Sacramento Sheriffs Department

5484 Dewey Drive

Fair Oaks

MacGyver had driven back from the bridge on his own in the hire car, but if he'd had company, he would have had little to say.

His mind was swirling with everything he'd discovered, and what that actually meant.

To have an open mind was one thing, but to succumb to the possibility that ghosts could exist and interact with people? He still wasn't quite ready for that.

Once he'd gotten to the hotel, he'd quickly caught up with Pete Thornton and handed over the paint samples. There was a good chance Phoenix could process them faster than the local cops – especially with how close it was to Christmas.

And besides, somehow Mac had suspected the police wouldn't be all that eager to reopen the case.

And he was right.

Right now, Mac and Pete were sitting in the office of the cop who had dealt with Molly's disappearance, and the man wasn't exactly helpful. He stared at them as if he thought they had some ulterior motive.

"Look," MacGyver pushed. "All we're asking is that you get some people out there and check the river. All the evidence I found points to Molly Gregson's car going over that derelict bridge…"

The cop, whose nametag read Burghaus, shrugged. "You expect me to go to my boss and ask him to spend thousands of tax payer's dollars out on double time to search the river? At Christmas?"

"Molly has a family that deserves to know what happened to her. They need closure," Mac argued. "And the paint I found…"

"Proves a car went over there at some point." Burghaus countered. "Until the analysis is back, we can't confirm it was Molly's, and even if it is, then what? Look, I don't mean to be harsh, but it's been a year. Everyone knows Molly is gone. Just because the town didn't bury her, doesn't mean we haven't grieved and moved on."

Pete huffed. "Tell that to her kids!"

"I'm sorry, but I can't sanction anything over the holiday." Burghaus wasn't budging. "Our budget just wouldn't cover it for an old case like this."

"Can you tell me one thing? What color was Riggs's car?"

"It was yellow, like the paint you found." Burghaus sighed and began to fidget with a pen on his desk. "Look, we knew he'd been harassing women, but no one could identify him. If that dumb reporter had done things by the book, none of this would have happened…"

MacGyver's mind raced back to his time in the Pontiac with Molly, and to their conversation.

Mac relaxed just a touch. "A camera – he's a journalist."

"We could do with a good journalist around these parts," Molly took a turn and MacGyver finally recognized the road. "Reporters around here tend to miss things, let things slide that shouldn't, and before you know it…"

"What reporter?" MacGyver couldn't believe what was happening or how, but somehow it was all fitting together, albeit slowly.

"A young reporter from the local paper interviewed Riggs while he was drunk and feeling pretty mouthy," Burghaus explained, sitting forward in his chair now that he finally had something useful to say. "Riggs confessed to chasing the women in his truck, and to getting a kick out of scaring them. The trouble was the reporter didn't come straight to us. He just printed the dang thing the next day to get his scoop. By then, Molly had probably been Riggs' final victim."

Mac felt cold, like he had been the one who had let Molly down. But this had been a year ago, and there was nothing he could have done.

But there is now. Molly deserves to be laid to rest and her family deserves the truth.

MacGyver turned to Pete, hoping if the cop wouldn't condone a search, then maybe Pete would. "Pete, can you lend me a Phoenix helicopter and pilot for a few hours? I'd like to fly down the river and take a look. It's a long shot but?"

Pete licked his lips. "I'd love to help, but I can't sanction the use of a Phoenix helicopter by anyone that isn't strictly on the Phoenix payroll. The costs alone, the insurance issues…" There was a twinkle in his eyes as he spoke.

Mac played along. "Okay, Pete, you got me. No more discussions. I'll come back after the holidays on your terms, if I get a chopper within the hour to look for the remains of that Pontiac."

Pete chuckled. "I'll meet you in the field behind the hotel in thirty minutes."

"You're coming along?" MacGyver was surprised. But then, maybe his supernatural tale had intrigued Pete too.

Pete pushed up from the chair in Burghaus's office and made the way to the door unassisted. "Why not? Just because I'm blind doesn't mean I'm going to sit on my butt in my office all day. And besides," his voice softened. "I don't understand what happened to you the other night, or what you saw, but I do know there is a family in this town that needs answers."

MacGyver looked at the cop, who had been silently listening to them.

Burghaus looked almost ashamed that he'd done nothing to help, but didn't speak.

"They'll have answers," MacGyver promised. "Whatever it takes."

The Phoenix Huey had been ready even before Pete had promised, and so had Pete. They'd taken off just twenty minutes after leaving the police office in Fair Oaks. How Pete had pulled it off was anyone's guess, but he had a tendency to be able to do the impossible, just like Father Christmas.

MacGyver looked at his old friend as the helicopter skimmed over the rippling river, and realized Pete actually would make a great Santa if he had a beard and an outfit. He smiled to himself, but thought better of making the suggestion.

"Sir, we're coming to another bend in the river up ahead. Looks like there might be a couple of areas where a vehicle might get snagged." It was the pilot giving information over his headset.

Mac gave the flier a thumbs up and leaned out of the open side door to scan for signs of a car.

The Huey slowed and began to more or less hover over the burbling water so that they could search more easily. The helicopter had extensive equipment on board, including infra red and heat scanners, but they weren't much help in this instance.

"See anything?" Pete looked restless.

This was the fifth time they'd stopped to investigate a possible search area, and so far they'd all come up with nothing.

They were miles down stream from the collapsed bridge now, having passed over several other towns on the way.

Mac squinted. He wasn't sure, but it looked like there might be something just below the surface right where the pilot had indicated.

There were lots of old and rotting logs that had caught on something under the water, and if logs could snag, than maybe a red Pontiac station wagon could too.

The problem was, it would take hours to get divers out here, by which time it would be dark. And the next day was Christmas Eve.

Mac wasn't sure why that bothered him. Pete would still arrange for the search, no matter what the cost, of that he was sure. But it didn't feel right.

Molly shouldn't wait another day to have peace.

"I think there's something snagged under the surface," he finally answered. "I'm going down to take a look."

"You're what?" Pete sounded incredulous. "You can't go in the water!"

But MacGyver was already prepared. This time, he'd brought his own rope, and he was attaching it swiftly to a metal rung in the chopper meant to secure cargo. Once he was satisfied with his knot, he wrapped the other end around his waist and then talked into his own headset.

"Get me as close to the water as you can, then try and stay in position. I need to find what's caught up along with those logs…" Mac pointed to exactly where he wanted to jump out.

Any lesser pilot might have argued, but Mac knew this man – had worked with him on assignments before, and he knew just how dedicated he was.

And how skilled.

The pilot nodded and took the Huey so low the skids actually dipped in and out of the river as it gushed past. It was perfect for what MacGyver needed, and he removed his headset and dived in, ignoring how cold it felt.

The current here was stronger than he'd expected, and he needed to fight it all the way over to the crumbling tree timbers.

He caught the end of one, his hands slipping for a moment until he reaffirmed his grip on a gnarled branch. Catching his breath, he took down several gulps of air and then dived.

It was murky below the surface, but there was still enough visibility to see the outline of a car.

But was it Molly's, or an ancient relic that had been here years?

MacGyver swam closer, kicking against the flow of the river until he could touch the metal of the vehicle. It felt cold, like death, and he couldn't help but shiver.

At this distance, it also gave up the secret he'd been dreading.

The car was definitely Molly's. Even the dent was there that he'd seen the night she'd given him a lift.

Pulling himself along its length, he headed for the driver's door, his stomach churning at what he might find after a year under water.

However, the door was open, and the glass in it was smashed as if someone had been trying to fight their way free.

There was no remains, at least not here, but MacGyver knew all too well that Molly's body could have been carried for miles, or have been snagged somewhere on the river bed, never to be found.

He felt deflated, like he had failed Molly and her family, and kicked off, swimming quickly back to the surface.

The Huey was waiting for him, sending the water around him spiraling outwards with the downdraught of its rotors.

Mac ignored it and gave the pilot a thumbs up again, this time to indicate he wanted to get back onboard.

The pilot dipped low again, until the skids were jut under the water and Mac was able to grab onto one and pull his soaked body inside.

He rolled over, tired from fighting the river, from the cold, and from being thwarted in his search.

Pete used his hands to feel for a blanket and passed it over. MacGyver took it gratefully and wrapped it around his shoulders.

He retrieved his headset and spoke to the pilot first. "Can you get us in touch with the town sheriff or police department most local to this spot?"

The pilot nodded. "Yes sir, give me a minute…"

While he worked on the task, MacGyver turned to Pete. "The car's down there. Riggs really did it…"

Pete's expression said he was feeling as down as Mac was. "Is there..?"

"There's no body. At least not in the Pontiac."

"But you figure the local cops might have found a Jane Doe, that's why you asked Mike to contact them?"

"Its what I'm hoping. To come this far and still not give Molly's family any closure would be…"

Pete didn't pull any punches. "It would suck," he agreed.

Mike interrupted. "Sheriff Dawking on the radio for you, sir."

Mac focused on his headset and the man on the radio the other end. "My name's MacGyver. I work for the Phoenix Foundation." He glanced to Pete as he said it and Pete couldn't resist a huge smile. "We're looking for a missing person and have discovered a vehicle in the river that's part of your jurisdiction."

"Your pilot just explained to me. How can I help? Apart from the obvious removal of the car…" Dawking sounded more interested than the cop back in Fair Oaks. That alone sounded promising.

"Have any bodies been discovered in the river here over the past twelve months?" MacGyver winced as he said it, but the question had to be asked.

Dawking was quick to respond. "No…" Then he paused, as if something had come to him. "At least, not any dead ones. We had a young woman dragged from the water last Christmas by a couple of locals. We couldn't find any I.D. on her and she was in a pretty bad way. She'd taken a nasty bump to her head."

Mac's stomach lurched. This wasn't what he'd been expecting, but dare he ask the inevitable? "What happened to her, Sheriff?"

The sound of the rotors whirling above his head seemed to drone on forever, even through the headset as he waited for a reply.

"We took her to the nearest hospital, but she fell into a coma. She's still there. Poor thing never did wake up." Dawking's voice suggested he was genuinely upset by the whole situation.

MacGyver on the other hand, felt like Christmas had come early. Where there was life, there was always hope.

And Molly Gregson was no ghost.

He focused back on the sheriff. "Sir we believe the woman you found is Molly Gregson from Fair Oaks. She went missing right about that time. Can we arrange with the hospital for her family to come down and identify her?"

Dawking sighed. "I'll notify the hospital. I just hope her family doesn't get their hopes up too much. Finding a loved one is alive after all this time, only to discover they're not likely to wake. Well, let's just say it's not what I'd want to hear at Christmas."

MacGyver agreed, but then Christmas was the time of miracles, and somehow he believed Molly had already managed one – how else had he been able to meet her on that lonely highway by the bridge?

Sutter Memorial Hospital

6.25p.m.

Finding Molly's family had been a simple task for someone with Pete's connections. What hadn't been so simple was how to tell them what had happened.

Ritchie Gregson had seemed to take the news that his wife might be alive as if it was all a dream he would wake from. He'd told the two kids, but they didn't really understand the implications.

They'd been thrilled by the Phoenix chopper ride to the hospital, but didn't seem to have a clue that they might be about to see their mom after a year of her being missing.

Maybe that was for the best.

MacGyver watched from the corridor as the doctor lead Ritchie and the kids in to see the woman they'd found – the woman he knew was Molly without the family identifying her.

Somehow, Molly had reached out to him from the other side, and although he had a scientific mind about most things, he couldn't shake the sensation that he'd once experienced something similar himself.

After the fall from the car park a couple of years back, he'd had an encounter with his dead parents and grandfather – and he could put that down to one of two things, lack of oxygen to his brain or, he'd really been "on the other side" for a short while.

It was an enigma he often wondered about, and he wasn't even sure which answer he preferred.

But what had happened here with Molly, well that seemed to suggest there was something to the whole "out of body" thing so many people insisted they'd experienced.

How Molly had manifested that into a full on meet and greet with him, and had possibly even caused his car to break down to save his life, he would probably never know.

Could it be real? Could someone's spirit actually do these things?

MacGyver's mind flicked back to another Christmas, and another puzzle – the Madonna statue that had vanished and then reappeared later. That too had no rational explanation, and yet, even now what had occurred brought a warm fuzzy feeling to his heart.

He only wished there could be a happy ending here too.

Voices from Molly's room made him look up. The family and doctor were coming back out. There was a moment of conversation, and then Ritchie approached Mac.

His face looked sickly, like he'd taken a punch to the stomach and was fighting the urge to gag.

"Mr. MacGyver?" Ritchie had moisture in his eyes, but somehow seemed to have avoided full on tears. "I hear I owe you my thanks for finding my wife?"

Mac wasn't sure what to say. Ritchie didn't know the full story, and it didn't seem right to tell him. And besides, he'd probably think MacGyver was mad. "I just linked all the dots together and they lead me here, I guess." He looked towards Molly's room. "Can I ask?"

Ritchie looked down at his feet, as if he couldn't look Mac in the eye. "The doctor says they don't think she'll ever wake up. Not now, after all this time. They think her brain was starved of oxygen for too long and that…well, that there's nothing left of Molly in there to fight."

MacGyver put a hand on Ritchie's arm and squeezed. "Don't give up on her. Don't ask me how I know, but there's a part of Molly still in there and she hasn't given up on you."

Ritchie looked up from the harsh white tiled floor. This time he brushed a real tear from his cheek with the back of his hand. "I won't," he promised. "I'm going to arrange to have her transferred back to Antelope Valley hospital first thing, so she can at least be closer to home for Christmas."

Mac nodded. How ironic that Molly would be in the same place as Sam over the holidays. "I might see you then. My son's in there."

Ritchie opened his mouth as if he was going to ask about Sam, but then he appeared to think better of it and scurried off to the two awaiting children that were waiting with a rather plump nurse.

MacGyver watched them go, wondering what Christmas would be like for them now.

Antelope Valley Hospital

Lancaster

California

The Next Day…Christmas Eve

Mac opened the limo door and helped Pete out of the car. It was early afternoon, and both men had considered a little last minute holiday shopping, before giving into the inevitable that they both had to face their sons and admit defeat.

MacGyver could have tried another out of town excursion, but somehow after what had happened with Molly it hadn't seemed right. Her words still echoed in his head as he ambled down the long hospital corridors.

"It's a long story, but the gift I originally bought him got destroyed yesterday. I need to replace it."

Molly seemed to think about it. "No you don't," she offered. "You don't need to buy your son anything at all. The greatest gift you could give him isn't a present; it's not a physical item at all. It's family. It's love."

Mac smiled to himself as he reached for the door handle to Sam's room and carefully ushered Pete inside.

Sam was waiting for them with a broad smile on his face – a face that finally had some color back in it. He was sitting up, and thankfully the monitor and I.V.'s were gone.

"I was starting to think you'd forgotten me," he teased. "Or found some pretty nurse…"

MacGyver raised a brow. "You mean you haven't found one for yourself?" He teased back.

Sam shrugged and then winced when the movement jarred his shoulder. "I was kinda hoping you'd find me one for Christmas…"

Mac opened his mouth and it stayed that way for a few seconds, like a fish out of water. "Ah…" This was it. He had to confess he hadn't actually replaced the presents that had burned with the plane. "About that…" He pulled out a chair and offered it to Pete who carefully sat down.

Then he retrieved one for himself.

Sam's expression said he knew what was coming. "It's okay, dad, I'm really not expecting anything. I know about what happened with Molly. That was way more important."

Mac wasn't so sure. If Molly was right about family and love, then shouldn't he have been thinking about Sam? "I should've found time to at least get you something."

"Dad, what I got you went up with the Boeing, and I haven't exactly been able to go get you anything else either." Sam's face grew a little more serious, and he looked down at his hands as if what he said next was difficult. "And besides, I finally have the gift I've wished for every year since mom died…" His gaze locked with Mac's. "I finally found you."

MacGyver felt a lump rise his throat and images of Kate, Sam's mom swirled through his mind. He hadn't been there for his son and he didn't deserve what Sam was saying. Even though, of course, he hadn't known Sam had existed until a few months ago.

I should have known, I should have found him sooner…

Sam knew exactly what his father was thinking and threw a mock punch with his good arm. "Hey, will you stop beating yourself up about things you can't change and start smiling. It's Christmas Eve, we should be celebrating! We're together, that's all we need."

Pete cleared his throat, gaining their attention. His cheeks looked quite rosy and he was smiling so broadly Mac had to wonder if he'd had a "seasonal" Scotch back at the hotel.

What Pete was grinning at wasn't anything to do with alcohol, however.

He'd brought his briefcase in with him, and Mac had thought nothing of it. Heck, Pete took the dang thing everywhere.

But this time, it held something just a little special.

Pete opened up the case and pulled out a document which he handed to Mac.

"Jeez, Pete, a contract, on Christmas Eve?" MacGyver read it anyway.

Basically, he was back at Phoenix freelance and totally on his own terms, and with a hefty salary and bonus increase to boot. There was also a proviso for Sam to do freelance photo work for them as and when he chose.

"Yeah, well I figured we'd get the boring stuff out of the way before the party…" Pete was still smiling.

"Aww, not another one of your Phoenix office gatherings? Pete you know I hate those things." MacGyver was pulling a face that said he wouldn't be swayed. "And besides, I'm not going to leave Sam. Not today, especially."

"There's no need to leave anyone. And this isn't about Phoenix." Pete closed his briefcase. "I got to thinking about all the stuff you said. You know, about what Molly had told you. So I've arranged a Christmas party here, at the hospital. Not just for us, but for any of the patients who can attend. And those that can't will get goodies sent to their rooms. Molly was right; people should be together this time of year."

"Just how did you pull that off?" Sam asked. He wasn't used to Pete's "miracle work" just yet.

"Well I get a Christmas bonus from Phoenix so I thought I'd share my good fortune."

MacGyver nodded, thinking that he'd been right earlier to envisage Pete in a Santa outfit, after all. And this time, he had the nerve to tell him so. "Y'know, you'd make a really great Santa? A nice red outfit and a cool white beard and you'd be good to go! And no need for extra padding," he chuckled.

Pete thought about it and didn't seem at all offended. "Maybe I would! Now c'mon, we have folks waiting downstairs." He pointed with his white cane, and somehow managed to aim in the right direction of the door to the adjoining room. "You should find a wheelchair in there for Sam. I already checked with his doctor and she said it would be fine if he didn't overdo it."

"You want to party?" Mac looked at Sam, wondering if he really was up to it.

He apparently was. "Just try and stop me!"

Mac smiled. Funny how quickly you could bounce back when you were Sam's age.

He dutifully grabbed the chair from the other room and helped Sam into it. It was obvious he was still pretty sore, and scared of moving his right arm too much in case it jarred his shoulder, but he was definitely already on the mend.

Mac maneuvered the chair through the door with Pete in tow and was about to ask which way to the festivities when he realized Ritchie Gregson and his two kids were at the bottom of the corridor.

Had Molly been moved that close to Sam? That had to be a very weird twist of fate.

As MacGyver approached, he noted Ritchie's excited tone and that there was a doctor with them, and felt his own heart begin to race. Something was happening, and he knew it.

Something good.

He leaned over Sam' shoulder and asked. "Can you give me a minute?"

Sam was watching the proceedings in the corridor anyway, but had no clue what it was all about. "Sure…just leave the blind guy and the cripple to fend for themselves," he joked.

"Something wrong?" Pete asked, not being able to see the melee in front of him.

"Something good, I think," MacGyver whispered as he fixed the brake on Sam's chair and approached Ritchie.

Ritchie spotted Mac and couldn't contain his joy. "It's Molly! She's awake! I don't understand it…they said…"

MacGyver didn't have any words to answer.

Maybe he'd seen a Christmas miracle before with the Madonna, but not like this.

And yet, deep in his heart, he'd expected it.

The doctor was trying to be more reserved. "Mr. Gregson, you must understand Molly has a way to go yet."

Ritchie wasn't taking in the details. "Can we see her?" He was almost bouncing of the walls with excitement.

"Not yet Mr. Gregson, your wife is…disorientated. It happens a lot with coma patients who've been asleep for such a long time. She's talking but…not making much sense yet."

Ritchie didn't care. "She can say anything, just to hear her voice…to see her…"

The doctor tried to clarify. "She's talking about being in a dark place for a very long time, and that she's been brought home by a blonde gent in a Jeep. It sounds very specific, very strange, but it's really her subconscious trying to justify what's happened. The dark place is, of course the coma, and her fictitious rescuer is a symbol of her waking and being freed from that coma."

Pete tugged on Mac's sleeve. "That incredible. That's you she's babbling about, isn't it?" He grew somber. "But how? You didn't even go out there in your Jeep. It's only just gone into the shop for repair."

MacGyver smiled. "I guess there really are some things we can't explain. But one thing I do know – Molly was right. Christmas isn't about presents, it's about family and about being together."

Sam flicked off the brake and pushed his chair forwards to be level with Pete and his dad. "From experience, I'll second that."

Mac ran a hand through Sam's hair, ruffling it playfully like he was still a kid. Maybe he always would be in Mac's eyes. Then he looked back to Ritchie and the kids as they pushed their way into Molly's room, despite the doctor's protests.

"I don't know how, and I guess I never will, but Molly saved me from that collapsed bridge, and somehow I managed to find her in return. I guess now we can both be with the ones we love over Christmas."

"So what say we make the most of it?" It was Pete, and he appeared to be itching to get downstairs. "You know, if you hurry, you might even get me to stick on a Santa outfit for the kids in this place."

MacGyver's eyes widened. "Now that," he chuckled. "Is something I would definitely pay money to charity to see." He grabbed Sam's wheelchair and began to push just a little faster than before, in case Pete changed his mind.

As he passed Molly's room, he couldn't resist slowing and taking a peek.

Despite what the doctor had said, Molly was sitting up, and her gaze moved to the door as if she somehow knew he would be there.

For a second, their eyes met and locked in some unspoken moment of recognition and understanding.

Molly smiled as if they already knew one another and silently mouthed the words "Thank you."

Then the connection between them was gone, and Molly returned to hugging her children.

Mac, picked up speed again, determined to see Pete in a bright red outfit. And as he pushed, he couldn't help thinking he finally understood about the greatest gift anyone could give.

The End