Just a little one-shot as I try and dip my toe in this fandom to deal with my unrelenting Newsroom feelings. Can't say it didn't come about from listening to the song of the same name.

Fluff and nonsense. Enjoy.

No Envy No Fear

They're half naked and standing three feet from his bed when he reaches a hand up to thread it through her hair and she flinches. It's barely a flicker on her face, but it's there, and he notices it because he can't stop studying her; has been since they got home at stupid-o'clock and she made it clear she would be staying with him all night.

A startling realisation crashes over him at that point, which drops his stomach; she's afraid of him. Not that he'd hit her or anything so barbaric, he would never hit her in a million years and she knows why and it's just a fact of nature that he is incapable of raising a hand to a woman. Being afraid of anybody is something that does not go well with the name Mackenzie McHale. Even at their worst, in their darkest days, she was not afraid of him as a professional; she kicks his ass from behind a headset on a nightly basis. Mac is nobody's doormat and he loves her for that.

But here, now, in the privacy of his bedroom and the intimacy of being so physically exposed, he realises that he has created an environment around himself whereby she walks on eggshells, just waiting for the other shoe to drop – for him to come in waving a ring in her face, or perhaps now taking it away again. It hits him hard that the trust that always lived between them has crumbled a little, and as much as she loves him and has put her heart in his hands, a part of her is still watching to see if he'll crush it.

She must realise what he's thinking because she immediately looks sorry. He never could hide his feelings from her, and perhaps he looks horrified at himself because she steps forward and places a hand on his bare chest, right above his heart.

"It's going to take time, Billy" she says. He knows she's right.

"How much time?" he asks. One hand holds her palm to his chest and the other lands on her hip. This time she doesn't flinch. "And please don't say twenty-eight months"

She cracks him the smallest of smiles – one that still crinkles the corners of her eyes, and oh how he loves seeing that again up close – before she leans up on tip toes and kisses him, firmly and with purpose.

"I promise you it won't take that long" she says, looking him in the eye. He managed to sneak his arm around her back in the process, and he's not sure she's noticed yet, but he won't be letting go. "But we've got the rest of our lives to work it out. And it's only going to get better from now on"

He nods and kisses her again, satisfied with that answer.

They're a work-in-progress; they always have been. At least this time he's jumping in with eyes wide open. She was right when she said he loved her from the first date. He hadn't been prepared for what that meant – hadn't considered that she wasn't on the same page until she'd been standing in front of him crying, begging for forgiveness as she confessed her sins. He had allowed love to blind him, and it almost ruined him. It certainly almost ruined any chance of them standing here, in this moment, had it not been for Mac's courage in coming back and a last-minute kick in his own ass.

But this time there is too much baggage between them for either of them to be blind. Between hating her and loving her he thinks he's made his every feeling known – bared his soul in every conceivable way. And he's pretty sure that she has too. They've had a lot of conversations over the last three years that should have happened that night in his apartment when he walked out on a hysterical Mackenzie and told her not to be there when he came back. There has been a lot of water under the bridge, and really who else are they going to marry; no one else will ever come close to fitting into this the way Mac does.

"Can't get better than you" he says, whisper quiet and soppy as hell, but after that proposal he doesn't think he can sound any more desperate, so whatever.

"Well that's a comfort, because you're stuck with me now, buddy. No take-backs"

He grins, because he can feel her diamond digging into his palm where it rests on his chest still. He turns his hand over and holds hers, then brings her fingers to his lips and kisses them.

"Good" he says.

And then she's leaning into him again for another sloppy kiss; tired and drained and preparing for tomorrow's fight, but Will honestly doesn't give a fuck because they are here. They are here, together, and this is real, and it's damn near perfect. And he keeps an eye on her the rest of the night as they try and remember the steps they were so good at so very long ago.

And she doesn't flinch again.