A/N: Okay, time for some goofy MacGyver one-shots! Some are seeing what sort of strange places I can put MacGyver while he's asleep, and others are just character chaos that MacGyver misses because he's asleep. :D
"Mac? Mac, come on, don't ignore me."
Jack scurried after his best friend as MacGyver strode along the dock. Well, maybe stumbled was a better word for it, considering he almost walked right off the pier. But when Jack tried to help him, MacGyver shot him a death glare that had Jack raising his hands in surrender.
"You don't want help? Okay, you do you."
"What I want," MacGyver grumbled as he walked on, "Is for you to stop making me your accomplice!"
"Aw, Mac, 'accomplice' is such an ugly word. Makes us sound like criminals or something."
"Oh, we aren't?" MacGyver said, sarcasm filling every word. "You forgot to explain that to the police."
MacGyver unlocked his house with short, sharp motions and thrust the door open. Jack slid in behind him before MacGyver could lock him out. Again.
"I'm my defense," Jack ducked when MacGyver threw his jacket in his general direction, "I didn't know those diamond salesmen had gotten their diamonds illegally."
"Because everyone transports their diamonds hidden in sacks of flour!" MacGyver dropped into a chair at his kitchen table and put his face in his hands. "I should've known better when you said it was just flour you were transporting. Really, when was the last time you flew something so normal?"
Jack shifted awkwardly. MacGyver usually took his… wayward jobs badly, but he was taking longer than normal to bounce back to himself. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that they'd been on the run from the Mexican police for the last twenty-four hours. Or that Jack had slept while MacGyver stayed up all night to fix the plane so they could escape.
Hopefully not a combination of both. Jack might have to leave the country for a bit if it was both.
MacGyver lifted his head. "What are you still doing here?"
"Making it up to you," Jack said impulsively. He spun and went to MacGyver's kitchen. "I'll make you breakfast."
"Jack," MacGyver said tiredly, "It's almost noon."
"Breakfast for lunch, it's called brunch, get with the times," Jack joked.
MacGyver groaned. "You can't even cook."
"Nonsense." Jack pulled out a carton of eggs from the fridge with a flourish. "I can fry an egg."
MacGyver stared at Jack, then put his arms on the table and laid his head on them. Taking it as a "yes" to the brunch, Jack cracked an egg against a bowl. A little too enthusiastically, as it splattered out of the bowl and onto the counter. MacGyver tilted his head to the side to eye Jack.
"I can scramble eggs, too," Jack said, covertly scraping the egg from the counter and into the bowl.
MacGyver huffed and didn't say anything. Jack ducked his head to hide his grin. That was a sound of amusement, not annoyance. A step in the right direction!
Jack could not, in fact, make scrambled eggs, he quickly discovered. But if he plated it right, the burnt parts were covered by the gooey parts, which were in turn covered by a small bit of egg that actually looked like scrambled eggs.
Jack studied the heap of eggs in the middle of the plate, then shrugged. Eggs were eggs, and MacGyver wasn't too picky about food. Jack had seen him eat bugs just that morning.
"Viola!" Jack said as he put the plate in front of MacGyver. "It's my specialty, Mac, just for you."
MacGyver didn't respond. He didn't even lift his head.
Jack crossed his arms. "Oh, you're back to ignoring me now? Real mature of you. Look, I made you a peace offering."
Still nothing. Jack wished he could see MacGyver's face; there was only so much he could tell about MacGyver's mood from the top of his head.
"I know I messed up and you're angry," Jack admitted, sitting across from MacGyver. "But I'm sorry. There, I said it! Sorry, Mac. Don't just waste good food over this, will you?"
Jack waited expectantly, but MacGyver's head remained down. Weird.
"Mac, you look dead." Jack's eyes widened. "You didn't get shot or something, did you?"
Jack leaned forward, but MacGyver was still breathing. He looked fine, from what Jack could see, just… oh.
Jack realized he could see a bit of MacGyver's face in the crook of his elbow. His eyes were closed and, as far as Jack could tell, he was more relaxed than he'd been since Jack's plane had gone down. More than relaxed, MacGyver was asleep.
"Guess I can't blame you there." Jack sat back. "How are you doing that, Mac? You're going to fall out of your chair. Could've at least gotten to bed."
When MacGyver remained sleeping, Jack gave up. Waking his friend up to eat would just be subjecting himself to more scolding or -worse- sarcasm. Might as well let MacGyver sleep so he'd be in a better mood later.
Shrugging, Jack pulled the plate over to himself. "No sense letting my good cooking go to waste. Your loss, Mac."
Jack scooped a mouthful of eggs into his mouth. Less than two seconds later, he was scrambling to the nearest trash can. Gagging and spitting on the charcoal-tasting, slimy monstrosity he'd put in his mouth, Jack was vaguely grateful he hadn't accidentally poisoned MacGyver on top of everything else.