Ah! Hello! I wrote this instead of revising for my English Literature exam, and was infinitely more fun! Apologies if this sucks, and also for any errors! I don't own the Newsroom!
Something about Mac is different; she hasn't got a new haircut or changed her wardrobe, but something is definitely different.
She's… happier.
He catches her grinning to herself for no apparent reason a lot recently, and he's found himself staring at her or gazing at her or generally just looking at her a lot too, more than is required between two co-workers, kind of like the way Jim stares in an unsubtle manner at Maggie - he's been noticing that a lot too, ever since Mac pointed it out to him, and how he misses the days when personal lives were personal lives in his newsroom.
Of course he's glad she's happy, but it's not him that's making her smile like that, and there's a small twinge inside of him that makes him wish it was; and he's secretly hoping that her stint in 'jail' would last a little longer, because try as he might, he's still a little caught up over her.
Will's certain that it's someone making her feel that way, she's barely stayed five minutes after the show this week, and she leaves looking, in his opinion, absolutely stunning, without a goodbye to anyone except perhaps Jim.
His suspicions are confirmed when he spots an unfamiliar face leaning on one of the desks, dressed too sharply to work in an office, a far too confident smile on his face for Will's taste and looks utterly at ease. He's chatting animatedly to Tess, before turning all his attention to Mac who half runs out her office towards him before he presses a kiss to her cheek.
It's not just him who's noticed the stranger, Jim sends a brief wave the man's way and a receives a smile and a nod of his head in return. Far to affable for Will's taste but, then again, he does hold a certain amount of bias.
"Woah. Who's that talking to Mac?" Will jumps an inch or two in the air, dragged from his more than slightly bitter thoughts.
"Fuck, Sloan!"
"Sorry." she replies, and he's not quite sure if she means it.
She pauses for a moment. "So, who is that talking to Mac? He's kinda hot…" Will frowns. "Sorry." She doesn't see the slightly pained expression on Will's face; social ineption in full swing.
"I don't know," He replies after a while. "I hoped you might."
"No, sorry. She hasn't mentioned any mystery men to me, despite my prodding." She replies, and the conversation lulls.
The two stand in silence, trying to catch snippets of the conversation between Mac and her mystery date.
"Is he British? That's even hotter." She whispers, before realising that she's not helping. "Sorry."
The two watch as Mac takes the stranger's hand in hers and leads him towards the elevators until they're no longer in sight.
"G'night, Will." Sloan says, and Will gives a brief nod in response, deciding that there's a lonely night at home including a joint and a large, no, a very large glass of whiskey waiting for him.
He sighs as he settles into his sofa with Camelot playing on the screen before him; he's not paying attention in the slightest. This is how it's meant to be, she's meant to find someone to have a meaningful relationship with and so is he, and they're meant to move on and continue living their lives separately. There's a small part of him though that doesn't agree (a part larger than he'd like to admit), that quite liked the idea of her keeping herself 'in jail', that he'd forgive her then release her from the so called jail, and that she'd fall into his arms once again. Only now he realises what a silly idea it was. She's gorgeous and young (at least younger than him) and single in New York City, it's not a far fetched idea that she'd find someone new to make her happy.
He takes a large swig of the amber liquid in his glass an winces slightly at the taste, but he doesn't care, at the moment it hurts less than his heart and it's a welcome distraction.
He relaxes further into the sofa, feet propped up on the coffee table, thinking of his Guinevere.
She looks tired but happy the following morning; better than he does with his hangover, and she smiles gratefully when his places a coffee cup on her desk. She doesn't question his motives with the surprising action, merely accepts it and asks how his evening went.
Her mood remains bright throughout the day, and he wonders how serious the relationship is between her and Lancelot is. He supposes he has no right to think like that, her date's not stealing his MacKenzie away from him (despite what his heart tells him), and he almost laughs internally at his ability to compare everything to a musical, or a piece of literature.
He's there again at nine pm sharp, waiting for her, and Will sees his chance; MacKenzie is still in the control room, and Will feels some irrational need to makes sure that his MacKenzie is looked after. He knows she's probably hit him, for viewing her as a possession, but the need remains anyway.
As she emerges from the door, she can see Will move towards Sam and she hadn't really expected Will to notice him. She half runs towards the two, trying to cut Will off. She trips a few steps away - she really sucks at running, and stumbles between the two men, both men making attempt to catch her and she ends up sandwiched between the two. This is definitely not what she wanted to happen.
"Will! Great show!" She says as she pries herself from their grasp and takes a step back.
"Thanks." He replies and continues to size up the man in front of him.
Sam looks a little uncomfortable and she takes pity on him and tries to make the situation easier on them all.
"Will, this is Sam. Sammy, this is Will McAvoy." Will's unimpressed by the nickname, and even less so by the sly look 'Sammy' sends Mac, as if the two shared a private joke that was centred around himself.
"Will McAvoy? Well, it's nice to meet you, Mr. McAvoy." Sam says, his voice more refined than Will's own, like Neal's or Mac's, softer yet still holds a certain amount of power that is unattainable by any other accent, like he knows something that Will does not. Will adores Mac's and has a certain amount of respect for Neal's, but Sam's merely sounds smug, but perhaps Will's biased.
Sam holds out a hand for Will to shake and Will does so, exerting more gusto into the shake than he probably should. 'Alpha male' shit, or something like that.
"Pleasure. So, Sammy, what do you do?" Will asks in a nonchalant manner, trying to keep his jealously under wraps. Mac cringes.
"I'm a politician, nothing too big, but hopefully I'll do more in the future." Sam replies politely. "Good show, brilliant section on the run up to the election."
"Thanks. Hey, you don't mind if I borrow Mac for a minute, do you?"
Mac offers and apologetic smile. "I'll go grab my coat."
"I'll wait here then, Kenz."
Will frowns at the use of her nickname, a little too personal for his liking. He places a hand on the small of her back and leads her to her office, Closing the door behind them.
"Seriously, Will, what are you doing?" She whispers infuriated at him.
"I'm not doing anything, Kenz." He replies with a shrug.
"Your not allowed to be jealous, especially after your parade of women; besides there's absolutely no reason to be!"
He only half pays attention, he loves it when she gets riled up, her accent rises and falls in such a way that arguing with her is a pleasure; they used to joke that it was a sign of their passion during the time in which they were together, and there's a small tug at his heart whenever they do, whether it's over the broadcast or little jibes about before. "I'm not jealous, Kenz."
"Oh my god, will you quit with the nickname, Billy? I'm not keeping myself in jail anymore, and that's irrelevant to the situation anyway!" She flings her coat about with her crazy arm movements, and he can't help but think how adorable she looks. "And you are most certainly jealous!" She adds as an end note, jabbing a finger in his direction.
"Don't call me Billy!" He half shouts, and adds in a mock stereotypical English accent "And I'm most certainly not jealous!"
She half scowls in response. "You most certainly are. Look I'm going to be late for dinner with Sam." She makes a break for the door, but her catches her by the arm in a light grasp and refuses to let go.
"Sam can wait."
"No, Will, Sam can't." Mac sighs. "Look, can we please just talk about this later? I haven't seen my family in a long time, and I really just want to go have dinner with my brother and his wife and his adorable little daughters who I've barely seen since they were born and then we can talk."
Will's grip relaxes to practically non-existent and colour rushes to his cheeks.
"Brother."
"Hmm." Mac, smiles with a smirk. "Brother."
"Not boyfriend."
"Ew, no." She laughs, a light musical laugh that he adores so much. "Besides," she whispers, "In jail or not, I'm not about to move on any time soon. I guess I'm still a little bit too in love with you."
The two fall into silence, until Sam knocks on her door, phone in hand.
"Kenz, we're going to be late. Emily's wondering where we are." He can see the similarities now, since he's looking for them. Dark brown eyes they get from their father - her mothers are a dark green; higher cheekbones than most; and pale skin that she used to joke refused to tan.
Mac offers Will a nervous, shy smile, and bites her lip in a way that makes him want to kiss her, despite her brother standing in the room.
"We need to talk, though." Will says softly.
"We will. Come 'round mine at eleven."
He realises that she's still half pressed up against the wall, his hand resting on her upper arm. He releases her with a small smile. He's feeling brave, and brushes his lips against her cheek.
"Eleven." He confirms.
Her brother leads her out the door, and he can hear her brother mumble something and a faint "Fuck off" followed by a laugh as she walks away.
Eleven pm cannot come soon enough.
I hope you liked out, and it wasn't too predictable, and reviews would be greatly appreciated!
A quick note about my other story 'The Build Up': I did hope to upload more of it this month, but after the events of yesterday (14/12/12) I feel it might be a little insensitive, and so maybe more in the new year. RIP to the 27 killed in Newtown, CT.