So this is pretty much a free for all in terms of characters and POV…bit of a melting pot.

Sins of the Daughter Ch. 7


Charlie tried to keep a straight face as he watched Mackenzie watching Will and her father talk together in the studio. It was three minutes to air and the rehearsal and run through was over; the two men were just sitting chatting about football or some other trivial thing. Will was laughing, and animatedly explaining a moment from Saturday's game to Michael whilst the older man listened attentively, before replying to him.

What neither of them could see was Mac in the control room, watching all of this on the screens. Herb had been trying to ask her about B block for about two whole minutes before he had given up and rolled his eyes good naturedly when he saw that she was not really living in their reality at that particular moment; more like she had been temporarily spellbound. Charlie had no doubts that as soon as the minute countdown began she would snap out of it and her professional instincts would kick in, but for now he was content to let the others get on with the pre-show technical prep without distracting her. He hadn't seen her so calm in a long time.

Mackenzie was transfixed at the screen, listening to Will and her Dad's conversation flow through her ear, even though she wasn't really focussing on the details. For some reason just the two of them being in the same room again made her feel calmer, safer. Not that she didn't always feel safe around each of them separately…maybe safe wasn't the right word…complete? Yeah, that was it. With both of them there, she felt more complete.

She didn't usually feel that she missed her family; she only got the occasional pang of home sickness, and then it would melt into something to do with work, or her day, or her (few) friends, and she would be fine again.

It had maybe happened a little more whilst she had been on her tour, but she figured that had simply been because whilst she had been in the Middle East where she had most definitely not felt secure. Even when they had been in military bases, there was still always that creeping feeling that although it might be more fortified, there was a reason for that; and crazier things had been attempted by the Taliban than firing on an army base, regardless of its security level.

The other possibility was that Mackenzie had never felt she had to lie to her parents. There were maybe a few things she just never told them, especially when she was younger (what girl didn't?), but she had never really lied to them. Until, that was, four years ago. Four years ago when she had broken up with Will. She simply couldn't bring herself to tell them about Brian. They loved Will like a son – had fully been expecting to call him one in a few months' time…how the hell was she supposed to tell them what she had done?

In the end of course she hadn't…TMI had. Yeah, too much fucking information, thanks! Never had that acronym been more appropriate in Mackenzie's opinion.

"30 seconds." Herb's slow, calming voice came across the microphone and Mac was pulled instantly back to reality.

Will was slowly turning back to face the camera, not quite brushing Michael off, but you could see him turning into the Anchor.

"You guys okay through there?" Mac asked softly, smiling at the camera.

"We're just fine, honey." Michael said into his microphone, smiling through the lens at her. She grinned back, not caring of the fact that she knew he couldn't see her.

"Yes you are." She said under her breath.

"We good to go, Mac?" Will asked, skimming through his notes one last time. Her eyebrow quirked at this…Will never usually asked her that – there was never usually any doubt. Between their egos and their faith in their team, that reassurance was usually more than adequate. Well, that and the fact that they never usually had much time to worry about it…they were pushing it right up to broadcast.

"As always Will."

She couldn't think of anything else to say.


It was easily one of the best broadcasts that they had ever done. If she ever needed to give some new blood a lecture on what "Three I's and an A" meant, this would be the broadcast she would make them watch as a demonstration. And as a cherry on top of the beautiful cake of journalism that they had made that day, they were the only Newscast to run with a veto-power segment, and it felt pretty damn good.

After ensuring that the control room was shutting down for the night and making a smooth transition to Ten O'Clock, Mac gathered her notes and turned to leave the room, only to find Charlie leaning against the glass, pulling his headset off his face and smiling gently at her.

"Hey Charlie, I didn't notice you. How long have you been standing here?"

He opened the door to walk out with her and let out a small chuckle. "Since about a minute before we went on air."

Shock registered on Mac's face before she managed to compose herself and shook her head slightly. "Seriously? Wow, I'm sorry, I genuinely didn't notice you."

"Yeah, you seemed a little glued to the screen." She didn't catch the twinkle in his eyes, a glazed look coming over her own face as she looked down at her notebook, smiling.

"Yeah we did good tonight. I hardly had to work the control room at all – I mean I didn't even turn around, clearly!" Charlie rolled his eyes to himself and clasped his hands behind his back as they walked.

"So, Ms McHale. Especially after that, I'm quite eager to meet this Father of yours."

"Well, I'm sure I can arrange an introduction." She smiled at him. "I should probably have said earlier, he knows a good scotch when he sees one."

"Really," Charlie's eyes lit up appreciatively. "Well, I should introduce him to the – small, Mac, small! – collection I have in my cabinet. If you need someone to keep him occupied whilst you run over the plan for the follow-up tomorrow I'd be happy to oblige."

Mac laughed and nodded, "Right. Sounds like a plan. I think tonight's show has definitely set up tomorrow quite well, so hopefully we won't need to do too much. Unless there are any major developments, or anything changes drastically overnight I'm only planning to run it in the A and four over into B tomorrow, so I doubt you'll be able to get him too drunk."

"Ye of little faith." Charlie muttered under his breath, looking slightly insulted.

"Mackie!" her father and Will came walking out of the studio as she and Charlie headed to Mac's office. They stopped and Mackenzie pulled him into a hug, kissing his cheek. "Great segment Dad, thank you for coming in."

"My pleasure!" He beamed. "I just stood behind the camera for the rest of the show – fascinating stuff!" He was beginning to get very excited about the day's outing, and Mac met Will's eyes, both of them grinning and trying not to laugh. To move them on, she gently put an arm around Charlie's shoulder, pulling him forward slightly.

"Dad, can I introduce my boss, Charlie Skinner? He runs the news division at AWN."

"How do you do, Charlie? You have to put up with both these two? How do you manage?"

Charlie laughed, accepting the handshake and winked at a rather bemused-looking Will and Mackenzie.

"I drink a lot of Bourbon." He said – only half joking (it was, after all, true). "Which is interesting, as Mac here says you're a fan yourself?"

Michael puffed himself up, smiling graciously. "Oh I like a good drink to ease the stress a little in the middle of a busy day. And anyway, a professional's office just doesn't look complete without a crystal glass full of dark liquor."

"You are a man after my own heart."

"And they thought chauvinism was dead." Mac muttered under her breath, but only so that Will – who laughed quietly – could hear her. "My own father…" She shook her head disbelievingly. Will put his hand on her shoulder comfortingly and cleared his throat to interrupt the new discussion on the finer attributes of Kentucky breweries.

"Well gents, you two sound like you could do with said liquor, and whilst it sounds brilliant, Mac and the team and I have a few bureaucracies to wrap up for tomorrow before we can call it a night, so how about we come find you afterwards?"

Mackenzie didn't know whether or not this "we" was a new thing – surely she would have noticed it before now if it was…maybe it was just a temporary thing – but she liked it…which was bad, because she was fairly sure that both Charlie and her father could see the blush creeping across her cheeks.

Maybe she was, in fact, making hay out of nothing…

"That sounds good." Charlie said, placing a hand on Michael's shoulder to steer him away from the News bullpen, "You can join us for a night cap once you're done."

They started to walk away when Charlie called over his shoulder. "And bring Jim up with you! I want a word with him!"

Will saw Jim Harper's head spring up like a deer that has just sensed an approaching hunter, and he walked over to him, slapping him on the back. "Cool it Jim, he's pleased with you. Good work on C block tonight, it was a great segment."

Mackenzie, who had followed them, wrapped her arm around her senior producer and leaned over him to see what he was writing up on his notes, ruffling his hair slightly. "Yep. Not bad Jimmy."

"Don't call me Jimmy." Jim said through gritted teeth, as Mac corrected a grammatical error on his report. She relented her editing and winked at him as she and Will headed over to the conference room. He wasn't really annoyed at her – they both had ways of teasing each other and that had always been hers for him; ever since he had drunkenly let slip in Baghdad that the most annoying thing his mother still did for him was sew "Jimmy" followed by an "L" or an "R" onto name tags in his socks.

She walked past Will was holding the door open for her, but turned to follow his gaze which was watching Charlie and Michael slowly meander around the corner of the News Night bullpen and towards the elevator.

"Do you think they're…" He faded out, clearly thinking better of what he was about to ask. Mackenzie looked at him pensively, a curl pulling at the corners of her lips – she was fairly sure she knew exactly what he had been about to say.

"Plotting?" She suggested in an innocent tone after a few seconds, but there was mischief and suggestiveness dancing in her eyes as Will turned, registering what she had just said. He looked almost surprised that she had actually been paying attention to his words, and even more intrigued at her answer. The ghost of a smile flickered across his face and they stared at each other for a few seconds before their staffers butted in on their moment, by nearly queuing up to follow them into the conference room.

They were professionals; their masks back on as they began the debrief and bounced some ideas around about what they would lead with about Libya the next night.

Mackenzie had been close, however. The first conversation Charlie and Michael had engaged in before they moved onto the early days of the UN and its involvement in Vietnam – Michael had been an Ambassador in the late '70s – and then New York, and then finally Bourbon, was Will and Mackenzie. But "plotting" maybe wasn't the right word…"bemoaning" might be a better one.

TBC…


SO. I did debate putting the Michael/Charlie scene at the end of this chapter, but I'm into term time now and with all the work going on I'm just trying to keep this going and flowing right, and it felt a little too long and like a little too much had happened already, so that's where we start Chapter 8.

But 75% of it is written so it'll be up by the end of the week!