Pete was as good as his word. Two hours later Mac carried Terry into what had been David's home to be greeted by an overexcited Roadie. The dog had been collected by one of the Phoenix agents from the neighbour that MacGyver had been forced to leave him with several days earlier before he'd offered himself up as bait to the men holding Terry.

Mac laid Terry gently on the sofa ordering her to "Stay and don't move". When Roadie also followed his order and sat down abruptly, straight onto Mac's foot, Terry's laughter told him that he'd definitely done the right thing in getting her out of the hospital.

Having freed his foot, MacGyver stepped over to the wide sliding doors and drew the curtains back to reveal the bright sunlit back garden, glad that Pete had arranged for the broken glass door to be fixed whilst they were holed up in the safehouse the previous week.

He turned back to the patient, swirled his arm in the air and bowed regally, "Is there anything I can get m'lady?"

Terry smiled weakly, "Actually I'd love some hot tea and a blanket. I just don't seem to be able to get warm lately." Mac nodded and disappeared into the kitchen to put the kettle on. He returned within seconds, lifting a blanket off the back of a chair.

"Listen, I think what you need is to sit outside. Fresh air and sunshine will do you the world of good. And tomorrow, if you're feeling better, I'll take you down to the ocean," he offered, dangling it like a carrot for her temptation.

Terry nodded eagerly and MacGyver unlocked the sliding doors and pulled them open wide. Roadie ran outside immediately, but quickly returned to see what was keeping his mistress.

"Do you want to try this by yourself?" Mac asked, offering a hand to steady her as she took to her feet for the first time in days. Terry swung her legs off the sofa. A pair of thick socks covered her feet, tucked over her sweatpants and, along with a warm sweater, baggily covered her too thin torso. She stood slowly and gingerly, her eyes fixed on the doors that would provide her escape at last. Then she carefully slid one foot in front of the other as though learning to walk for the first time.

"Just like riding a bicycle!" She relaxed slightly, "Always a bit wobbly at first." She stopped when her head felt dizzy, then it cleared and she dropped Mac's hand to go the rest of the way on her own, carefully lowering herself onto one of the wooden lounger chairs out near the pool. She shielded her eyes from the sun, the bright light blinding her after being cooped up in the hospital for so long.

MacGyver watched from the door protectively, beginning to relax himself now that he felt she really was on the road to recovery at last. He waited for her to get settled, then turned and went inside, fetching tea and the blanket in case she got chilly.

By late afternoon, he'd plied her with hot soup and watched her sleeping deeply with no sign of the claustrophobia induced nightmares that had been occurring more and more frequently in the hospital, wearing her down mentally as well as physically.

Now, surrounded by open space and homely comforts, she was resting easier, just as Mac had hoped. That thought brought tears to Mac's eyes and he knew he had been worn down and stressed out to the point of exhaustion himself. Terry wasn't the only one in desperate need of a good night's sleep.

Glancing at his watch, MacGyver made a decision. With the sun slowly waning, he scooped Terry's sleeping form into his arms and carried her inside, up the stairs to her bedroom. He left her briefly to return downstairs and lock the sliding doors, double checking that the rest of the house was secure, and berating himself for his paranoia, before collecting Roadie and going back up to Terry's bedroom.

Mac left the curtains open to the evening sun and stood watching Terry sleep for a moment, memories and emotions of their previous encounters in that room flooding his senses. Finally he shook himself and stooped down to pull off his sneakers and socks, followed by his jeans and sweatshirt, pulling the tight collar over his head, leaving his hair spiked and tousled even more than usual.

Standing in only his mid length briefs, MacGyver moved to the bed and lifted Terry to a sitting position. "Bed!" he whispered as she moaned softly at the movement. Terry's lips curved into a seductive smile. "Sleep!" Mac said to clear up any confusion.

"Oh!" Terry pouted, her eyes still tightly closed, but she moved to try to pull her socks off and get undressed.

"It's okay. I'll do it," Mac grinned, helping her take off her socks and sweatpants, before pulling her sweater over her head, leaving her T-shirt on to cover her nudity. Then he pulled back the covers and settled her down beneath them, tucking them warmly around her and adding an extra blanket for good measure before moving around to the other side and sliding in himself.

Terry nuzzled up to his warm body, her legs and arms entwining with his, stealing his warmth and his comfort as she slipped back into a deep sleep.

MacGyver lay awake for a few minutes, listening to her steady breathing, his hands stroking her arm wrapped across his naked chest. Then he closed his eyes and let himself drift off to sleep in a bed for the first time in days.

~~~~~~~~~~

MacGyver awoke with a gasp, confusion washing over him like the waves that had been drowning him in his nightmare. Then he remembered where he was and he shifted slightly, rolling over to listen for Terry's shallow breathing. But her side of the bed was empty, she was gone.

Mac sat bolt upright, blinking in the murky darkness as he surveyed the room, but she was nowhere to be seen. Quickly he got out of bed and pulled on his jeans, heading onto the landing. He paused, listening for any sound, about to give up and start searching each room when he heard muffled piano notes, soft and delicate drifting up towards him.

When padded paws echoed MacGyver's bare feet down the wooden varnished staircase, he realised Roadie was following him. At the bottom he told the dog to stay, then Mac turned towards the living room where the door was firmly closed.

Quietly, he turned the handle and pushed. The room was dark and shadowy, the only illumination coming through the sliding doors from the city lights outside.

Silhouetted in her seat on the piano stool was Terry, bent over the baby grand, her shoulders slumped in defeat. Her fingers again tried to tease a soft haunting tune from the ebony and ivory keys, completely unaware that she was now being watched as she faltered, getting the notes mixed up and jamming her hand down with a tuneless crunch.

She sighed heavily, laying her arms across the top of the piano and resting her forehead on them as she stared down at the keys as if she could will them to play by thought alone. After a few moments, she lifted one hand back to the keys again and played a few notes, softly and too slowly to identify any tune.

MacGyver couldn't simply stand by and watch her pain any longer. "I don't recognise that," he said quietly, breaking the silence and hoping not to scare her. Terry looked up, her eyes like an empty glass. She didn't speak and eventually Mac filled the void, "What was that you were playing?"

Moving slowly, he stepped closer, sitting down beside her on the piano stool when she finally replied, so softly he could barely hear her.

"It was something my mother taught me. David's favourite," her throat closed over the words, constricting convulsively, and Mac saw tears filling her eyes, her lips moving futilely before she finally managed to speak again. "He's gone, isn't he?"

MacGyver nodded slowly, his eyes filled with compassion. "But not from your heart," he whispered, taking Terry in his arms as she began to cry. The grief that had been buried, festering inside her for days, now found its outlet, overwhelming her with wracking, shuddering sobs so filled with pain and loss that tears fell from Mac's own eyes as he shared her sorrow and felt immense relief that she had broken down at last. Hopefully now the true healing could start for her.

It was a long time before Terry loosened her hold around him sufficiently for Mac to move her across to the more comfortable couch, switching on the tablelamp and pulling a blanket around her shoulders when he noticed that she only had sweat pants and a T-shirt on.

Eventually Terry pulled away from his soggy chest. "You're all wet," she sniffled.

Mac shrugged, studying her closely. "How about I make you some hot tea?" he offered gently. Terry considered for a moment and then nodded slightly, her watery gaze following him as he stood up from the couch.

Before he could step away MacGyver felt her hand grab his wrist with surprising strength and he heard her sharp intake of breath. "Terry, what is it?" he turned back worriedly. "You all right?"

Terry was staring at the multicoloured bruises across his chest and ribcage, revealed in all their glory by the lamplight beside him. It was the first time she had seen them, and new tears glistened in her eyes at their shocking impact.

"Oh, MacGyver!" she cried out distraughtly, "What did they do to you!"

"Hey.......hey," Mac bent down in front of her, hating to see her in further distress and wishing he'd had the sense to put a sweatshirt on over his jeans. "Hey.......Terry, it's okay. It's nothing. Honest."

He stroked her cheek with his hand, bobbing his head to meet her tearful gaze with a shining smile. "You know, you didn't look so great either, after your run in with those guys!" Mac pretended to look hurt as he added, "Actually, I think I did pretty well considering. At least, I didn't get a wrenched shoulder!"

That last comment worked better and Terry met his gaze, her doubtful eyes vaguely reassured by his smiling words. Then her face fell again as she recalled the circumstances under which she had obtained that particular injury.

"I miss him so much," she admitted forlornly, more tears starting to flow down her cheeks in what seemed like a neverending flood of grief.

"I know, sweetheart," MacGyver said tenderly, all thoughts of tea forgotten. He sat back down on the sofa and enfolded Terry in his arms once more. "It will get easier," he said when her sobs eventually began to subside again. "You know that as well as I do."

Terry's nod was only detectable by her silky hair tickling his chest. "It's just so hard to believe they're gone, Mac. All my family are gone! I'm all alone," she exclaimed, utterly miserable.

"No you're not, Terry. You'll never be alone. I'm here. And Roadie's here," MacGyver assured her softly. "And your family will always be with you, no matter where you are."

She peered up at him, the desolate look on her face tugging at his heartstrings. "How did you cope?" she asked huskily.

"Friends.......and work," he said simply.

Terry thought about that for a moment. "Guess, I'd better get a job then!" she finally responded, attempting to smile. The weak effect on her tearstreaked face, pale and puffy in the lamplight, was still the most wondrous sight Mac had seen in a while.

He smiled back at her. "Just don't forget you wanted your next contract to be in LA because you miss the ocean!"

"Actually, I think I said it had to be anywhere along the Pacific coast," Terry recalled. "But I guess LA would save me and Roadie a lot of commuting! Assuming I've got something to come home for......."

Mac met her questioning gaze with a firm nod. "Always," he assured her.

Terry relaxed into his arms, silent in her own thoughts as she struggled to come to terms with her loss and the changes it would make to her future.

David's house, almost bought and paid for by now, would become her own, but could she stay there with all the memories that surrounded her constantly? Whenever she was there, terrifying memories from the previous week kept pushing to the fore with far greater intensity than any happy images of her brother. But if she sold the house and moved away wasn't there a danger that she would be wiping out the good memories along with the bad?

"I'm afraid that I'll forget him," Terry eventually admitted quietly. "And that if I forget him he'll cease to have ever existed."

"The scientists at the Phoenix Foundation have been doing tests on David's formulas. They think his discovery could be useful in several different applications. His work could help a lot of innocent people in this world. That will never be forgotten," Mac pointed out thoughtfully.

"Besides, what makes you think you'll forget about him?" He threw her a puzzled look as she pulled away from his embrace and sat back into the corner of the sofa, crossing her legs in front of her like a barrier. "David will always be a part of you, Terry, whether you realise it or not," he added softly.

Terry turned away to stare at some distant image that only she could see. "But what if by being happy I'll forget about him," she said in a tiny voice.

"I don't understand what you mean," Mac gently urged her to put her feelings more fully into words.

"What I mean is.......I.......I don't know what I mean!" Terry gestured frustratedly, struggling to get her clamouring thoughts straight in her head.

MacGyver waited patiently until she eventually spoke again, "I think what I mean is.......how do I know that falling in love with you isn't just my way of coping with the loss of my brother?"

Mac suppressed a sigh, fighting to keep his voice even, "By being honest with yourself, Terry!" He let out a breath slowly before continuing more calmly, "You knew what was happening between us long before you had any inkling something was wrong with David."

"Terry, don't punish yourself for being happy. Or for loving someone other than your brother." Mac reached for her hand, his voice full of emotion, "You're not betraying David by loving someone else, Terry. Lord knows, you've got enough love inside you to share among a million people!"

"I don't want to share it among a million people, Mac," she said softly, "I want to share it with you." Terry swallowed hard, "But why do I feel so guilty about that?"

Mac studied her, choosing his words carefully, "I'm not a substitute for David, Terry. I never will be. Deep down you know that." He rubbed a palm over his face. "I don't think what you're feeling is guilt, I think it's confusion. You're experiencing two different but very strong emotions at the same time and it's not a good mixture."

He paused, waiting until Terry met his gaze with the question in her eyes, before he continued, "On the one hand you need to grieve for your brother. But on the other hand you have all this love inside that you need to express and you've finally found the person you want to share it with."

"Terry," Mac entwined his fingers with hers, his voice soft but firm, "David would be happy for you. He would want you to live your life the way he taught you. To grab every chance. Welcome it with open arms. Your brother would want you to do whatever makes you happy."

He watched her closely, seeing her weighing up his words before she could accept them. When she looked away MacGyver found himself holding his breath, suddenly unsure which way she would go. From her expression it was almost as if Terry was seeking her brother's opinion too. Then she slowly nodded, a slight smile curving her lips as she turned back to face him.

"You're right, Mac, I know you are. It's just going to take some time to get used to such a weird conflict of emotion, that's all," she shrugged ingenuously.

"Nobody said it was going to be easy," Mac responded. "Nothing ever is. It wouldn't be worth doing if it was easy, now would it?"

Terry smiled at that thought, "I guess not."

She contemplated him for another long moment, then shifted towards him, wrapping her arms around him in an appreciative hug. "Thanks, MacGyver."

"You're welcome," he replied, his hands encircling her warmly. Beneath his fingertips he could feel the outline of Terry's ribcage through the thin T-shirt where she had lost far too much weight during the entire ordeal. "You're going to get cold," he murmured tenderly.

"Actually, I'm fine," she said in surprise, sitting up to look him in the eye. "I don't feel cold at all, for the first time in days......." Terry faltered, remembering the anguish she had felt several days before, new salty tears pricking her eyelids. "I thought I'd lost you," she whispered.

"I thought you'd been killed," MacGyver admitted, swallowing convulsively at the harrowing memory.

Terry gazed at him for a long time, a question forming on her face until Mac nodded confirmation. "Love you too," he reiterated. Then he remembered something he'd been meaning to return, digging in both pockets of his jeans until he'd retrieved the item.

"Found this," he said quietly. "Thought I'd better keep it for you." He lifted the gold chain and heart shaped pendant, catching the light with it as he dangled it in front of her. "Pete had it mended," he added, not really surprised to see more tears welling up in Terry's eyes as she recalled the moment he had presented her with it.

"Can I wear it?" she asked with a sense of deja vu.

MacGyver nodded eagerly, feeling for the clasp and leaning around her to fasten it. He laid it down against her neck and lifted her hair out from beneath the chain, sitting back to admire the way it nestled brightly against her white T-shirt.

His eyes raised to meet hers and he felt himself drowning in her watery gaze. Terry leaned in to kiss him, a soft sweet test of his responsiveness that did not go unappreciated. She drew away and smiled at the "Wow" MacGyver made with his lips in silent retort. Then she moved in once more and kissed him harder.

Mac's arms enveloped her, providing comfort in her needful embrace, both of them seeking solace and reassurance after all that had happened, and finding that one thing hadn't changed, the depth of love between them.

They parted breathlessly some minutes later when Mac scooped her into his arms and announced that it was time she got back to bed. The sound of Terry's soft laughter spread through the quiet house as he carried her up the stairs, now firmly on the path to recovery.

Roadie watched them go, his head tilted to one side as he tried futilely to understand the antics of these two beloved humans. Then he laid back down at the bottom of the stairs with his head on his paws and closed his eyes to return to sweet doggy dreams.

~~~~~~~~~~

Two months had passed and it was becoming increasingly clear to Pete that MacGyver had lost all interest in his work. He had turned down several of the most tempting projects the Director of Operations could find to offer him and the one time Mac had left the country since meeting Terry, he had almost blown the mission and nearly got himself and his contact killed.

The last three weeks had been even worse. The Attorney General had yet to decide how to prosecute the case against the former DXS agent Dickson. That was a complicated matter that encompassed the selling of State secrets as well as his involvement in the capital crime of murder. But the case against the three surviving mercenaries was a lot simpler and MacGyver had spent the duration of the last three weeks at the courthouse with Terry where the trials of two of the accused men had been taking place back to back.

The first case had concluded easily thanks to Terry's eyewitness testimony and the heap of irrefutable evidence built up against the defendant. There were ballistics tests from the gun, found covered in incriminating fingerprints, the powder burns on the defendant's hands, and the bullet extracted from the victim. It all added up to a successful conviction and life sentence for the murder of the Phoenix agent outside of David Fleming's home.

That trial had been swift and painless in comparison with the second case that began the day after the first one had completed sentencing. This case was against the blond, bulky mercenary with a malevolent leer who had been largely responsible for Terry's beating inside her brother's house and who was now being charged with the murder of David Fleming.

The man may only have been following orders from the group's leader, but that didn't make him any less culpable. Since the leader was dead and the third mercenary in the group had plea- bargained down to a manslaughter charge on the condition that he also testify against his cohorts, it ought to have been another open and shut case. But the defendant had pleaded not guilty, so the facts still had to be heard. And it turned out that the defending lawyer was more than capable of a convincing argument.

Terry had already been forced to attend the hearing several days in a row without being called to testify yet. When it finally became her turn to appear in the witness box, Pete happened to also be present having gone along that day to lend his own moral support as the trial dragged on.

From the beginning, it seemed that neither the prosecution nor defence lawyers had any interest in making things easy or gentle for the witness. Both verbally assaulted her with incessant questions in their efforts to establish the moral, or amoral, character of the defendant.

As Director of Operations for the Phoenix Foundation, Pete could understand their actions from the point of view that each lawyer was doing what had to be done to conclude the case successfully. But it was still extremely unpleasant to watch and clearly even worse to be on the receiving end.

There were no witnesses to David Fleming's murder and no direct evidence that could tie the defendant to the scene of the crime. No fingerprints were found on the body, nor any DNA samples that could be tested. The prosecution did have an enormous amount of circumstantial evidence found at the freight yard. They had been able to ascertain exactly where the victim had died, inside the same refrigeration lorry where Terry had later been held herself.

They also had the other mercenary's plea-bargained testimony that revealed he had seen the defendant beat the victim before carrying him into the lorry, but at that point the victim had still been alive. Whatever happened after that had not been seen by anyone now living except presumably by the defendant himself, and he certainly wasn't talking about it.

The prosecution had a job to do and that meant getting every minute detail about every encounter with the defendant out of the witness, and seemingly several times over. But if Terry looked browbeaten and exhausted by the time her own side had finished questioning her, things were about to take a turn for the worst.

The defendant's lawyer was a woman. It was an obvious ploy to gain some level of affinity from the jurors towards the male defendant, playing on the simple ingrained attitude that if a female was defending him, he couldn't possibly be as bad as the prosecution was making him out to be.

For a brief instant, the fact that the defence lawyer was a woman even made Pete think that the cross examination of Terry's testimony might be fairly painless. Unfortunately, he was quickly proven wrong. From the moment the lawyer opened her mouth, the direction of questions towards the witness was brutally calculated to break Terry down and make her appear confused and unreliable.

It was hard enough for Pete to watch and he could feel MacGyver, in the seat next to him, becoming more tense and agitated as they were forced to witness the overtly cruel and relentless dismantling of Terry's character.

Pete placed a firm hand on Mac's arm. "She's strong Mac, it'll be all right," he assured his friend quietly.

"I know, Pete," Mac sighed. "I just don't know how much more she can possibly take. Or for that matter how much more I can take!"

When Terry's resolute facade had been demolished to her utmost satisfaction, the lawyer finally got to the point of her seemingly endless tirade. "Miss Wightman, isn't it true that you stand to gain substantially as a result of your brother's death?"

The collective intake of breath could be felt and heard rippling across the courtroom, but Terry simply stared at the defence lawyer speechlessly, the look on her face saying it all. All this latest accusation did was confirm her earlier feelings when she had discovered a female was actually going to defend that malicious man - this lawyer was definitely a raving lunatic.

Unperturbed by the witness' lack of response, the woman continued to clarify her point, "Before your brother died, you were homeless and jobless. Now you own a prestigious house in an upscale location and stand to gain several hundred thousand from his insurance payout."

Terry gaped at the woman as though she was talking gibberish. She hadn't even known that David had a life insurance policy. The meeting with David's lawyer had yet to take place. Terry had been avoiding it for weeks, knowing it would be the final nail in the coffin that signalled David's passing.

The defendant's lawyer continued to rant, revealing even more startling news, "And the work Dr Fleming did for the DXS is worth millions in sales to government and private security agencies. Millions that you, Miss Wightman, now stand to gain under the terms of the agreement that your brother signed when he went to work for the DXS."

Those final words caused Terry to throw a startled glance at MacGyver, seeking any affirmation that there might be some truth in what the woman was saying. Equally bewildered, Mac could only shrug and look towards Pete for help. But it was clear that neither of them knew any more about such an agreement than Terry herself did.

"So, Miss Wightman," the lawyer tried to suppress her smug smile as she wound up for the winning punch, "Do you deny that you stand to gain substantially from the death of your brother?"

At that point the prosecution finally made a feeble attempt to object on the grounds that the question was irrelevant. But it was quickly overruled by the judge, who was awaiting an answer from the witness with as much interest as the twelve jurors and an entire courtroom full of attendees and reporters.

"The witness may answer the question," the judge nodded, turning towards Terry expectantly.

But Terry was staring at the female lawyer in shock, not knowing what to say, but unable to avoid the apparent truth in the woman's statements.

"Do you deny that you stand to gain millions of dollars from the death of your brother?" the woman badgered loudly.

"I.......I," Terry stumbled, her mind in absolute disarray. "I don't know," she said feebly. "I.......I guess so, if what you're saying is true."

Satisfied that she had completely demolished the credibility of the prosecution's material witness, the lawyer addressed the judge, smiling sweetly, "I have no further questions, your Honour." Then she turned and strutted back to take her seat beside the defendant who was struggling to hide his smug leer from the jury and act the perfect model citizen as his lawyer had instructed.

"But no amount of money is ever going to make up for what that man did to my brother!" Terry suddenly found her voice, her pain filled words carrying clearly across the courtroom as her voice rose, gaining in strength and conviction. "David never hurt anyone in his life. He only ever wanted to do good in this world, and that man tortured and murdered him for it!"

Standing up from her seat, Terry pointed towards the defendant, tears finally running down her face, much to the prosecution's relief, who knew how a few female tears could often sway a jury right back where he wanted them.

"He was my brother and you murdered him!" Terry yelled bitterly, trying futilely to keep her emotions in check, to not break down in such a public place.

The defence lawyer scowled slightly and quickly called for a recess, not wanting to allow the witness any more time to gain sympathy or say anything else that might be damaging towards the defendant.

The judge looked at his watch and decided to call it a day, his own relief clearly visible that this particular lengthy session was over.

As the courtroom started to bustle with movement, voices rapidly rising into a humming crescendo, the downtrodden witness was led from the stand by the court usher and into MacGyver's waiting arms.

After a brief exchange of words, Pete went to have his driver pull the car around to the side entrance to collect them. For Terry's sake, he wanted to avoid any of the reporters and photographers who had been constantly hanging around the high profile case, waiting for snippets of soundbites and pictures like buzzards around dead carrion.

So it was with a feeling of utter relief that they reached the car without being spotted. The journey home was made in silence. MacGyver sat with Terry in the back seat, his arm around her shoulders protectively as she mentally fought to separate truth from the exaggeration of a rabid defence lawyer.

The woman's accusations echoed over and over in Terry's head, clouding her judgment and reason until she could no longer think straight. Tears of despondency and grief slid down her cheeks, soaking into Mac's shirt as he pulled her closer into his comforting embrace.

He wished there was something he could say to help, but decided to respect her silence. At least until they were alone, together, in private. So the journey ended wordlessly when Pete's driver dropped MacGyver and Terry off at Mac's houseboat where they had been lying low for the duration of the trial.

~~~~~~~~~~