The credit for this title of course goes to our own MacGyver here on the forums! Thanks! It really inspired me!

Summary: Jack Dalton winds up with more than a hangover to deal with after a night of partying, and MacGyver has to save him without getting himself in trouble in the process.

Happy Hour with Jack Dalton Part One
Rated: PG

“Hey, thanks for the lift,” Jack Dalton slurred, swaying and leaning heavily on MacGyver for support, breathing his sour, alcohol-laced breath on his friend.

Wrinkling his nose in disgust from the pungent odor and struggling to keep his inebriated friend upright, MacGyver dragged him from his jeep towards his house boat.

“Yeah, like I had a choice of being your designated driver tonight,” he said, anger and disapproval in his voice. “What else was I supposed to do? You call me at home late at night when I was trying to get some sleep, I can barely understand you, and then I hear the bartender shouting at you, threatening to kick you out for having one too many!” Jack began slipping to the ground, and MacGyver pulled him back up, grunting with the effort it took, his body slack and heavy. “Why can’t you lay off the beer for once, huh? Why do you have to go out on these benders?”

“Nah, not…a bender,” Jack said, his bleary, bloodshot eyes half-closed, a lazy grin on his face. “Was…celebratin’…”

“Oh, yeah? Celebrating what?” MacGyver asked, gasping for breath slightly from carrying him, bearing his weight.

“Got…new contract, for Dalton Air…lotsa money…”

“I’m sure,” MacGyver said, frowning and sounding skeptical.

Jack looked at MacGyver with his glazed, dull, unfocused eyes. “There’s some for you too, buddy,” he said, giggling.

“I don’t need it. Look Jack, we’re at my house boat. You’re going to have to help me, here,” MacGyver said, propping him up against the side of it while he pulled out his keys. “Stay put.”

Jack gave a mock salute. “Anything you say…” he slumped and began collapsing to the ground. MacGyver tried to catch him, but he was too late. Jack Dalton was crumpled on the ground, laughing.

“Great,” MacGyver said, rolling his eyes. He reached for Jack’s hand. “All right, come on, let’s get back up.”

He pulled Jack back up to his feet just in time to see him vomit over the side of the docks into the water. He stepped quickly out of the way, hoping it would miss his shoes as the foul contents of his friend’s stomach defiled the water and splashed back slightly.

“That’s just wonderful, Jack,” he said when he was finished. “How can you call this a good time?”

“Whoops,” Jack said, laughing again. “S…sorry, pal.”

“Never mind. Let’s get you inside my place.”

MacGyver opened the door and helped Jack inside. Jack looked up at him, smiling gleefully like a mischievous, naughty four-year-old. He reached out and grabbed MacGyver’s jacket, gripping it tightly as if clinging to it as his only support, preventing him from falling again. His smile faded, and for a moment he looked almost sober again, his eyes filled with conviction.

“You’re a…a good friend,” he said. “Ya know tha?”

“Yeah, well, let’s not make this a habit,” MacGyver said, extricating his jacket from Jack’s fingers and clutching him closer to him. He closed the door behind them and led Jack to his sofa.

“Hey Mac…where we goin’?” Jack asked, looking around, confused and stumbling.

“You’re going to my sofa to sleep this off,” MacGyver said, helping him lie down. “Trust me; you’re going to need the rest.”

“Where will you be?”

“Upstairs.”

“Oh.”

“Goodnight, Jack.”

When he didn’t hear a response except for a loud, obnoxious snore, he knew that, mercifully, Jack had finally passed out. Relieved that he no longer had to listen to his friend’s drunken ravings, his tolerance and patience wearing thin, feeling exhausted, MacGyver started to head for his spiral staircase. Pausing to look at Jack’s limp form draped across the sofa, he sighed.

“Why do I put up with this?” He asked out loud.

He realized he already knew the answer—to keep Jack from winding up in the street somewhere. If he had given in to his strong urge to dump Jack in the middle of nowhere, it might have taught his wayward friend a lesson about the dangers and unpredictability of intoxication, but he might have also ended up in more serious trouble, something he would regret if it were to happen. He knew he cared too much about Jack to allow anything to happen to him. As annoying as he was, he was still a friend. Smiling when he heard Jack release an incoherent mumble in his sleep, MacGyver shook his head and continued upstairs to his bedroom.

***

“Are you sure this is where he lives?” A man asked, peering at the darkened house boat through binoculars.

The other man in the car lit a cigarette, and it glowed volcanically, producing the only source of light in the otherwise moonless night. “Of course I’m sure,” he said. “I’ve been staking this place out for weeks.”

“All right, so what’s the plan?”

The lead man grinned cryptically, and if his grin could be seen along with the small, floating flame of his cigarette, he would have looked like the Cheshire cat.

“I know MacGyver better than anyone,” he said. “I’ve studied him for years since he ruined me. I know all his habits, his routines. He’s a heavy sleeper, so grabbing him shouldn’t be difficult. He usually sleeps on his sofa, not the bed, so look for him there. When you have him, put him in the trunk. We’ll drive him somewhere nice and quiet to have a little chat. Understand?”

The other man nodded. He looked back at another man in the car who remained silent the whole time. He gestured for him to follow him, and both men got out of the car, walking towards MacGyver’s house boat, their silhouettes hardly distinguishable in the blackness. Once they reached it, they quietly went to work picking the lock to the front door. When it clicked, they looked at each other and crept inside, drawing their guns in case MacGyver should happen to be awake. The house boat was still and silent, rocking gently with the motion of the water beneath it. They heard someone moan and stir, and they headed cautiously towards the sound, careful to avoid running into objects they could barely see in the darkness, feeling for them with their gloved hands like blind men.

“What about a flashlight? This is crazy! It’s too dark in here.”

“We can’t—it would attract too much attention. We’re just supposed to grab and go, remember?”

“But I can’t see a damn thing!”

“Here he is.”

They looked down at Jack’s sleeping form on the sofa, unable to see if any of his features would match the description their leader had given them.

“Are you sure this is MacGyver?”

“Who else would it be? He sleeps on the sofa, remember? He lives alone, too.”

“All right, let’s take him, then.”

The men lifted Jack off the sofa and slowly carried him out of the house boat and back to the waiting car. Their leader gave them a satisfied smile even though they couldn’t see each other too clearly. He was pleased. He listened as the body made a heavy thud, toppling into the trunk. When the lid slammed and rocked the car again, he leaned back in his seat and smiled. That sound always made him happy. It meant he was accomplishing something, not allowing anyone to stand in his way. Now, he had even more of a reason to be delighted. The biggest obstacle to his enterprise, the man who had succeeded in destroying his reputation, was now his. MacGyver was his, and he could do with him what he pleased, holding him accountable for his crimes.

“We’ve got him,” the more talkative man said as he and his quiet partner returned to the car, getting inside.

“I know. Nice work, gentleman.” He lit another cigarette and grinned. “Now, it’s time to have some revenge.”

To be continued…

I LOVE Jack stories... in trouble, as usual.

More?

Oh yes...by week's end.

so good but does macgyver drink in this?