A/N: Firstly, to all the gorgeous people who have been reviewing my other two stories. Bless you all! You guys are awesome! Here is some promised more!

This was written for a prompt over at The Newsoom Ficathon on LJ. It's awesome, if you haven't already, you should check it out.

Prompt: Mac wakes Will up on his birthday


It's well past midnight and Will has slipped into dreams; floating somewhere between a small island in the pacific and an anonymous pair of legs that slide up to reveal – well,

then the phone rings and he'll never know.

He startles awake and with a groan that would rival the undead, flips his still lagging body over to face his bedside table. His phone is illuminated in the dark, a piercing, bright light that has him blinking, and through the hazy fog of half sleep he can just make out Mackenzie's name on the id.

He considers ignoring it. Considers rolling back over and throwing the covers over his head and perhaps calling her back sometime in the morning – its Friday, no, Saturday morning!

She might own him for an hour every weekday but the weekends are his own and she's not allowed to infringe.

He's halfway back to sleep already, but the phone won't stop ringing and really, there might be something wrong. Mackenzie can be annoyingly persistent but even she understands basic principles like sleeping on a Saturday.

He leans over with a huff and picks up his phone, barking an indiscernible greeting into the speaker.

Mackenzie's voice, when she answers, is soft; breathy – like she wasn't actually expecting him to pick up. "Will?"

"Yes."

"You're there," she says, a little surprised.

"So it would seem. You did ring my phone Mackenzie," he mutters, rolling onto his back and pressing a finger to his forehead. He squeezes the bridge of his nose and winces when his eyes start to water. It's much too early in the morning to be navigating her world – and the water and the sand in his dream had been so inviting, not to mention those legs...

"Is there a reason you're calling me?" he grumbles, and she gives this little gasp, like she's only just realized she has to respond, that has Will rolling his eyes but unable to quell the burst of fondness blooming in his chest.

It's a constant problem around Mackenzie – his deep-seated betrayal and the general annoyance of her bubbly existence, coupled with an infused joy that tingles through him when ever she smiles.

Slowly Will's eyes are adjusting to the dark and revealing caverns of shadows across his walls and windows. He locks his eyes on the corner of his blinds and awaits what ever explanation she has coming.

"I just wanted to say," she begins, and her voice sounds small, but strong, down the speaker, "that we should perhaps focus more time on Sloan's segment this week. She's been pushing me for a while now to let her explain the...inner workings of things that I don't really understand...but I'm pretty sure she's almost always right about them."

She pauses awkwardly and Will can imagine her screwing her forehead up at her own words. Economics has never meshed well with her loquacious manner. She tends to just wave her hands around and gesture for Will or Sloan to continue.

He can hear her suck in a quiet breath as they pause, and Will wishes he knew what on earth she was thinking. Mackenzie calling him at odd hours of the morning isn't exactly foreign, but it's something he's been attempting to weed out of their relationship for months, ever since his bout with insomnia was dealt with and he started valuing his relationship with his pillow again.

"Mackenzie," he groans, pinching the creases across his forehead in an attempt to stop his voice catching with annoyance. "Couldn't we discuss this on Monday?" he sighs, and he would swear that he can hear her falter.

"Yes, of course," she stutters, and Will feels like a bit of an ass.

She's been doing that to him more often lately – making him feel guilty when he glares at her, or shuts her off, or makes snide remarks. Perhaps it's fair – lord knows she's taken more shit from him than anyone else in history.

"I think it's a good idea," he concedes, and the guilt abates slightly.

There's still an awkward pause over the phone, almost like she wants to say more, and so Will shuffles to his side to peer at the clock whilst she dallies. It's nearing one in the morning and it's Saturday, meaning he should probably order some groceries and get his laundry sorted. Mackenzie is still procrastinating in his ear, and so Will lets his mind drift to the month ahead. He has a charity function to attend sometime next week, but he can't quite remember what day it is. He starts counting the dates backwards, and it is whilst he's on Sunday, that he realizes what the current date is and suddenly the silence in his ear makes sense.

He may or may not let out a slight grunt of recognition, and Mackenzie's breath catches like she knows he's figured her out.

"It's late Mackenzie," he reminds her, but his voice is soft and warm.

He thinks she's probably nodding in agreement and then she lets out a little laugh, "Yes, I know. I'm sorry."

He hates hearing her say sorry.

"Well, then – goodnight," he murmurs.

The phone in his ear remains silent and then Mackenzie is returning the wish. "Goodnight Will," she sighs, and he goes to hang up.

"Wait!"

He pauses, phone held tight to his ear.

"Happy Birthday Billy," she says.

Will feels that strange burst of warmth spread from his heart down to the tips of his fingers, tingling through his veins and igniting his blood and making his stomach knot a little as she giggles.

She hangs up without further comment and Will lets the phone slide from his grasp, down his cheek. The light blinks off and the room returns to darkness, only the shifting shadows behind his blinds giving life to the night outside.

In the morning he will field calls from his siblings, and a few selected friends might drop him a message. His twitter page will be flooded with fans and those who equally despise him.

But at one in the morning, in the first hour of his birthday, with Mackenzie's soft voice calling him Billy in his ear; Will lets himself think about birthday wishes, and then, he smiles.