The milk carton was empty again.

It was living alone all those years. He still hadn't figured out buying in quantities larger than what he could personally consume before rot set in.

MacGyver leaned against the open fridge door and eased his healing arm in its sling. The break had been a particularly bad one, but soon the cast would be off and he wouldn't have to wince every time he saw how badly Penny had misspelled his name.

And then they could hit the road. For now, he smiled at the sleeping lump on the couch.

"Milk run, Sam."