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She had seen the weather reports; they had caught her eye because having the weather on her network air irked her to no end. It was severe enough to warrant the EP on whatever daytime show to run the warning twice. The interns had been jumpy. All of the signs had pointed to the fact that the impending ice storm would be substantial. Why then, Mackenzie asked herself, was she surprised that the building was now black? At least the control room was black; no emergency floodlights had been installed here. Mac was certain that there was at least a modicum of light in the newsroom.
“Mac?” Will’s voice was tentative in the darkness, but Mackenzie jumped anyway.
“I forgot you were here,” she offered with a shrug, the gesture lost in the darkness.
“Why won’t the door open?”
“What do you mean ‘why won’t the door open’?”
“I mean,” he began, and she could hear him trying to inject patience into his tone, “that the door doesn’t seem to want to open.”
By rote muscle memory and sheer panic, Mackenzie crossed the control room to the windowless door. Her fingers closed around Will’s as she reached for the doorknob. She clasped his fingers and removed them from the mechanism before tugging on the door with her free hand. It rattled just enough for Mackenzie to understand that it wasn’t going to open.
“It’s supposed to open when the power goes out. It’s a safety feature.” She hadn’t let his fingers go, relishing the feeling of safety that the contact leant her in the darkness.
“Well, Mac, I hate to tell you that I don’t think this particular safety function is currently operational. The maglock is engaged rather than released.” He reached for the latch at the top of the door with the hand that wasn’t being held by Mackenzie’s, frowning when he found it fully enclosed. “At least there’s not a fire,” Will offered under his breath. “Then we’d really be in trouble.”
“Will!”
“I just meant that we’re not in the worst possible situation.”
“Still, maybe just… don’t.”
“I’m sorry.” He pulled his fingers from Mac’s death-grip, flexing his fingers once before lacing them through Mackenzie’s in a more comfortable position. She squeezed lightly. As someone rapped loudly on the door, the pair sprang apart, jerking their hands from the comfort of the other.
“Mackenzie?” Neal’s voice came through the closed door. “Are you in there?”
“Right here, Neal.” She somehow managed to infuse reassurance with a hint of annoyance, Will noted with a smile. “The door won’t open.”
“Yeah.” The tone that Neal was using told Mackenzie that Neal knew more about the situation than she did.
“You don’t seem to be surprised that I’m stuck in here.”
“Yeah,” Neal said again. “We can’t find Will, though. Maggie’s afraid he’s stuck in an elevator.” Neal snorted a little as he spoke.
“Right here, Sampat,” Will fired through the door with just enough indignation that Mackenzie had to fight back a smile.
“Found Will!” Neal bellowed down the hallway. “He’s in control with Mac.”
“What’s funny about being stuck in an elevator? Huh?” Will drew Neal’s attention back to the dark control room. Neal stammered for a moment before Mackenzie clasped Will’s fingers again and squeezed in an effort to keep him from egging Neal on.
“Neal, can you tell me why I’m—why we’re locked in the control room?”
“It’s actually really straightforward. And they’re coming on Tuesday to fix it.”
“Tuesday is several days from now, Neal,” Mac interjected.
“No, yeah. It is. The maglock is installed, though, reversed. It’s electrical and computer programmed, and really, I could tell you, and you wouldn’t care or understand. Basically, you’re stuck, but I’m working on it.’
Mackenzie’s fingers gripped Will’s tighter as Neal rambled on. Stuck didn’t suit Mackenzie. Stuck in the pitch-black really didn’t suit Mackenzie.
“Stuck for how long, Sampat?” The panic edged into Mackenzie’s voice, and Will instinctively placed his hands firmly on her shoulders.
“Just breathe, M’ckenzie,” he murmured close to her ear.
“An hour?” Neal sounded uncertain. “Maybe two.”
“Two hours?” Mackenzie’s voice was shrill now.
“I’m on it, Mac. I’m going now.” Neal’s voice faded as he sprinted away.
“See to it, Neal!” her voice was a yell at this point, and Will could almost hear her heart beginning to race.
Will knew the tone well. It was the harbinger of a full anxiety attack. In the dark of the control room, they had none of the mediation tools that helped to bring Mackenzie back from the edge of the emotional cliff on which she was precariously perched. Almost none, Will thought.
“Mackenzie,” Will’s voice was low. When she didn’t respond, he tried again. “Mac, can you hear me?” He turned her to face him and heard the rattle of her breath. “You’re okay. You’re safe. You’re with me.” He infused calm energy and a note of seduction into every syllable. Her breath caught, and he knew that his words were finally reaching her.
In a single, fluid movement, Will pulled Mackenzie’s body tight to his and brought his lips down to hers. For a breath, she was too stunned to react. And then, she yielded, her body melting into Will’s, her mouth parting beneath his. Mackenzie reached for Will’s shoulders, anchoring herself to his solid weight. She knew his intention: to stem the rising panic she was experiencing. She gave herself over to the moment, though. If he was willing, so was she.
For a time, they explored each other, relearning the taste and feel of the other. When a deep moan rumbled through Mackenzie, Will turned them around, pushing Mac against the door. His hands tangled in her hair, tugging her head to the side to expose the soft skin of her neck. He kissed his way down her jawline; as he reached her neck, he bit back a grin at the feel of Mackenzie’s legs leaving the ground and encircling his waist. The panic was gone, leaving them at a crossroads—Mackenzie paused, debating the wisdom of continuing the assignation. Her pause was met with Will’s words.
“You’re going to kill me, woman,” he growled into her neck.
“What a way to go,” Mackenzie offered, breathless. She ground her hips into him, finding him hard beneath her.
“Mac,” he growled in warning, flipping open the first button on her shirt. “Is this the place?” She responded by grinding into him again, chuckling deeply at his groan.
“What kind of question is that? Is the control room the place? You’re certain I’m not hallucinating this?”
Will ran his tongue lightly over Mac’s bottom lip.
“Feels real to me.” He punctuated his statement by returning his attention to her neck and then to her collarbone.
A second button on Mac’s blouse gave way, and Will began to toy with the top of her bra. Mackenzie’s head dropped back, fully leaning on the door.
“Will,” she exhaled his name with need, teetering now on the edge of a far different cliff than she had been when Will had taken her into his arms.
The pair were lost in the moment, fully engaged in each other. Neither heard the scraping of metal on metal as Neal began to dismantle the locking mechanism. Neither Will nor Mackenzie heard the magnet release. Neither was aware of the sound of the maglock disengaging as Neal finally succeeded in breaking through the mechanism until the door suddenly gave way.
Mackenzie crashed backward to the floor, and Will tried desperately not to fall on top of her. He came to rest partially atop Mac.
“Fuck,” Will said, immediately searching out Mac’s eyes. “You alright?”
Mackenzie began to giggle and then to laugh out loud. Her mirth grew, ensnaring Will until they both lay laughing on the floor.
“What in the name of Mary, mother of Saint Swithins, is happening here?” Charlie’s voice boomed from the dim light of the space into which Will and Mac had fallen.
“We, uh, we got locked in control, Chief,” Will said, clambering off Mackenzie. He reached for her, grabbing her hand gently. “And Neal—who I will deal with later,” he tossed over his shoulder with extra volume, “did something that I can only assume will need to come out of your paycheck, Charlie, to get us out of there.” With minimal effort, he hauled Mackenzie to her feet.
“Mmmm. And you’re on the floor; why?"
“Strictly speaking,” Mackenzie interjected, “we’re not on the floor anymore.” In what she hoped was under cover of the semi-darkness, Mackenzie fastened the buttons on her blouse that had come undone under Will’s fingers.
“Strictly speaking, that door is coming out of your check, McHale.”
“I guess I can cover it,” Will said, angling himself to put Mackenzie partly behind him.
“Leona can cover it,” Charlie said with a note of finality. He stepped closer to Will and Mackenzie. “Everything alright here?”
Will turned to Mackenzie and studied her face for a long moment. Finally, she gave him an almost imperceptible nod. He turned back to Charlie and smiled.
“Yeah. I think everything’s alright here.” Will slid an arm around Mackenzie, feeling his stomach flip when she leaned into him. “I think everything’s alright for the first time in a long time. “