended to. "Maybe not, but you've saved me in countless other ways." He paused to consider then said, "Including stopping me from drinking myself stupid."

"I dunno, Mac." Jack peered at him through a narrowed gaze. "I don't think there's enough alcohol in the world to make you stupid."

"Nice compliment, but different kind of stupid." Mac, carefully, shoulder-bumped his friend.

Jack grinned. "I have an option number three. If you're interested."

It had to be better than wallowing in booze and pity. "Lay it on me," Mac invited.

"Let's raid Bozer's DVD stash and watch all the bad Jackie Chan movies." Jack was actually excited at the thought. Even the bad Jackie Chan movies had great outtakes. To sweeten the deal he added, "I'll make popcorn."

"You always burn the popcorn." MacGyver figured he could do worse than Jackie Chan movies. At least Jack's commentary was always entertaining. "You raid the stash, so Bozer can't blame me." Mac chuckled when Jack glared at him. "I'll make the popcorn. Deal?"

Jack offered a fist bump. "Deal." He headed for the door with Mac right behind him and ten minutes later they were eating popcorn and mocking Killer Meteors.

Two hours later they had just started watching Drunken Master, when Mac fell asleep on the couch. Jack covered him with a blanket and finished watching the movie with Bozer, who forgave him for breaking into his stash since he'd been keeping watch over MacGyver.

When the movie was over, Jack collected the bottle of Scotch and said goodnight to Bozer. He drove him, whistling to himself, knowing that MacGyver was going to be okay.

The next day, Mac showed up with donuts and tickets to an *invitation only* car show in San Diego. He handed over his keys. "You drive."

Jack slid behind the wheel. "Where's your sling?"

"In the back." Mac pointed over his shoulder.

"You're going to wear it at the car show," Jack stated. He used his *this is not open for discussion* tone.

MacGyver grinned. Jack was always looking out for him. "We'll see." They fell into a companionable silence as Jack pulled out of the driveway and headed down the street. After a few miles Mac said, "Thanks."

Jack replied, "You're welcome." Then he turned the radio on and found the country station and began to sing along.

For once MacGyver didn't change the channel.

THE END