fic: FAST TALKERS
fast talkers
the newsroom, sloan sabbith/don keefer, pg-13
There is no such thing as News Night Without Will McAvoy, Charlie Skinner decides.
nb; originally posted here. prompt: Don/Sloan + News Night is cancelled.
There is no such thing as News Night Without Will McAvoy, Charlie Skinner decides.
Please empty your desks and leave.
On the plus side: she has a job. On the minus: she’ll think of one in a second.
Mackenzie’s halfway to Syria already, Neal’s found himself a niche at CNN and she can begin to see things returning to normal when he appears by her desk.
She quirks an eyebrow. “It seems I am leaving after all.”
“You’re not leaving.”
“I don’t know which particular rock you’ve been underneath for the past week but it may have come to your attention that I no longer have a job at ACN.”
He opens and closes his mouth the way he only usually does when talking about Maggie. So you can imagine her surprise when he says, “You have a job at ACN, Sloan. It starts on Monday.”
She likes working with Elliot. He’s mellower than Will, less conflicted and generally just easier for her to read. He lends her his Gypsy DVD, and she half-wonders what the deal is with ACN anchors and musicals.
Elliot grins when she says this, “You and Don are made for each other.” He says.
It’s a joke. Except it’s not.
Three months pass. She gets her own office.
“I haven’t forgotten what you said, you know.” He murmurs in the doorway. It’s late, after the show and she really doesn’t want to have this conversation now. Or ever.
“Well please try to because these are not circumstances I foresaw and frankly if I had a TARDIS the whole thing would have been wiped from the universe by now.” It all comes out too quickly and she bites down hard on her lip to stem the flow.
He cracks a laugh, and she’s not sure if it’s at or with her. She’s trying hard not to care, either. “You can’t do that. Don’t you remember the episode with the flying time monsters?”
“I have 2 PhD’s, Don, I wouldn’t recommend trying to out-Who me.”
She also has a wicked right hook, but she likes to keep an element of surprise.
She finds herself in Hang Chew’s with Elliot. He’s a poor substitute for Mac, in that his personal life is so mind-numbingly boring they have to talk about hers instead, but otherwise he holds his liquor well and laughs in roughly the right places.
“What happened with you and Don?” He asks, when she finally runs out of Wall Street anecdotes.
“A mistake,” she replies, and it’s not until he smirks that she realises what she said. “Didn’t mean that kind of mistake.”
“You’re alright kiddo. I got you.”
It’s 2012 and she’s not entirely sure how. The ratings are up, and only 41% of Americans don’t know what the debt ceiling is, which she supposes counts as progress. There’s talk, too, of her own show, maybe Will’s old slot, bringing Mac back to head up production and yeah, she’d like that quite a lot.
Her point is: it’s 2012.
Her last show’s the end of March. There’s a cake and a standing ovation, a toast from Elliot to the cleverest fucking kid in town and more applause.
She lets the party flutter away around her, smiles and kisses and handshakes until it’s just Don left.
“Congratulations.” He says, voice low. She’s avoiding his gaze, and trying very hard not to make that fact obvious.
So she pulls a smile at the floor. “Good show tonight.”
A pause. “Sloan-“ He begins, stops.
She looks at him now, instantly wishes she hadn’t because shit the look in his eyes is not something she can rationalise.
She can rationalise what happens next even less. Let’s leave it at that.
end.
the newsroom, sloan sabbith/don keefer, pg-13
There is no such thing as News Night Without Will McAvoy, Charlie Skinner decides.
nb; originally posted here. prompt: Don/Sloan + News Night is cancelled.
There is no such thing as News Night Without Will McAvoy, Charlie Skinner decides.
Please empty your desks and leave.
On the plus side: she has a job. On the minus: she’ll think of one in a second.
Mackenzie’s halfway to Syria already, Neal’s found himself a niche at CNN and she can begin to see things returning to normal when he appears by her desk.
She quirks an eyebrow. “It seems I am leaving after all.”
“You’re not leaving.”
“I don’t know which particular rock you’ve been underneath for the past week but it may have come to your attention that I no longer have a job at ACN.”
He opens and closes his mouth the way he only usually does when talking about Maggie. So you can imagine her surprise when he says, “You have a job at ACN, Sloan. It starts on Monday.”
She likes working with Elliot. He’s mellower than Will, less conflicted and generally just easier for her to read. He lends her his Gypsy DVD, and she half-wonders what the deal is with ACN anchors and musicals.
Elliot grins when she says this, “You and Don are made for each other.” He says.
It’s a joke. Except it’s not.
Three months pass. She gets her own office.
“I haven’t forgotten what you said, you know.” He murmurs in the doorway. It’s late, after the show and she really doesn’t want to have this conversation now. Or ever.
“Well please try to because these are not circumstances I foresaw and frankly if I had a TARDIS the whole thing would have been wiped from the universe by now.” It all comes out too quickly and she bites down hard on her lip to stem the flow.
He cracks a laugh, and she’s not sure if it’s at or with her. She’s trying hard not to care, either. “You can’t do that. Don’t you remember the episode with the flying time monsters?”
“I have 2 PhD’s, Don, I wouldn’t recommend trying to out-Who me.”
She also has a wicked right hook, but she likes to keep an element of surprise.
She finds herself in Hang Chew’s with Elliot. He’s a poor substitute for Mac, in that his personal life is so mind-numbingly boring they have to talk about hers instead, but otherwise he holds his liquor well and laughs in roughly the right places.
“What happened with you and Don?” He asks, when she finally runs out of Wall Street anecdotes.
“A mistake,” she replies, and it’s not until he smirks that she realises what she said. “Didn’t mean that kind of mistake.”
“You’re alright kiddo. I got you.”
It’s 2012 and she’s not entirely sure how. The ratings are up, and only 41% of Americans don’t know what the debt ceiling is, which she supposes counts as progress. There’s talk, too, of her own show, maybe Will’s old slot, bringing Mac back to head up production and yeah, she’d like that quite a lot.
Her point is: it’s 2012.
Her last show’s the end of March. There’s a cake and a standing ovation, a toast from Elliot to the cleverest fucking kid in town and more applause.
She lets the party flutter away around her, smiles and kisses and handshakes until it’s just Don left.
“Congratulations.” He says, voice low. She’s avoiding his gaze, and trying very hard not to make that fact obvious.
So she pulls a smile at the floor. “Good show tonight.”
A pause. “Sloan-“ He begins, stops.
She looks at him now, instantly wishes she hadn’t because shit the look in his eyes is not something she can rationalise.
She can rationalise what happens next even less. Let’s leave it at that.
end.