When MacGyver emerged from the bedroom, Terry regarded him appreciatively, "Wow!"

Mac squirmed uncomfortably in the constricting clothing, fiddling with the black tie where it met the collar of his new white shirt. "I think it's Pete's idea of a joke," Mac explained, "I asked him to pick me up something suitable for the funeral." Mac shrugged, palms open to reveal the result.

A grin curved the corners of Terry's mouth, despite her sombre mood, noting that he had even managed to make his unruly hair look vaguely combed and tidy. All in all it was an even more devastatingly handsome combination than usual and it made her heart ache just to look at him.

"I've never seen you in a suit," Terry said quietly.

"You probably never will again!" Mac said jokingly. Terry's face fell and he realised what he'd said, mentally berating himself as he moved towards her, hating the way she looked, standing in the centre of the room alone, her eyes downturned forlornly, staring at some distant unknown point.

Stepping in front of her, Mac placed a hand on her shoulder, using his other hand to lift her chin to look at him. "You okay?" he asked softly, knowing it was a dumb question, but asking all the same.

Terry smiled slightly as if reading his mind, "Do I have to answer that?"

"Nope," Mac smiled back, "I already know the answer." He leaned in and kissed her forehead, sliding his arms around down her back as she sank against him weakly. "God I'm gonna miss you so much," he said miserably.

"Please, Mac," Terry pleaded, "Don't! Don't say it. Let's just pretend we can stay like this forever." She tilted her head to gaze into his brown eyes, "We'll be in each other's arms for the rest of our lives, okay?"

MacGyver smiled at the thought. "I could live with that," he admitted softly and leaned down to kiss her, wanting to commit every moment to memory, whilst trying to pretend there would be plenty more chances. His attempts were foiled by a knock on the doorframe and a hesitant cough from Pete.

"Time to go, MacGyver," he said quietly.

Mac nodded, drawing away to gaze one more time into those captivating green brown eyes, before taking Terry's hand and leading her out to the car.

As they drove towards the chapel, Mac entwined his fingers with Terry's. "Listen, if you feel yourself losing it in there," he began hesitantly, faltering when she turned to gaze at him, "You know if you need to scream or anything. Just focus it all into one place and squeeze my hand as hard as you have to."

"I might break it," Terry warned him softly.

"That's okay it's been broken plenty of times before!" Mac shrugged. Terry nodded gratefully, relaxing slightly in the knowledge that she wouldn't have to fight her claustrophobia alone for a change.

~~~~~~~~~~

They entered the chapel one minute before the service began, walking down the aisle to take the designated front pew, watched by a room full of sympathetic eyes. It was a horrible feeling that Mac had suffered too many times before and it made him want to scream at them that their sympathy didn't help at all.

Now he felt Terry's hand tighten around his own as she went through it too, an added stress to the claustrophobia that was already beginning to take hold.

He could tell from the tension in her shoulders and her downturned eyes, focused on her feet as though she could pretend the walls weren't surrounding her. Under normal circumstances he was positive she could handle it, but these were far from normal circumstances. This was a church and that held too many connotations for Terry in itself, on top of the reason for her visit and the resulting impact it was having on her once happy life.

So it came as no surprise to MacGyver when fifteen minutes into the service his hand felt like it was being crushed in a vice and Terry finally gave in, leaning over to whisper through gritted teeth, "I have to get out of here, Mac."

MacGyver nodded, lifting her hand in his and glancing towards the side of the chapel, looking for the most discreet escape route. There was a door halfway down the side wall, a heavy wooden exit with a huge metal latch. Praying it was unlocked, Mac stood, head bowed low, and ushered Terry along the pew towards the side exit, doing his best to avoid the curious sympathetic looks from the rest of the congregation.

Mac held his breath as he tried the door, wincing slightly as Terry's grip on his other hand tightened even more. He could almost sense the scream building inside her.

With a rush of warm air the door opened and they hurried through, closing it behind them and finding themselves standing in the small secluded garden that surrounded the chapel on all sides, separating it from the main cemetery.

Terry leaned against the stone wall with a gasp of relief, her breathing ragged. Eventually she lifted Mac's hand shakily and examined it for damage before gazing into his eyes apologetically, too out of control to risk speaking yet.

"It's okay, don't worry about it," Mac assured her, barely glancing at the red marks that he could feel bruising his hand. "Besides, it's not like I was using that hand for brain surgery in the morning!" he grinned feebly.

"I'm sorry," Terry finally managed a hoarse whisper, "I used to be able to control it better than this."

"Extreme circumstances," Mac said with a shrug and a feeling of deja vu that took him back to outside the police station two days and what seemed like a lifetime ago. "Listen, we can't stay out here too long, it might not be safe," he said warily, knowing that the funeral was a prime time for the three remaining thugs to attempt another attack on the murder witness. "How about we just stand inside the door at the back?"

Terry nodded reluctantly, taking several deep breaths just as a couple of Phoenix agents came around the corner, after having spotted them leaving through the side entrance.

MacGyver waved them off and took Terry's hand once more to walk to the chapel's main entrance, hoping the service would not go on too much longer or he might want to scream himself.

~~~~~~~~~~

MacGyver showed the remaining mourners to the door and then closed it quietly, leaning his back against it to gather strength to face the final hour of this life. He listened intently, hearing Pete playing with Roadie in the kitchen where he and the two Phoenix agents had retreated discreetly. Then he heard piano music coming from the living room, hauntingly sad notes drifting through the open door, and he headed towards the noise. Terry had apparently come out of her hiding place upstairs.

For a minute he watched her from the doorway, sitting on the piano stool at an angle to him. He could just see her expression, still blank and unemotional except for an occasional wince when the music called for her to stretch out her left arm a little too farther than it was ready for yet, being fresh out of its sling only that morning.

It worried Mac deeply that she had still shown no grief for her brother, no emotional outpourings of her soul since the night she had spoken of her parents' death.

MacGyver's mind went back to the story she had told of burying her feelings and pretending everything was fine until it had broken her apart. He was worried that she was doing it again here, suppressing every emotion since the reality was too much to bear. Yet here she was pouring her heart out in music, lonely, grief stricken notes that could almost be sobs of pain and rage. So he listened and he watched and he fought to suppress all the same emotions that he was willing her to display. There would be plenty of time for him later.

Later! Mac shook his head. He didn't want to think about later. He didn't want to contemplate any time beyond Terry's departure. He didn't want to face it any sooner than he had to. But at least he knew he had Roadie and he had Pete and he knew that between them he would find a way to go on. To simply get out of bed in the morning and put one foot in front of the other. And maybe even eventually to be able to remember what they had together so briefly without being overwhelmed by grief and loneliness and frustrated anger.

At least he would have someone to turn to when he needed it most. Terry had no one.

MacGyver shook himself and stood upright off the doorframe, passing a hand over his eyes before stepping into the room as Terry's playing ended. She looked up when she caught movement out of the corner of her eye, smiling at him in a way that made his heart ache even more in the face of her efforts to be brave.

"That was beautiful," Mac said quietly, "Sounded kind of familiar, what is it?"

"Barry Manilow," she said teasingly. "Well actually it's Chopin, but Barry Manilow could be why it sounds familiar!"

"Oh!" MacGyver sat beside her on the piano stool, his left hand closing over her right, lifting it from her lap to kiss her palm. Terry moved her fingers to caress his cheek, gazing at him, memorising his fine features.

MacGyver's right hand idly tinkled the ivory keys of the piano. "They're all gone."

"That's good," Terry said softly, "You know, I don't know who any of them were."

"Mainly work colleagues apparently, none of whom seemed to know anything about the project David was working on," Mac explained. "There were one or two of David's friends too. They all asked after you. I guess David must have talked about you a lot."

Terry winced slightly. "I'm sorry I left you in the lurch like that. I just couldn't face them."

"It's okay, I understand," MacGyver assured her gently. A slight nervous look crossed his face, then he took a deep breath and delved a hand into his jacket pocket. "I got you something," he said softly, pulling out a small gold paper wrapped package with a tiny bow on top, something that Pete had obtained, according to Mac's specific instructions, at the same time as getting him a suit for the funeral.

Terry looked at the gift in wonder and Mac could tell she was as unused to receiving them as he was. It figured really since neither of them had families to produce showers of Christmas and birthday presents. To MacGyver that made this gift all the more special and he took her hand and gently placed it in her palm, watching her intently.

Terry examined the tiny parcel intricately before finally undoing the bow with her petite slim fingers. Mac stifled his impatience as she carefully opened every flap of the paper before revealing the black velvet covered box inside. With wide childlike eyes, Terry lifted the box and slowly pulled open the lid, "0h MacGyver, it's beautiful," she whispered. "Can I wear it?"

Mac nodded excitedly, "Here let me." He took the box and carefully removed the chain, undoing the tiny clasp with dexterous fingers. He leaned forward and stretched his arms around Terry's neck, almost distracted from his task by the beautiful scent of her so close and the way she tried to nibble his ear as it veered near her lips. Mac giggled slightly and pulled his head out of reach as his slim fingers connected the chain together and laid the clasp flat against her neck. He lifted her hair out from beneath and sat back to admire the effect.

"Perfect," he declared, marvelling at how something so simple in its box could appear ten times as wondrous when placed around the neck of the woman he loved.

Terry fingered the fine chain, feeling every curve of the tiny gold heart that hung delicately from it. "Thank you," she whispered again, her eyes sparkling and a smile curving her lips. "It's lovely." Then her face fell slightly and MacGyver frowned, wondering what was wrong. "But I have nothing to give you," Terry said unhappily.

"You've already given me something," MacGyver took her hand in his, "That smile!" He leaned in and placed a soft sweet kiss on her lips, covering her doubtful frown and convincing her sufficiently to be rewarded with another achingly beautiful smile that MacGyver vowed to remember for the rest of his life.

That thought brought him back down to earth with a solid bump as he realised it would be a life without her. He looked at his watch, his heart clenching painfully as he saw how little time they had left. "Do you want to change before they get here?"

Terry shrugged, then she looked down at the tailored black dress and the way it barely covered her thighs where she sat on the stool. She nodded, "I guess I'd better, this isn't exactly suitable except for a woman going to the gallows." She smiled weakly, "Then again, maybe it is suitable!"

MacGyver winced at the pain ridden joke and then stood up as she made to leave the room, admiring again the way the dress accentuated every curve and showed off her legs in spectacular fashion. He had never before seen Terry wearing anything other than jeans and he desperately wanted to tell her how beautiful she looked in that dress, especially now that she was finally free of the cumbersome sling, but somehow the compliment seemed too inappropriate given the reasons for her wearing it.

Terry paused at the door and turned back, catching the lower angle at which Mac's eyes were aimed, somewhere around her butt she figured. Well nothing that she hadn't been doing to him too today. She put out her hand invitingly, "Come on, I refuse to let you out of my sight until they drag me away!" she declared, deciding that gallows humour was definitely the only way she was going to make it through this last half hour before the government agents arrived to take her away from everything she held dear.

Upstairs in her bedroom, Terry picked up an ornate shell decorated box about the size of a large shoebox and handed it to MacGyver. "That's my life!" she said simply, "And it was my mother's before mine. It's all yours now. Everything you ever wanted to know and weren't afraid to ask!" she added jokingly. "Letters, diaries, mementoes, it's all in there. And if," she shrugged, "you know, if you ever want to read any of it, feel free. It's not like I'll ever get the chance again."

There really was nothing he could say to that except to take the box in one hand and take Terry's hand in the other, pulling her into his arms and holding her like he knew he'd never be able to hold her again.

Terry hugged him back, fighting to keep all her thoughts and emotions in check and simply memorise every moment they had left together. Finally she pulled away. "I'd better change," she said, turning to the closet to pull out jeans and a sweater. She reached round with her right hand, awkwardly trying to undo the zip of her dress without twisting her still healing left shoulder.

Mac stepped across to her rescue, his fingers brushing her spine as he lowered the zip down to the small of her back. With a sensuous touch he pushed the black material from Terry's shoulders, pressing his lips to her naked skin before drawing back to let her step out of the dress. He regarded her appreciatively, committing every curve of her body, every inch of her skin to memory.

Terry bent down to retrieve the dress, then turned towards him, catching his eye as she leaned against him seductively. "What I'd give for one more hour with you," she whispered sadly, then she pressed her lips to his in a brief but meaningful kiss, before pulling on jeans, a white T-shirt and a sweater.

By the time they returned downstairs, Pete was waiting with Roadie, and the two Phoenix agents had taken up stations outside, watching out for the DXS people who were due any minute. Terry knelt down to play with Roadie one last time, struggling more and more to hide her tears, not wanting to show MacGyver such a weakness for fear it would make things even harder for both of them.

As a black unmarked sedan pulled up, Pete carried out her bag, which contained a few clothes and toiletries but nothing of any greater personal attachment as per the DXS strict guidelines.

MacGyver and Terry hugged and kissed a final time. "Promise you won't look back?" he said softly, meaning not just for now but for the rest of her life.

"You either," Terry replied, knowing exactly what he meant.

Mac nodded, biting his lip to hold back emotion that he knew would only make this harder. "Love you," he whispered.

"You too," Terry smiled weakly, "Always."

Mac nodded. "Always!" he assured her.

And then she was gone, dashing down the path, giving Pete a peck on the cheek and a "Thanks for everything."

Taking his copy, Pete handed back the paperwork he had signed to the DXS agent in charge, then he watched Terry get into the car, her eyes fixed straight ahead. He walked back to join his hurting friend and one confused dog, with tears in his own eyes to match the ones Mac was so desperately holding back.

The vehicle pulled away and Terry desperately fought the urge to look back, tears in her eyes. As they rounded the corner and her old life disappeared behind her, the DXS agent seated next to her in the rear of the car pulled out a neatly folded white handkerchief, unfolding it once and turning towards her.

"It's okay, I'm fine," Terry murmured, barely looking up from the twisting hands she was focusing her blurring vision on.

"0h, I think you'll definitely be needing that!" an all too familiar voice sneered at her from the driver's seat. The man turned in time to see the shocked frightened expression on Terry's face as she recognised the ugly leer and smelt the stench of breath of the blond thug responsible for her fading bruises, and, presumably, for the death of her brother.

Terry's terrified gasp was her last as the chloroform soaked hankerchief smothered her mouth and nose and she sank quickly into the depths of oblivion, her struggling arms doing little more than scratching the so-called DXS agent's cheek before she passed out helplessly.

~~~~~~~~~~

The black sedan disappeared around the corner and MacGyver headed in the opposite direction with a perfunctory, "I'll be back in a while," to Pete. He pulled Roadie's leash and the two of them walked off down the path to escape rapidly before Mac completely lost control.

They took the shortest route to the ocean and MacGyver slumped down on the sand, not caring what it might do to his new suit. Taking off the leash, he threw a stick for Roadie to fetch, but the dog wouldn't leave him, as if he sensed the loss and felt it too, seemingly wanting to share the comfort of the man's company. Roadie licked Mac's face as he tried to bury his head in the dog's furry muzzle to hide the hot damp tears that ran down his cheeks.

As if he had learned it from Terry herself, MacGyver found solace in the company of the ocean and Roadie. Until eventually he realised he had to go back some time if only to retrieve Terry's box before the house was shut up to await its fate, be it sale or rental, depending on the DXS realtor's decision.

Reluctantly, he and Roadie returned to the house, surprised to find an animated Director of Phoenix Operations buzzing around outside with what looked like a couple of DXS agents. Roadie barked to signal their approach and Pete turned towards the sound squinting with his failing eyesight, "Mac?"

"Yeah Pete," he replied morosely.

"Thank God! Where the heck have you been?" Pete asked worriedly.

"Walking Roadie, why?" MacGyver glanced at the black looks on the faces of the people now surrounding him. "What's wrong?" he asked, a sudden feeling of dread lurching acidly in the pit of his stomach.

"MacGyver these are the two DXS agents sent to collect Terry! They arrived half an hour ago," Pete said grimly.

"What!" Mac's yell could have been heard clear across the whole city as he began firing questions in staccato panic. "Then who were the other two? You signed the papers, how could they have been faked? They were right on time, are you sure this isn't just some kind of bureaucratic foul up?"

"No MacGyver, it isn't," Pete responded gravely, "We've checked. The paperwork was real all right, only it wasn't signed off by the department head. And these guys got a call to delay the pick up by an hour from someone purporting to be me."

"Oh, this is brilliant! A witness protection programme with more holes than a leaky sieve!" MacGyver scrubbed a hand through his hair, as scared as he was worried. Then he got a hold of himself, knowing that panic wasn't going to do anyone any good, especially not Terry.

Terry! A terrifying image hit him full on, the urge to retch almost overwhelming as he thought of what the gang had done to her brother. MacGyver pushed his shaking hands deep into his pockets and clenched his fists, swallowing hard to stop himself from throwing up in fear. For a long moment he said nothing, then, feeling control return, if not the colour to his face, he took a deep breath. "Okay let's start at the beginning. Who signed the handover papers they gave you Pete?"

"Some guy named Dickson," Pete said, his brow furrowed with concern.

"Okay, fine. So is he with the DXS or not?" Mac turned to the two bewildered agents.

"I'll find out," one of them said, heading for the phone in his car.

"Yeah, I think you'd better," Mac muttered grimly, shaking his head in astonishment.

Soon the DXS agent returned, looking even more worried than before. "Dickson is one of ours, but he's been under investigation for two months, suspected of selling secrets to the highest bidder. So far nothing's been proved."

"Well I think he just provided the proof for you," MacGyver said caustically. "Any known or suspected associations?"

The DXS agent nodded nervously, "Apparently he's been suspected of using those four hired mercenaries, that Miss Wightman identified, as the middle men in his sales."

"0h great!" Mac ran a hand through his hair as everything slotted into place. "So he was trying to sell whatever David Fleming was working on, only David destroyed all records of his work before they could get a copy. They snatched Dr Fleming, but judging by the damage they inflicted he wouldn't give it up. Now they've grabbed the only witness to the crime!"

Mac paused for a moment. "Something doesn't add up here. Why would Dickson blow his cover just to save one of the middlemen from prosecution? He's not going to gain anything personally from that."

"Unless he believes that Terry knows where her brother stashed the information," Pete suggested with a grimace.

MacGyver shook his head thoughtfully, "Dickson's staking a hell of a lot on that slim chance." He turned to the DXS agent again, "Did your people have any clues as to what Dickson's current sale consists of?"

The man shook his head, "Not really, just some kind of drug."

"Okay, enough of the cloak and dagger!" MacGyver exclaimed frustratedly, "You have got to provide us with more to go on! No matter how secret it is, you have to tell us what Dr Fleming was working on. A woman's life is at stake here!" He swallowed hard, struggling to keep control.

"I'm sorry Mr MacGyver, Mr Thornton," the DXS agent began in a troubled voice, "I have been told to inform you that the DXS will handle this. That you should lie low and await the results of our investigation."

"Like hell I will!" MacGyver exclaimed, his anger flaring. "I am not going to sit back and entrust Terry's life to any more DXS incompetency. I've already made that mistake once. I'm not going to do it again!"

"Mac, calm down, this isn't going to help," Pete put a hand on his arm placatingly. "I'll have the police and all our agents put on alert for the vehicle they used and for Dickson. But for now there's little else we can do," Pete admitted worriedly. "Why don't you go home and get some rest. I'll call you if anything breaks."

Mac stared at him pleadingly, but he knew it was useless. Pete was right. There was nothing more he could do here. Brushing Pete's hand away, MacGyver pulled on Roadie's leash and went inside the house to retrieve Terry's box from her bedroom, the memory and scent of her still lingering in the air of that room with painful clarity.

He sat on the edge of the bed for a long moment of thought, before coming to a decision. Picking up the box, Mac took Roadie's leash and headed downstairs, striding outside through the group of men without another word. He walked away, rapidly putting distance between them as he covered the couple of miles to the marina, formulating the execution of his plan along the way.

~~~~~~~~~~

When Pete Thornton finally got home later that evening, tired, dejected and fearful for the life of an innocent young woman, he found his answering machine flashing with a single message. It was MacGyver, much to the relief of Pete, who had been trying to contact him for a couple of hours to see how he was. But his friend's short message struck fear into Pete's heart.

"Hi Pete, it's me. Sorry, but I had to do something. Watch the local news and you'll figure it out. Hope you've still got that long range receiver in your study. You're gonna need it."

With that, the message ended, leaving Pete to contemplate the bleak tone of his friend's voice as he glanced at his watch and scrabbled for the TV remote in time to catch the beginning of the late news broadcast.

"There was a new twist today in the upcoming trial of Samuel Curran, the man arrested for the murder of Phoenix Foundation agent Charles Franklin and an accessory to the kidnapping of Dr David Fleming. A woman in her early thirties, believed to be the prosecution's key witness in the case was abducted this afternoon by two men posing as DXS agents. In the midst of the resulting investigation, a man has come forward as a new witness to the Phoenix agent's murder. Our on the spot news team was able to obtain this interview just a few hours ago......."

The picture switched from the local newsdesk to an outside broadcast. It had been filmed at a location that Pete Thornton recognised immediately with a growing sense of dread.

"We're outside the downtown Marina, where we're here to speak with a gentleman who has come forward as a witness to the murder of Charles Franklin and the abduction of Dr David Fleming whose battered body was discovered in the early hours of yesterday morning following an anonymous tip-off to the police."

The female news reporter dressed in a smart green business suit turned to the tall blond man beside her. "Sir, why have you only now decided to come forward?"

"Well it hardly seemed necessary to get involved, since they already had a witness, but you know my conscience was kind of eating at me!" Mac feigned an exceedingly sheepish grin.

"And why come to the media instead of the police to offer your testimony?"

"When I heard that the other witness got abducted right out from under everyone's noses, I figured I had no choice but to come forward. And I reckoned publicity would be the best form of protection I could get!"

The news reporter thanked him and the camera focused back solely onto her as she began to give more background details about the case.

Pete turned the sound down and wiped a shaky palm over his face. "MacGyver, what the heck have you done?" he murmured miserably, reaching for the phone.

Two calls later, Pete had established that there was still no answer at Mac's houseboat and he'd summoned back his driver to take him over to check it out for himself. Waiting for the car to arrive, Pete changed into a dark sweater and pants and rifled through his study for the electronic receiver they had used on previous occasions to tail someone. Pete could only hope MacGyver's transmitter wasn't already out of range.

~~~~~~~~~~

Mac's houseboat didn't exactly alleviate Pete's worst fears, displaying signs of a struggle, with upturned chairs, broken china, and the door left open. Without a doubt, MacGyver had offered himself up as bait, and that bait had been quickly taken.

Pete hurried back to the car and connected up the electronic tracker to the car's a/c output, holding his breath as he waited for a signal. But down by the waterfront he could receive nothing. They had to find a higher point. Pete gave his driver instructions and continued praying for the welfare of his friend.

~~~~~~~~~~