Chapter Text
[classified]
Early December 2021
Mac
The origin of the phrase “Money can’t buy happiness” actually came from philosopher and writer Jean-Jacques Rousseau in 1750. For him, though, it was written in the form “money buys everything, except morality and citizens”.
What does it mean? It means you can’t buy friends and you can’t buy honesty. I will say, though, in our situation? It can do quite a bit to get us there.
The weekend was a great way to reboot. Sure, we all spent the forty-eight hours away from each other, but I think we’re coming back stronger. The money hasn’t come in yet, sure, but we’re all able to breathe.
Considering we’ve all managed to become multi-millionaires, the Phoenix is funded practically in perpetuity… it’s a wild thought to consider. In the last forty-eight hours, so many things have come to a head. Jack and Sarah have disappeared. I can only assume they’re somewhere along the Amalfi Coast. Considering she’s sticking around for a while, I don’t blame them. Instead of taking her reinstatement from the CIA, she’s staying here. I can’t help but think of the reasons why.
Leanna and Bozer, they’ve left to go visit her parents for a bit longer this time. As Russ promised, at the very least.
AJ let me know that she spoke to Nikki about the whole case situation. She’s been filled in, and she’s back running her own cases again, not concerned about these paintings, who they belong to. At least that chapter is closed for her and she can move on.
When it comes to some of our current problems, it seems like Anya Vitez has gone back underground. Carrick is about to go to trial in Australia. Things are looking better, even as I run into my dad on the stairwell heading to the computer lab to talk to Riley. He looks as shocked as I do. I don’t know why I’m constantly surprised to see him. Maybe all the years I spent wanting to see him and him not being there. I’m still not used to it.
“Son,” He says, exhaling a little as he smiles. The wrinkles near the corners of his eyes deepen. “I just was talking to your wife.”
I can’t help my own smile when he says it. Over six months, and it still makes me happy. Guess that’s one of the things Rousseau was talking about. “As my wife, or as Oversight?”
“Little bit of both,” he says, and when he slips his hand on his hip, pushing his jacket away from his side, I can see his gun. I gesture towards it quizzically.
“I thought Harps had that. She finally returned it?”
He nods solemnly, but he still smiles a little when he leans onto the railing. “Yeah. As part of my ‘partial reinstatement’. My labs are coming back clean, I’m healing, all thanks to you.”
I shrug sheepishly. “I mean, I didn’t… I just… yeah, I guess I did, didn’t I?”
“There it is,” he says. “There’s that MacGyver confidence. Well, if I’m honest, it’s probably a bit more of the Hayes confidence.”
“I think I get it from both sides,” I say with a smirk.
I think I could get used to this kind of relationship with my father, even as he pats a hand on my shoulder and heads downstairs, angling for the War Room, it seems. Things are different now. I’d like to pretend sometimes like they aren’t, like we haven’t made up to the point where we are, but still. That little boy grudge wants to come out again.
I tamp it down. It’s obvious I want him around. Why would I have sunk so much time, energy, and hell, even money into that cancer research that saved his life if I didn’t? Or donated bone marrow to help him heal?
I know I want him here. It’s just reminding myself of it sometimes.
So I head back down on my pathway towards the computer lab, and when I hear Riley’s laugh, I lean into the doorway. She sits at one of the computers, not her normal rig, in the mostly empty lab. She looks like she’s not breathing, because her face is turning purple as she wipes tears from her eyes. Shaw sits dangerously close to her chair, his arm resting casually around the back of it, keeping the rolling chair from moving too much as she wheezes. He sits there with a wide grin on his face, almost maniacal, giggling to himself as he watches Riley.
“You good?” I hear him say, still giggling. She smacks his arm lightly, moving her chair a little as she does. He doesn’t stop beaming.
“No! I’m not good! Shut up,” she says, taking both hands and wiping her face. “God, I hate you so much.”
“I didn’t do a thing, I don’t know what you’re saying,” he chuckles, glancing up at the door. “Oh! Hey, Mac!”
Almost immediately, Riley turns to look at me with wide eyes, the tear streaks still on her face as she tries to straighten. “Hey! Hey, Mac,” she says, clearing her throat. “I have news for you.”
“You two look like you’re having fun,” I comment, slipping down into the chair next to Riley and looking over her screen. I can’t make heads or tails of it, but I know she can. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
Shaw stands up, and Riley glances back up to him. I see the color on her cheeks as she smiles. “You headed out?”
“Yeah, figured I would give you two some time to talk about ‘work stuff’,” he says, throwing up his fingers in quotes. “Seems important. Anyway, I have a fight I need to get into with Dalton, so let me know when you need me, yeah?”
He bounces on his feet, giving the two of us a little salute as he leaves, nearly colliding with the glass door to the lab. I watch him leave, but so does Riley, and I see her eyes go hazy after he’s long gone. I consider snapping my fingers in front of her face, but honestly, I just want to see how long it takes. After entirely too long, she finally draws in a sharp breath, letting it out as she blinks.
“What was that, Riley Davis?” I tease her, crossing my arms and spinning a little in the chair.
“That, Angus MacGyver, was absolutely nothing,” she says way too fast, starting to type on her computer. I see the deepening color in her cheeks. It’s not hard to notice. “So. Here’s some updates, and you can pass them along to AJ when she gets out of her meetings today. Last I heard, she was about to holler on the phone at a…. the assistant director of the… Fugitive Division? INTERPOL? I don’t remember. Name was…. Sanchez, I think.”
“I’m a glorified secretary,” I say, trying not to get emotional whiplash. “What’s up?”
“The Brink is putting together Melanie Blackwood’s entire dossier as we speak,” she says, pulling up a file. I see more information on the woman than I ever thought possible, but then again, Riley is training her team. “Location. Home base. And with Anya Vitez going underground, we think we have enough information that says Blackwood got her out of prison. We’ll have enough information to go after her soon. Like, days, if we wanted to.”
“Blackwood moves fast, but the Brink moves faster,” I tease, squinting as I look over the information. She quickly shifts it to another photo, and this one I’m not sure I recognize. Still, even though she knows he left, I see her eyes flicker towards the door.
“Lieutenant Colonel Theodore MacCullum,” she says, quieter this time. “We’ve got his official dossier too.”
“Shaw’s old commander. We have a plan of attack on this one yet?” I ask her, and she smirks, glancing at me.
“That’s your area of expertise, not mine,” she says. “But I think we could go after him just like we could Blackwood.”
“Sounds easy enough.”
“It’s never that easy.”
“No, things are… never that easy,” she mumbles, typing a little more as she goes quiet.
“How was Oakland?” I ask her, trying not to seem like I’m fishing. I definitely am. There’s no question about that. “Did you enjoy the show?”
She stops typing, looking down at the keyboard under her hands. I glance up at her, trying to read her face from here, but she just gets a gentle smile on her lips. “It was… great. The show was great. I’m still trying to figure out everything that’s going on around here, but yeah. Things are great.”
“What, the concept that we’re all gonna be okay for the first time in our lives?” I say, leaning on my elbow as I try to get closer. She almost seems to be trying to keep her eyes off of me on purpose. I just keep smiling. I can’t stop.
“Yeah, yeah, I think so,” she says, shifting in her seat. “Mac, knock it off.”
“Knock what off?”
“You’re hovering and I don’t know why.”
“I think you know exactly why.”
She groans, moving her hands from her keyboard to her face, making her verbal anguish muffled. “Remember, a couple years ago, when you took me to that one brunch spot in La Brea?”
I squint, trying to think back that far, but I know exactly what she’s talking about. I know exactly what we were there for, and I know exactly what happened afterwards.
“I’m not sure I remember, why?” I say, and she sighs.
“You’re a horrible liar.”
“I’m literally a professional liar, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“It was before we went to laser tag. You know, before you and AJ finally had your heart to heart.”
“I know exactly the moment you’re talking about, but why are you bringing it up?”
“Because you brought up Oakland.”
I straighten, suddenly surprised and shocked that she would be so direct. “So you’re finally admitting it?”
She lets her eyes flicker towards the door, almost making sure that no one is listening. I mean, we’re still a surveillance organization. She of all people knows that everything that happens in most of the common areas is recorded in perpetuity. But still, it’s the thought that counts.
“I’m not sure what I’m admitting to, exactly,” she says, crossing her arms tight over her chest. She’s trying to protect herself. She’s trying to protect her heart. I get it. “I don’t know. Just since May, since they came here, it’s just been… nice. Nice to have Mitch around. He’s… he’s different, and I can’t ignore it, you know?”
“He’s not actively trying to pursue you in a way that’s aggressive or unwanted,” I say gently.
“Yeah. That might be it. That, and he’s not… he’s not trying to be charming or… or suave. He lets himself be awkward, and he almost thrives in it. He lives so unapologetically and is just… him. And I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone know me for who I am and stick around like he has.”
“We have.”
“You don’t count,” she says, nudging me with her shoulder.
“And why’s that?”
The glare she gives me has no bite. “I told you. Mitch is different.”
“You call him Mitch while the rest of us call him Shaw,” I gently accuse.
“It doesn’t feel right sometimes,” she says, brushing her hair back from her face. “It’s just something so natural. But there are times when I feel like I’m gonna lose him.”
“Like in September,” I whisper.
“Like September,” she repeats. “And I guess at that moment, I realized how terrified I was about him disappearing. Dying. Going away. He was gonna go back to Australia before I convinced him to stay.”
“How did you do that?” I ask. Somehow, I’m both surprised and not surprised at all.
She just lets out a long sigh. “I just talked to him. Told him that we couldn’t bear to have him leave now.”
“We?”
She stops, looking away, looking at some of the computers, looking at anything but me.
“You’re scared,” I say. “I get it. It’s exactly how it was with me and AJ.”
“It’s nothing like you and AJ,” she says, backtracking. “I mean, he’s just…”
“You’re worried about losing him, and how close you feel to him, so you’d prefer to keep him at arms’ length rather than let yourself fall for him.”
“What if he doesn’t feel the same?” She says, finally looking at me with wide eyes. “I can’t jeopardize what we have.”
“We had this exact conversation, reversed, about Harps. And you see how that turned out,” I say, giving her a little wave with my left hand. She quickly shoves it back down against the desk.
“I don’t even know what I feel, though, Mac. I don’t even know what it is, and it terrifies me.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s not like my other relationships, okay? It’s not like dating Aubrey or… or Billy. It’s not the same.”
“Maybe it’s because Shaw isn’t the same,” I say. “He’s not like them. He could never be like them. And I think that concept scares you, too. Stop thinking like you deserve someone like Billy Colton. Start thinking like you deserve someone like Mitchell Shaw.”
I stand up, and she follows me with her eyes, still a bit hazy, a bit teary, and a lot confused. In fact, she can’t really say anything in response, and instead, seems to shake it out.
“I’ve just got a lot to think about,” she murmurs.
“You never answered my question before,” I tease. She just looks even more confused, so I continue. “I wanted to know how Oakland was.”
“It was amazing,” she says dreamily. “He flew us over. He literally flew us there. You know, I don’t think I’ve ever been in the cockpit when they’ve taken off. He can fly pretty much anything, I knew this, but he still acted like it wasn’t a big deal. I got ready on the plane, before I knew it, he was asking me where I wanted to go to dinner. He had a list, Mac. He made me choose. I honestly don’t know how he did it so fast. The show was… fantastic. I’ve always wanted to see Phantom.”
“I never knew that about you.”
“It’s not something I typically share,” he says softly.
“Shaw knows.”
“He knows a lot.”
“What happened after?”
“Well, we went back to the plane, and we flew back to LA,” she says, almost dreamily. “I drove him home, back to his apartment, and we just… drank a little, stayed up way too late, and I ended up staying.”
“You did what?”
She chuckles. “He let me take his bed, he slept on the couch, Mac. It’s not like that. He’s not like that. I drove home the next morning after he made me what he called ‘real’ breakfast food.”
“Riles,” I chide. “If you don’t think he doesn’t feel something for you, I don’t know what to tell you.”
“I don’t know either,” she admits. “I wanna find out but I’m terrified to try.”
I nod. “I know that feeling. I do. Just don’t take too much time.”
She gives me a little smile as I head out and into the hallway. I know I should be going to talk to Harps, to give her the information that she needs— the information, more importantly, that Riles just gave me—but I find myself on a one way route to the boxing ring. I’m not sure whether I’ll catch him by the time I make it down there, but by the way it looks, he and Jack are in lock step in the ring, circling each other as they desperately look for a way out. I’m not sure who’s winning. I’m not sure if there even could be a winner. Regardless, Jack bobs and weaves as Shaw tries to lay him out.
I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Of course, Jack jukes him enough and just absolutely slams a punch against the side of Shaw’s head, dropping him and letting him skid against the pads. I’m worried for about six seconds as Shaw lays there for a second, gloved hands pressed against the floor, but he shakes out his head.
“C’mon, there, Aussie, you gotta get right back up and try again, huh?” Jack says, holding out a hand for Shaw. With the barest hint of difficulty, he cringes, taking Jack’s hand as he pulls Shaw back up to his feet.
“I might need a break after that one,” he says, trying to get steady once more. “Damn, Jack, you hit hard sometimes.”
“Sometimes? I resent that.”
Shaw chuckles, grinning widely as he wipes his nose with his hand. “Well, when you’re as old as you are, you’ve earned the right to not have to punch as hard.”
“I’m gonna punch you harder if you keep actin’ like that, Aussie.”
“He’s probably gonna walk out of here and get ice for his fist because he didn’t know he could still handle it,” I say, pulling out of the shadows. Shaw beams when he sees me. I don’t know why I’m surprised, but it still doesn’t stop me from feeling a sense of pride.
“Thanks, Jack, but I’m done for the day,” he says, scratching the back of his neck as he starts towards the edges of the ring. Jack points at me.
“Hey, wanna get in here with me? You know, like we used to? Before you got married?”
“Why would I want to fight with you, an old man, when I can spar with my wife.”
Jack makes a face. “Really, dude? Really. You gotta make it weird.”
“You’re the one who made it weird,” I say. “Hey, Shaw, you got a minute?”
He nods towards the locker room, wiping his face with his cutoff before finding his way inside and flopping down onto one of the benches. He does look tired, but I’m not gonna call him out for that. I know that anxiety and post-traumatic stress and fear do not run linearly. He’s definitely more of himself lately, but that doesn’t mean things will be entirely perfect. That’s not the way life works.
Regardless, he starts to unwind the wrappings on his hands as he looks up at me. “What’s up? Everything alright?”
“What? Oh. Yeah. Everything’s alright. Just thought we could catch up,” I say, leaning against the lockers. “How are you doing?”
He almost looks surprised. It’s not like we don’t speak to each other, but there’s a hopefulness to his expression. “Oh, I’m doing… I’m doing alright. Thanks for asking. Things have been a bit… a bit better the last few days.”
We’ve noticed. We’ve all noticed. The stutter that had threatened to take him over completely has finally started to taper off. That’s when you know it’s a psychological issue, and he’s made his own strides to get past it.
“Mac?”
I blink, realizing I’m staring off into space again, and he gives me a little nod to try to get me to speak, I think.
“Oh, right. Uh, did Riles tell you about what she’s found?”
“About MacCullum?” He says, suddenly straightening, unwrapping his hands. He’s almost too focused on it.
“So she spoke to you. I’m sure AJ will want to take him down. I just wanted to make sure you were aware that it was coming down soon.”
“I know,” he says, his entire demeanor shifting. I almost hate myself for bringing it up, but it’s better for him to know than for it to surprise him.
“Do you have any information about him that we should know?” I pry. I can’t help it. I want to know more, I want to know what we’re facing. I want to know what to expect.
“He’s a monster,” he says simply, focusing on his other hand. “He has a thirty plus year career in the SAS. He’s supposed to be one of the best. We were in Africa. 2013. Start of the year. We really technically weren’t there.” He gives me a look, raising his eyebrow at me.
“I’m familiar. You know, we work for Phoenix.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I know. The fact is, we were in the Central African Republic in March. There was an ongoing civil war, and we had some interest in the situation there. That’s where we were operating at the time, and then the Battle of Bangui hit. You know what happened?”
“End of March 2013, rebel forces wanted their political prisoners released and their forces to be integrated into the national army. They also wanted the South African soldiers to leave, but they only gave them 72 hours to do so. A couple of days later, they came into Bangui, started cutting the power. The French forces secured the airport, but they started fighting in the city center. The rebels took the presidential palace and the president fled, and they controlled the city by noon the next day.”
“You pretty much nailed it,” Shaw says. “We were right in the middle of it. It started with MacCullum’s unit. They were in Bangui, we were nearby. They called for help, and by the time that we got there, many of his men were gone.”
He adjusts on the bench, not looking at me as he leans his clasped hands against his knees.
“I heard the screaming, and me and one of my men followed me. We went to check it out, and I found MacCullum. You see, he was surrounded by civilians. They… they used to be civilians. They were murdered. Killed. And I had reason to believe that the carnage surrounding him was because of him. When you step into a building like that, with as much rage and as much self-righteousness as MacCullum, you know there’s gonna be a moment when he’s just gonna… snap. He snapped in Bangui. And within a week, I crashed into South Sudan and was essentially a prisoner of war for three months. He knew I was gonna report him. He knew, and he purposely tried to stop me. Finch just solidified that in my head for me.”
“I’m sorry, I—”
“Nah,” he says, shaking his head and cutting me off. “No. I wanna go after him. I wanna bring him to justice. I deserve that.”
“You do,” I say, leaning against the lockers. “You really do, and I hope you’re given that chance.”
“The man committed war crimes, MacGyver. I fully intend on making sure he pays for what he did.”
It comes out so sharp, I'm actually shocked. He gives me that dark look, one that I don't see when he's around Riley.
“Do you… do you have any proof?”
He chuckles, looking down at his hands. That dark look slips away almost as quickly as it comes. “Honestly, no. But when you’re as brutal as he is, I’m sure we can get him on something else. I don’t need to get him on what he did to me. I just want to get him.”
“You’ve got a lot of people in your corner. We’re definitely gonna try.”
“I’ve learned that,” he murmurs. “That tends to happen around here, doesn’t it?”
“What, people supporting you?”
“It’s not like I don’t know what it feels like. I’ve been in supportive relationships before. But it’s always just been Sam. Sam and Allie. It’s never been… everyone. There’s such a large group of people here that keep checking in on me, keep making sure that I’m okay. It’s weird. It’s strange for me to try to wrap my head around.”
“People love you here, Shaw. That’s for certain,” I say with a chuckle. He just starts to break into a smirk, so I push a little further. “Riley told me about your trip to Oakland.”
“Oh, we had a great time,” he says, his entire demeanor changing as he straightens up. “I actually, uh, well, I kinda… I kinda like musicals, but don’t tell Jack.”
“Your secret’s safe with me,” I say. “You like hanging out with Riles, huh?”
“She’s probably one of my best friends,” He seems to admit. It comes out so quietly, like he’s not even sure of it himself. “Things are different with Riley. She’s different.”
“Is she now?” I say. I can’t help perking up. This sounds familiar. “What do you mean?”
“She doesn’t seem to… she doesn’t expect anything from me. She’s gentle and kind and she says what she means. She doesn’t play games. She’s not trying to be anything she’s not. I know her. I know her. Only a few other people in my life have let that happen. She stuck around, Mac. You all did, but she… Riley did. She made me want to stay. In many different ways,” he drifts off.
“Shaw, did you ever… you know, want something more from Riles?”
It’s a cautious question, but he seems to laugh. It’s not awkward. It’s not even confused. It’s just a laugh.
“What? What do you mean?”
It’s just so innocent. I don’t even think he realizes what I’m asking. He doesn’t even know.
“If she wanted something more from you, would you be interested?”
“I don’t know what you’re asking me.”
I look down at the ground, but I decide it’s not even worth pushing at this point. If he can’t figure it out, I don’t know what to tell him.
“Alright, here’s the deal,” I say, dropping my voice low. “Riley… doesn’t date the right guys. She doesn’t do well with romantic relationships, period. If there ever comes a point where… you and Riley decide to take that step, this is me… simply reminding you about Billy Colton.”
“What do you mean? Didn’t AJ string him up in the desert? And in Mexico, she shot him?” He asks.
I pat his shoulder. “Yeah. Don’t be like Billy Colton, alright?”
I turn, heading out of the room, when I hear him again.
“Hey, Mac?”
With a turn in the doorway, I look back to him. I don’t see fear. I see that familiar sparkle in his eye. He smirks a little.
“Thanks for checkin’ on me,” he says. “I appreciate it.”
I nod, heading out.
Not even a blink of an eye when I practically give him AJ’s blanket threat. Either Riley’s feelings are unrequited—which is entirely unlikely—or Shaw has no concept of hurting Riley anywhere in the molecules in his body.
Good for him. Maybe this situation could end up better than any of us thought.
I have so much to tell Harps.