Fic; A Glass Half Full, Half Empty
Title: A Glass Half Full, Half Empty
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Characters: Mackenzie, Sloan, Will, Jim, Maggie, Don. Mentions of Will/Mac, Maggie/Don, Jim/Maggie and Sloan/Don.
Summary: The tale of how Will ends up with two women in his bed is one Jim likes to bring up often. It starts with a party and ends with two hangovers; and none of the three people involved have ever been willing to say more. It goes a little something like this.
The tale of how Will ends up with two women in his bed is one Jim likes to bring up often.
It starts with a party and ends with two hangovers; and none of the three people involved have ever been willing to say more.
It goes a little something like this:
---
Sloan's pretty convinced that you could take over the universe from Will's apartment.
It's all slick and shiny and has buttons on random walls that she's afraid to touch. She walked past one earlier and her finger had lingered a second, but then Will had stalked up to her with a glare and she'd skittered before he could reach her.
She and Mackenzie have taken refuge on the balcony where the cool autumn breeze is blowing and she can't remember if the wine glass in her hand is her third or forth. The New York skyline is spread out before them and looks spectacular in the night; whenever she looks out over the railing she feels like she's floating on a magic carpet through the city, the hustle and bustle of cars and pedestrians are all tiny ants below.
"We could take over the world," she murmurs, and Mackenzie hums beside her.
She has a martini glass dangling from her fingertips and Sloan doesn't know how many she's had either. They're both a little past tipsy and in that delightful space where everything is wonderful and possible. There's music playing from a room adjacent and friends and co-workers are squashed all around them; this is the first time she's ever been to a party at Will's and it's possibly the most magic night she can remember.
"This," she tells Mackenzie, pointing into the air dramatically, "This is a rager."
"A raver."
She cocks her head to the side. "Did we ever decide what it was?"
Mackenzie looks mournful. "No."
"What ever it was, this is it," Sloan implores.
"My glass is empty."
Sloan stops abruptly, startled by her friends interruption. Mackenzie looks more glum than enchanted and that's impossible because tonight is magical, and their view is like a flying carpet over New York City (that is actually Will's balcony) and Mackenzie can't be upset because Magic Carpet, duh.
"I think Neal was making more?" she offers.
Mackenzie glances in through the large windows and then shrugs her shoulder, but she doesn't move.
"I always loved this view," she whispers, and Sloan has to strain to hear her.
It hits her then that Will probably hasn't moved in the last how ever many years. Meaning this was the apartment that he had when he and Mackenzie dated. Meaning this was the apartment that...wow. That's awkward.
"That's awkward," she tells Mackenzie, in case her friend didn't know.
Mackenzie snorts, but nods, bringing her martini glass to her lips and then whines when she remembers it's empty.
The night has taken a dive towards the depressing and Sloan doesn't like the heavy feeling Mackenzie's mournful face is causing in her heart. Magic Carpet, she thinks, but then nudges her shoulder against Mackenzie's.
"We need more alcohol."
"Yes!" Mackenzie's voice is perhaps too loud.
The pair make their way back through the large group of people. Mackenzie ignores them all with a single minded determinedness, but Sloan tries to smile and nod and only hurries along when they pass Don and Maggie in the corner - she and Jim have spent the better part of the evening glaring at the pair but she refuses to let them dampen her spirit.
She finds Mackenzie with her glass already half full, leaning heavily against the breakfast bar whilst Tess chats at her. Kendra is by her side and Sloan slips in between them, holding her wine glass out.
Mackenzie fixes her with a glare that plainly says get your own, but she relents at the last minute and twists to grab the bottle of red. It's just as well, because Maggie is wandering towards them and Don is trailing behind. Sloan takes a swig from her now full glass and then risks glancing his way. He unfairly good looking - all dark lines and smokey eyes - and then they sweep towards her.
An electric current hot wires up her spine, but the moment is lost because the girls are giggling and Mackenzie is now wearing a faint blush.
"What did I miss?" she demands.
Silence; and Sloan always forgets that she gets blunter when she's drunk. Don is picking at a cheese plate in the corner and studiously avoiding her. Maggie is beaming at the group.
"Nothing."
"Kenzie," she whines, but her friend remains tight lipped.
"Anyone know where Will is?" Jim interrupts. He approaches the group around the breakfast bar and leans around them, searching. "I need a pair of scissors and a blindfold."
Sloan doesn't want to know what's happening.
She doesn't need to ask, either, because Mackenzie swivels in an instant and pulls a pair of scissors from the third cupboard down and a folded dish towel from the fourth.
"How did you...?" Maggie starts and then Don hushes her gently. Tess and Kendra share a look. Mackenzie is quiet but shrugs, handing the items over, and Sloan can't help but think how horrible this must be, being in someone's apartment when once upon a time you knew it by heart - had shared it.
She must have had countless dinners cooked in this kitchen, countless nights spent on the lounge and in his bed and they must have done so many things together. She brings her wine glass to her lips, contemplating the loss, and the words slip out completely by accident. She's 100% blaming the wine.
"The two of you totally fucked in this kitchen."
She doesn't mean for anyone to hear.
Tess splutters and Maggie giggles helplessly. The boys just look uncomfortable and Sloan refuses to meet Mackenzie's gaze until her friend sighs and replies, unabashedly, "Yes."
Don and Jim jump as far back from the bar as possible and then all the girls are giggling as they disperse, a drunken mess of hiccups and flailing hands, but for the first time all evening Mackenzie's eyes are a little brighter.
"I'm sorry," Sloan gasps, but even Mackenzie's giggling now, and then Will walks through the door and there's no hope for them; he startles and looks at Mackenzie, who hides behind Sloan's shoulder, who's slumped over her glass. Will blushes faintly - no doubt he's pieced together some of the conversation - and then turns on his heel and runs.
---
It's past midnight and Sloan has figured out the exact combination of books to pull from Will's bookcase to open the secret door to his underground control unit. She's going to take over the world from there one day. Mackenzie can be her advisor and Will, her second in command. Maybe if Don gets his head out of his ass she'll allow him to come along as her assistant.
She lost Mackenzie about half an hour ago when Jim and Will had pulled out the guitars - she's not heard them play, another of her many regrets following the Bin laden night - but Mackenzie had wanted some fresh air instead so they'd gone their separate ways.
The boys have finished, however, and Mackenzie is no where to be seen. She's not on the balcony and Sloan is only half worried, because Lonny has assured her that Miss McHale has not left, meaning she has to be here somewhere.
Unless she's fallen through a secret door.
"Kenzie?" she calls across the large group, now a little concerned and collecting a few glances.
She stumbles around a corner and is about to start pulling books from shelves when the light from Will's bedroom catches her eye. She doesn't want to intrude, because even she's aware that its rude to enter someone's room without permission, but the need to find Mackenzie ends up weighing more than the need to stay out of her bosses personal space and so she flattens herself up against the wall and tip toes forward.
Mackenzie is lying fast asleep on his bed, curled tight in a ball and snoozing softly.
Sloan stifles the noise rising in her throat and bites her lip, smiling.
Because Will is seated by her side and softly stroking back her fringe.
He turns quickly, glancing at Sloan, and she gasps. She was sure she was hidden. "I'm sorry," she stumbles, stepping out from the wall.
Will chuckles and waves a hand at her. He's not nearly as drunk as Sloan would have expected. Not drunk at all, she suspects. He brushes his thumb across Mackenzie's brow and then stands, walking towards her.
"She wasn't feeling well, so I told her to lie down," Will explains, rolling his shirt sleeves to his elbows.
Sloan glances down at her feet, but then lifts her head boldly. Her head is swimming and she's always been too blunt; especially whilst drunk. "Do you still love her?" she demands.
Words come from her mouth without processing through her brain - she's sure that's the problem - but at the same time she's pretty sure she's never needed to know something so desperately. It's written somewhere in the code of best friends that you must vet all parties interested beforehand.
Will takes a deep breath, clearly startled, and then he either is drunk, or certain Sloan is, or really really stupid, because he says, plainly, "Yes. I do."
He steps around her towards the main room and Sloan is left standing awkwardly, stunned.
"Don will come around," he tells her, and the breath rises quickly through her lungs, threatening to overpower.
Without turning to face Will she nods once, and then hears him leave.
She's frozen to the spot, but her insides feel like jelly, so she stumbles forward and sits on the edge of the bed. Mackenzie's feet are somewhere by her side and when she pats them awkwardly they curl up under the covers.
She should sleep, Sloan thinks, tipping forward on the bed. She'll just lie down for a minute. Her head is swirling but it's no longer pleasant and she can't help but think of Don's eyes skimming down her body earlier whenever she closes her eyes. She feels tingly and alive and heavy hearted all at the same time and its too much to think about this late in the evening. And Will's bed is so bloody comfortable.
She giggles softly because now she can tell her sister she's slept in a rich, famous mans bed.
"Night Kenzie," she mumbles, and curls up a top the covers.
---
The next morning Will stumbles into his bedroom and finds them asleep. Sloan is starfished in one corner and Mackenzie has curled herself in a tight ball tucked beneath the sheets.
He chuckles softly and then wanders back into his kitchen. He's sure they'll need water, and aspirin, and coffee.
It's going to be one hell of a morning.