The Stake

My first season 2 fic! AH! Anyway, just a wee thing to get the old joints oiled again. It has been a while.

I'm back! No really, I know I said that last time, but now I mean back in every sense! I am actually sitting on a train going home right this second! Term is over, coursework and exams are done (all 30000 words and inordinate amounts of stress). But its summer!

Haven't spellchecked, mainly cause I haven't gone to bed for nearly 40 hours (Travelling - I'm not a masochist...though I guess that's a POV). I will though. When I have energy! Enjoy :)

She was livid.

This had been going on for months now, and then he had just decided to play along with– no. No way. He was not getting to do this – she wasn't letting him do this. Or not do this – yeah, that was a better description: not doing it. With everything in her, she was going to through it all at this one last attempt, or she was just going to walk. She can't live like this anymore.

Tapping her foot impatiently, she wonders whether the doorman informed him she's on her way up. After the stupid little stunt with the anti-depressants she knows she's been one of three names on an all-access pass to his apartment, but it's past two and if he has any sense he'll be asleep.

She kind of hopes it's an ambush, but at the same time, she wants him alert and she wants him fighting. Exhaustion and confusion stemming from depleted brain function is not going to be their end.

Finally, hours later it seems, the car arrives at his floor. She can see the sliver of light start to penetrate it as the doors slide back. So he's awake then. Good.

Or maybe he has company? She shivers. She hadn't thought of that. Shit.

Too late now. She can hear footsteps.

He comes around the corner, confused and almost haggard-looking. His hair is tousled and his shirt is open mid-way, his sleeves lazily folded up so they hung just below his elbows; there's a Budweiser in one hand.


"Hi." She said stoutly, deciding that worrying and anxiety stopped here: she came for one thing and she was damn well going to get it. "You got company?"

His eyes widened. "What? No. I –"

"Good. Because you and I need to talk." He actually had the grace to look guilty.

"About?" Her eyes narrowed, a sarcastic smirk crossing her features. He knew exactly what she wanted to talk about.

"Well, Billy, why don't we start with that question I just asked. 'Have you got company', that kind of sets things up nicely. Why do you think I asked that question?"

She was advancing into his apartment, forcing him to retreat towards the sofa.

He was spluttering. Oh good. Just the way she wanted him.

"I – I – Mac –"

Her index finger was suddenly poking rather insistently into his chest and he looked down at it in confusion before reaching her, adorably annoyed, yet intimidating face once more.

"I asked, Billy," She answered anyway emphasis on the 'asked', "Because for reasons passing understanding, my numerous attempts to make you see that I am incredibly, perpetually, pitifully even, sorry for the biggest mistake I've ever made, AND that in spite of what that mistake may suggest, I am completely, irrevocably, eternally in love with you, you seem to be having a rare tear to yourself getting flirty with our lovely new attorney who is trying to kick us all out of our jobs!"

Will' eyes changed at the revelation of what she was actually talking about and out of the corners of her eyes she could see his timid attempt to raise his hands to grasp her forearms, but she knew she wasn't done.

"I mean seriously Billy, I'll understand if you can't do this – really I do, in fact I understand that better than anybody does – even Charlie, I suspect."

She had him again, and she could tell he was ever so slightly impressed with that one. It just showed exactly how well she knew him.

"But if I'm out of the running I'd really appreciate if you just came out and said it, you know? I totally get it, she's mature, she's organised, she's amusing and she looks great, so –"

"MAC!" This time his fingers curled tightly around her wrists, whether intentionally or not pulling them both even closer…he could suddenly feel her breath on his chin, but he wasn't focusing on that. His eyes were locked fiercely on hers as though she had just told him that he couldn't go on air again, if even more intensely. Then he saw it.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he caught a flash of something other than anger or hurt, or annoyance even in her eyes; only then did he really catch on to their proximity. Yes, he could feel her breaths, he could even feel the heat radiating off her body, the pulse under his thumbs; he could even claim to hear her heart thumping away under another of her trademark shirts. Oh she was sly.

It was a slow realization and Mackenzie was loving every minute of it – they hadn't stood this close to each other in weeks and certainly not with such charged intimacy.

"Mac?" he asked again, more softly; uncertain, unsure, hesitant – she thought it was adorable. She couldn't even bring herself to be sad about it. She finally allowed a smirk to curl her lips.

She watched, happiness threatening to burst out of her chest as she watched his eyes come alight in the reassurance of understanding. Stupid man though, lovely, adoring, thoughtful man she could still see his eyes asking permission. She replied similarly.

Gently she was pulled closer to him, tucked neatly into his chest until the only remaining space between them was that tantalizing distance between their mouth and their noses as this ridiculous dance slowly played out the final magical notes.

"You know its her, its not me?" She nods, letting her eyes close s she soaks in the feeling of having him surrounding her once more, nearly shivering at the electricity she feels as their noses brush. "I've been trying to get her to back off. She's a lawyer, she's insistent."

"Well, that I can understand." Mac replied nonchalantly, allowing her hands to run down the arms that held them before they crawl around his waist and clasp again at his back. "I happen to have my fair share of experience with lawyers."

"That so?" He plays along and she grins. Feeling bolder he brushes a scrap of hair behind her ear. "And have you found them all to be boring, testy, careerist snobs?"

"Pretty much." She quips, leaning in ever so closer. "Though there was this one guy…"

"Do tell me ab –" The index finger was back, and this time it was getting him right in the small of the back.

"Billy, this is the point where you're supposed to just shut up and kiss me."


She couldn't help the moan that came as soon as they connected, but he swallowed it anyway as her fingers tightened, clenching his shirt to make sure she wouldn't fall. She could feel the smug grin that curled his face, but as he squeezed her hips – when had his hands gotten there? – she found she really didn't care. Let him have that victory – fair game and he had played it with her rather well. She happily let him pull her closer and wrap her up in that unique warmth she could remember him always having before.

How could she have been such a fool to lose this? Shaking the though off, she pulled herself even closer, her hands sliding up the front of his shirt to curl at the nape of his neck, gently brushing up and down the wonderfully soft blond strands that were standing on end.

"Mac," he began as he pulled back – presumably for air, but Mackenzie wasn't having it. She just whined low in her throat, trying to recapture his lips. Warm hands framed her face, and opening her eyes she found Will staring back at her with a look that she had only seen shadows of for almost seven years. God she had missed it! Except now he was just staring at her…which was fine, apart from the part where he had stopped their kiss and had yet to give her a reasonable excuse.

She tugged his ear, "Billy?"

He pressed a gentle kiss to her palm. "Thanks for coming after me."

She smiled. "You'd have done it yourself…eventually."

"I think you have too much faith in me sometimes." He replied doubtfully, looking at her as though she was one of his superb dishes and he felt like he was missing a vital ingredient.

"You couldn't let me down Will."

"I have –"

"I love you." He stared at her, amazed by the burning ferocity that was blaring from her eyes, her face, even just the way she was standing and leaning into him in that way. She did love him. He could see it without her having to say it – but he was fairly sure his heart had beat as fast as it did when she said it. She clearly took his hesitation for doubt because she pulled him closer and looked imploringly at him.

"I love you Billy, never ever doubt that. Never. Not if we have one of our fights at work, not if someone makes some snide comment about you, or about the show, or about our history; not if we completely fuck up again and implode like we did, professionally or personally – I love you, you got that?"

His lips were on hers again before she could say another word. And she took it as a resounding yes as she found herself being walked backwards until she was pressed tightly between Will and the wall, she couldn't seem to get close enough. Maybe she'd never feel close enough; but as long as she had him, it was enough.

Maybe he was right. Maybe if she had left this up to him to sort through on his own, if she had waited for him, then they might never have made it, but that was irrelevant now because she had changed that.

She had staked her claim, made him hers once more, and the smaller, pettier, more mischevious part of her was excited about the prospect of one day soon ensuring that their interfering lawyer friend was well aware of it.

But that was all for another day. She was here, in Will's arms, he was kissing her and they had now show to put together until Monday. She had plans for them.

Let me know your thoughts, Long Shot Ch. 7 coming up next! :) x