Author's Notes: Will Woodward ever be found? Can Will stop messing up his "apologies"? Can these two ever finish a meal or a conversation without arguing or losing a dog? Let's see…

Will knew he was in trouble when Mackenzie spoke barely a word to him throughout the broadcast. He had seen her rush through the newsroom with only minutes to spare until the show, and then heard her terse "thirty seconds Will" in his ear just before they went on the air. Had she really spent nearly five hours searching for the dog?

The minute the red light stopped flashing at the end of the show, he tore off his microphone and dashed for the control room.

"Where is she?!" he shouted frantically as he threw open the door. Jim merely pointed toward the hallway leading to her office. Once he reached it, the room was already dark, and there was no sign of Mackenzie or her belongings.

"Damn it" he muttered to himself. He rushed to his own office to change and returned to the bullpen.

"I know I have no right to ask any of you to help me out on a personal errand after hours, but this is for Mackenzie, and I know how you all feel about her and well…" Will stammered to the entire staff. Mercifully, Sloan cut him off before he could fumble for any more words.

"You just said the magic word Will…Mackenzie. What do you need?" she asked. The rest of the staff nodded in agreement.

"That dog you've seen me with the last week or so? That was our dog. Well, Mackenzie's dog, actually. I bought him for her years ago. And this afternoon, while we were with him in the park, he ran off. Mac's really heartbroken over it. I'm sure she'd appreciate it if you could all spend an hour or so searching for the mutt" he pleaded.

Will watched, more than a little touched, as they all piled into the elevators and headed across the street.

"See, they all know what you two are taking a fucking ice-age to figure out" Lonny chuckled, pushing Will toward the lobby.

"And what's that, fifth-round draft pick?" Will asked, sarcastically.

"That you and Mackenzie are already family. And family supports each other…family forgives. Give it a shot sometime McAvoy."

Will just stood there, stunned, and watched as his 'family' gathered around the sad looking woman sitting on the park bench. They all walked past her, after giving her shoulder a little squeeze, and set off across the grass in search of Woody.

"You did this?" she asked, nodding toward all the staffers, when he sat down next to her.

"No, you did this Mac. They adore you…all I had to do was mention your name and they were up for anything. Including looking for our dog at ten o'clock on a work night" Will said softly.

"Our dog?"she asked meekly.

"Of course. He always was…you were just missing for a while. Now, he's missing…but we'll get him back."

"And then what?" she asked, grabbing his hand.

"And then…whatever comes next. Maybe we get a fish named Deep Throat" he said, kissing her on the cheek. She giggled.

"That's a terrible name for a fish Will! If we're getting a fish his name must be Ben Bradlee" she told him mock-serious.

"Fine, the fish will be named Ben Bradlee. You don't think Bernstein will eat him, do you?" Will asked.

"No, of course not. Bernstein is a very peaceful cat. He hasn't tried to kill Woodward yet has he?"

"True. Now let's go find our dog and go home" he replied, pulling her up off the park bench and joining the search for Woodward.

After more than an hour of shouting and screeching their way through the park, Will and Mackenzie sadly admitted defeat, and sent the staff on their way. Will stuffed a couple of hundred dollar bills into Jim's pocket and told him to take everyone out for drinks.

"I'm sorry Kenz" he whispered into her hair, on the drive over to the brownstone.

"It's not your fault."

"Yes it is. If we hadn't been shouting at each other maybe he wouldn't have taken off."

"Well then, it's both our faults Will. I was doing just as much shouting as you were. We always did get a little too caught up in our arguments."

"Maybe that's something we need to work on" he told her.

"Yeah, maybe it is. They usually ended well though" she replied, poking him in the side.

"We never had trouble making up" he agreed, kissing her temple.

"Except for that last time" she said sadly, just as they pulled up at her house. They both climbed out and Mackenzie unlocked the front door.

"I'm sorry" Will said suddenly.

"Will, stop apologizing for losing the dog. It's nobody's fault" she told him, hanging her coat on the rack just inside the door.

"That's not what I'm apologizing for. I'm sorry that we didn't get to make up…that last time" he told her.

"Yeah well, that 'last time' was hardly a fight over who forgot to add milk to the grocery list or pay the phone bill" she replied sadly.

"No, you're right, it wasn't. But screaming at you to get out of the house and then refusing to speak to you was never going to solve the problem either. And that was my fault Mackenzie. I'm sorry that I didn't even try to put us back together."

She nodded through her tears. "Ok" she whispered.

"Come here" he begged, pulling her into his arms.

"Can we start over?" he asked. She simply nodded against his chest.

"I wasn't" she mumbled into his jacket.

"What?" he asked, thoroughly confused.

"The last thing you shouted at me that night was what the hell were you thinking?!" she said, pulling away and looking him in the eyes. "I wasn't thinking Will. It's no excuse, but it's my answer. Brian was easy and careless and inconsequential…and everything you weren't. You made me think and question and plan for a life I had never imagined and it scared the shit out of me. We had a dog for fuck's sake! And an apartment, and a brownstone, and a car, and this whole joint life that I was absolutely sure I never wanted and I didn't know what the hell to do with it…until it was too late. So yes, I really didn't realize what I had until it was gone. I really didn't know I was in love with you until I slept with Brian."

He stood back and leaned against the wall of the hallway…then he slid down the wall and landed on his ass with his legs sprawled out before him.

"Will?" she asked, a little concerned. She knelt down in front of him and tilted his head up to look at her.

"Ok" he said.

"Ok, what?" she asked.

"Ok, now we move on. I promised you earlier, in the park, that we would discuss this and move on. I got my question answered. That's all I need" he told her, vowing to himself that it was true. She climbed into his lap and clung to him tightly, as they both let years of unshed tears flow between them.

"Meow" they heard a few minutes later. "MEOW!" the cat bellowed again. Then they heard scratching. They both stood and headed for the kitchen where Bernstein was walking back and forth in front of the garden door and screeching loudly. Then they heard the scratching again and they both ran for the door, unlocking it and throwing it open. Woodward ran into the kitchen and set off after Bernstein.

Will and Mackenzie burst out laughing and went in search of the pair. They found Woody lying on Mackenzie's bed with Bernie sniffing him delicately. The cat circled a few times, and then settled in right next to the dog, and began purring.

"I guess they missed each other?" Will said, as he and Mackenzie stood in the doorway watching and wiping the tears from their eyes.

"I guess so. Maybe there's hope for us all?" she asked, wrapping her arms around his torso and settling her head against his shoulder.

"Yeah, I think there is" he said firmly.

More Notes: One more chapter to go! But, given a few of the comments I've received, I feel I should have put some sort of disclaimer on this story before I started. If you are not American, or are under the age of 25 or so (God, I feel old writing this!), I suppose Woodward and Bernstein might not be terribly familiar names to you. If you're still reading this, I would guess you have looked it up by now. If I have confused you even more in this chapter, let me clear a few things up. Woodward and Bernstein are the Washington Post reporters who broke the Watergate Scandal that led to President Nixon resigning. Ben Bradlee was the Executive Editor of the Post at the time. Deep Throat was the name of Woodward's anonymous source (who Woodward named in honor of a long-ago porn movie, oddly enough) and who was eventually revealed to be an FBI official named Mark Felt. Ok, history lesson over. Go watch more Newsroom…and stay tuned for the final chapter of this story tomorrow. Thanks for reading!