Part four--the suspense thickens!
After Deborah Part Four
Rated: PG
MacGyver felt dazed and weak. His head pounded and his nose was congested. Every time he sneezed, his whole body ached and felt sore. His body temperature seemed to shift dramatically, alternating from freezing and shivering to heat and sweating. The last time he felt this way was only recently. He knew the symptoms all too well. He couldn’t believe he was getting another cold. As he lay on his sofa, wrapped in a blanket and miserable, he heard a knock at his door.
“Go away,” he said drowsily, his voice deepened by the cold.
“Now MacGyver, is that any way to greet a friend?” Anna asked, entering the house boat.
MacGyver turned to see her. She was still limping, but she didn’t have her crutch with her. She was carrying a bag of groceries, attempting to balance it carefully as she walked. Once she found the counter she set it down and looked at him, smiling.
“What are you doing here?” He asked. He wasn’t angry about her sudden appearance, just curious.
“Nikki told me you weren’t feeling well, so I decided to stop by and see how you were doing. Look, I bought you a whole store full of medicines and some soup.”
“Nikki, huh?” MacGyver asked. “It sounds like you two are getting pretty close.”
“We are. She’s a wonderful friend, MacGyver. She’s also an expert on you, so that helps.” She winked.
“Oh, great, so now she’s gossiping about me with you. That must be fun for her…” he broke off and sneezed loudly into a nearby tissue. The sneeze made his chest ache, and he groaned.
“Bless you,” Anna said.
“Thanks. So, what did Nikki say, exactly? I’d like to know.”
“She said to be nice to you, watch over you, that kind of thing. Oh, and that you’re not as grumpy as you seem.”
“Gee, that’s great,” MacGyver said sarcastically.
“She…also told me a little more about what you went through with that woman who hurt you. I’m so sorry. It sounds like you went through a terrible ordeal. It’s no wonder you have a difficult time trusting me. She told me to be patient with you and give you time.”
“Well, wasn’t that sweet of her,” MacGyver grumbled. “I wish for once she could mind her own damn business and let me suffer in peace…” he sneezed again.
“I’m sorry. Would you like me to go? I know I came unannounced.”
MacGyver looked at her with his moist, feverish eyes. “That’s all right,” he said. “I don’t expect you to fully understand all the circumstances of what happened. You’re just trying to help. I’m sorry I sounded so harsh.”
“Well MacGyver, it hasn’t been that long ago since it happened,” Anna said. “Of course you’re going to snap at people for awhile. You were hurt, and you’re upset about it. It’s perfectly normal.”
“I shouldn’t have snapped at you, though,” he said.
Anna smiled. “You’re forgiven,” she said. “I understand.”
She watched him shudder and pull the blanket closer around him. He looked pale and exhausted, his hair standing up boyishly and his nose bright red from rubbing it on countless volumes of tissues. She tried to hide her smile at his adorable appearance. Instead, she thought with amazement at how well the drug her employer had given her was working. It truly did simulate all the symptoms of a cold, but beyond that, it was harmless. The effects of the drug didn’t occur until a few days after the tea he’d had with her, so there was no way he would suspect any poisoning by linking his cold to the tea. It was a brilliant strategy. Of course, her employer hadn’t thought of it all on his own. She was the one who convinced him to use it, because she told him that MacGyver would become more trusting of her if she took care of him while in his weakened, sick state. If she could prove to him that she wasn’t a monster by taking care of his cold, then his trust level in her would dramatically rise, and she could move to the next step—one step closer to placing MacGyver in the clutches of her employer, just as he wanted.
“Is there anything you need?” She asked him sweetly.
“I’ve tried everything,” MacGyver said, looking at her with cloudy eyes and smiling tiredly. “I think I need to just rest. I am so sore. My body feels like it’s been pummeled with rocks.”
“You’re aching, aren’t you?”
“Yes, badly.”
Anna smiled to herself. The way he complained of his ailment reminded her of a little boy. “I can help you with that, you know,” she said. “How about a massage?”
MacGyver raised his eyebrows in surprise. “What?” He asked.
“Oh, it wouldn’t be like that at all. It would be strictly professional, I assure you. I used to be a masseuse.”
MacGyver didn’t seem sure. He hated the position he was in, wanting badly to touch her or to be touched by her, wanting any kind of female attention at all. He still loved women and wanted women around him, but Deborah had inhibited him, made him scared of any potential new relationships. Once again, for him it was all a matter of trust. Could he trust a woman again, or did they all suddenly have their own agendas when it came to him?
Anna noticed that he was thinking, a serious frown on his face. She knew what he was thinking, too. “Come on, MacGyver,” she said. “You have to let a woman back in your life at some point.”
His serious expression slowly relaxed and transformed into a smile. “You’re right,” he said. “A massage would feel pretty good right now…” he broke into a fit of violent coughing.
“Are you all right?”
MacGyver stopped coughing. “I think so,” he said.
“Okay, here’s what I want you to do. I want you to lie down on the floor with your back facing me. It is mostly your back that’s sore, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, go ahead and get comfortable.”
MacGyver did as she said, lying face-down on his rug.
“Are you ready?” Anna asked. “I’m going to start now, just slowly and gently. Let me know if I put too much pressure on anything.”
“Okay,” MacGyver said, his voice slightly muffled by the rug and his cold.
Anna began to rub his back, kneading it and caressing it. She felt his body shudder beneath her with another one of his coughs, but it subsided and she continued her work, smiling to herself and humming softly. MacGyver’s back felt like coils of thick, heavy knots, and occasionally he tensed with her touch, not allowing himself to fully relax or enjoy it.
“I’m not going to hurt you like that other woman did,” she whispered to him. “You’re going to have to believe me, MacGyver. Just relax.”
MacGyver tried to listen to her and let his body go limp, but even in his fevered, hazy state he told himself that he was in a vulnerable position where she could more easily attack him. She could strangle him or stab him in the back, something Deborah had tried to do but only managed to do symbolically. He had to brace himself for anything and be prepared to defend himself.
Anna knew that was what he was doing as she continued to work on his hardened back, feeling his warm, fevered body beneath his shirt. “I’m not a threat, MacGyver,” she said. “I know that you sometimes have faced danger, and that’s why your body is tensed. You’re like a combat soldier expecting an ambush. You must calm down, or the benefits of the massage won’t work.”
MacGyver closed his eyes, feeling them burn with fever beneath his eyelids. He had been ambushed before, and he knew that it was realistic to expect another ambush again. In his line of work, they were becoming part of the routine. As he felt his eyes burn, he remembered the painful swelling and burning of his eyes after the explosion. He began to relive the helplessness of being blind, unable to anticipate Deborah’s next move until it was almost too late. He could hear the switchblade snap open, and he gasped, forcing his eyes open.
“It’s all right,” Anna said, feeling his body tense again. “Come on, MacGyver, it’s all right.”
MacGyver took in his surroundings, returning to the present, relieved to be able to see. He looked back as well as he could at Anna’s beautiful, pleasant features. She smiled at him and continued kneading his stiff back. He turned back to the rug.
“You know, it used to be that it was only men who were slime balls,” he said, mostly to himself, reflecting out loud. “I mean, you kind of expect some guys to be scum. But women…” he sighed, the sigh turning into a cough. “Women, well…I always thought better of women. Maybe I’m just old-fashioned. That’s why Deborah—the woman who hurt me—had such an easy advantage over me. I thought the best of her when I should have thought the worst.”
“I don’t think it’s wrong to expect the best out of people, men or women,” Anna said. “You just have to have your faith restored, MacGyver.”
He sighed and coughed again, trembling beneath her. “Yeah, well I used to think that way,” he said. “Now, I’m not so sure.”
Anna rubbed on his back some more. Her movements had accidentally pushed up the back of his shirt, revealing part of a long, thick old scar that looked like an old stab wound. How fitting, Anna thought, looking at it. Someone had actually stabbed him in the back before. She also saw other scars, some of them interlaced and intricate, thin and long. Whip marks. She eased her massage slowly, staring at the marks. Part of her didn’t want to continue this charade with MacGyver, even though she was well-trained in her field and taught not to accept any feelings of weakness toward her victims. She wanted to just touch him, freely, not just as a tactic to loosen him up and earn his trust in her façade.
It seemed MacGyver wished for the same thing as his body did slowly begin to accept her touch, relaxing. He had to admit to himself that it felt good to be touched by a woman again. It had been so long. Deborah had touched him, but he tried not to let that count. She didn’t love him, after all. He was just a job to her. Her touch had cheapened the intimate experience, turning it into a cruel farce. Instead, he tried to remember previous, real romantic experiences as he felt Anna’s soothing massage. Of course, almost all his relationships had ended badly, but at least they were genuine, and he could remember them as some of the best times of his life. He tried to keep focusing on them as Anna continued. It wasn’t that he wanted to love her, at least not yet. But he did want her touch. He began to feel sleepy, finding it difficult to stay awake.
Suddenly, gunshots shattered MacGyver’s rear French doors, several bullets barely missing him where he lay. Anna looked up.
“Oh God,” she said, “not now!”
MacGyver sprang up. “What’s going on?” He asked, demanding an answer from her. Another bullet whizzed by, barely missing him. He ducked behind his sofa, grabbing Anna and taking her with him, yanking on her arm. “Why is somebody shooting at us, Anna?” He asked, growing angrier.
“We have to get to your jeep! I…I can’t explain now. Please, just come on!” Anna shouted, motioning for him to follow her.
“No! Not until you tell me what the hell is happening!” MacGyver shouted.
“Your life is in danger, MacGyver! Just come on! I’ll explain everything once we’re safely in the jeep. Please!”
A few tears fell down her cheeks as he glared at her. He didn’t know if they were crocodile tears or not, but as a bullet lodged into his sofa very close to him, sending stuffing flying everywhere, he realized that he didn’t have much choice but to follow her and trust her once again.
To be continued…
"If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer."
--Henry David Thoreau
brains+brawn+beauty+personality=MacGyver
Your eloquence amazes me! I am eagerly awaiting the next installment. Please hurry or I might die of the stress of waiting. 
Don't worry though, it's coming soon! 
