#macgyver drabble

[nativestarwrites]

Pick a number, get a drabble

Hurt/Comfort Dialogue Prompts

"I know you're hurt."

"You're burning up."

"Just breathe."

"I don't feel good."

"Eyes on me! C'mon keep those eyes on me."

"That's a lot of blood."

"Come on, breathe, breathe, don't you dare--"

"How long were you planning on hiding this?"

"Easy, easy. You're okay, I've got you."

"I can't find a pulse!"

"Don't you dare die on me."

"Everything's okay, go back to sleep."

"can't--breathe--"

"I won't hurt you."

"Talk to me."

"Stay still."

“You don’t look so good.”

“I think I’m gonna – ”

“Tell me where you are, I’ll come get you.”

“Please stop.”

“How much sleep did you get last night?”

“It’s over now.”

“I’m okay. You don't need to worry about me.”

"You're not supposed to be up and about."

“Go to sleep. I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

[m0ns00n53]

BRIEFING — ASPIRIN

Matty was ready to throttle someone. Two someones.

The first man on her list cocked his head, slouching, ass balanced on the couch arm in a way that had her hand itching to smack it off. “Lemme get this straight,” he drawled. “We just landed, and you want us to turn right back around an’ hightail it to France, catch this…Mon-syur Dumb-ass—“

“Dumas—no,” the other half of Matty’s headache grouched, relaxing from parade rest to throw an exasperated look at his partner. “You know what? I’m not doing this right now.”

“Aw, hoss—“

“Don’t play innocent, I still remember when you pinned me down and made me watch that movie with you—“

“Well, Bozer’s got a lot to answer for, that was neglect—“

“Boys!”

Both froze, eyes darting to where Matty stood resisting the temptation to massage her forehead.

“Agent Bozer,” she said, deadly calm. “Is already on-board with Davis. But I understand if you’re cranky from missing naptime. I’ll send them alone, inform Oversight that they hired toddlers—“

“Goin’!” echoed down the hallway with thumping boots. “Ain’t swimmin’ through no damn sewer, though!”

“You can’t swim in…” Rolling his eyes, Mac followed. “It’s toxic!

Quiet.

Finally.

[rosieblogstuff]

Trick or treat!

It's a treat, I hope! Something like 2 years ago I wrote this drabble about Mac and Jack getting kidnapped and waking up in Murdoc's torture dungeon, which seems like such a fitting setting for Halloween. So here's a little follow-up. More than a line, but I doubt anyone's objecting.

---

Before Mac could figure out how to get the cell door open, the outer door of the room opened. Murdoc was all smiles as he entered the room again. “How’s it going in here, friends? Made any decisions yet? Or do you need a little more time to talk it over?” He looked between them, raising his brows expectantly. “No? Well, I guess it’ll be surprise time for everyone, then! How fun.” Still smiling, he pulled a gun out of his jacket and aimed it toward them. “Who’s going to play my little game first?”

Mac gave him a hard stare, doing his best to look defiant and not at all concerned about what the psychopath with the gun would do if they didn’t volunteer themselves for a torture session. 

“Me.” 

Jack elbowed him aside, putting himself between Mac and the gun.

Mac's jaw dropped, not that Jack could see it now that his back was to Mac. “Jack?” he hissed. What happened to just waiting? What happened to not playing the game, like they'd just agreed would be their strategy? 

Jack ignored him and Murdoc opened the cell door, a grin on his face. “Very good, though I must say, a little expected. Step out and don’t try anything funny, or I’ll shoot Angus first.”

[appalachianapologies]

uhhhhh drabble without context :)

“Mac?” Frown deepening, Riley takes a few steps forward. “Hey. Are you… okay?” It’s a monumentally stupid thing to ask given that Riley doesn’t even think she’s okay, but Mac’s supposed to be the seasoned agent here. Plus, as much as she hates to think about it, Riley’s pretty sure that Mac’s seen worse when he was in the Army disarming bombs, or whatever it was that he did out there.

When she puts her hand on his shoulder, all she gets is a shudder. “Mac, I think you’re in shock.”

This time, he swallows. “I’m okay.”

“Do you know where you are?”

“Home.”

“Where’s home?”

This time, Mac moves with sudden movements, nearly smacking Riley in the face with the speed at which he turns. “Where’s Jack?”

“Mac, where’s home for you?”

“Here. Where’s Jack?”

She just barely stops herself from sighing. Moving until she’s in front of Mac’s face again, Riley desperately looks for some sign of concussion or something to explain his behavior. “Tell me where you are.”

“California.”

Truth be told, Riley was hoping for a more specific answer, but at this point she’ll take it as a win.

“I need to get Jack-”

“He’s okay.”

Mac shakes his head, taking a step away from Riley. “I need to- they’ll never let me go out if the sun sets, I-”

“Hey, hey! You don’t need to rescue him. He’s fine.” Against her better judgement, Riley reaches for his arm, hoping that the action will ground him and not cause her to end up with a bloody nose. “Mac, look at me. Jack’s at the Phoenix right now. I mean, he’s a little busted up, but he’s also not the only one.”

This time, it’s Mac’s turn to frown. “Are you hurt?”

Riley tightens her grip a little. “No. Mac, you were- you know what, why don’t we go get Jack?”

Belatedly, Mac nods.

When they brought her onto DXS, Riley really wasn’t expecting the guy who could hack everything other than computers, the guy who couldn’t possibly be older than her but still seemed to have all the confidence in the world, to look like this. And for the first time in her adult life, Riley would be willing to admit, out loud, that she wishes Jack Dalton were here.

[authorangelita]

17. “You don’t look so good.”

Thank you for the ask!

Jack kicked the door down and cautiously entered the room, sweeping his gun from left to right as he cleared the space.  It was empty except for a chair in the center occupied by his partner and a bare lightbulb hanging above Mac's head. 

Mac was tied to the chair at his wrists and ankles with rope and duct tape.  He was disheveled with torn, blood-stained clothes.  Jack had to push down his anger when Mac slowly raised his head and showed his bruised face with one eye swollen shut.

"Hey, hoss, long time no see," Jack joked as he put his gun away and pulled out his tactical knife to cut Mac free. 

"J'ck?" Mac mumbled through a busted lip. 

"You know it."  Jack sliced through the bindings around Mac's wrists.  "You don't look so good.  Where you hurt?"

"Be easier to," Mac groaned, "tell you what doesn't hurt."

Jack cursed and cut the ropes from around Mac's ankles.  "Can you move?"

"Mmhmm," Mac nodded, tried to stand, and cried out as he sank back down into the chair.

"What?"  Jack's hands fluttered around Mac's body, unsure of how to help.  "What is it?"

"Left ankle."

"Broken?"

"I don't think so, but it hurts like hell."

He hated to see Mac in pain.  It made every cell in Jack's body angry.  "The Tac team is clearing the floor, and then we'll get medics in here.  Just sit tight."

"No, I don't want to be in here anymore.  Just," he motioned for Jack to lean over and then threw his arm around Jack's neck, "help me up."

Jack put his arm around Mac's waist and gently tugged him to his feet.  Well, foot.  Mac didn't put any weight on his left side, choosing to hop out of the room with Jack as a human crutch. 

They were met halfway down the hall by the medic team, who had thoughtfully brought a collapsible stretcher.  It didn't take long to get Mac settled on the stretcher, and Jack stayed close as they carried him out of the place he'd been held captive for the last twenty-seven hours. 

Mac's hand snaked out from under the blanket the medics had draped over him to grasp Jack's wrist. 

"You're okay, bud," Jack said quietly.  "We're going home."

[justmoreocs-writing]

‘Are you all right?’ Mac asks, voice barely more than a whisper. The heels make me closer to his height than normal, but habits are difficult to break and he bows his head ever so slightly. I feel the warmth of his breath against the side of my head.

‘Never better,’ I assure him, though I’m pretty sure we both know it’s a lie. Riley would have come with less baggage to this, but it needs my skill of getting under people’s skin. Still, at least the seasickness tablets appear to be doing their job.

‘Lil –’

‘Darling,’ I purr, turning a shining smile at Mac. The concern in his eyes explains how close he came to blowing our cover, and I try to temper my guilt at being the cause of it. ‘I heard the caviar in the exclusive lounge is to die for.’

Mac’s jaw tightens ever so slightly, the only hint that he’s trying to manage his own feelings around all this. He gently moves so our arms are no longer linked, but our hands are together. He carefully laces our fingers as we walk, gives my hand a squeeze. I just hope we can sort all of this out before we spend too much time on the cruise. Before a swift extraction becomes an impossibility.

[meenaxskz]

you lost the handcuffs keys (bf!bangchan x reader)

drabble | bf!bangchan x reader au genre: light smut (just in case…but mostly crack) | crack warnings: mature suggestive content | language Summary: chan finally lets you take control in bed. you bring out the fluffy pink handcuffs and have the night of your life until it ends and you realize… you lost the keys. a/n : omg i know i vanished again i'm so sorry life’s been lifing but i promise i’m alive!! and actually working on a long hyunjin series 👀 you’ll see what i mean soon hehe. in the meantime, here’s a little chan x reader so you know i haven’t evaporated lol

tonight was your moment.

your villain arc. your dom debut.

chan looked up at you all smug and shirtless and said “i’ll let you be in charge tonight” and you said bet. you meant it with your whole chest.

you straddled him, whispered filthy things, and whipped out your secret weapon:

fluffy pink handcuffs.

he blinked.

you said “just trust me”

he said “okay babe”

you cuffed him to the headboard, kissed down his chest, and ruined him for like an hour straight. he moaned. whined. begged. called you “ma’am” at one point (he denies it now). 

and now it’s over…

you flop next to him, smug, breathless, glowing. he smiles at you, wrists still cuffed, all blissed out and ruined.

“okay” he’s panting “you can uncuff me now”

you reach for the keys. and pause. then check again.

“uhh…”

he raises an eyebrow “...what.”

“don’t panic” you say immediately. too fast. too suspicious.

“WHY WOULD I PANIC”

you sit up. open the drawer. then the other drawer. then under the bed. you pull the blanket off the bed. check under his thigh.

nothing.

“babe?” he watches you flip over a pillow aggressively “WHERE ARE THE KEYS”

“I DON’T KNOW”

“WHAT”

“I DON’T KNOWWWWWW” you scream fully flailing now “I HAD THEM AND THEN I DIDN’T AND I THINK I KICKED THEM INTO THE VOID”

he stares at you. full blown handsome disappointment.

“y/n” his voice calm but deeply scary “if you don’t uncuff me in the next five minutes i’m going to sue.”

you fake a laugh “for what??”

“improper horny procedure”

“okay no. no no no. we can fix this”

20 minutes later:

he’s still cuffed. still sweaty.

you’ve now tried:

a bobby pin

a paperclip

googling “how to pick handcuffs”

threatening the handcuffs verbally

blaming him for looking too hot and “distracting you”

“i’m gonna start crying” chan mutters “i can’t feel my left shoulder”

“shhh” you say, digging through the drawer again “i found something that might work”

“...what is that”

“...strawberry lube.”

he goes silent.

“i’ve watched macgyver. i got this.” he’s sweating.

“why do we have strawberry lube”

“...it smells good?”

“that is not…” he starts then exhales “FINE. FINE JUST GET ME OUT”

you lube the inside of the cuffs like a crazy person. he’s watching you. deadpan.

arms still cuffed. thighs still spread. dick still out.

it slides off. you shriek: “OH MY GOD I’M A GENIUS”

he sits up. rubs his wrists. squints at you.

“…don’t be mad” you whisper.

he leans forward slowly. grabs your waist. throws you onto the bed. you scream

“you’re not allowed to be in charge for at least six months”

“but babe. i freed you.!”

“...with lube”

you smile “i problem solved”

he groans “you’re banned”

“...but i already ordered a leash?”

“NO”

⤷ main m.list ❟

DISCLAIMER : This blog and all related content (fics, fake texts, headcanons, imagines, etc.) are entirely fictional and created for entertainment purposes only. I do not know Stray Kids personally, nor do I claim any of this reflects their real personalities, actions, or relationships. All characters and their personalities—including Meena King—are original creations.Please enjoy responsibly and remember : real people = real boundaries.

[ky-randomshitposting]

Got bored and made November 2024 Macgyver promts! Feel free to combine them, do whatever really just have fun!

Day 1: Heist Day 2: Birthday Day 3: Mission Gone Wrong Day 4: Secrets Day 5: A Fight Day 6: Break Up Day 7: Whump Day 8: Celebration of a Holiday Day 9: Hurt/Comfort Day 10: Cairo Day 11: Meeting Under Different Circumstances Day 12: Lost in the Forest Day 13: Disavowed Day 14: Corrupt C.I.A Day 15: Kidnapped Day 16: Kovak Mission Gone Different Day 17: Corrupt Macgyver Day 18: Formal Party Day 19: Return of an Enemy Day 20: Barely Escaping Day 21: Lies Day 22: Hospitalized Day 23: Marriage Day 24: Secret Relationship Day 25: Medical Leave Day 26: Exaustion Day 27: Grief Day 28: 5 + 1 Day 29: Double Drabble Day 30: Alone

[impossiblepluto]

I think you're right! While I was voting it felt like there were so many tough match ups (and there were!) but seeing it now after the first round it completed it doesn't feel like we lost as many favorite as I feared for a minute there

Bloodbath 🤣🤣

I do have to admit, seeing the list laid out, it's not as bad as I worried it would be this round. I'm kind of excited/proud of "Wrench" and "Fallout" tying because both of those would have been hard to lose so I'm excited they both are getting moved ahead to the next round.

I'm impressed by the fight the "Awl" put up against known fan favorite "Skyscraper"

2x04 "X-ray + Penny" of course flexed its muscles as a warning to all the others and I have not looked to see what it's matched against next round yet, my heart can't take it 🤣 And go "Flashlight" for getting as many votes!

I think the hardest losses for me personally are "Awl" and "Mardi Gras Beads + Chair" (... and "Scissors".... and "Packing Peanuts".... and "MacGyver + MacGyver".... )

And I'm really hoping that people share some photos, propaganda, and favorite moments for the next rounds!

[accidentally-in-fictional-love]

DD Emoji Ask Game

This is an emoji/ask meme just for DD's characters, which I reopen whenever my queue runs out. Included are all the popular ones (movies and TV only) I've seen in his tag with a whole ton of prompts that can be mixed and matched, so if you like my work and would like to request your own reader with one of his characters, then please shoot me an ask and take part with me 💗

Exception: I won't ever take Breck requests since I'm keeping him in his own strict universe and everything feels wrong for him and his reader (Bunny, inspired specifically by my sole requester) outside of it, same goes for Joshua after so long. Everyone else, even if they have their own series and you'd like something outside of it, is free game!

Type (Optional)

🤔 Headcanon(s)

📖 Drabble

Characters

🤹 Abner Krill (The Suicide Squad)

🎆 Abra Kadabra (The Flash)

🕸 Bob Taylor (Prisoners)

🧛‍♂️ Dr Fearless

🤡 Dwight Pollard (Gotham)

👁️ Gurathin (Murderbot)

😚 Hank (Virgin Alexander)

🦉 Jack Delroy (Late Night With the Devil)

👓 James Lewis (Teacher)

😷 Joe (Rosario)

🚬 Johnson (Reprisal)

🖌️ Joshua Whitmore (Cass, has his own series/world)

💻 Kurt (Ant-Man)

🥺 Lester Billings (The Boogeyman, also has a series/world)

⚡ Lightning (AfrAId)

🔧 Lonny Crane (The Belko Experiment)

🔫 Murdoc (MacGyver 2016)

🙏 Piter De Vries (Dune)

⛓️ Ray Watkins (The Rookie)

💣 Simon Lynch (Almost Human, also has a series/world)

🃏 Thomas Schiff (The Dark Knight)

⛵ Wojchek (The Last Voyage of the Demeter)

🥃 Wright (aka The Writer, Making Love)

🎲 Random

😶 Unlisted (Specify, can be pretty much anyone he's played)

Prompts

😢 Angst

😊 Cute

💭 Dreams

🍼 Family

😨 Fear

🐑 Fluff

🤝 Friends

❣️ Happiness

💔 Hate

⛅ Hopes

🩹 Hurt/Comfort

❤️ Love

🎵 Music/Dancing

🤗 Platonic

🥰 Romantic

🔞 Smut

🌶️ Spicy

🍭 Sweet

🎯 Random

✏️ Unlisted (Specify)

[nativestarwrites]

Can I have a drabble for #9 please?

Of course! Thanks for the ask! May I interest you in a heartbreaking Lake Como missing scene?

"Easy, easy. You're okay, I've got you." Jack scooped Mac up into his arms, practice allowing him to do this without disturbing any of Mac’s medical equipment. He hoped he wasn’t hurting Mac but really it was just wishful thinking. Pain was a constant for Mac right now, only managed, not stopped. Every night, like clockwork, Mac would wake, terrified and gasping, like he was drowning all over again. “Take a breath, bud. You’re safe, I’ve got you.” And then every night, like clockwork, the panic would melt away and in its place came the grief. As Mac remembered why he hurt, why he could taste lake water on his lips, why his heart ached, and the tears came silently. And there was nothing, nothing, Jack could do about that but hold him tighter. “I’m here, Mac. I’ve got you.” Jack pressed a kiss to his temple. “I’ve got you.”

[ao3feed-macgyver2016]

it all started with the snow

it all started with the snow https://ift.tt/RSPmW2L by impossiblepluto Words: 601, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: MacGyver (TV 2016) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Gen Characters: Jack Dalton (MacGyver TV 2016) Relationships: Jack Dalton & Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016) Additional Tags: 12 Days of Christmas Challenge, prompt: it all started with the snow, drabble x6

[rosieblogstuff]

19 for the drabble ask

Helloooooo! Thank you SO much for this prompt from like 2 months ago. I promise this did NOT fall behind a file cabinet or get eaten in the dryer, it's seriously been a 75% complete drabble for the last 2 months just w.a.i.t.i.n.g for me to actually figure out how to end it. Which I finally did, by writing another 75% so now it's so long I can't even call it a flash, let alone a drabble. 😅 WHOOPSIE.

Prompt #19 was "Tell me where you are, I'll come get you" and I got this one twice, so I decided I'd write two different drabbles and post them together. This one is drabble #2.

----

After all the time Mac spent learning to tolerate the heat in Afghanistan, it only made sense to jog in the afternoon in Los Angeles instead of in the morning temperatures. If he went out in the mild morning, it would feel like he was taking the easy way out and avoiding dealing with the heat. 

He did let himself take the easier jogging path, which was lower and wider than the hilly routes he usually picked. It had more shade but wasn’t too crowded. The civilians—no, not civilians. He wasn’t in the army anymore. The other residents of LA were not as interested in pushing themselves as hard as Mac. 

Three weeks back stateside and he still wasn’t used to the home he’d longed for while he was in the sandbox. He knew he needed more time to get reaccustomed, but knowing it and believing it weren’t the same thing. Los Angeles never truly had been his home-–just a place he occasionally visited with Harry. It might have made more sense to go back to Mission City, but Mission City felt a long time ago, and he wasn’t ready to dredge up the memories it held.

He was three-quarters of the way through his planned route, on a detour down a wide sidewalk between the park and the park access road, when a hot, dusty breeze hit him just wrong and suddenly he wasn’t jogging under on a manicured jogging path winding under the dusty brow hills of Los Angeles, but back there: in Afghanistan, sweltering in the hot, dry wind the swept across the desert steppes.

Suddenly the noise from off to his left hadn’t been a car but the echo of a gunshot. His pace stumbled and he flung himself down, skinning palms and knees when his bare skin hit sun-baked cement. The hills behind him were no longer the grayish-green of LA summer, good for jogging, but the brown-toned sides of the ridge out east of the FOB, riddled with caves, specked with sharp eyes and ready trigger fingers. The perfect spot for an ambush.

He was an easy target: a prone form on the ground, nowhere near cover. The spindly young trees to his left offered no hope of safety, but there had been a cement-block building not far ahead of him. Palms stinging, he stumbled to his feet and half-ran, half-dove toward it, and made himself small against a fold in the wall.

It had been just like this the first time their convoy drove through the wadi under those ridges. Hot and dry, and everything smelling of dust and sweat until the peace shattered in a moment and it began to smell of gunpowder and death. 

It didn’t feel like very long ago. It felt like yesterday, this morning, now. 

He needed Jack.

He reached up to his shoulder for his walkie talkie but his hand landed against cotton. He grabbed at it, his fingers rubbing against his collarbone instead of the stiff rough straps of his vest. 

Because he was in LA.

LA, not Afghanistan. Home, where it was supposed to be safe.

Slowly he moved his hand to his pocket and found the slick, unfamiliar weight of the new phone he’d gotten just a couple weeks back. He had to hold it in two hands and it still took three tries to dial Jack’s number. He was shaking so much he could hardly hold the phone to his ear. He curled forward over himself, bracing his elbows against his thighs. He wanted to curl back into a ball, but the back of his neck prickled unpleasantly. Instinct demanded that he maintain line of sight to the open field and wide path. He needed to see anyone who tried to approach. He needed—

“—Mac? Mac, you all right?”

He hadn’t heard Jack answer, suddenly he was just there in Mac’s ear. Mac tried to reply, but he was breathing too fast and too hard, out of breath from the two miles he’d run before the wind and a noise in the distance triggered something in him, sending his heart racing and adrenaline rushing through him.

“I—” The words choked in his throat. He gasped, clutching the phone like it was his only lifeline.

“Mac? Tell me where you are.” He heard rustling over the line, something thumping as Jack moved around. “I’ll come get you.”

“I went for a jog,” Mac managed. “But I just— I c-can’t—”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Jack’s tone turned soothing. “Slow down your breathing. Slow deep breaths, remember? I’m going to count for you, you just focus on breathing.”

“Uh huh,” Mac managed. On the line, Jack’s counting almost covered the sound of keys jangling, but doesn’t disguise the sound of a door slamming shut. But Jack kept talking, kept counting, his voice calm and steady. Just like all those times in the sandbox when Mac needed an anchor.

He heard footsteps and Jack’s car door before Jack asked again: “Tell me where you are. I’m assuming you must be close to your place, so I’m headin’ that way now, but in a couple minutes I’m gonna need more detail.”

Mac nodded, which Jack couldn’t hear, but after two more slow breaths, he raised his head and looked around. He was on the shady side of a building that was probably restrooms, with a view of the sparse grass and part of the children’s play area. He could see a dozen people toward the play area. Just average people, going about their day oblivious to him. Oblivious to all the dangers that could be lurking around them: a car bomb in the parking lot, a sniper on the ridges that overlook the park... 

He shuddered and squeezed his eyes shut again. “Griffith Park,” he says. “Swings and a restroom.” He takes a deep breath, and describes his location more precisely.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s good,” Jack told him over the sound of a blinker. “You just stay right there, keep talking to me, got it?”

“Yeah,” Mac managed.

He spotted Jack’s car before Jack saw him. Jack didn’t  bother to pull into the parking lot, just pulled a tight u-turn and stopped his car half on the edge of the road. A moment later he was loping across the grass toward Mac. Mac lowered the phone and pushed himself up straighter, suddenly aware that he was covered in drying sweat and playground bark, and crouched in the shadow of a playground restroom.

Jack crouched down in front of Mac, evaluating him with soft eyes that didn’t hold any recrimination. “I’ll take ya home,” he said, offering a hand.

“No.” Mac’s response was immediate. “No, can we go to your place? I don’t-–” he paused, taking a deep breath. He didn’t even know exactly where Jack was living. Inviting himself over was an enormous thing to ask, but he couldn’t go to his own house. “Bozer’s there. At home.” Bozer had been trying, but he hadn’t been where Mac and Jack had been, or seen what they’d seen. He wouldn’t understand how an innocent park turned into a nightmare in Mac’s fucked-up head.

Jack didn’t even hesitate. “Yeah, sure, wherever you want.” 

Jack’s proffered hand wiggled, prompting Mac to grab it. He rose on legs that felt like rubber. His entire body was still humming with the aftereffects of panic. “Thanks, Jack.”

“Any time, brother,” Jack said. His car keys jingled in his hand. “Any time.”

[appalachianapologies]

tagged by @rosieblogstuff to make a new post and drop the names of my WIPs, and because I also don't have a WIP folder (my folders are far more nuanced and I don't have the brain cells to do something that smart), this probably won't be all of them

I have a handful of relatively tame ones:

jack reads files

snips from juvie

tragic backstory™️

fuck it desi lore

mash or pass

and then just random words that somehow make sense in this brain of mine:

fight club except not at all and also people die

autism be damned my boy can COOK

this man is going to have problems!!!!

another wip don't fucking @ me

the long needed abandonment complex overhaul

I also don't know if I can tag enough people, especially people who have already been tagged before so if you're reading this, I'm tagging you in all ways but physical and you can absolutely say that I tagged you

[authorangelita]

For the drabbles: "Talk to me."

Thank you for the ask! This one took me a little time because I got stuck on what book Mac would be reading, lol. And then it got a little longer and a little longer.

~~

Mac couldn't sleep despite the late hour.  He rubbed his eyes and then turned the page in the book he was reading.  It was a dog-eared copy of Timeline and was usually an excellent distraction from his life.  Tonight, it wasn't working.  He hadn't heard from Jack in almost two weeks.  A bad feeling was building in his gut as each hour went by without so much as a text or, hell, an email.

Putting the book aside, Mac stood and started to jog in place.  Then, he did 50 push-ups, and then 50 sit-ups.  He repeated the whole routine a few times until he was dripping with sweat and out of breath, but he wasn't tired. 

A quick, hot shower also did nothing to make him sleepy.  He was considering the benefits of warm milk or hot chocolate when Jack's ringtone startled him.

"Hello?  Jack?"

"Hey, man."  Jack's voice was warm and steady.  Mac didn't realize how much he missed it until now.

"Haven't heard from you in a while."  Mac flopped on his bed.  "Everything okay?"

"Sorry about that," Jack grunted, and Mac imagined that he too was settling into a chair or maybe his own bed.  "It's all good.  We had to go radio silent, working a lead."

Mac bit his lip to keep from asking about it.  Jack had been very clear that he would not discuss Kovacs under any circumstances.  It was for Mac's, and the rest of the team's, safety.

"Talk to me, hoss.  Are you okay?"

A lump jumped into Mac's throat, and he had to work to keep his emotions in check.  "I was worried," he finally murmured.

He heard the rasp of Jack's hand rubbing his stubbled chin or cheek.  It was familiar, something he'd heard over comms as far back as the sandbox.  "I'm sorry.  I'll try to get word out to you faster next time."

Mac's heart sank at the words 'next time'.  "We, uh, we miss you around here."

"I'll be back as soon as I can."  Jack sounded defeated, much different than when he'd first spoken on the call.  Mac felt like shit for ruining his friend's mood.  "That's all I can promise."

"I know.  I didn't mean to... I'm glad you called."

Jack cleared his throat.  "I miss you too, Mac.  Every damn day."  There was a pause and a soft curse.  "Oh, hey, it's late there, isn't it?"

Mac rolled onto his side to look at the nightstand clock.  "Almost 3:30."

"You should get some sleep." 

"Tell me a story."

"Aren't you a little old for a bedtime story?" Jack teased.

Mac adopted his Jack-voice to say, "Never too old for that, hoss."

Jack laughed, a real guffaw that was probably going to get him in trouble with his other team.  "Okay, okay, let's see.  Have I told you about the time I took a header off my horse into my mama's sunflower patch?  It all started with a bet..."

Mac's eyelids grew heavy as Jack told his tale.  He vaguely heard Jack bid him good night before he dozed off.

(Note: Timeline by Michael Crichton is one of my favorite books, and I think that Mac would enjoy the science, the history, and the fiction aspects of it.)

[justmoreocs-writing]

Sometimes, I hate my job. Don’t get me wrong, I am very aware of how lucky I am that there’s international travel and it is so very rarely boring, the idea of staleness seems like an impossibility. But looking up at the cruise liner that is our latest stop off, I can’t help feeling a little queasy.

‘Lilia?’ There’s something in Mac’s tone that assures me this isn’t the first time he’s said my name. The gentle hand on my elbow a second assurance of that observation. There’s a pinch of concern between his brows, one I try to ease with an easy smile.

‘Sorry, daydreaming,’ I say, which isn’t exactly a lie.

The pinch deepens into a full on furrow, and I mentally curse.

With a sigh, I look back towards the boat. ‘I hate them,’ I admit, knowing it’s not something to be ashamed of, but also knowing I had so many opportunities to offer up that information before the plan was set in stone. Before it became the whole job and not just some idle possibility. ‘I get a little seasick – I’ve already taken medication, we’re good. But boats are just…’ I shrug, knowing full well it’s not really an answer, or explanation.

‘You’re scared of boats?’ There’s genuine surprise in his voice, enough to draw my attention back towards him.

‘More the sea, but yeah,’ I admit. ‘Maybe I was traumatised by Titanic and I don’t remember.’

The ghost of a smirk flicks at the corner of his lips before he holds out a hand for me, palm up. There’s only the briefest of hesitation before I slap my hand against his, and he intertwines our fingers.

‘Well then, good thing you’ve got me,’ he assures me seriously.

‘How so?’ I ask as we slowly walk towards the cruise.

‘I got all my swimming badges,’ he teases gently.

I groan, nudging his arm with my shoulder. But he gives my hand a brief squeeze. It’s not much, but I have to admit even with the mission as our priority, having Mac with me for it all is actually something of a comfort. Not one, however, that I will be admitting to Jack if he asks. Or any of the others.