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Will McAvoy has always been a leg man, there’s no denying that, but he still wasn’t prepared at all for Mackenzie McHale: clipped, crisp vowels, long dark hair, high cheekbones, eyes a man could drown in, and legs for miles.
Almost four weeks ago, she breezed in, introduced herself with a handshake and a very firm, “I’ve been watching the show, I think we can do much better, don’t you agree?” and he was rendered speechless. Never has he been so completely thrown by a woman, but then he’s never met a woman with Mackenzie’s intoxicating combination of beauty, confidence and obvious brilliance.
He has come to love how quick she is in a debate, always ready with an answer, fire behind her eyes when she feels like he’s taking the easy route. She challenges him and it isn’t something he’s used to at all, yet he likes it, he likes her. When Charlie hired her, he told Will he had a feeling she might be the one that sticks, the EP who at last can deal with the legendary McAvoy bluster.
The show has never been better, the ratings are already up in the few scant weeks since she arrived; it’s working, they’re a perfect team and he admits (although only to himself, at this point) that Charlie may have been right about Mackenzie. Will’s only problem (although it’s the most enjoyable problem he’s ever had) is that it isn’t enough, the rundown meetings, the show; he thinks about her all the time and he wants her to be more than his EP. He wants to take her to dinner, wants to make her breakfast, wants her to curl up against him at the end of the day, wants those gorgeous legs wrapped around him…shit, he’s in so deep he can barely think straight.
He’s tried a couple of times to ask her out, well, he’s almost tried, he’s tried to try, which should count for something, but somehow counts for nothing.
Will realised only days after she arrived that unless someone puts food in front of her she exists on coffee and very little else so they've taken to eating together in her office before the final rundown meeting. It means she eats and he gets to sit with her, her voice mesmerising him as she talks.
These dinners are where he has learned snippets about her; she was born in Virginia, moved back to London aged six (the thought of a tiny spitfire version of Mackenzie is almost too much), she hates bananas, her favourite film is Calamity Jane and she’s fluent in Russian and French. He, as is his way, has shared very little of himself. She knows he’s from Nebraska, that he doesn’t understand the point of people buying coffee that has more milk in it than actual coffee, that he could happily survive solely on bacon, that he doesn’t sleep very well; she doesn’t know he thinks she’s the most attractive woman he’s ever seen in real life.
Last night he actually took a deep breath, put down his fork and said, “you know, we should go out for a proper dinner.” She had looked at him for a few seconds, narrowing her eyes slightly and smiling, saying nothing in return, before returning to her salad.
Tonight. He's going to ask her out tonight. It’s Friday, he’ll find her after the show, tell her what an amazing job she did (because she will do an amazing job, she doesn’t seem to know how to do otherwise) and ask her if she’d like to have dinner tomorrow evening, with him, a date. If he has to spell it out, he will. The alternative is another night at home alone, calling her on some work pretence and trying to imagine she was hoping he might call.
As everyone knows, the best laid plans are always the ones that turn to shit the quickest.
Mackenzie is in her office when Will gets there, stuffing a handful of notes into a file which she then slides into her bag. She looks up and smiles when she sees him in the doorway.
"Hey, good show tonight," she says, turning off her monitor and picking up her bag.
"You too," he smiles back at her. "So, I was wondering-"
"Oh, I meant to say, you should come to the bar tonight," she interrupts. "I sort of promised I'd go for drinks with everyone and it would be nice to see you there."
"It would?"
"What?" She frowns slightly.
"Be nice to see me there?" Will asks, realising he's probably missed his chance again. "Of course," she nods, grinning. "Come on, old man, at least just come for one drink." "Well, despite the insult-"
"I'm kidding," she laughs at the look on his face. "With age comes experience, confidence and a certain distinguished appeal. Oh, you know what I mean."
"Apparently I do know because I'm old," he says gruffly but he's smiling anyway.
"I'm not exactly twenty myself, Will." She walks over to him and squeezes his arm lightly.
"Oh God, is this where I find out you're some twenty-three year old prodigy who graduated Oxford-"
"Cambridge," she says, quickly. "I went to Cambridge, but do go on."
"Prodigy who graduated Cambridge when you were barely a teenager, and has an IQ of 250?" he finishes, raising an eyebrow.
"One thing at a time. Firstly, flattery will get you everywhere but no, I'm twenty-nine, for two more months anyway. Secondly, I graduated from Cambridge at twenty-two. Thirdly, I have an IQ of 135," she smirks at him. "Does that cover it or was there more information you needed from me?"
"I think that'll do it for now," he turns and walks out of her office slowly.
"And don't think I'm buying your child prodigy crap either," she calls after him and he turns back. "Do you really think I wouldn't have done my research before I took this job?"
"I don't know, I guess-"
"Well, I did, and I know who the child prodigy in this room is." She moves closer, looking up at him. "So, are you coming for a drink or not?"
"Alright," he smirks, enjoying her teasing tone. "Your gentle persuasion has won me over."
*
They find themselves on huge sofas, surrounded by various staff, most of whom Will is slightly ashamed to admit that he has never been out for drinks with. The few times he has made an appearance at the bar it's been under duress from Charlie, after a suggestion he "spend some time with the damn staff so they don't think you're a total asshole." He can't help feeling somewhat grumpy, this was not what he planned for the evening, he thought by now he'd be at home, drink in hand, sports on TV, thinking about tomorrow's date with Mackenzie. Or drowning his sorrows if she had said no.
He realises he's behaving like an miserable ass, that he may as well have gone home if he's just going to sit here all night on the verge of growling. As he reaches for his drink, his hand brushes against Mackenzie's knee, gently and completely accidentally, but it's enough for her to snap her head up and look at him, biting her lip and smiling slightly shyly before she looks away. Will thinks she's on her third, maybe fourth, drink; there's a faint flush to her cheeks and she feels warm pressed against him, her thigh touching his.
Half listening to a conversation two of the staffers are having about storm chasers, he's startled when he feels Mackenzie's hand on his arm, and he turns to her, eyebrows raised.
"Will," she says, whispering, even though she's moved so close to him that he can feel her breath on his cheek.
"Mackenzie," he smiles at her, nods at her to continue.
"I need to say something." Her fingers tighten around his arm. "It's quite important."
"Then you should say it." He fights a grin because dammit if she isn't even more endearing than usual when she's had a few drinks.
"I think you should kiss me now, before I’m too drunk to appreciate it properly," she sighs and leans against the back of the sofa, all long limbs and doe eyes.
Will looks around the table, hesitates for a second, then stands up, taking Mackenzie's hand. "Um," he realises everyone is looking at him and he falters briefly. "Excuse us."
He has no real idea where he's going other than somewhere away from prying eyes, all he knows is that Mackenzie McHale just asked him to kiss her and that's not an opportunity he is ever going to turn down. Spotting a dim alcove on the other side of the bar, he tightens his grip on her hand and leads her towards it. Pushing her gently against the wall, he cups her face in his hands and runs his thumbs slowly across her cheekbones, before sliding his fingers into her hair, his breath hitching as she sighs softly.
Their lips meet, at first just a touch, soft, tender, sweet; he doesn't think he's ever tasted anything as sweet as Mackenzie tastes right now, the faintest traces of lime and vodka, the rest just her. She parts her lips slightly and he feels her hands slide under his jacket, her fingers tracing patterns on his lower back as he sweeps his tongue slowly across her bottom lip and moves a hand to the back of her neck. Seconds in and he's completely lost, all he can feel is the softness of her lips, the hint of urgency as she pushes herself closer to him, her tongue battling with his. He was pretty sure this would be the kiss of his fucking life and he loves it when he's right.
Pulling back eventually, he smiles as her lips try to capture his again and she moans in frustration when she fails.
"So…" He leans back towards her and kisses her again, briefly but with such tenderness that she sighs.
"Wow," she breathes against him, smiling softly as she pulls back to look into his eyes.
"Yeah," he returns her smile, swiping his thumb across her bottom lip.
"I was right," she murmurs. "I'd have been so mad if I'd been unable to properly remember even a second of that."
"I've wanted to kiss you for...well, since-"
"Since I first arrived and you tried to pretend you weren't looking at my legs?" she cuts in, moving a hand from his back to rest on his chest.
"I obviously didn't do too good a job, did I?" he asks, looking sheepishly at her. "Not in the slightest but, bless you for trying. It was...sweet."
"Would it be presumptuous to think that if I asked you to have dinner with me tomorrow night, you might say yes?" he asks, pushing her hair behind her ear.
"You're asking me out on a date?" She runs her hand down his chest, her smile getting wider. "We eat together before the show every night and you've never said-"
"Seriously?" he interrupts, shaking his head. "Just last night I said something along the lines of 'we really should go for a proper dinner' and you totally ignored me."
"I thought that was your way of saying you were bored with the same deli every night," she says. "It certainly didn't seem like you were asking me out."
"Mackenzie, if I was just bored with the damn deli, I'd have just said 'let's order from somewhere different tomorrow'," he lets out a short laugh.
"Well, now I know," she smiles. "For one so smart though, you're not always entirely clear. You probably should know that, if nobody's ever told you."
"Wait," he pauses, narrowing his eyes at her. "You knew I'd been wanting to kiss you since about twenty minutes after you arrived but you still didn't get that last night I was trying to ask you to go out with me?"
"I knew you wanted to kiss me but I thought you wanted to...I mean, I didn't know if you just wanted to, you know..." she bites her lip and glances down at where her hand still sits on his chest.
"What? You thought what?"
"I thought maybe you just wanted to sleep with me. I didn't know you wanted to take me to dinner. You're a handsome, successful, sexy guy, women must be hurling themselves at you, and I didn't know if that was just what you did, you know, with your EPs," she pauses, wincing. "That sounds awful, shit, I don't mean to imply you're some kind of, I don't know what, fuck, I'm sorry-"
"Hey," he interrupts, smiling at her. "Clearly my moves are not as smooth as I thought but that aside, and shit, don't get me wrong, I would be fucking overjoyed if you ended up in my bed, but...I like you, Mackenzie, a lot, and I would really like to take you out."
"Oh God, I'm such an idiot," she closes her eyes and takes a breath before continuing. "I have a really great track record with men who are total arseholes and then I accuse a perfectly decent guy of just trying to get into my pants when he actually wants to take me to dinner. Run for the hills, McAvoy, I won't think badly of you."
"First off, any man who doesn't treat you well is an idiot, a complete fucking idiot. Second, I'm not that easily put off, not when it's something I really want. So, how about I go back to I would really like to take you out to dinner tomorrow. You and me, together, a date. Clear enough?"
"Crystal," she leans forward and kisses him one more time. "And yes, I'd love to."