Work Text:
When the letters and numbers on the screen finally blurred beyond recognition, Riley closed the program she’d been working on and put the lab computer to sleep. Her eyes burned. She was horribly behind on developing this program; it needed to start beta testing days ago, but the team’s back to back multi-day ops and her impromptu trip with the Coltons on her supposed day off consumed all of her time and energy this week.
Posing as a think tank, the Phoenix did have to do think tank-y things on occasion, after all, and every agent was expected to contribute to the organization’s public projects. Including a certain physically and emotionally exhausted hacker.
Mac sat across from her, fidgeting with spare robot parts. Riley checked the time. 10:58 pm. Everyone else had gone home hours ago. She vaguely recalled Bozer teasing her about not spending the night in his lab again. Pointing at Mac, he’d said, “Good thing he’s just as much of a workaholic as you are.” Riley knew Mac was just there to keep her company—and because they’d carpooled—not because he needed to keep working, but she hadn’t bothered to correct Bozer.
Groaning, Riley let her head fall into her hands. It felt like some invisible force was squeezing her skull, slowly crushing it like a grape. She needed to go to bed. Possibly forever.
“You okay?” She glimpsed Mac’s concerned frown between her fingers.
“Yeah,” she replied, dragging her hands through her hair. “I have a headache, that’s all.” Understatement of the century. “How long until you’re done?”
Mac looked unconvinced; when it came to her, he didn’t miss much. Mercifully, he didn’t push for a more elaborate answer. “Um, I need a few more minutes to finish this, plus maybe fifteen more to clean up. Bozer will kill me if I leave a giant mess in his lab.” Riley managed a small smirk. Indeed he would.
Riley figured it would be at least a half hour before he was ready to leave. Just enough time for a nap. “Take your time, Mac.” She stood, hauling her backpack onto her shoulder. “I’m going to take a nap. Come find me when you’re ready to go.” He nodded.
Sleep beckoning, Riley left the lab in search of a comfy chair.
*****
Thirty minutes later, Mac found her curled up in her favorite chair in the war room. Knees tucked into her chest, head cradled in the crook of her elbow, she looked breathtakingly peaceful.
He regretted waking her the moment he gently shook her shoulder. Riley grumbled something unintelligible that might have been his name.
“Time to go home, Riles.” Mac shouldered her backpack and helped her out of the chair.
Riley could barely open her eyes. She took one staggering step forward and nearly wiped out on the table she definitely didn’t realize was right in front of her. He knew she was exhausted—he was too—but this was alarming. She was burning herself out on the least important part of her job, and Mac didn’t understand why. A problem for tomorrow, he decided.
Mac wrapped an arm around her waist, helping keep her upright. “Thank you,” she mumbled. He pressed a quick kiss to the side of her head.
Mac’s truck sat alone in the underground lot. He was immensely grateful he and Riley had carpooled to work that day. Otherwise, if he hadn’t stayed to keep her company while she worked, she definitely would’ve spent the whole night in that war room chair.
They drove home in silence. Riley quickly fell asleep in the passenger seat, head resting on the window.
She was still out cold when he parked his truck in the driveway, and Mac couldn’t bring himself to wake her up twice in one night. He slid his arms around her back and under her knees and carried her inside. Mac’s heart melted when she snuggled her face into his shoulder. He could hold her like this forever. “Let’s get you to bed,” he murmured.
Mac laid her on the guest bed and rested her backpack against the nightstand. He quickly unlaced her boots and pulled them off, revealing bright yellow and orange striped socks. He chuckled, imagining her muttering at him to stop laughing at her socks.
Grabbing a makeup wipe from the guest bathroom, it took him a few minutes to remove her stubborn eyeliner. No wonder, he’d seen it withstand blazing infernos, days in the woods, blood, sweat, tears, everything.
He tucked her under the covers before retrieving her favorite pajama shirt—an old t-shirt of his—and shorts. Mac left them at the foot of Riley’s bed, so she could change into them whenever she woke up.
Riley curled into a loose ball, snuggling her face deeper into her pillow, and Mac couldn’t help but worry as he closed the door halfway and retreated to his room.
*****
Riley awoke in the middle of the night to her bra’s underwire stabbing her in the chest. She blinked a few times, trying to get her bearings. She definitely wasn’t in the war room anymore.
It took longer than Riley cared to admit to realize she was back in Mac’s guest bedroom— her bedroom for the year she’d lived with him. Mac must’ve taken her home from the Phoenix.
Riley rolled onto her back, and her underwire stabbed her again. Fuck this , she thought, yanking off her tank top, then her bra, and sighing in relief as the straps fell down her shoulders. Chucking them both on the floor, she noticed the stack of clothes at the foot of her bed, blending in so well with the dark sheets Riley almost missed them. She smiled, silently thanking the man sleeping across the hall, and changed into her pajamas.
While debating whether to stay or join Mac, Riley stretched her back and hips, joints popping softly. She could be lazy and spend the rest of the night in her old room, or she could go cuddle with her boyfriend, but that would require getting up. But if she got up, she could also brush her teeth.
Had she even had dinner? Riley couldn’t remember. Her brain was still foggy.
Ultimately, her desire to sleep with Mac and brush her teeth won out, and Riley hauled herself out of bed and across the hall, feet barely lifting off the ground with each step.
Mac was a pretty light sleeper, so Riley slipped into bed beside him as quietly as she could. He stirred, but didn’t wake. Sinking into the mattress, Riley knew switching beds was the right choice. Her body relaxed more in Mac’s presence. She’d never realized how lonely exhaustion was, not until she had someone she could freely share with and who could empathize with her. Even so, she’d still lied earlier about how she really felt, mostly for the sake of her dignity. Mac was her best friend, but Riley was loath to outright admit to weakness, even to him.
She wanted to snuggle into his warmth and tuck her face between his shoulder blades, but that would surely wake him up. And waking Mac up would lead to questions she didn’t want to answer just yet. So, Riley stuck to her side of the mattress, tucked her legs into her chest, and went back to sleep.
*****
When Mac’s alarm went off, he wasn’t alone. Riley had snuck into his bed at some point and now curled into a tiny ball, facing away from him.
He wished they didn’t have to go to work today, wished they could sleep in and he could pry some answers from her. But the world wouldn’t save itself.
He texted Matty. Please don’t send us on an op someone else could do. Riley’s burning herself out, and I can’t figure out why .
I’ll keep an eye on her , Matty replied immediately.
Thank you .
Leaning over to kiss his girlfriend’s cheek, Mac got up and went for a run.
He did an easy three miles around the neighborhood, letting the cool dawn air wake him up. Mac smiled every time he passed someone else out for a run or walking their dog before the July sun made leaving the house practically unbearable.
When he returned, Mac found Riley awake and making coffee for them both. Her back was to him, so Mac scanned her body for signs of stress or injury, finding neither. “Good morning,” he said to break the silence.
Riley turned to him, bleary-eyed and still half asleep, and held out a steaming mug of coffee. Mac accepted, kissing her cheek in gratitude. It shocked him how easy it all was. She croaked, “How was your run?”
Mac couldn’t deny the way seeing Riley in his clothes affected him—the same way, he realized guiltily, the sight had always appeased some primal, possessive part of his brain, even when they were just friends—but damn it hit differently when she wore a sleepy, lovesick smile and had just crawled out of his bed. Riley had always been his girl, but now she was his girl.
The whole scene was sweet and domestic and everything he’d ever wanted.
“Good,” he finally answered. “I even stopped to say hi to our favorite dog.” An elderly couple who lived a few streets away had a mini Aussie, who was quite possibly the happiest being in the universe. She would trot alongside her humans without a leash, but when Mac or Riley appeared, she whined and whined until her owners said “Go ahead,” and she’d come barreling full-force into Mac or Riley’s chest and lavish them with endless kisses. Her name was Freya.
Riley’s eyes lit up in excitement. “My dog!” Mac chuckled, sliding onto one of the bar seats tucked below the counter.
Changing the subject, Mac tried to be nonchalant when he asked, “How do you feel this morning?” Worry crept into his voice anyway.
“Better,” Riley said, the mug hiding her face as she sipped her coffee. “Thanks for taking me home.”
Of course he took her home. Even if they weren’t dating, Mac still would’ve taken her home and given her his clothes. There was no universe in which he wouldn’t do that.
“Like I was going to let you spend the night in that chair.” Riley toyed with the hem of her shirt, her usual lively presence vanishing like a turtle retreating into its shell. Mac probed, “What’s up?” She sighed, still looking down. “Riles?”
When she finally looked up, Riley’s eyes were heavy with guilt. “Do you know how many times I almost got us killed this week?” Mac waited. “ Twice . I led us—led you —right into traps I should’ve seen from a mile away. And before that, I gave you a fucking panic attack that sent you driving through the middle of nowhere to come find me!” Her voice crescendoed. “And now? Now I can’t even get that stupid program to work right! I just want to be able to do one thing right. One thing! Is that too much to ask?” Riley let out a loud, frustrated groan, shoulders caving inward.
Mac stayed in his seat, letting Riley have her space. He knew she didn’t like being coddled when she was frustrated. “I almost get us killed constantly,” he reminded her. “It’s part of our job. No one is holding it against you, especially not me. And that panic attack was the best thing to happen to me, because without it we’d still be waiting for one of us to find the courage to confess. This is going to sound hypocritical coming from me, but you can’t beat yourself up about that stuff.”
Riley snorted. “Very hypocritical.”
“You have to take the small wins as they come, okay? We’re not dead! We had sex! The important stuff!”
“I see you have your priorities together.” Her tone was snarky, but Mac caught her smile between sips of coffee.
“If we didn’t have to go to work I’d bend you over the counter and tell you how hot you look in my shirt.” Mac was impressed with how casually he managed to say that; he could only imagine Riley’s merciless teasing if his voice had cracked.
Riley blushed, even as she cautiously said, “We could do that anyway.”
The apprehension in her voice hit Mac like a bucket of cold water. He couldn’t just say things like that to his girlfriend of two days. Or maybe she was his best friend and he didn’t care. Mac couldn’t decide. This thing between them was so new, yet it felt like they’d been together forever. The butterflies lasted forty-eight hours tops, before the calm sense of belonging, of home, washed over them. Mac had never had that happen so quickly in a relationship before. Usually it took weeks or even months, not two days.
“It’s not like they’re going to know,” Riley added.
That made the decision for him. “Are you kidding me? If we walk in late together, they’ll absolutely know why. They’re like professional mind readers! We’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Correction,” Riley said. “ You’ll never hear the end of it. Desi and Bozer will just high five me and say, ‘Nice .’”
Mac frowned. She was right, unfortunately. He finished the rest of his coffee, grimacing at the bitter last sip. Placing his mug in the sink, Mac said, “Seriously though, I want you to feel safe sharing with me when you feel like this, Riles.” He leaned against the sink. “Let me help you.”
Riley crossed to him, finally closing the gap between them, and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Okay,” she agreed, head resting on his shoulder. She sighed. “I really don’t want to go to work today, but if I get any more behind on that damn project I am going to pull my hair out.”
Mac pressed a single kiss where her neck met her shoulder. “Your hair is beautiful. Please don’t pull it out.” Gently, he unwound Riley’s scrunchie, letting her hair tumble down her back so he could play with it.
“Just for you.”
They stood like that as long as they could, before they really did need to get ready for work. “I need to shower,” Mac finally said, ruining the quiet moment. “Care to join me?”
Riley raised an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t want to be late.”
A very serious shower,” Mac amended. “No funny business.”
“ Right .” Riley kissed him until Mac couldn’t hold back his grin. “No funny business. Now where have I heard that before?”
Laughing, Mac dragged his girlfriend toward the bathroom.