Mac's day was filled with moving activities; unloading her car, getting things moved into her sparse, but furnished, little sublet, putting away clothes, setting up her desktop computer—yet again. She had somehow picked a day to move when both Veronica and Wallace both had prior engagements, the former had to complete handgun training (Mac gave a little prayer that the instructor had a lot of patience) and the latter had an away basketball game that had taken him out of town for the day. Mac was feeling cranky and tired, but she still had one last trip to make back to the beach house to fix up her few remaining odds and ends before heading back to her apartment for the night.
As she returned to the house, trotting up the steps, and pushing open the door, the sound of soft laughter followed by Dick's laughing voice, "I kid you not, I have in fact managed to moon my college's campus 's feminist club…" Mac groaned inwardly as she listened to Dick's story, wondering how she had ever felt sorry for the jackass. As she walked down the hall, Dick came into view behind the island. He was making what looked like cocktails for a bottle blonde, who was sitting in front of him at the island.
"Whoa, hey Mackie—thought I'd seen the last of your charming face." Dick seemed to have caught the same disease that Mac had where you couldn't look a person in the eye—his were glued to the blonde's ample and obviously enhanced chest. Mac herself was having trouble looking away at the feat of modern architecture and plastics as she followed the direction of Dick's gaze.
The blond swiveled in her chair to look at who had disturbed their little party, but taking in Mac's torn jeans and 3.14 Pi Day t-shirt, she quickly dismissed the smaller women and turned back to looking hungrily at Dick, eyeing him like dog after a juicy steak. "Dickie, I thought you said we were going to have the house to ourselves tonight?"
Trying not to gag at that 'Dickie,' Mac was unfortunately unable to miss the pointed reference to other nights where they weren't alone in the house, and felt her insides clench again, as heat started to rise in her cheeks. 'Damn her expressive face and blush reflex! This was why she was terrible at poker.'
"I just came to pick up the last of my stuff. I'll leave you guys to yourself in a few minutes." Mac headed up the stairs quickly, failing to see Dick give the blonde an exasperated look.
As Mac returned to what was now no longer her room, she tossed the last few of her things into her overnight bag, clenched her fists, and sat down on the bed, taking in the sun setting over the Pacific, knowing she was going to miss the airy bedroom, the view and the sound of the ocean, and even Dick's cat, which was even now pressing its little claws into her back.
Even though she had only been at the house a few weeks, she felt its pull, and knew she was going to miss living here. For Mac, who had never felt like she had fit in anywhere—not as a Mackenzie where her brains and introvertedness had made her a freak, and not really at Hearst, where the specter of Cassidy's actions and deaths had hung over her relationships, she wondered why this place made her feel this way, like she belonged? Why could she analyze a piece of code and unlock its secrets with ease, but she couldn't figure out what was going on in her own head? Mac was brought out of her silent reverie by the sounds of Dick and Bottle Blonde's laughter, and sighed as she stood up to head back down the stairs.
"Hey Dick, I'm heading out." Mac tossed the words out as she headed for the door quickly, trying but failing to avoid seeing the annoyed look on Dick's face as his attention slid away from his giggling companion.
"Yo, Mackie – See ya around, and don't let the door hit you on the way out." Dick bit out the words, but regretted them almost as soon as they were out of his mouth. He saw Mac's retreating figure freeze, saw her back clench up and her head jerk back and stiffen. She turned around to give him and Britney, Bethany (shit, what was her name?), one last look, which he was sure was one of total disgust, before she turned back to head for the door.
Dick wanted to call her back to stop her, say something to bring her easy smile back to her face, but while he wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer, he knew that he had fucked this thing up royally. Not to mention the fact that Betsey or Betty, or what' s her name was not taking the hint about leaving, and he couldn't exactly drag Mac into the house with her in the room. Dick just looked into his beer and shook his head at the mess his life was currently. Who was he kidding? The mess his life was like always.
Mac made it back to her little apartment, slammed closed the door, and promptly burst into tears, sliding down the door as her legs seemed to give out underneath her. She felt nauseous, and as she let the sobs out, she welcomed the feeling of release the tears offered as they flowed down her face. 'I am not fucking crying over Dick Casablancas and his stupid dumb blonde friend. I'm crying over the loss of his beautiful house!' Mac sniffled a little at the bad joke, and stood back up, looking around at her sad little home for the next three months. She wasn't sure what made her more depressed, the fact that she was crying over Dick, or that she would have to stare at these four walls for the next 12 weeks.
Shaking off the depressing thoughts, Mac squared her shoulders and headed for the bathroom, thinking that there was nothing a hot bath and a pizza couldn't cure. Sure she could feel sad about Dick, or rather the loss of Dick's body, or really the mind-blowing sex that Dick's body could provide. She sighed, but she would give herself one night to feel sad about whatever happened with Dick since her less than amazing return to Neptune, and then she was going to throw herself into work and getting herself a social life that did not revolve around any friends of Logan Echolls.
A quick bath later, Mac was feeling about 90% better, chalking up her earlier break-down to hunger, exhaustion and muscle aches, and not to Dick and his companion for the evening. Hearing the buzzer, she headed to the door in her bathrobe, toweling her hair dry, her stomach growling as visions of vegan pizza danced in her head. Swinging the door open with a cheeky grin, about to tell him he was her savior, she almost slammed it closed again when she saw that it wasn't the pizza guy, but Dick, standing there with his hands in his pockets, looking down at her with those baby blues and his usual smirk.
"I was just nowhere near your neighborhood and thought I'd stop by."
"Strike out with blondie?"
"Why Mackie, you jealous?"
With that, Mac did slam the door in his face.
