MacGyver thought about Atlas and Carmichael all the way home, queuing through the LA traffic and smog thick enough to make all the cars in the distance hazy. Carmichael seemed blameless, apart from an occasional hint of scandal found in some of the sleazier tabloids. Not scandal that had ever found its way into the more serious newspapers though, which he concluded meant either that the story had been squashed quickly, or that it had never really existed in the first place.

MacGyver pulled the Jeep into his driveway and turned off the engine. As the Jeep’s rumble stopped, he became aware of shouting and got out, going around the back of the apartment to investigate.

“Mac! Thank God! Help!” Jack Dalton flattened himself against the back of the building as Mama Lorraine brandished the yard brush at him.

“You stay there! MacGyver – I’ve got him cornered.” Mama Lorraine glanced across at MacGyver, fierce triumph on her face, “Do you want him, or can I have him?” She advanced another step and Jack squeaked, trying to press himself further into the corner next to the garbage cans.

“Mama! Let him go, please!” MacGyver stepped forwards, laying a hand on the brush.

“Are you sure?” Mama Lorraine frowned at Jack, white faced and with his hat tipped over one eye, “He looks dodgy to me!”

“Oh, he’s dodgy,” MacGyver ignored Jack’s indignant glare. “But he’s harmless and he’s my friend.” He tugged gently at the brush but Mama Lorraine refused to let go. “Please?”

“Well, alright then.” Mama Lorraine lowered the brush. “If you say so…” She watched Jack scramble out of the garbage, straightening his hat and scooping up a duffle bag as he hurried around to the front of the building.

“Mac, you’ve got some odd friends.”

“Oh, I know it!” MacGyver grinned and saluted Mama Lorraine, “Thank you for letting him go!”

“Absolutely.” Jack blew on his coffee and took a sip. “And it was doing just fine, and then the yakuza got involved and then a rival gym set up across the street, and then health and safety took a distinct dislike to my premises.” He shook his head, “Then Panama Frank got married to a truly terrifying woman about this big.” Jack held his hand out about five feet above the ground, “And she told him to pack it in before he scrambled his brains, then there might have been a disagreement over a crowd-pleaser sequence that went a little… sideways and the fight that followed trashed all the dressing rooms. After that, the business went into a bit of a decline.” Jack took off his hat and scratched his head. “So, I decided maybe wrestling wasn’t for me and I should stick at what I’m good at.”

“Uh huh.” MacGyver sat back on the couch, resting his tea mug on his knee. “And what would that be?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Flying! Was there doubt, amigo?” Jack jammed his hat back on his head and spread his arms wide, “Dalton Air lives again!” He tipped his arms and made the sound of a Spitfire diving on the enemy, “And you, you lucky devil, are just in time to get in on the ground floor of this highly profitable start up venture!” Jack waggled his eyebrows.

“No.” MacGyver took a swig of tea, “Not this time Jack.”

“Oh, come on Mac!” Jack dropped his arms. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“I’ve got adventure enough here at home right now, Jack.” MacGyver ran his free hand through his hair. “I gotta see something through before I take on any new projects, highly profitable or otherwise.”

“Can I help?” Jack sat forwards, his expression earnest.

“Uh… Not with this. Sorry Jack.” MacGyver shrugged, seeing Jacks disappointment. “Won’t you be too busy with Dalton Air anyway?”

“It’s…um…still in the planning stage, so to speak.” Jack grinned. “Needs a little cash injecting into its engines before the business can really take off, I guess you could say.”

“You bought another wreck, didn’t you? MacGyver buried his face in his hands. “Even after what happened last time, you bought a wreck!”

“A prime renovation opportunity!” Jack sat up straight, taking a deep breath. “Which, when full realised and…uh…reassembled, will form the – “He broke off as MacGyver held up a hand.

“Let me guess, you’ve bought a wreck, you’ve spent your last dollar trying to get it fit to fly, and you turn up on my doorstep with the bag because it’s too cold to sleep in the plane and you don’t have anywhere else to go. Am I right? MacGyver ran his hands through his hair and sighed, “Ok, Jack, welcome to Casa MacGyver, guest room is on the left.”

“Me too.” MacGyver pulled the elastic band holding his ponytail tight and polished his glasses on his waiter’s apron. “But your friend turning up the fact that the name ‘Carmichael’ is known to the FBI probably had something to do with it.”

“Probably.” Seeley put the Lexus in gear and the powerful car pulled smoothly away from the intersection. “Carmichael having a twin was something of a surprise though. I didn’t see that one coming.”

“Me neither.” MacGyver squinted through the lens of his glasses, then put them on. “Troy and Tristan, I wonder how alike they are?”

“Hard to say,” Seeley shrugged, the expensive fabric of his tuxedo settling perfectly back on to his shoulders. “And even if they’re identical to look at, it doesn’t mean they’re identical in character.” He glanced in the mirror and accelerated around a van, the purr of the engine barely changing as the car built up speed. “Although my limited experience of obscenely rich people suggests that neither of them will have completely clean hands.”

“Mm.” MacGyver checked his apron pocket to make sure the bug was secure, “Was your FBI friend able to tell us which deeds belonged to which twin?”

“Nope.” Seeley pulled into the hotel driveway and joined the queue of expensive cars. “They both only ever use their surname and initial so there’s no way to untangle which ‘T Carmichael’ is which.”

“Pity,” MacGyver unfastened his seatbelt, “Well, time for Dexter to go wait tables.” He opened the car door and stepped out, “See you on the inside.”

“See you.” Seeley watched MacGyver walk around to the back of the hotel.

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