Fic: To you my dear, I wish no harm, Chapter 9
A/N: Look! It’s a quick update. Basically it’s a result of this chapter and the last one being one massive chapter in my mind, and as such being relatively well planned out. This one picks up immediately after the last one ended. I hope you enjoy it!
Oh, and I wanted to say thank you to everyone who’s reviewing. I’m really enjoying reading your feedback, so thanks!
xxx
Title: To you my dear, I wish no harm
Rating: T
Fandom/Pairing: The Newsroom, Will/Mac
Summary: "I'm supposed to hate her. That woman ripped my heart out of my chest and chopped it in half before running over it with a bulldozer and then tossing it into a shredder just to be sure there was nothing left. I had every right to be pissed as hell." He was allowed to be angry with her, he was just getting sick of it. He wanted to see if they could try something different.
xxx
Previously on The Newsroom:
But Will wasn't done. "Her contract's up in less than a year! When she signed it, she joked that it was the longest she'd ever stayed in one place, ever. Not exactly known for her stability, is Mackenzie. Christ, she ran off to the Middle East for three years after we ended things, three years. Last time she left she got hurt. She almost died."
"And?" Jack asked, knowing the answer to the question, but wanting the other man to say it all the same.
The anger suddenly drained out of Will's face, replaced with an almost heartbreaking hopelessness. "And what if she's getting restless again? What if she wants a new adventure? What if she doesn't want to stay? What if she leaves the show?"
What if she leaves me? he thought, but didn't say.
They'd been getting along so much better lately.
xxx
Jack Habib watched the man sitting across from him carefully. He should have seen this coming. In a lot of ways, hating Mackenzie had probably been much easier for Will for any number of reasons. Not the least of which was that if Will hated her, he could tell himself that it didn’t hurt when she wasn’t around anymore. Whereas it would obviously hurt if she left him now. The psychiatrist didn’t bother asking Will if he wanted Mackenzie to stay. The answer to that was obvious. Besides, Jack wanted Will to try to look at things logically (often not an easy task when emotions were involved).
“Do you have any reason to think that Mackenzie wants to leave?” Habib asked.
Will paused. “Not specifically, no,” he admitted.
Habib nodded. He’d assumed as much.
But Will wasn’t done. “On the other hand, I also don’t specifically know that she wants to stay. Don’t have any evidence either way”
Habib frowned. He wasn’t sure that was strictly true, but he suspected that Will wasn’t done, so didn’t interrupt.
“I mean, she’s never really said…” Will trailed off. “We’ve never discussed what would happen after three years. I guess when she originally started, I assumed I’d fire her long before her contract was up. And then...”
“Then?”
“Then things changed,” Will acknowledged.
“Yeah,” Habib agreed.
Will decided to ignore his psychiatrist’s tone. “Anyway, Mac’s always loved adventure, always loved a challenge. Maybe Newsnight isn’t enough of a challenge for her anymore. And if she decides that she’s ready for something new, I mean, it’s not like…”
“It’s not like what, Will?” Habib asked gently.
Will stared at his hands for a moment. “It’s not like I can ask her to stay. She needs to live her own life. I don’t have a claim on her. It’s not like I can guarantee that, that… Anyway, if she thinks another assignment is what’s best for her career, or she’s sick of being stuck in the same newsroom every night, or even if she just wants a change, well then, maybe she should go.”
Habib was very careful to keep both his facial expression and tone neutral. “Maybe she should.”
Will glared at him. He wondered if once, just once, his own goddamn psychiatrist would take his side on something, anything. “Well, thanks Doc.”
Habib leaned forward. Will had been doing a very good job of trying to play the supportive friend and colleague when it came to his producer, but he’d forgotten one key fact. And Habib was going to remind him of that. “Maybe there are reasons why Mackenzie could decide it’s time to find a new job, and I stress the word could, but that doesn’t mean that she will. Particularly since at this point all those reasons you just came up with? They’re purely hypothetical.”
“What?” Will asked. He didn’t think his confusion was unwarranted. Those last few sentences hadn’t exactly been straightforward.
“Have you asked her if she’s getting bored with your show?” Jack asked bluntly.
“No,” Will admitted. He was hardly going to ask that.
“Why not?” Jack demanded.
“Because I’m not going to ask her that,” Will insisted stubbornly.
Habib smirked, but let it slide. For now. “Okay. But even though you may not have an official claim on her, you are well within your rights to tell her you want her to stay. Have you at least done that? Have you talked to her about this at all?”
“No,” Will muttered.
“Well, that’s absolutely shocking,” Jack replied, deliberately sarcastic. Will was in desperate need of a push, and if provoking him was the only way to do that, well Jack was more than happy to oblige.
Will’s reaction was predictable. “Hey! This isn’t easy you know.”
Jack softened slightly, but only slightly. “I know. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it. Because Will, you are allowed to say, Mackenzie, I think what we’re doing here together is worthwhile. Mackenzie, I think what we’re doing here is something I’d like to keep doing. Mackenzie, I want you to stay on as my executive producer. Hell, you could even go for broke and say, Mackenzie, you’re my friend, and as such I would prefer it if you stayed in New York City as opposed to traipsing off to parts unknown. You are allowed to say all of that.”
Will waved a hand in the air in a gesture whose meaning even he wasn’t sure of. “I know that!”
“But?” Habib prompted.
Will paused. “But if I ask her, maybe she’ll only agree because...”
“Because?”
Will sighed and glanced away. “Because she thinks she owes me, or something.”
Habib leaned forward slightly. Well, this was an interesting development. Will had been thinking about this. “You think Mac would stay in a job she hated out of guilt?”
“Who knows what she’d do?” Will grumbled.
Habib didn’t bother pointing out that Will seemed to be doing his best to guess. Instead he just murmured a subtle reprimand. “Will...”
The anchor sighed and conceded. “I think her guilt is not to be underestimated,” he admitted, trying not to fidget with his hands.
Habib leaned back in his chair. Now they were getting somewhere. “And that worries you?”
“I guess so.”
Jack could see that it did. Unfortunately, this was a situation where there was really only one piece of advice he could give. “Will...”
And apparently Will knew it, because he interrupted before Jack could even say it. “I know, I know... I need to talk to Mackenzie.”
Jack smiled, making a note of the resignation in Will’s voice. The anchor had known exactly how their conversation was going to go before it started. Oh well. That was one of the things about therapy. Sometimes a person just needed someone else to tell them what they already knew. “I’m going to consider it progress that you’re at least recognizing that fact,” the young doctor told his patient cheerfully.
“Yeah, you’ve been as sympathetic as always,” Will grumbled.
“Well, I’ll still be here next week,” Jack replied.
“Great,” Will muttered, standing up. It’d been a long session and to be honest, he was glad it was over. He was feeling almost emotionally exhausted. And in a few short hours, he’d be seeing Mackenzie again. He was definitely going to need some coffee first.
“Will,” Jack said.
The anchor turned. “Hm?”
“You are allowed to tell her that you like working with her and that you like being her friend,” Jack reminded him one more time for good measure. “You are allowed to tell her that you’re glad she’s around.”
Will held the younger man’s eyes. He knew the doc only had the best intentions, but... Although, on the other hand, if he did talk to Mackenzie, at least he’d know. But what if...
Will shook his head slightly. “Yeah,” he said quietly, before slipping out of the room.
xxx
A week later, Jack Habib was fidgeting with the books on his bookshelves. He tried to tell himself it wasn’t because he was a little worried about his upcoming session, but even he didn’t believe it. Because he was nervous about the session. Well, not nervous exactly. But, something.
Will was walking on uneven ground, and Jack was always afraid that any given week could result in some kind of massive setback. It wouldn’t take much. Things were so delicate, in the newsroom, between Will and Mackenzie, even just in Will’s head. Each week, Habib found himself making bets in his own mind, trying to predict how Will would be feeling when he walked through the door.
This week, Jack had no idea what he was in for. He was pretty sure nothing would surprise him. After all, if Will hadn’t talked to Mackenzie, his mood could be anything from frustration to outright denial. If he had, well the result could be anything from despair to joy (or the closest thing to it that Will got to it).
Jack knew he had no way of knowing which it would be until Will arrived. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from running through the possibilities.
Luckily, the door opened, cutting off his mental inventory.
Habib turned to greet the man walking into his office.
To his surprise, he realized that he’d somehow managed to miss a possibility. As he sat down, Jack examined the man opposite him (who still hadn’t said anything more than a polite greeting).
It wasn’t what he’d expected.
Will didn’t look particularly upset or frustrated or even happy. He just looked... sheepish.
Habib settled into the other chair, determined not to start things off this week.
“So you may have been right,” Will admitted eventually.
Habib raised his eyebrows. That was different. Their session had barely started and already it was full of surprises. “I’m sorry?”
Will sighed. He should have known the teenager would be smug about that. Still, he supposed he could admit it again. “You may have been right.”
“I’m glad I could help,” Habib replied. “But about what?”
Will just stared at the man sitting opposite him, deciding that he wasn’t going to deign to answer such an obvious question.
“I’m a therapist Will,” Jack reminded him. “I give out a lot of advice to my patients. Really, I can think of any number of things I might have been right about, and that’s just in the last few weeks.”
Will tried to glare, but Jack was pretty sure he could see a hint of a smirk threatening to form.
Jack didn’t rise to the bait, still determined to wait the other man out.
Will seemed to recognize that, because after a moment he sighed. “I talked to Mackenzie.”
“I know,” Jack admitted. The fact was breathtakingly obvious from the other man’s demeanour alone.
“Well if you knew that, then why didn’t you just...” Will exploded in irritation.
“Because I just wanted to mess with you,” Habib replied candidly.
“Great,” Will muttered. “Just great. I come to you to help sort out all the crap in my head, and you decide to add to it.”
“What can I say?” Habib asked. “Every so often, I take a break from being wise and omnipotent for my own entertainment.”
“Well, I’m so glad you decided to take a little vacation from your job in the middle of my session,” Will replied, amused in spite of himself.
“You can take it,” Jack replied bluntly. Actually, Will could more than take it. He needed it from time to time, a little silliness to shake him out of himself. Without a challenge, he’d get bored, and Jack had no intention of letting Will get bored with therapy. The man seriously needed it. Before the anchor could reply, Jack decided it was time to turn the conversation back to the subject at hand. “What did Mackenzie have to say?”
“I don’t know if I want to tell you now,” Will grumbled.
The younger man smiled. He’d known this would be the price he’d pay for his teasing, but he held the trump card today. Because he was pretty sure Will wanted to tell him the story. “Will, what did Mackenzie say?”
“She said lots of things,” Will replied evasively.
Jack nodded. “Well, then why don’t you start at the beginning?”
Will sighed, and did.
xxx
Mackenzie McHale was trying not to worry.
She was not succeeding, but she was trying. And she felt foolish because of it.
But Will was acting oddly. He was.
It was nothing she could put her finger on, but he seemed almost distracted. Distracted, but also... not. He’d gotten through the show nearly flawlessly (a bit of a stumble over the word threshold midway through the D block, but he’d pulled it together in time). Nothing obvious had happened in the newsroom that day, but Mac was sure she was right.
That was why she was still in her office even though they were done to for the day, finishing up a bit of paperwork that couldn’t have been less urgent.
Because she was pretty sure Will was also still around, and she wanted to know why. In fact, she was determined to know why. He’d seemed a little off for a while. Ever since, well, ever since he’d accidentally seen her scar (ever since he’d held her so tightly she’d thought he might squeeze the breath out of her lungs). Since then he’d still been Will, alternating between sweet and irritated, between kind and concerned, between anxious and unbelievably calm. And watching her, always watching her. Though she wasn’t sure what he was looking for (or what he saw).
Part of her wanted to march right into his office and demand an explanation; part of her was afraid to for fear what she might find. If only she had something more obvious to go on, an actual tangible thing to use as leverage, as opposed to just a feeling...
Mac sighed.
“Long day?” a familiar voice in her doorway asked.
Mac glanced up, unsurprised to see him there. A stray thought struck her; suddenly she couldn’t help wondering if he’d been waiting her out. She swallowed. “You would know; you were there for most of it.”
Will raised his eyebrows. “Most?”
“Well, you did have that meeting with Charlie this afternoon,” Mac reminded him.
“Right,” Will replied, stepping into her office. “I meant you’re here late.”
“So are you,” Mac countered easily.
Will nodded absently. He’d been turning the problem over and over in his brain, and he still couldn’t think of a good way to bring it up. “What’re you doing?”
Mac shrugged. “Just catching up on some paperwork.”
Will nodded.“Ah yes, the scourge of any large corporation.” Then inspiration struck, “A bit different than being out in the field, isn’t it?”
Mac leaned back in her chair, surprised by the question. She could count the number of times that Will had referred, even obliquely, to the three years she’d spent in the Middle East on... no hands. “Yeah, but on the other hand, this office is more comfortable than driving around in a Jeep in the desert.”
“So, trade-off then?” Will asked lightly.
Mac smiled. “Guess so.”
Will cleared his throat. He needed to say it. He knew he’d never get a better opportunity. “Do you ever miss it?” he blurted out quickly.
“A Jeep in the desert?” Mac asked in confusion.
Wills smiled in spite of himself. “Being a field reporter.”
Mac considered the question, sensing that the answer was important to him. “I suppose I do,” she said eventually. “Some days at least. The excitement, the urgency, the exhilaration. The sense that you’re right there while the story’s happening. Knowing that you’re the reason people back home know something, because you’re there to tell them.”
Will wasn’t entirely pleased with that answer. “Right.”
But Mac wasn’t done. “On the other hand, there’s the constant having to set up equipment in terrible locations, trying to find good light or sound levels, or even just somewhere safe to stand. And it feels like you spend most of the time travelling, all the driving, the fact that you live out of a suitcase, staying at terrible motels, and never being able to find a quiet moment alone.”
Will decided to go for the joke to buy himself a little time. “Wow Mac, don’t make it sound so glamorous.”
“That’s one word for it,” Mac replied dryly.
“What’s another?” Will asked, trying not to hope that the answer was something like ‘horrendous’ or ‘literally once-in-a-lifetime.’
“There are millions,” Mac told him. “Thrilling, a rush,” her voice dropped. “Dangerous.”
Will winced, remembering the slash across her body. “I’m sorry.”
Mac waved it off, “I’m fine.”
He took a step towards her, realizing suddenly that he’d spent so much of the last week trying to sort through how he felt about her scar that he hadn’t really given that much thought to how his reaction had affected her. Maybe he should... “Mac...”
But she was already moving on with their earlier conversation. “On the other hand, there’s no job like it in the world.”
Will frowned. He tried to hide it, but Mac caught a bit of it anyway. “Why?” she asked.
Will shrugged, not quite ready to reveal his real reason for opening this particular line of questioning. “Just wondering. Curious if you’d ever want to go back, I guess.”
Now it was Mac’s turn to frown. She’d loved field reporting, she had. Then she’d been stabbed, and it’d lost a bit of its lustre. Working the Middle East, in a war zone was an amazing experience, but, she wasn’t sure if it was something she wanted again. Why was Will pushing this? Suddenly a (horrible) niggling thought popping up in the back of her brain that wouldn’t be squashed back down. She shrugged, desperate to play it cool. “Not really,” she said lightly. “Why? You trying to get rid of me?”
Will tried not to panic. “No!” he said (far too quickly to sound suave, or really anything other than frantic). “Of course not, I was just... curious.”
Mac narrowed her eyes. She was beginning to seriously doubt that this conversation had been prompted by pure curiosity. After all, something really had been off all week. Probably something to do with her and her god damn scar. “So you said.”
“It’s true,” Will insisted.
But Mac wasn’t convinced. She’d known him too long and too well to be fooled by that lie.
She stood and walked around her desk to meet him on a level playing field. She crossed her arms, unimpressed. “Billy...”
He just stared right back at her. “Plus, it occurred to me the other day, we’re well into that final third year of your contract.”
Shock shot through Mac, followed by an insurmountable bubble dread. “I guess we are,” she said hollowly.
“And I know you like change,” Will continued, sensing somehow that things might not be going like he wanted, but unsure as to why or how to stop it. So he figured he may as well continue, “Hell, you said it yourself on your first day at ACN. When was the last time you ever signed a contract for longer than three years?”
Mac shut her eyes against the pain and tried to stop her shoulders from sagging. “Seriously, Will, if this is a hint...”
Will strode across the room until he was standing right in front of her. “No!” he insisted.
Mac opened her eyes and dropped her arms to her sides. “Okay.”
But Will could tell at a glance that she didn’t believe him. “Fuck, Mac!”
Mac could feel irritation mixing in the pain. “Well, what were you expecting me to think?”
“That... That...” Will paused, not quite able to say it. Not so directly at least.
“That what?” Mac pressed, desperate for an answer (almost any answer would be better than what was pounding through her own brain).
Will ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “There are three things I’m supposed to say to you,” he tried to explain. Three big ones at least. He’d counted.
Mac wasn’t sure why that made it worse, but it did. Was it wrong for her to want him to want to say things to her as opposed to feeling a sense of obligation? “Supposed to?”
“According to Jack,” Will grumbled.
“Jack?” Mac asked, to mixed up to make the connection.
“Dr. Habib,” Will told her.
That caught her attention, made her pause in her panic. “You talk about this with...”
“Of course I talk about you with my psychiatrist,” Will growled. “Who else am I going to talk about?”
“I don’t know, some other woman who fucked up your life!” Mac snapped, not sure why was trying to provoke him. Scar notwithstanding, she’d finally started feeling like the ground was getting a little bit stable under her feet (maybe even under their feet), and now she was feeling vulnerable all over again. So she did what she always did when she felt exposed, she reacted with sarcasm.
“That’s not what I meant!” Will all but yelled, wondering when yet another conversation had gone off the rails. They’d been doing better lately; he’d thought that maybe they’d be able to get through this. That he’d be able to... Fuck. He could deliver fucking verbal oratory on air without a prompter; why couldn’t he string a coherent sentence together when it came to how he felt about her? Will could practically feel the waves of hurt rolling off of Mackenzie now. If she hadn’t wanted to leave Newsnight before, she probably would soon if he kept on like this.
He took a deep breath. “Okay, time out!” he ordered. “Just time out. Just, please. Give me a second. I... I said this wrong. I didn’t... Let me say it better. Okay Mac? Just... just give me a second.”
Mac forced herself to calm down, tried to be a little less defensive. That was the problem with royally fucking up your life. You tended to assume everything bad that happened was your fault. If he wanted to explain, she’d let him.
“There are three things that I have to say to you,” Will murmured, trying not to fidget with his pockets.
Mac decided I have to was better than I’m supposed to.
“Three things I want to say to you,” he muttered (Mac decided that was best of all). Will’s next breath was audible, but he forced himself to look her in the eye. “One, I like working with you; you’re the best producer I’ve ever had. The only one I can imagine working with long term, because no one else is as good. You know that. Two, I like our show. I like making our show. I want to keep doing that. With you. If you want to. I know I can’t.. I mean, I know it’ll be your choice. I’m not trying to force you into or, or make you feel obligated or... whatever. And, three...” Will paused before just deciding the hell with it. “Three, apart from all that, I’d like it if you stayed in New York. I like... I like that we’re friends. I like having someone around who instinctively understands things like the importance of moving things around in the control room just to screw with Don before the 10 o’clock. So, uh, yeah. I guess I just wanted to say that we’re friends, and, and, I like it when you live in the same city as I do. There, that’s all.”
To Will’s shock, his declaration caused Mackenzie to drop her chin to her chest and burst into slightly hysterical laughter. Laughter that got more hysterical by the second as her shoulders started to shake and her sobs became mixed in with it. Will tried not to retreat into himself at the sound.
“You idiot!” Mac managed to catch her breath long enough to choke out, looking up at him with an absolutely incandescent smile (and tears running down her cheeks).
Will barely had a second for his confusion to register before she’d launched herself at him, her arms wrapping around him like a vice. “You complete and utter idiot!” she said again, sobbing in relief.
Will tentatively wrapped his arms around her, patting her on the shoulder. Maybe, for once, he’d managed to do something better than he’d originally thought.
“How can someone with such a big brain be so stupid?” Mac sobbed into his neck and punching him in the shoulder (before soothing the abused area as she wrapped her arm back around him).
“Hey!” Will objected, turning slightly into her hair. “I hardly think that...”
Mac overrode him. “I thought you were sounding me out because you were leading up to telling me that what with my contract coming up for renewal, now might be a good time for me to think about finding another job! Maybe leaving and going back out in the field and, and... leaving. You idiot.”
Will was pretty sure he actually was an idiot if he’d managed to give her that impression. Though he wasn’t quite sure how it’d happened, and was also fairly certain she was at least halfway to blame (not that he said any of that). Instead he just tightened his arms around her a little and leaned his head against hers. “I was trying to see if you were thinking about a change,” he tried to explain.
“Idiot,” Mac muttered again into his shoulder.
“Well, how was I supposed to know you wanted to stay?” Will asked helplessly.
Mac frowned and pulled back. Much as she always enjoyed being in his arms, if he thought that, then they needed to get something straight. Right now. “Billy, this is our show.”
“I know,” he assured her. “I know you love the show, Mac...”
She stared at him. If he knew she loved the show, then why had he thought she wanted to leave? “Do you?”
Will tried to explain. “I just thought, you know, I thought you might be looking for another challenge. That’s all.”
“Okay, well, first of all, you’re challenge enough for anyone,” Mac assured him.
Will tried to roll his eyes, but wasn’t quite able to.
“And second of all, you look at me Billy. Look at me, and listen carefully. Let’s get one thing straight right now. I love this show. I love this newsroom. I love being an executive producer, your executive producer. I love that it’s in my job description to kick your ass when you need it. I love that I get to be in control of you for an hour...”
“No kidding,” Will muttered under his breath, slightly frightened by the feeling of his heart racing in his chest.
Mac ignored him and kept going, determined to drive her point home. “I stuck it out through the first few months when I thought you were going to fire me literally every week. I was there on the days when you could barely stand to be in the same room as me, let alone actually speak to me. I was there for Casey Anthony and all the other times you got scared of the ratings. I was there when you were high on the air. I was there when Leona tried to fire you. I was there through your idiot plan to put Brian in our newsroom. I was there for all of it. Did you not see me.”
“I did,” Will assured her quietly.
But Mac was on a roll. “Do you really think I’m going to leave now that things are actually working? I love Newsnight. I love our show. This is the best job I’ve ever had. And I am going to fight for it. And I’m crafty. I’m not going to let it go. They’ll have to pry it from my cold dead hands. The only way you’re going to get rid of me is if you decide you can’t work with me, and you order me gone. Because I’ve stuck it out through all of your shit, Will. There isn’t anything you can throw at me now that I can’t handle. I love our show.”
Will stared at the woman in front of him. This tiny woman, who right now was practically an explosion of emotion and expansive gestures. Who was making a speech like she was ready to lead a battle charge. “I just thought...”
“And yes!” Mac admitted. “Okay, yes! In the past I’ve maybe bounced around a little professionally. Sometimes I maybe even seemed a little indecisive. But here’s the thing Billy, I’m older now. I’ve had a lot of time to think about this. I’ve had three years to...”
Will froze.
And all of a sudden Mac turned quiet. Quiet, intense, convincing. “I’ve had a lot of time,” she said again, her eyes never leaving his, barely blinking. “I had lots of time to think, and I thought about a lot of things. Then, when I was done thinking, I made some decisions. They took time. But I made them. I know what I want. Being a field reporter was incredible. But it’s not what I want anymore. I want to be an EP. I want to run a newsroom. I want this show. I want... this life. And I’m stubborn, Billy. Very stubborn. You know I am. Once I make up my mind, it stays made up. And my mind’s made up. I know exactly what I want. I want Newsnight. And I’m sure.”
Will could only stare at her. His throat was dry and he swore he could hear the blood rushing through his ears. He found his voice somehow, “So, if I handed you another three year contract right now?”
Mac didn’t even falter (though she could feel the adrenaline starting to wear off now). “I’d sign it in a heartbeat.”
Will concentrated very hard on ensuring his hands weren’t trembling. “The lawyers might want to be involved, never mind your agent.”
Mac just shrugged. “They can work out the details amongst themselves. You’re stuck with me.”
Will finally let himself breathe. “Okay.”
“Although, I’m not signing anything that lets you fire me at the end of every week,” Mac replied, deciding that she did have one demand. Just a little one. “That nonsense is done.”
Will chuckled. “Great! Maybe I’ll get my three million dollars back.”
“I’d focus more on that non-compete clause first, Billy,” Mac suggested dryly.
Will could only agree. “Yeah.”
“Yeah.”
Then it was Will’s turn to frown slightly, realizing there was at least one more thing to be said. “I don’t want to fire you every Friday, Mac. I already told my agent to make sure they got rid of that next time around.”
Mac’s face lit up into a smile. “When did you do that?”
He waved a hand absently in her direction. “I don’t know, six months ago, maybe.”
“Billy...” she murmured. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He shrugged, not really wanting to get into it. She knew he wanted her to stay now, that was enough. “I wasn’t trying to suggest you should leave, Mac.”
She tilted her head up. “So you said.” His numbered list of things that he had actually wanted to say had charmed her, even apart from the words themselves. For some reason she liked the idea that he’d planned out what he wanted to say to her. Sure, in the end he’d made a mess of it anyway, but the idea that she mattered enough for him to plan...
“Yeah.”
Mac’s grin turned teasing. “You want me to stay in New York on a personal level?”
Will saw the amusement on her face; he pulled her back against him so he couldn’t anymore. “Yeah.”
She sighed. “Me too,” she murmured.
And with that, Will finally felt himself relax.
“Hey! We should celebrate!” Mac said suddenly.
Will looked down at her indulgently, in his current mood he was perfectly ready to go along with just about anything she suggested. “What did you have in mind?”
She frowned, considering the hour and what was still open. “I’m guessing you haven’t eaten yet.”
“You’d be guessing correctly,” Will told her.
Mac bit her lip. “Steak sandwiches at the all-night diner down the street from my apartment?”
Will smirked. “You going to buy?”
“Hey! You’re the one who’s hoping for an extra three million in their next contract!” Mac reminded him.
But Will had a comeback ready. “You issued the invitation!”
Their argument lasted the entire way to the restaurant.
xxx
“So who paid, in the end?” Habib asked.
“She wouldn’t let me,” Will admitted. “So I bought her waffles the next morning.”
“Of course you did,” Jack muttered under his breath.
“What?” Will asked.
“Nothing.”
“Okay,” Will replied, deciding to let it slide. “Anyway...”
But Habib realized he did have a question after all. “Wait, waffles?”
“Sure,” Will replied.
Habib just stared. “Waffles?”
“What’s wrong with waffles?” Will asked innocently.
Jack shook his head. “Nothing’s wrong with waffles, but aren’t those usually a thing you buy someone when you’re meeting up for breakfast, or at least eating breakfast together?”
“We were eating breakfast together,” Will explained neutrally.
Habib just blinked. “You were?”
“Sure,” Will confirmed. “Well, okay, it was probably more like brunch.”
“Brunch?” Jack repeated.
“Yeah. With our schedules, sometimes meals get a little off-kilter,” Will explained. “And if lunch is sometimes at three, then 11 has to be something else.”
“Elevensies?” Jack suggested.
Will just stared at the younger man. He shook his head. “Anyway, by the time I got into work the next day, Mackenzie was already all fired up about something or other...”
Or just excited because she’d found out that one of her secret fears wasn’t coming to pass, Jack thought to himself.
“And I’ve seen what that’s like,” Will continued. “She forgets to sit down and eat. So before she saw me, I went back downstairs and got her waffles.”
“Right,” Jack murmured, wondering if Will honestly thought this was something most peopled did for their ‘close colleagues.’
“The good ones,” Will assured the younger man. “With strawberries and chocolate on them.”
“No whipped cream?” Jack asked dryly.
But Will just shook his head. “Mac doesn’t like whipped cream.”
Jack found himself smiling. “I assume she liked the waffles though.”
“Yeah, though she had the nerve to lecture me about my cholesterol while we ate them,” Will complained. “There was fruit on them and everything!”
“Oh well, in that case.”
“Shut up.”
Jack bit his tongue just in time. He’d been close to asking Will how many meals he thought he shared with Mackenzie in any given week on average. But Jack also didn’t want to make the anchor defensive.
Instead he decided to gloat a little. “So, turns out Mackenzie didn’t want to leave Newsnight at all.”
“Don’t push it,” Will warned. “I already admitted you were right when I came in here.”
Jack supposed he had. Still he had one more question. “Do you believe her?”
Will turned pensive. He glanced out the window. “You didn’t see her,” he said eventually.
“No,” Jack agreed.
Will continued on as if he hadn’t spoken. “Because if you had, you wouldn’t have asked that question.”
Jack nodded, even though Will wasn’t looking at him. “Will?” he said after a moment.
“Yeah?”
“You might want to remember what she looked like,” Jack suggested.
Will looked over at him, the question obvious on his face.
“For later,” Jack explained. “Just in case.” After all, he knew the anchor would have his doubts from time to time.
Will tensed, but after a moment he nodded.
His point made, Jack decided it was a good time to shift the subject a little and ask Will about his general health.
After all, Jack was sure there’d be plenty of time to come back to the subject of Mackenzie later.
xxx
TBC
Oh, and I wanted to say thank you to everyone who’s reviewing. I’m really enjoying reading your feedback, so thanks!
xxx
Title: To you my dear, I wish no harm
Rating: T
Fandom/Pairing: The Newsroom, Will/Mac
Summary: "I'm supposed to hate her. That woman ripped my heart out of my chest and chopped it in half before running over it with a bulldozer and then tossing it into a shredder just to be sure there was nothing left. I had every right to be pissed as hell." He was allowed to be angry with her, he was just getting sick of it. He wanted to see if they could try something different.
xxx
Previously on The Newsroom:
But Will wasn't done. "Her contract's up in less than a year! When she signed it, she joked that it was the longest she'd ever stayed in one place, ever. Not exactly known for her stability, is Mackenzie. Christ, she ran off to the Middle East for three years after we ended things, three years. Last time she left she got hurt. She almost died."
"And?" Jack asked, knowing the answer to the question, but wanting the other man to say it all the same.
The anger suddenly drained out of Will's face, replaced with an almost heartbreaking hopelessness. "And what if she's getting restless again? What if she wants a new adventure? What if she doesn't want to stay? What if she leaves the show?"
What if she leaves me? he thought, but didn't say.
They'd been getting along so much better lately.
xxx
Jack Habib watched the man sitting across from him carefully. He should have seen this coming. In a lot of ways, hating Mackenzie had probably been much easier for Will for any number of reasons. Not the least of which was that if Will hated her, he could tell himself that it didn’t hurt when she wasn’t around anymore. Whereas it would obviously hurt if she left him now. The psychiatrist didn’t bother asking Will if he wanted Mackenzie to stay. The answer to that was obvious. Besides, Jack wanted Will to try to look at things logically (often not an easy task when emotions were involved).
“Do you have any reason to think that Mackenzie wants to leave?” Habib asked.
Will paused. “Not specifically, no,” he admitted.
Habib nodded. He’d assumed as much.
But Will wasn’t done. “On the other hand, I also don’t specifically know that she wants to stay. Don’t have any evidence either way”
Habib frowned. He wasn’t sure that was strictly true, but he suspected that Will wasn’t done, so didn’t interrupt.
“I mean, she’s never really said…” Will trailed off. “We’ve never discussed what would happen after three years. I guess when she originally started, I assumed I’d fire her long before her contract was up. And then...”
“Then?”
“Then things changed,” Will acknowledged.
“Yeah,” Habib agreed.
Will decided to ignore his psychiatrist’s tone. “Anyway, Mac’s always loved adventure, always loved a challenge. Maybe Newsnight isn’t enough of a challenge for her anymore. And if she decides that she’s ready for something new, I mean, it’s not like…”
“It’s not like what, Will?” Habib asked gently.
Will stared at his hands for a moment. “It’s not like I can ask her to stay. She needs to live her own life. I don’t have a claim on her. It’s not like I can guarantee that, that… Anyway, if she thinks another assignment is what’s best for her career, or she’s sick of being stuck in the same newsroom every night, or even if she just wants a change, well then, maybe she should go.”
Habib was very careful to keep both his facial expression and tone neutral. “Maybe she should.”
Will glared at him. He wondered if once, just once, his own goddamn psychiatrist would take his side on something, anything. “Well, thanks Doc.”
Habib leaned forward. Will had been doing a very good job of trying to play the supportive friend and colleague when it came to his producer, but he’d forgotten one key fact. And Habib was going to remind him of that. “Maybe there are reasons why Mackenzie could decide it’s time to find a new job, and I stress the word could, but that doesn’t mean that she will. Particularly since at this point all those reasons you just came up with? They’re purely hypothetical.”
“What?” Will asked. He didn’t think his confusion was unwarranted. Those last few sentences hadn’t exactly been straightforward.
“Have you asked her if she’s getting bored with your show?” Jack asked bluntly.
“No,” Will admitted. He was hardly going to ask that.
“Why not?” Jack demanded.
“Because I’m not going to ask her that,” Will insisted stubbornly.
Habib smirked, but let it slide. For now. “Okay. But even though you may not have an official claim on her, you are well within your rights to tell her you want her to stay. Have you at least done that? Have you talked to her about this at all?”
“No,” Will muttered.
“Well, that’s absolutely shocking,” Jack replied, deliberately sarcastic. Will was in desperate need of a push, and if provoking him was the only way to do that, well Jack was more than happy to oblige.
Will’s reaction was predictable. “Hey! This isn’t easy you know.”
Jack softened slightly, but only slightly. “I know. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it. Because Will, you are allowed to say, Mackenzie, I think what we’re doing here together is worthwhile. Mackenzie, I think what we’re doing here is something I’d like to keep doing. Mackenzie, I want you to stay on as my executive producer. Hell, you could even go for broke and say, Mackenzie, you’re my friend, and as such I would prefer it if you stayed in New York City as opposed to traipsing off to parts unknown. You are allowed to say all of that.”
Will waved a hand in the air in a gesture whose meaning even he wasn’t sure of. “I know that!”
“But?” Habib prompted.
Will paused. “But if I ask her, maybe she’ll only agree because...”
“Because?”
Will sighed and glanced away. “Because she thinks she owes me, or something.”
Habib leaned forward slightly. Well, this was an interesting development. Will had been thinking about this. “You think Mac would stay in a job she hated out of guilt?”
“Who knows what she’d do?” Will grumbled.
Habib didn’t bother pointing out that Will seemed to be doing his best to guess. Instead he just murmured a subtle reprimand. “Will...”
The anchor sighed and conceded. “I think her guilt is not to be underestimated,” he admitted, trying not to fidget with his hands.
Habib leaned back in his chair. Now they were getting somewhere. “And that worries you?”
“I guess so.”
Jack could see that it did. Unfortunately, this was a situation where there was really only one piece of advice he could give. “Will...”
And apparently Will knew it, because he interrupted before Jack could even say it. “I know, I know... I need to talk to Mackenzie.”
Jack smiled, making a note of the resignation in Will’s voice. The anchor had known exactly how their conversation was going to go before it started. Oh well. That was one of the things about therapy. Sometimes a person just needed someone else to tell them what they already knew. “I’m going to consider it progress that you’re at least recognizing that fact,” the young doctor told his patient cheerfully.
“Yeah, you’ve been as sympathetic as always,” Will grumbled.
“Well, I’ll still be here next week,” Jack replied.
“Great,” Will muttered, standing up. It’d been a long session and to be honest, he was glad it was over. He was feeling almost emotionally exhausted. And in a few short hours, he’d be seeing Mackenzie again. He was definitely going to need some coffee first.
“Will,” Jack said.
The anchor turned. “Hm?”
“You are allowed to tell her that you like working with her and that you like being her friend,” Jack reminded him one more time for good measure. “You are allowed to tell her that you’re glad she’s around.”
Will held the younger man’s eyes. He knew the doc only had the best intentions, but... Although, on the other hand, if he did talk to Mackenzie, at least he’d know. But what if...
Will shook his head slightly. “Yeah,” he said quietly, before slipping out of the room.
xxx
A week later, Jack Habib was fidgeting with the books on his bookshelves. He tried to tell himself it wasn’t because he was a little worried about his upcoming session, but even he didn’t believe it. Because he was nervous about the session. Well, not nervous exactly. But, something.
Will was walking on uneven ground, and Jack was always afraid that any given week could result in some kind of massive setback. It wouldn’t take much. Things were so delicate, in the newsroom, between Will and Mackenzie, even just in Will’s head. Each week, Habib found himself making bets in his own mind, trying to predict how Will would be feeling when he walked through the door.
This week, Jack had no idea what he was in for. He was pretty sure nothing would surprise him. After all, if Will hadn’t talked to Mackenzie, his mood could be anything from frustration to outright denial. If he had, well the result could be anything from despair to joy (or the closest thing to it that Will got to it).
Jack knew he had no way of knowing which it would be until Will arrived. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from running through the possibilities.
Luckily, the door opened, cutting off his mental inventory.
Habib turned to greet the man walking into his office.
To his surprise, he realized that he’d somehow managed to miss a possibility. As he sat down, Jack examined the man opposite him (who still hadn’t said anything more than a polite greeting).
It wasn’t what he’d expected.
Will didn’t look particularly upset or frustrated or even happy. He just looked... sheepish.
Habib settled into the other chair, determined not to start things off this week.
“So you may have been right,” Will admitted eventually.
Habib raised his eyebrows. That was different. Their session had barely started and already it was full of surprises. “I’m sorry?”
Will sighed. He should have known the teenager would be smug about that. Still, he supposed he could admit it again. “You may have been right.”
“I’m glad I could help,” Habib replied. “But about what?”
Will just stared at the man sitting opposite him, deciding that he wasn’t going to deign to answer such an obvious question.
“I’m a therapist Will,” Jack reminded him. “I give out a lot of advice to my patients. Really, I can think of any number of things I might have been right about, and that’s just in the last few weeks.”
Will tried to glare, but Jack was pretty sure he could see a hint of a smirk threatening to form.
Jack didn’t rise to the bait, still determined to wait the other man out.
Will seemed to recognize that, because after a moment he sighed. “I talked to Mackenzie.”
“I know,” Jack admitted. The fact was breathtakingly obvious from the other man’s demeanour alone.
“Well if you knew that, then why didn’t you just...” Will exploded in irritation.
“Because I just wanted to mess with you,” Habib replied candidly.
“Great,” Will muttered. “Just great. I come to you to help sort out all the crap in my head, and you decide to add to it.”
“What can I say?” Habib asked. “Every so often, I take a break from being wise and omnipotent for my own entertainment.”
“Well, I’m so glad you decided to take a little vacation from your job in the middle of my session,” Will replied, amused in spite of himself.
“You can take it,” Jack replied bluntly. Actually, Will could more than take it. He needed it from time to time, a little silliness to shake him out of himself. Without a challenge, he’d get bored, and Jack had no intention of letting Will get bored with therapy. The man seriously needed it. Before the anchor could reply, Jack decided it was time to turn the conversation back to the subject at hand. “What did Mackenzie have to say?”
“I don’t know if I want to tell you now,” Will grumbled.
The younger man smiled. He’d known this would be the price he’d pay for his teasing, but he held the trump card today. Because he was pretty sure Will wanted to tell him the story. “Will, what did Mackenzie say?”
“She said lots of things,” Will replied evasively.
Jack nodded. “Well, then why don’t you start at the beginning?”
Will sighed, and did.
xxx
Mackenzie McHale was trying not to worry.
She was not succeeding, but she was trying. And she felt foolish because of it.
But Will was acting oddly. He was.
It was nothing she could put her finger on, but he seemed almost distracted. Distracted, but also... not. He’d gotten through the show nearly flawlessly (a bit of a stumble over the word threshold midway through the D block, but he’d pulled it together in time). Nothing obvious had happened in the newsroom that day, but Mac was sure she was right.
That was why she was still in her office even though they were done to for the day, finishing up a bit of paperwork that couldn’t have been less urgent.
Because she was pretty sure Will was also still around, and she wanted to know why. In fact, she was determined to know why. He’d seemed a little off for a while. Ever since, well, ever since he’d accidentally seen her scar (ever since he’d held her so tightly she’d thought he might squeeze the breath out of her lungs). Since then he’d still been Will, alternating between sweet and irritated, between kind and concerned, between anxious and unbelievably calm. And watching her, always watching her. Though she wasn’t sure what he was looking for (or what he saw).
Part of her wanted to march right into his office and demand an explanation; part of her was afraid to for fear what she might find. If only she had something more obvious to go on, an actual tangible thing to use as leverage, as opposed to just a feeling...
Mac sighed.
“Long day?” a familiar voice in her doorway asked.
Mac glanced up, unsurprised to see him there. A stray thought struck her; suddenly she couldn’t help wondering if he’d been waiting her out. She swallowed. “You would know; you were there for most of it.”
Will raised his eyebrows. “Most?”
“Well, you did have that meeting with Charlie this afternoon,” Mac reminded him.
“Right,” Will replied, stepping into her office. “I meant you’re here late.”
“So are you,” Mac countered easily.
Will nodded absently. He’d been turning the problem over and over in his brain, and he still couldn’t think of a good way to bring it up. “What’re you doing?”
Mac shrugged. “Just catching up on some paperwork.”
Will nodded.“Ah yes, the scourge of any large corporation.” Then inspiration struck, “A bit different than being out in the field, isn’t it?”
Mac leaned back in her chair, surprised by the question. She could count the number of times that Will had referred, even obliquely, to the three years she’d spent in the Middle East on... no hands. “Yeah, but on the other hand, this office is more comfortable than driving around in a Jeep in the desert.”
“So, trade-off then?” Will asked lightly.
Mac smiled. “Guess so.”
Will cleared his throat. He needed to say it. He knew he’d never get a better opportunity. “Do you ever miss it?” he blurted out quickly.
“A Jeep in the desert?” Mac asked in confusion.
Wills smiled in spite of himself. “Being a field reporter.”
Mac considered the question, sensing that the answer was important to him. “I suppose I do,” she said eventually. “Some days at least. The excitement, the urgency, the exhilaration. The sense that you’re right there while the story’s happening. Knowing that you’re the reason people back home know something, because you’re there to tell them.”
Will wasn’t entirely pleased with that answer. “Right.”
But Mac wasn’t done. “On the other hand, there’s the constant having to set up equipment in terrible locations, trying to find good light or sound levels, or even just somewhere safe to stand. And it feels like you spend most of the time travelling, all the driving, the fact that you live out of a suitcase, staying at terrible motels, and never being able to find a quiet moment alone.”
Will decided to go for the joke to buy himself a little time. “Wow Mac, don’t make it sound so glamorous.”
“That’s one word for it,” Mac replied dryly.
“What’s another?” Will asked, trying not to hope that the answer was something like ‘horrendous’ or ‘literally once-in-a-lifetime.’
“There are millions,” Mac told him. “Thrilling, a rush,” her voice dropped. “Dangerous.”
Will winced, remembering the slash across her body. “I’m sorry.”
Mac waved it off, “I’m fine.”
He took a step towards her, realizing suddenly that he’d spent so much of the last week trying to sort through how he felt about her scar that he hadn’t really given that much thought to how his reaction had affected her. Maybe he should... “Mac...”
But she was already moving on with their earlier conversation. “On the other hand, there’s no job like it in the world.”
Will frowned. He tried to hide it, but Mac caught a bit of it anyway. “Why?” she asked.
Will shrugged, not quite ready to reveal his real reason for opening this particular line of questioning. “Just wondering. Curious if you’d ever want to go back, I guess.”
Now it was Mac’s turn to frown. She’d loved field reporting, she had. Then she’d been stabbed, and it’d lost a bit of its lustre. Working the Middle East, in a war zone was an amazing experience, but, she wasn’t sure if it was something she wanted again. Why was Will pushing this? Suddenly a (horrible) niggling thought popping up in the back of her brain that wouldn’t be squashed back down. She shrugged, desperate to play it cool. “Not really,” she said lightly. “Why? You trying to get rid of me?”
Will tried not to panic. “No!” he said (far too quickly to sound suave, or really anything other than frantic). “Of course not, I was just... curious.”
Mac narrowed her eyes. She was beginning to seriously doubt that this conversation had been prompted by pure curiosity. After all, something really had been off all week. Probably something to do with her and her god damn scar. “So you said.”
“It’s true,” Will insisted.
But Mac wasn’t convinced. She’d known him too long and too well to be fooled by that lie.
She stood and walked around her desk to meet him on a level playing field. She crossed her arms, unimpressed. “Billy...”
He just stared right back at her. “Plus, it occurred to me the other day, we’re well into that final third year of your contract.”
Shock shot through Mac, followed by an insurmountable bubble dread. “I guess we are,” she said hollowly.
“And I know you like change,” Will continued, sensing somehow that things might not be going like he wanted, but unsure as to why or how to stop it. So he figured he may as well continue, “Hell, you said it yourself on your first day at ACN. When was the last time you ever signed a contract for longer than three years?”
Mac shut her eyes against the pain and tried to stop her shoulders from sagging. “Seriously, Will, if this is a hint...”
Will strode across the room until he was standing right in front of her. “No!” he insisted.
Mac opened her eyes and dropped her arms to her sides. “Okay.”
But Will could tell at a glance that she didn’t believe him. “Fuck, Mac!”
Mac could feel irritation mixing in the pain. “Well, what were you expecting me to think?”
“That... That...” Will paused, not quite able to say it. Not so directly at least.
“That what?” Mac pressed, desperate for an answer (almost any answer would be better than what was pounding through her own brain).
Will ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “There are three things I’m supposed to say to you,” he tried to explain. Three big ones at least. He’d counted.
Mac wasn’t sure why that made it worse, but it did. Was it wrong for her to want him to want to say things to her as opposed to feeling a sense of obligation? “Supposed to?”
“According to Jack,” Will grumbled.
“Jack?” Mac asked, to mixed up to make the connection.
“Dr. Habib,” Will told her.
That caught her attention, made her pause in her panic. “You talk about this with...”
“Of course I talk about you with my psychiatrist,” Will growled. “Who else am I going to talk about?”
“I don’t know, some other woman who fucked up your life!” Mac snapped, not sure why was trying to provoke him. Scar notwithstanding, she’d finally started feeling like the ground was getting a little bit stable under her feet (maybe even under their feet), and now she was feeling vulnerable all over again. So she did what she always did when she felt exposed, she reacted with sarcasm.
“That’s not what I meant!” Will all but yelled, wondering when yet another conversation had gone off the rails. They’d been doing better lately; he’d thought that maybe they’d be able to get through this. That he’d be able to... Fuck. He could deliver fucking verbal oratory on air without a prompter; why couldn’t he string a coherent sentence together when it came to how he felt about her? Will could practically feel the waves of hurt rolling off of Mackenzie now. If she hadn’t wanted to leave Newsnight before, she probably would soon if he kept on like this.
He took a deep breath. “Okay, time out!” he ordered. “Just time out. Just, please. Give me a second. I... I said this wrong. I didn’t... Let me say it better. Okay Mac? Just... just give me a second.”
Mac forced herself to calm down, tried to be a little less defensive. That was the problem with royally fucking up your life. You tended to assume everything bad that happened was your fault. If he wanted to explain, she’d let him.
“There are three things that I have to say to you,” Will murmured, trying not to fidget with his pockets.
Mac decided I have to was better than I’m supposed to.
“Three things I want to say to you,” he muttered (Mac decided that was best of all). Will’s next breath was audible, but he forced himself to look her in the eye. “One, I like working with you; you’re the best producer I’ve ever had. The only one I can imagine working with long term, because no one else is as good. You know that. Two, I like our show. I like making our show. I want to keep doing that. With you. If you want to. I know I can’t.. I mean, I know it’ll be your choice. I’m not trying to force you into or, or make you feel obligated or... whatever. And, three...” Will paused before just deciding the hell with it. “Three, apart from all that, I’d like it if you stayed in New York. I like... I like that we’re friends. I like having someone around who instinctively understands things like the importance of moving things around in the control room just to screw with Don before the 10 o’clock. So, uh, yeah. I guess I just wanted to say that we’re friends, and, and, I like it when you live in the same city as I do. There, that’s all.”
To Will’s shock, his declaration caused Mackenzie to drop her chin to her chest and burst into slightly hysterical laughter. Laughter that got more hysterical by the second as her shoulders started to shake and her sobs became mixed in with it. Will tried not to retreat into himself at the sound.
“You idiot!” Mac managed to catch her breath long enough to choke out, looking up at him with an absolutely incandescent smile (and tears running down her cheeks).
Will barely had a second for his confusion to register before she’d launched herself at him, her arms wrapping around him like a vice. “You complete and utter idiot!” she said again, sobbing in relief.
Will tentatively wrapped his arms around her, patting her on the shoulder. Maybe, for once, he’d managed to do something better than he’d originally thought.
“How can someone with such a big brain be so stupid?” Mac sobbed into his neck and punching him in the shoulder (before soothing the abused area as she wrapped her arm back around him).
“Hey!” Will objected, turning slightly into her hair. “I hardly think that...”
Mac overrode him. “I thought you were sounding me out because you were leading up to telling me that what with my contract coming up for renewal, now might be a good time for me to think about finding another job! Maybe leaving and going back out in the field and, and... leaving. You idiot.”
Will was pretty sure he actually was an idiot if he’d managed to give her that impression. Though he wasn’t quite sure how it’d happened, and was also fairly certain she was at least halfway to blame (not that he said any of that). Instead he just tightened his arms around her a little and leaned his head against hers. “I was trying to see if you were thinking about a change,” he tried to explain.
“Idiot,” Mac muttered again into his shoulder.
“Well, how was I supposed to know you wanted to stay?” Will asked helplessly.
Mac frowned and pulled back. Much as she always enjoyed being in his arms, if he thought that, then they needed to get something straight. Right now. “Billy, this is our show.”
“I know,” he assured her. “I know you love the show, Mac...”
She stared at him. If he knew she loved the show, then why had he thought she wanted to leave? “Do you?”
Will tried to explain. “I just thought, you know, I thought you might be looking for another challenge. That’s all.”
“Okay, well, first of all, you’re challenge enough for anyone,” Mac assured him.
Will tried to roll his eyes, but wasn’t quite able to.
“And second of all, you look at me Billy. Look at me, and listen carefully. Let’s get one thing straight right now. I love this show. I love this newsroom. I love being an executive producer, your executive producer. I love that it’s in my job description to kick your ass when you need it. I love that I get to be in control of you for an hour...”
“No kidding,” Will muttered under his breath, slightly frightened by the feeling of his heart racing in his chest.
Mac ignored him and kept going, determined to drive her point home. “I stuck it out through the first few months when I thought you were going to fire me literally every week. I was there on the days when you could barely stand to be in the same room as me, let alone actually speak to me. I was there for Casey Anthony and all the other times you got scared of the ratings. I was there when you were high on the air. I was there when Leona tried to fire you. I was there through your idiot plan to put Brian in our newsroom. I was there for all of it. Did you not see me.”
“I did,” Will assured her quietly.
But Mac was on a roll. “Do you really think I’m going to leave now that things are actually working? I love Newsnight. I love our show. This is the best job I’ve ever had. And I am going to fight for it. And I’m crafty. I’m not going to let it go. They’ll have to pry it from my cold dead hands. The only way you’re going to get rid of me is if you decide you can’t work with me, and you order me gone. Because I’ve stuck it out through all of your shit, Will. There isn’t anything you can throw at me now that I can’t handle. I love our show.”
Will stared at the woman in front of him. This tiny woman, who right now was practically an explosion of emotion and expansive gestures. Who was making a speech like she was ready to lead a battle charge. “I just thought...”
“And yes!” Mac admitted. “Okay, yes! In the past I’ve maybe bounced around a little professionally. Sometimes I maybe even seemed a little indecisive. But here’s the thing Billy, I’m older now. I’ve had a lot of time to think about this. I’ve had three years to...”
Will froze.
And all of a sudden Mac turned quiet. Quiet, intense, convincing. “I’ve had a lot of time,” she said again, her eyes never leaving his, barely blinking. “I had lots of time to think, and I thought about a lot of things. Then, when I was done thinking, I made some decisions. They took time. But I made them. I know what I want. Being a field reporter was incredible. But it’s not what I want anymore. I want to be an EP. I want to run a newsroom. I want this show. I want... this life. And I’m stubborn, Billy. Very stubborn. You know I am. Once I make up my mind, it stays made up. And my mind’s made up. I know exactly what I want. I want Newsnight. And I’m sure.”
Will could only stare at her. His throat was dry and he swore he could hear the blood rushing through his ears. He found his voice somehow, “So, if I handed you another three year contract right now?”
Mac didn’t even falter (though she could feel the adrenaline starting to wear off now). “I’d sign it in a heartbeat.”
Will concentrated very hard on ensuring his hands weren’t trembling. “The lawyers might want to be involved, never mind your agent.”
Mac just shrugged. “They can work out the details amongst themselves. You’re stuck with me.”
Will finally let himself breathe. “Okay.”
“Although, I’m not signing anything that lets you fire me at the end of every week,” Mac replied, deciding that she did have one demand. Just a little one. “That nonsense is done.”
Will chuckled. “Great! Maybe I’ll get my three million dollars back.”
“I’d focus more on that non-compete clause first, Billy,” Mac suggested dryly.
Will could only agree. “Yeah.”
“Yeah.”
Then it was Will’s turn to frown slightly, realizing there was at least one more thing to be said. “I don’t want to fire you every Friday, Mac. I already told my agent to make sure they got rid of that next time around.”
Mac’s face lit up into a smile. “When did you do that?”
He waved a hand absently in her direction. “I don’t know, six months ago, maybe.”
“Billy...” she murmured. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He shrugged, not really wanting to get into it. She knew he wanted her to stay now, that was enough. “I wasn’t trying to suggest you should leave, Mac.”
She tilted her head up. “So you said.” His numbered list of things that he had actually wanted to say had charmed her, even apart from the words themselves. For some reason she liked the idea that he’d planned out what he wanted to say to her. Sure, in the end he’d made a mess of it anyway, but the idea that she mattered enough for him to plan...
“Yeah.”
Mac’s grin turned teasing. “You want me to stay in New York on a personal level?”
Will saw the amusement on her face; he pulled her back against him so he couldn’t anymore. “Yeah.”
She sighed. “Me too,” she murmured.
And with that, Will finally felt himself relax.
“Hey! We should celebrate!” Mac said suddenly.
Will looked down at her indulgently, in his current mood he was perfectly ready to go along with just about anything she suggested. “What did you have in mind?”
She frowned, considering the hour and what was still open. “I’m guessing you haven’t eaten yet.”
“You’d be guessing correctly,” Will told her.
Mac bit her lip. “Steak sandwiches at the all-night diner down the street from my apartment?”
Will smirked. “You going to buy?”
“Hey! You’re the one who’s hoping for an extra three million in their next contract!” Mac reminded him.
But Will had a comeback ready. “You issued the invitation!”
Their argument lasted the entire way to the restaurant.
xxx
“So who paid, in the end?” Habib asked.
“She wouldn’t let me,” Will admitted. “So I bought her waffles the next morning.”
“Of course you did,” Jack muttered under his breath.
“What?” Will asked.
“Nothing.”
“Okay,” Will replied, deciding to let it slide. “Anyway...”
But Habib realized he did have a question after all. “Wait, waffles?”
“Sure,” Will replied.
Habib just stared. “Waffles?”
“What’s wrong with waffles?” Will asked innocently.
Jack shook his head. “Nothing’s wrong with waffles, but aren’t those usually a thing you buy someone when you’re meeting up for breakfast, or at least eating breakfast together?”
“We were eating breakfast together,” Will explained neutrally.
Habib just blinked. “You were?”
“Sure,” Will confirmed. “Well, okay, it was probably more like brunch.”
“Brunch?” Jack repeated.
“Yeah. With our schedules, sometimes meals get a little off-kilter,” Will explained. “And if lunch is sometimes at three, then 11 has to be something else.”
“Elevensies?” Jack suggested.
Will just stared at the younger man. He shook his head. “Anyway, by the time I got into work the next day, Mackenzie was already all fired up about something or other...”
Or just excited because she’d found out that one of her secret fears wasn’t coming to pass, Jack thought to himself.
“And I’ve seen what that’s like,” Will continued. “She forgets to sit down and eat. So before she saw me, I went back downstairs and got her waffles.”
“Right,” Jack murmured, wondering if Will honestly thought this was something most peopled did for their ‘close colleagues.’
“The good ones,” Will assured the younger man. “With strawberries and chocolate on them.”
“No whipped cream?” Jack asked dryly.
But Will just shook his head. “Mac doesn’t like whipped cream.”
Jack found himself smiling. “I assume she liked the waffles though.”
“Yeah, though she had the nerve to lecture me about my cholesterol while we ate them,” Will complained. “There was fruit on them and everything!”
“Oh well, in that case.”
“Shut up.”
Jack bit his tongue just in time. He’d been close to asking Will how many meals he thought he shared with Mackenzie in any given week on average. But Jack also didn’t want to make the anchor defensive.
Instead he decided to gloat a little. “So, turns out Mackenzie didn’t want to leave Newsnight at all.”
“Don’t push it,” Will warned. “I already admitted you were right when I came in here.”
Jack supposed he had. Still he had one more question. “Do you believe her?”
Will turned pensive. He glanced out the window. “You didn’t see her,” he said eventually.
“No,” Jack agreed.
Will continued on as if he hadn’t spoken. “Because if you had, you wouldn’t have asked that question.”
Jack nodded, even though Will wasn’t looking at him. “Will?” he said after a moment.
“Yeah?”
“You might want to remember what she looked like,” Jack suggested.
Will looked over at him, the question obvious on his face.
“For later,” Jack explained. “Just in case.” After all, he knew the anchor would have his doubts from time to time.
Will tensed, but after a moment he nodded.
His point made, Jack decided it was a good time to shift the subject a little and ask Will about his general health.
After all, Jack was sure there’d be plenty of time to come back to the subject of Mackenzie later.
xxx
TBC