Just been pointed out to me that I posted this on the wrong fanfic. Many many apologies for the confusion. I have the hangover from hell. Thank you to Alma76 for the heads up :)
Russian Roulette: An epilogue…of sorts. The story of Will. Sorry Mac POV lovers.
This was another suggestion from Lilacmermaid. I also just want to thank everyone for the AMAZING response to this fic. Please know that every time I got a review from one of you the most massive idiot grin spread across my face because you were all so lovely and enjoyed it! Thanks for taking the time to say so – really made my day!
Also want to give a quick shout out to Erin. I can't reply to you because you're reviewing as a guest, but you sound like you haven't had Chinese take-out. I'm struggling with that. Do it. NOW! :p
Will lay in bed the next night with Mackenzie spooned in front of him. They hadn't done it yet – they were in her parents' house the night after their second First Date; but neither of them had any problem with sleeping together. The night before they had ended up tipsily at Mac's flat after he had walked her home (again) and she'd silently pulled him into her bedroom and slipped her shoes off, before falling flat on the bed and curling up. He'd taken the hint, and had snuggled down beside her, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist so that he could pull her against his chest and press a gentle kiss right below her jawbone under her ear. It was the best night's sleep he'd had in years.
Looking down at her now, he couldn't help the smile that spread across his face, and gently ran his fingers through her hair as she slept peacefully beside him.
He couldn't believe that he was here, with her beside him, after a long day with her – their – family. When Charlie had came into his office, looking anxious and wringing his hands two weeks ago, he had never imagined that in such a short space of time he'd be spending Thanksgiving with his fiancé and her family.
It was, to throw out a cliché, too good to be true. Yet it had definitely happened.
Two weeks earlier…
They'd just finished the final rundown, and Will was licking his wounds in his office after he and Mackenzie had had a fairly heated disagreement in front of everyone about a segment on the upcoming republican primary debate. Mac wanted to take one of the congressmen to town, but Will – as always – wanted to focus all his energy on the Tea Party candidates.
He knew that Mac had a valid point about not just paying attention to the fringes – people were probably getting the message by now that he really didn't like the Tea Party; but for some reason that he couldn't give, he had fought her on it anyway. And he knew that he'd caused her stress that she didn't need, and since it was such a stupid, trivial argument in the first place, she was probably feeling confused and hurt because of it…
Habib had said just the day before that this, although not very pleasant for Mackenzie, was a sign that Will was ready to forgive her. He was just instinctually battling the point because he'd been convinced of it for so long.
But as of ten minutes ago, he knew that Habib had been wrong. When he saw the hurt and, well…exhausted look on her face, he knew then he had forgiven her. What was he even thinking? He'd forgiven her the day he'd realised that she'd never got the voicemail.
He'd seen the knowing look Charlie had on his face as he'd been telling Mac about it from his hospital bed. The smug son of a bitch had known then and had been sending him annoying unsubtle looks for the last three months. As a result of this he was unsurprised when Charlie shuffled into his office after the rundown.
He had been there to witness the whole thing, and Will couldn't help the knee-jerk shame that panged through his heart as he saw his friend and mentor come to reprimand him over his behaviour towards Mac.
"Charlie, I know I was out of line." He said softly before the older man had even had a chance to speak. Turning away from the window so that he could see Charlie properly, he caught Charlie's slight surprise, and the guilt seemed to weigh him down further still. "I don't know why, really; I just –"
"Will." He said sharply, and Will was now the one surprised – surprised at the uncertain, anxious expression that had appeared on Charlie's face. He clammed up, waiting for him to speak again. "I'm going to stop you there, because to be brutally frank with you, I'm sick of this. It's stupid."
Will's brow furrowed. He thought he knew what Charlie was talking about, but he wasn't a hundred per cent sure, and he didn't want to say anything in case they were on completely different pages. Charlie huffed impatiently.
"Come on. You know I'm talking about Mackenzie. About the way you treat her. I get that she broke your heart and that you need to time to get over it; but it's been over four fucking years Will. And she's been sorry since the day she got back – since before that, if you really want to know. At least one of us replied to her emails!"
It was like Charlie was verbally slapping him. He could feel the force of his words hit him like a physical blow. But he knew he deserved most of them. Was this how Mackenzie had felt for the last eighteen months whenever he'd ripped her one?
"You've treated her like shit. Especially for the first few months you didn't even seem to give her an ounce of credit for wearing her sincerity on her sleeve for everyone to see, but now…
"What did the voicemail say Will?"
Will's eyes bulged. He really hadn't been expecting Charlie to ask that. To be perfectly honest, he didn't think Charlie had a right to know. Charlie seemed to read the argument behind his eyes before he made it, and he held up a hand to stop him before he could even open his mouth.
"Don't bother. I'm not Mackenzie, Will, and I won't tell her what it says. You're going to do that. And I know you think that I have no right to know, but once I tell you what I'm about to – which Mackenzie will probably kill me for – I'll think you'll agree that I do."
Now Will was lost. He had absolutely no idea what Charlie was going to say. And it didn't sound good.
"Do you remember it?" He nodded numbly. "All of it?"
"Yeah." He didn't know when his throat had gotten so dry and raspy, but he suddenly felt incredibly nervous. Charlie didn't say anything, just looked at him pointedly.
Giving into the fact that Charlie wasn't going to let him leave this room (even to go on air, he suspected) until he confessed, he slumped back against his desk, and looked bashfully up at the older man.
"It said… 'Listen, I swear I'm not saying this because I'm high. If the answer is no, then just do me a favour and don't call me back or don't bring it up or anything But I have to tell you – I mean, after tonight I really want to tell you – that I've never stopped loving you Mac. Never -"
He paused, as he caught Charlie's expression, before swallowing his pride and forcing himself to finish the message.
"…how could I? You are The One. Its unbearable having you so close but not with me. I don't want it to feel like this – to be like this anymore. I love you, Mackenzie. I'll always love you. And I want to find a way to make this work…I hope you – I – just – please call me back if you feel the same."
There was complete silence after he finished his announcement, as Charlie apparently waited to be sure that that was the end. Will looked pleadingly, helplessly at him for a minute or so before the man, a sad look etched onto his face, crossed the office and took the seat in front of him.
"Do you remember why you particularly wanted to tell her that night?"
Will blinked at him, confused. "I – I don't think there was a particular reason. It was an emotional night. The party, and then the drugs and the meds, and then just – we got Bin Laden! And then she let me go on the air when we were in my office, even though she knew – God, I don't know Charlie, it just –"
"Well I think I do." He interjected pointedly. Will shut up immediately, completely blindsided.
"What do you mean?" Charlie looked at him hesitantly, as though unsure he should really be saying anything at all. "Charlie? What do you mean? All I remember – clearly, anyway – about that night was the broadcast. And a few bits of Mac and I in here, and then a couple of flashes of the bar, but –"
"You don't remember leaving?"
"No." Will said slowly, wondering where the hell this was going. Charlie sighed, taking out his handkerchief and running it over his face.
"You don't remember saying goodbye to Mackenzie?"
"Charlie what did I do?" He said swiftly, now very worried. He had a terrible habit of hurting Mac, and he was fairly sure that he can only have said something even more ridiculous to her when he was under the influence – or a few influences, really. But then…did that necessarily add up? After all, he knew he had confessed his undying love for her whilst high. A horrible idea crept into his mind and he watched Charlie warily.
"She told me not to say anything. She knew you wouldn't remember."
"Charlie, you have to tell me right now –"
"Damnit Will, you kissed her! Right at the door, right in front of Lonny - and I was heading over to say goodbye, so I saw everything." Will saw him look up to see his expression – a mixture of shock and horror. "And according to her, it wasn't the first time either. You've kissed her before."
"She never said anything to me." Will said hollowly.
"Well of course she wouldn't!" Charlie snapped impatiently, springing to his feet once more. "She was convinced that if she pushed you even slightly in the wrong direction then any hope of reconciliation was gone. You know that she'd been putting up with hell from you, but even you didn't realise how much. Do you know what drunken stunts like that must be doing to her, William?"
He knew exactly what they would be doing to Mackenzie. And he felt his eyes burning.
"Now," Charlie spun back around to face him and stopped pacing. "For reasons passing understanding, despite all of this, she's still hanging around waiting for you."
Charlie stopped speaking as he caught the expression on Will's face, and finally after a moment, his expression softened. Mackenzie had been right about Will being upset if he found out. His face at that moment was a testament to that. But he was convinced that this would knock some sense into the Anchor. And God knows these two needed that right now more than they needed to tread on eggshells around each other.
"Sort this out Will. She won't wait forever – however much she might want to. She human – there's only so much she can take." He twitched for a minute, as it he wanted to reach out and grasp Will's shoulder, or perhaps just give him a good whack round the ear. But he didn't He bounced on the balls of his feet for a moment, before nodding curtly – and seemingly to himself – before pushing himself out the door and leaving Will alone with his thoughts.
The first into his head was that he had kissed Mackenzie – apparently more than once – and had absolutely no memory of it. How was that possible? Surely – surely he would remember it?
Memories of Mackenzie's mouth moulded to various parts of his body had always been rather vivid in his mind. In fact, so vivid that in the first months of their separation, seeing flashes of her – of them – behind his eyes was one of the most painful parts of the break-up. It was like flesh memories, or maybe having a phantom limb.
And…he was sad that he couldn't remember. Because he wanted to. He wanted to feel her lips on his, her pressed into him.
In the last couple of months, there had been moments when his wish had nearly come true – apparently a few more than he was aware of; most notably after the RINO broadcast. God he had wanted to kiss her then. He just hadn't been prepared to deal with what that would mean for them…then. Now he knew he was ready. And apparently he had a lot of making up to do.
oooo
Two hours later, as they were making the final prep and getting ready to go into the studio, he could see that Mac was completely taken aback (to the point where she was leaning more towards being suspicious than gratified)at his complete change in demeanour. He had been cooperative, had completely taken over their investigation into the congressman that she had spotlighted; and had been nothing but the perfect gentleman.
Eventually he could tell that she was beginning to suspect why he was doing what he was doing, and it culminated in the two of him in his office, her rattling off last minute statistics to him as he quickly slung a tie around his neck.
"You're sure you've got all this? I can have Joey work it into a graphic?"
He shook his head reassuringly, "No, I've got it. Don't worry."
A strange expression flickered across her face. "I'm not." She said softly.
He stopped, his fingers entangled in the knot as he fixed on her face, trying to work out what she was thinking.
A confused but slightly nervous smile appeared on her face as she put the notepad down on the seat by his desk and walked over, gently prying his fingers off the tie and finishing the loop herself. He watched her raptly as she did this; the way her hair, tired from her running her hands through it all day, fell at just the right angle over her face so that in the contrast of its shadow, the two little specks of light in the middle of her eyes seemed as bright as stars. The way her face contorted into a look far too concentrated for someone just tying a neck tie; and the way her lips parted slightly, her tongue clearly tucked behind her teeth as she worked.
When she looked back up at his face, his eyes followed her like a puppy's gaze follows its owner around the room. That small, confused smile was back on her face and he suddenly realised that her hands were still resting gently against his collarbone. "What's going on here?"
She said it softly, a quiet pain and desperation just creeping out from the back of her throat. His throat went dry. It had been two hours since Charlie had told him. He was still processing everything in his head, and he kicked himself that he couldn't tell her what was going on yet…because she deserved to know – and she was already waiting for so much, he just wanted to kick himself for adding another mysterious item to the list.
Knowing she would see through it, but hoping that she would (yet again) give him the benefit of the doubt and let it pass for now, he gently took her wrists from his chest, gently rubbing circles into them with his thumbs and looking imploringly into her eyes.
"I'm sorry I was a jerk earlier. You deserved better." Before he could change his mind, or let his rational mind take over, he leaned forward and placed a very gentle, but lingering kiss on her cheek, pressing his lips into her skin slightly.
He heard her breath hitch slightly, and he sadly noticed that she stiffened before easing up after a couple of seconds. Giving her arms a quick squeeze, he dropped his hold on her, and quickly moved towards the door, but she had turned around and caught his fingertips in hers before he got away.
The confusion on her face was more pronounced than ever, and he tried to tell her without words that he wasn't trying to hurt her. She seemed to understand, and confusion gave way to acute frustration before she realised what she must look like, and dropped his hand, trying to force her face into a smile and put her professional mask back on.
Gathering up her notebook again, she followed him towards the door, but he put his hand out to stop her from opening it.
"Soon, okay? Just…just not yet." There was an almost pleading look in his eyes; he could feel it. A spark of something glinted in hers, but her mask seemed to be back on – probably to punish him a little for his actions today, he thought (usually she didn't bother with her mask around him). She just looked at him for a few seconds and then nodded, bottom lip caught in her teeth.
He opened the door for her, and together they stepped back to reality.
She stirred slightly, as the fingers tracing the threads of her hair skimmed across the sensitive spot just behind her ear, and she turned over, wriggling closer to the warmth of his body, and he laughed slightly, beaming at her in the dark, marvelling at her. It didn't stop his ministrations, however.
Her eyes flickered open sleepily, and she frowned up at him as she realised he was still awake.
"Why aren't you asleep, Billy?"
Instead of answering her, he leaned down on his propped up elbow, and caught her open mouth against his, revelling in the instant moan which vibrated through to the back of his own throat as her small, lithe hand found its way to curl against the bottom of his neck as she lazily moved her lips back against his. His free hand found its way to her hip which was bared at the bottom of her t-shirt where it met her shorts.
When he pulled back she pouted, clearly displeased that he had stopped, which made him laugh again and he ran his finger down the bridge of her nose.
"Just making up for the ones I missed." He smiled. Realising what he was talking about, she smiled in return, and tucked herself closer into his body, moulding to the shape of him. Her eyes glinted in the gloom and he could tell she was up to something.
"Well, I think I'll be the judge of when you've made up for them."
He was now massaging slow, gentle circles into the protrusion of her hip bone, knowing it was another very sensitive spot; and grinning when he watched her eyes close, the sleepy smile on her face widening.
He leaned in once more, opening her mouth with his and letting his tongue gently dance with hers, the warm weight of her against him making him feel like the world was finally right.
She slipped one foot between his, managing to press herself even closer, but it also meant Will had to pull back again, because her thigh was now resting between both of his and it was making him slightly uncomfortable. The mischievous twinkle in her eye told him that she was having no trouble remembering where they were and was fully aware of what she was doing.
"And how many, Ms McHale," He teased at her, trying not to let his discomfort show (though of course she saw right through it – and giggled! To which he tickled her, forcing her to relent), "How many months will it be before you decide I've made up for them?"
"Right now I really couldn't say." She quipped. He grinned and laughed, tucking her head under his chin, and allowing her to drape herself across him and holding her there as he finally leaned back against the pillows.
"Night Mackenzie."
"Love you, Will."
[The End]
Hope this fits in okay. If not, pretend it doesn't exist and love the first 6 parts :p
And now I need to get back to my other fics, guys! They're all really jealous of this one. It's been hogging my attention for the last three days. Dinners to go to, dance's to be had, therapists to see, ex-boyfriends to knock the stuffing out of...it all needs to be written. And soon, before I go mad.
Thank you for all your amazing love, again xx
