All right, here's the next part of the story! Mac thinks he's on to something...but is he?
Hidden Kisses Part Two
Rated: PG
Five Years Later…
A knock on the door disturbed MacGyver’s sleep. He tried to ignore it and return to bed, but the knock sounded again, this time louder. Figuring it might be urgent, he sluggishly rolled off his sofa, nearly hitting his coffee table. Yawning and regaining his bearings, he looked up and noticed that dim morning light was glowing in his windows. The sun had not yet risen. If it was Pete, as he thought it was, he wondered what was so important that he had to be awakened so early. He stood slowly, gripping the edge of his sofa to steady himself. Stumbling towards the door, he yawned again and rubbed a hand through his unruly hair. He didn’t care much about looking presentable, especially that early in the morning. It was only Pete, anyway. When he opened the door, however, he was shocked to see his beautiful next door neighbor Vanessa standing there. Immediately he tried to straighten his rumpled clothes and hair, feeling embarrassed.
“Hello MacGyver,” she said, smiling, finding his self-consciousness and his boyish appearance adorable.
“Uh…hello,” he said, still trying to smooth his uncooperative cowlick.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I just thought this might be the only time you weren’t…busy.”
“Well, I was busy sleeping,” MacGyver said, grinning.
“I should come back later.” She began to walk away.
“No, wait! Stay a minute. It’s all right.”
“Are you sure?”
“Why not? Tell me what’s on your mind.”
“I was…just wondering if you were up for that date you keep postponing because you have to rush off to some urgent business.” She winked.
“What…now?”
“Why not? I’m an early person, and the only time I see you around here is when you’re sleeping.”
MacGyver laughed slightly. “I’ve never heard anyone ask me on a morning date,” he said.
“I’ll make you breakfast, and maybe some coffee to wake you up.”
“I don’t drink it.”
“Well, that’s okay. I’m out, anyway.”
MacGyver smiled. “Then why did you offer me some?”
“It’s customary to offer, isn’t it?”
“I suppose so.”
“Come on. You can come as you are. You should be all for this kind of date, MacGyver. You don’t have to dress up, no flair, no fuss—just easy. Two people having a decent conversation over breakfast—that’s all.”
MacGyver smiled and shook his head. He couldn’t believe what a charming woman he had been missing all those times. Of course she was gorgeous, but now he knew she also had intelligence and a witty personality in addition to it.
“All right, you’ve got me,” he said.
“Good.”
***
Vanessa’s breakfast consisted of scrambled eggs, toast, and orange juice. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it suited MacGyver just fine. He was more interested in the woman than the food, anyway. It had been so long since he had any kind of relationship, all of his previous ones ending badly, the women either betraying him or simply deciding it was time to move on, knowing well that he wouldn’t commit because of his history and his insecurities, leaving him alone once again. He hoped this time with Vanessa it would be different. If it wasn’t, at least he could remember having a nice breakfast conversation with her.
“So tell me, MacGyver,” she said, pouring him orange juice from a glass pitcher, “how come you’re always running off somewhere? What is it you do?”
MacGyver groaned inwardly, hating that question. He knew by now to expect it, given the secretive and unusual nature of his job, but he still didn’t have an answer to it that would make sense and quell curiosity.
“It’s…kinda complicated,” he said.
Vanessa raised an eyebrow. “Complicated, huh? Sounds spooky. What, are you a courier for the Mob?” She asked, a teasing grin on her lips.
“No, it’s just that it’s rather boring to discuss,” he said. “It’s really not that exciting, what I do.” He hated lying to her, but he also had to protect her.
“I see,” Vanessa said, glancing down at her toast and picking it up, sighing.
“I don’t mean to offend you,” MacGyver said, watching her.
She looked up at him with her pale green eyes. “You didn’t,” she said. “I don’t really think any of us can explain what we do for a living. It usually doesn’t make much sense anyway, does it?”
MacGyver smiled. “No,” he said. “It doesn’t.”
“So, where are you from? Or, can you tell me that?” Vanessa asked, biting into her toast.
“I’m from Minnesota.”
“I could understand why you wouldn’t want to tell anyone that,” Vanessa said, laughing slightly.
“What? Oh come on, it’s not that bad there.”
“It’s freezing!”
“Yeah, but it’s great for hockey.”
“You’re a hockey fan, huh?”
“Sure am, Ma’am.”
“Maybe we’ll have to go to a game together sometime.”
“I’d like that.”
MacGyver watched her for awhile. He couldn’t explain why, but something about her seemed vaguely familiar to him. She seemed unusual, almost a little too perfect, if that was possible. She spoke perfect English, but there wasn’t a trace of any regional accent or dialect. She seemed trained somehow. He had been around enough agents to notice the subtleties of playing a role. Then he told himself that he was being ridiculous and paranoid. There was no possible way his next door neighbor was anything but that. He had simply been working far too hard lately.
“So, where are you from originally, Vanessa?” He asked.
“Here,” she said.
“California, huh? Really?”
“Yep. Born and raised.”
“That’s great. It’s a beautiful state.”
Vanessa smiled. “You came here to escape the cold, I’ll bet,” she said.
“Well that, and other reasons.”
“For your job?”
“I guess you could say that.”
They were silent again for awhile, eating. The sunrise blazed a deep, burnt orange, and it spread beautifully over the water in the marina. They admired it for awhile. As they sat there in Vanessa’s house boat, feeling it rock gently with the motion of the water, MacGyver finally realized what it was about her that seemed familiar. It was the sound of her voice more than anything. It reminded him of a distant time and place, but he didn’t know how he could possibly connect her to it. She seemed to watch him with a knowing, secretive gaze that communicated more than what she was willing to disclose verbally. It was almost as if both of them felt this strange, deeper connection to each other that was impossible to have since they had just met.
“I’m glad you finally came over to see me, MacGyver,” she said. “I’ve wanted to get to know you for some time since we became neighbors.”
“So have I,” MacGyver said. “Although, I feel like I’ve known you for quite some time. I can’t explain it.”
He noticed that she seemed uncomfortable, shifting slightly in her chair and a nervous smile on her face. She returned quickly to seeming calm, looking at him with intense eyes and smiling more confidently, trying to show him that what he said didn’t faze her. Maybe it hadn’t. Maybe he was just imagining her reaction and her attempts to conceal it.
“We were meant to be, I guess,” she said. “Soul mates.”
MacGyver smiled and eased back into his chair, trying to relax. He told himself that she was probably intimidated by how he was behaving toward her, and that he shouldn’t be so distrustful and questioning of every woman that he met just because of his bad experiences with women in the past. It was unfair to her.
“Maybe so,” he said.
“MacGyver? Mac, are you home?” MacGyver heard Pete ask next door at his house boat, knocking on the door.
“Great,” he said, rolling his eyes. “This always happens at the most inconvenient times.” He looked at Vanessa and smiled.
“Who is that?” Vanessa asked, peering around her door at Pete.
“It’s my boss,” MacGyver said. “Sounds like he needs me—again.”
Vanessa smiled and looked down at the table with the half eaten breakfast dishes strewn about it. “Well, I understand,” she said. “You’d better go see what he wants.”
“I’m sorry,” MacGyver said, reaching out and gently squeezing her hand. Even the smooth texture of it reminded him of some other time. “We’ll have to catch up with each other again soon.”
“I’ll look forward to it,” Vanessa said, staring at him with those eyes that seemed to know something she was unwilling to reveal.
MacGyver nodded at her and turned to leave, still unsure of why she stirred up so many feelings of familiarity. He couldn’t completely understand her. He tried to remain vague about his life, but she had ended up being more cryptic than he had. It wasn’t obvious, but she had her subtle methods. He could tell.
“Pete,” he said, stepping off Vanessa’s house boat and back into the morning light on the pier. He glanced back inside the house boat. Vanessa was no longer watching him. She seemed to have disappeared.
“Well, there you are!” Pete said, smiling and walking towards him. “I was beginning to worry. You’re never up this early.” He looked at the small house boat that belonged to Vanessa. “What are you doing over here?” He asked.
“Oh, just having breakfast with a friend.”
Pete noticed that MacGyver’s deep brown eyes were filled with concern. Even without communicating it, he could tell that his friend was asking for either reassurance or assistance of some kind.
“Is something wrong?” He asked.
“Well, I…”
“Hello!” Vanessa said, stepping off her boat and joining the men on the pier, reappearing as if from nowhere. She shook Pete’s hand. “So you must be the man that makes MacGyver work so many long and unreasonable hours.” She smiled and winked at MacGyver.
“Pete, this is…my neighbor, Vanessa,” MacGyver said, perplexed by her behavior. She seemed so normal, open, and friendly, yet moments ago she seemed more like a woman with something to hide.
“We were having breakfast before you rudely interrupted us,” she teased. “Would you like anything?”
“No, I’m fine, thank you,” Pete said, smiling. He glanced at MacGyver, who wouldn’t even look at him, focusing entirely on Vanessa as if transfixed. He suddenly understood the reasons for his friend’s concern and inner anguish. He was in love and afraid of getting hurt again. “Listen Vanessa, would you excuse us, please? MacGyver and I have something to discuss.”
“Of course,” she said, smiling an easy, relaxed smile. “Business calls. I completely understand. Don’t work too hard.”
“We’ll try not to,” MacGyver said, his features softening enough for him to return a smile. “I’ll see you later.”
“I know you will.”
When she said this, MacGyver felt an odd chill race up his back that he couldn’t explain. She was a gorgeous, funny, and warm woman. Why did he have to be so suspicious of her? She was harmless. Pete wrapped his arm around his back as if to steady him, leading him back to his house boat. MacGyver knew she was still watching them, and Pete seemed to as well, waiting until they got inside the house boat to begin talking.
“Well, what was that all about?” He asked.
“What?” MacGyver asked.
“She seems like a nice girl, yet you were acting afraid of her like she was an assassin.” He saw MacGyver flinch slightly, and he realized that he hadn’t completely forgotten about Deborah. “I’m sorry. Look, I know you’ve had difficulties with women in the past, but you should relax. Vanessa seems like a great woman to start a relationship with.”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to do for the past few months, but you keep dragging me away from her,” MacGyver said, grinning.
“So tell me what’s going on. Why did you look so stunned out there?”
MacGyver frowned and sat on his sofa, propping his long legs up on his coffee table. “I swear I know her from somewhere,” he said.
“Oh, yeah? Where?”
MacGyver smiled and shook his head. “Nope,” he said. “No, it’s ridiculous.”
“What is? Just tell me.”
MacGyver looked up at Pete. “Remember that rescue in Russia five years ago?” he asked.
“You think she’s the unidentified woman who pulled off the rescue? Mac, that woman was Russian.”
“I know. I told you I was being ridiculous. Forget it. So, tell me the reason you came over here.”
“You’re going to have to learn to trust,” Pete said. “Maybe you should see a therapist.”
“Forget the therapy talk. It was nothing, I swear. I’m done. Come on, tell me why you’re here.”
Pete sighed. “There are several former KGB agents in the country right now. We’ve been tracking them, but we’re still unsure of their reasons for being here,” he said. “The theory is that they’re here to possibly assassinate an agent exiled in this country.”
MacGyver’s thoughts momentarily shifted to Vanessa, but he brushed them aside. “So, what do you want me to do?” He asked.
“We’re still monitoring the situation,” Pete said. “I just wanted to inform you. Once there’s reason to act, I’ll need you to stop the assassination.”
“Beautiful.”
They were silent for awhile. MacGyver’s refrigerator turned on, humming softly.
“Listen Pete, could you do me a favor?”
“What?”
“No, I’d better not. Never mind.”
”It’s about Vanessa, isn’t it?”
”Never mind, Pete.”
“What is it, Mac? Just tell me what you want.”
MacGyver looked up at him. “I hate to do this, but could you do a background check on Vanessa?” He asked.
“What? Mac, she’s not dangerous.”
“I know, but I get this strange feeling about her.”
“The feeling that you know her?”
“Yeah, it’s a very weird, déjà vu kind of thing.”
“It could just be a coincidence.”
“I know, but Pete, I feel it’s stronger than that this time.”
Pete approached him, gently patting him on the leg. “Listen Mac, I can’t use the resources of The Phoenix Foundation to investigate some woman just because you have a paranoid hunch that she might be something more than just your next door neighbor,” he said.
“I know, but something seemed off about her—her mannerisms, the way she spoke…it just seemed like she was putting on a well rehearsed act. What if she is the woman who rescued me all those years ago? She could be the agent those other KGB agents are looking for.”
“Because she rescued you?”
“Why not? It all makes sense, doesn’t it? Why else would she hide out here with a disguised American accent?”
Pete sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. He worried about his friend, but a part of him did wonder if he was on to something. Ever since he knew Mac, he’d always noticed an unusually heightened sensitivity when it came to reading people, almost as if he was clairvoyant.
“You were blindfolded when that woman rescued you. She could be anyone.”
“I know it sounds crazy,” MacGyver said, watching him. “I just want to know who she really is.”
“If you want to know, why don’t you just ask her?”
“Pete, just do this for me…please.”
“All right, but it will be unofficial.”
“Thanks.”
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
