Archive of Our Own

Mary Sunshine didn’t really have friends. 

Sure, there were her coworkers. And some of her neighbors. But she didn’t really know any of them, not like she felt she should know a friend. She’d never really found that “spark” with anyone.

She’d just been so busy with her job - traveling around Chicago, writing several articles a day, trying to get promoted, making connections - that she didn’t really have time to make close friends. 

And she wasn’t hopeful either. This seemed like it would continue on indefinitely into the future. Which she was completely fine with. Completely. 

Until Mr. Billy Flynn sauntered into her life.

Mary had first seen him at a trial she’d been reporting on in her early days of journalism. His personality was magnetic, even back then. He’d expertly dizzied the judge, jury, and prosecution, leading them to the inevitable conclusion like it was a dance he knew well. He’d treated the courtroom - indeed, all the world - as if it was a stage and he was the star. She could almost hear him singing. 

As the trial continued, she’d continually found her eyes drawn to him, no matter who was talking. Every movement of his exuded confidence, a complete control of the world, an ease which she longed to capture in her writing.

She’d tried for hours after the trial’s end, scribbling sentences and half-formed thoughts on scraps of paper, one thought beginning before the last ended. But she never quite managed to reproduce his swagger, his charm. 

No matter. It was only a matter of time before she’d see him again. She was sure of it.

Mary had continued to see Mr. Flynn at various trials, each of which he won. He had an impeccable track record and his prestige grew quickly. Clients were known to wait nearly a year until he was available. She was lucky enough to be able to follow his journey through the years, always watching from the reporter’s box. But she never managed to get close. Oh, she tried. She was always the first in the crowd of reporters that mobbed him after every trial. But he never spared her a second glance, waving her away with the rest of the journalists. 

She tried not to feel dejected. 

She would always go home anyway and spend another few hours attempting to capture him in writing. 

It would always be impossible.

Mary reflected on this as she leaned back further in her chair at the nightclub. She’d just been promoted at the Evening Star  and was hoping to be one of the first reporters to see the Kellys’ new act. But the champagne was flat and she was getting impatient waiting for it to start. 

She felt a hand clap her on the shoulder and a familiar, confident voice said, “You’re Miss Sunshine, right?”

Mary froze, barely believing her eyes as Mr. Billy Flynn pulled out the chair next to her and sat down. 

Billy. Flynn.

He continued talking, oblivious to her state of shock. 

“You’ve just been promoted to head reporter of the Evening Star , right? I like to keep track of these things. So I know who I’m dealing with in the press box.”

Mary blinked, hand clutched around her pencil. 

Mr. Flynn raised an eyebrow as the silence grew.

She snapped out of it at once. “Oh, yes! I was just promoted. At the Evening Star . Ah, you knew that. Um. I’m hoping to do more trial reports in the future. Yes. Trial reporting.”

“Well, that’s good to hear. Could always use more talented reporters.” He leaned back, glancing up at the stage, then down to her champagne glass. “And what brings you to the nightclub this evening?”

Talented- “I, well, you see, I’m reporting on the Kellys’ new act. I’ve heard it’s very good, although they’re a little late tonight…”

Mr. Flynn laughed. “I heard there might be some trouble.”

Mary’s gaze sharpened, looking straight into his eyes. “Trouble? With what?” She readied her pencil.

He returned her gaze calmly. A small smile crept across his face as he noticed her open notebook. “Well, it wouldn’t do any good to give all my secrets away for free, now would it? I think you’ll find out soon enough. See you around, Miss Sunshine.” And with that, he downed the rest of her champagne glass, stood up, and sauntered away.

Mary stared after him for a while, dumbfounded. Mr. Flynn, the Mr. Flynn, knew her name and had just come over to talk to her. She reached for her champagne, barely registering that it was now empty.

As the Kellys - well, just one Kelly - took the stage, she was still thinking about him. 

And even as the police arrived, she found herself still scanning the club for a glimpse of Mr. Billy Flynn.

What was the world coming to?

Mary had been interviewing some of the inmates of the Cook County Jail for several weeks now, even managing to get a few questions in with Velma Kelly. After that article, her standing in the journalism industry had increased even further, rocketing her straight to her hoped-for trial reports. But Mr. Flynn had not shown himself at the courtroom for several weeks. Not until Roxie Hart.

Roxie had been arrested for the murder of a Mr. Casely, but no one knew the details yet. Mary, along with many other reporters, had been invited to a press conference with Roxie and Mr. Flynn to get their side of the story. As they entered, Mr. Flynn greeted them with a sweep of his hand.

“Good day, ladies and gentlemen of the press. Miss Sunshine. I’m sure you’re all here to hear about the story of poor Roxie Hart.”

Mary almost didn’t hear the next words out of Roxie’s mouth. Her brain was still stuck on Mr. Flynn acknowledging her. She scrambled to take out her notebook as Roxie began answering questions. 

As the press conference got underway, however, she noticed things. She noticed how Roxie’s answers seemed to have Mr. Flynn’s voice behind them. Almost as if… he was puppeting her every move, was the best way she could think of to describe it. It was strange and a little unsettling as she looked closer at the faint seams at the edges of the ruse. Obviously, he wasn’t really puppeting her, but there were moments here and there where, if she paid enough attention, she could see the carefully rehearsed act showing through. 

Mr. Flynn caught her astute gaze and winked. 

Mary instantly looked away, scribbling frantically in her notebook about nothing at all. But as she glanced back up from under her curls, she caught the ghost of a smile on his face. She felt privy to a secret few could see, a secret Bill- Mr. Flynn had trusted her with. And she felt the connection between them spark.

For a few days, Mary rode that high. She continued to get close to Roxie (and, by extension, Mr. Flynn) whenever possible. After all, that Hart girl was the hottest little jazz slayer since Velma Kelly! However, that was all overturned in an instant when some girl named Kitty murdered her husband and his secret lover - in bed!

Mary rushed to the jail, desperately hoping to get an interview with Kitty before the rival reporters got there. But as she arrived, there was already a crowd of people around Kitty and- Mr. Flynn. Huh. She hadn’t known he was her attorney.

She pushed closer, yelling questions, but quieted as Mr. Flynn raised his hand. “Ladies and gentlemen, settle down. My client will be happy to answer all your questions later.” 

Kitty bit him.

Mr. Flynn yanked his arm back, “Ow! Will you stop biting! I’ll get hydrophobia!” 

Mary eyed Kitty warily. What kind of girl bit people?

Kitty snarled at the reporters. “I’m not answering any more stupid questions! Do you know who my father is?” A prison guard emerged to drag her to her cell. “He owns all the pineapples in Hawaii- let go of me you chunk of lead!” 

Mary winced as Mr. Flynn continued. “As I said, she’ll be ready to answer your questions later. And, in the meantime, I’d be happy to give you an interview myself.” 

Was it just her imagination, or had Mr. Flynn looked at her specifically during that last line? She shook her head and cleared out with the rest of the reporters, not daring to hope. 

Mary stayed in the lobby of the jail for a while, hurriedly writing in her notebook. She noticed out of the corner of her eye when Mr. Flynn emerged from the other room, tagged closely by Roxie. She couldn’t help but get up and surreptitiously sidle closer.

“-care about pineapples? When’s my trial date?!” Roxie practically screeched.

Mr. Flynn looked distracted, glancing around as if looking for something. “Yeah, yeah Trixie.”

Velma Kelly stormed through the door, “Billy, didja get my trial date? Billy-”

He continued looking around. “Yeah, yeah, Velma. I’ll get to it.” Mary was so caught up in what he might be looking for, she forgot to think of who he might be looking for. His eyes fell on her.

“Oh Miss Sunshine! Can I call you Mary? How about that private interview I promised?”

Mary didn’t even register the betrayed expressions on the girls’ faces as Mr. Flynn - Billy? - approached her. “Oh! Of course!” She couldn’t keep from smiling.

He smiled, “How about someplace a little… less crowded, then?” He aimed a glare at the other reporters not-so-sneakily listening from around the room, then led the way outside. 

They walked in silence for a little bit before he gestured to a bench. Mary sat, and Mr. Flynn followed suit. 

“Now, look, Mary, what you gotta understand- Can I call you Mary?”

Mary considered what she was going to say next, then decided to go for it. “Only if I can call you Billy.”

Mr. Flynn laughed. “You drive a hard bargain, Mary.” He paused to look at her. “I accept. Now, look, I feel like you’re one of those reporters I can trust. You’re not going to twist my words around, make me say something I didn’t, right?”

“Of course not.” She smiled innocently. “Unless you want me to.” 

Billy laughed again, a short, sharp bark that was so unlike the slow chuckle he used in the courtroom. “I’ll keep that in mind. Now, that Kitty girl. Her family’s from old pineapple money - her father owns half of Hawaii! Or so she says… Don’t print that.”

Mary nodded, methodically getting the information down - minus that last statement. “Yes, sir.” 

“Billy.”

“Uh- Billy.” Old reporting habits die hard. Mary glanced back up at Billy, who continued.

“Now, her side of the story is that she came home and found her husband in bed with another girl. In her rage, she shot both of them. Now, here’s how I’m thinking of pitching it to the press: A rich girl, she came to Chicago and was wooed by every man from here to the lake. But she only took the one she’d thought was the most honest, the most caring. When she came home that night-“

Mary interrupted him. “Si- Billy? So you don’t want me to print her side of the story?” 

Billy looked panicked for a second. “Oh, no, no, no. I gotta put my…finishing touches on it before it’s printable. If I want to win my case, that is.” He furrowed his brow, looking intently at her. “Ever since I first saw you in that press box, I thought you could see through it all. Through all the… glitz and glamor to what it really was underneath.” There was a pause as Mary processed this. 

Billy sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “Maybe I was wrong.”

Mary scrambled to say something. “No, no! I get what you mean! I don’t know if I’d say see through , exactly… But, I suppose I can tell it’s an act. Like, like… all the world’s a stage and you’re the star.” The words gushed out. “Like you’re leading the whole courtroom through a dance you know like the back of your hand, but they’re dizzy and off-balance the whole time, while you’re in control. And it always ends, inevitably, exactly where you always knew it would.” She glanced back at him.

Billy looked at her in wonder. “Mary… that’s beautiful.”

She shrugged. “I don’t think I quite do you justice.”

There was another pause as Billy considered this. “You know, sometimes this whole city feels like a sham. All built on lies and deceit. It’s… refreshing to have someone who sees straight to the truth.” 

“Well, I wouldn’t say I saw straight to it until Roxie’s press conference. It was like I could see the seams at the edges of an act. They’re very subtle, by the way. I wouldn’t worry about other reporters noticing,” she assured him.

“That recently? Well, that explains why you haven’t published it all yet.”

“Oh, I don’t plan on publishing anything! I wouldn’t ruin your career like that.”

Billy looked at her, then glanced down at her notebook. “Are you sure? I’ve gotten a bit carried away in this conversation. I’d hate for it to go public.”

Mary closed the notebook and tucked her pencil away. “I’m sure, Billy.”

He seemed to relax, like an extra weight had been taken off his shoulders for the first time in years. “I guess I don’t have much choice but to trust you at this point.”

She laughed, a bubbly sound that cut through Billy’s heavy sigh. “No, not really.”

He smiled back, and awkwardly paused before asking. “Look, I know you just put your notebook away and everything, but, that interview?”

Mary inhaled. “Oh, yes, obviously.” She quickly brought her notebook and pencil back out, and dutifully wrote down Kitty’s life story - finishing touches and all. 

As the interview concluded, Mary writing down the last few tidbits she could add to her article, Billy moved as if to walk away, before pausing and turning back to Mary.

“Hey, Mary.”

“Yes?” She looked up at him, standing several paces away.

“Let's get a drink sometime.” 

She smiled. “I’d like that.”

Billy nodded at her once before turning back around and strolling away. 

As Mary watched him leave, another reporter came running up, almost bumping into him.

“Mr. Flynn! You gotta come quick! Roxie fainted!” 

Billy tensed up, turning towards the reporter. Mary could tell he was thinking a mile a minute. “Fainted?” He took off running back towards the jail. Mary grabbed her things and followed, although her heels were not made for running.

They arrived quickly back at the jail, where they pushed through the crowd of people surrounding Roxie, who seemed to be just coming to. “Mr. Flynn? Miss Sunshine? All you reporters?”

Billy crouched at her side instantly, trying to make sure she was alright. “Roxie. Roxie, what happened?”

Roxie smiled slowly. “Oh, it’s nothing. Except. Well. I’m going to have a baby .” 

The entire crowd of reporters gasped at once. Mary scribbled frantically, trying to commit all the details to memory. This certainly put a new spin on things.

Billy yelled over the crowd of reporters, “I want the best doctor in the city for my poor client!”

Mary made eye contact with him. He held her gaze as he took a deep breath before turning back to the rest of the reporters. Billy looked completely in control, as always, but Mary noticed his eyes kept darting around the room, and he was very subtly fidgeting with the edge of his pocket. Roxie’s announcement had shaken him - it wasn’t something they’d rehearsed.

Mary left with the rest of the reporters as Billy and Roxie exited. As she wrote down a couple of last details, she felt a smile creep over her face. She was getting drinks with Billy Flynn. She was getting drinks with Billy Flynn . 

Another reporter nudged her. “You sure look happy. Great story, huh?”

“Yeah,” she said absentmindedly. “Great story.”

Billy was incredibly busy handling Roxie and her baby announcement. Mary had only seen him once since the announcement a few weeks ago, at a public press conference. She’d been at the front of the crowd, and one of the first Billy called on.

“I don’t see how you could possibly delay the trial another second, Mr. Flynn! My readers simply wouldn’t stand for it.”

“I can assure you she’ll come to trial at the earliest possible moment. And you can quote me on that.” 

There hadn’t been any time after the press conference to see him. Mary fought the growing doubt in her gut that he’d ever really wanted to get drinks with her. He was really so very busy right now.

The day for Roxie’s trial came. Mary was positioned at the front of the press box, raring to go. As Billy entered, though she tried futilely to resist it, her eyes were still invariably drawn to him. His confidence was the same as always, his movements fluid and precise. Completely in control.

Amos came to the stand, declaring he had divorced Roxie. Billy instantly launched into his dance, twirling Amos around and around and convincing him the child was his all along and, no, of course he didn’t want to divorce Roxie, why would he ever do that? Mary almost laughed at the purely naive, confused expression on Amos’ face as he struggled to process the fast-moving courtroom dynamics. Eventually, he left, delighted at the thought of his child and completely unaware he’d just been played like a fiddle.

Roxie was next and the prosecution didn’t stand a chance. Though the baby announcement had thrown Billy off initially, he’d since found several (admittedly very easy) ways to spin it in Roxie’s favor. 

As Roxie recounted how Fred had abused her, Mary couldn’t help but wonder what the real Fred Casely was like. This story obviously wasn’t true - this time she could easily tell exactly which parts were false, either because she was getting better or Roxie just wasn’t a very good actor. Either way, Mary secretly reveled in the feeling of sharing the secret with Billy again. 

Finally, Billy made his summation to the jury. His way with spoken words was truly astounding, although secretly she thought she could still outdo him in writing. He whirled the entire courtroom along with him as he recounted Roxie’s tragic story, her awful relationship, her impossible situation. He dazzled them with his heartfelt plea for Roxie to be saved because by God , doesn’t she deserve another shot! By the end of his speech, everyone was breathless. 

The jury stood to give the verdict. The room silenced completely. And as one of the jury members opened their mouth- 

Another reporter came running into the room. “Guys! There’s this divorce action and this babe shot her husband, his mother, and the divorce attorney! There’s blood all over the walls! What a story!”

Mary was already writing as she was swept up by the rest of the reporters. She knew what the ending to Roxie’s trial would be: Billy Flynn never lost a case, and certainly wouldn’t lose this one. But a triple shooting, right outside? Mary had a once-in-a-blue-moon opportunity with this story, and she wouldn’t pass it up.

She slipped through the crowd of people easily, quickly making her way out of the courtroom and to the scene of the crime, already considering her future article.

She never noticed how he tried to wave her down, then chase her through the crowd. She didn’t see when he got caught in the throng, futilely still trying to get her attention. 

She wasn’t there when Billy Flynn was left alone in the courtroom, speechless as he watched Mary Sunshine leave.

It had been several weeks since Roxie’s trial and, by extension, several weeks since Mary had seen Mr. Flynn. There had been no press conferences, no trials, no communication at all. Mary had given up hope on ever getting that drink.

Mary was decidedly not thinking about how Mr. Flynn had ghosted her and then she’d run out of his trial and then-.

She was not thinking about it. 

So here she was, back at the same shitty nightclub, reviewing a performance by some no-name girl. 

Her champagne was flat. 

She started forcing herself to write something, anything on the performance. The outfits were nice. The girl had a decent voice, and- 

She felt a hand clap her on the shoulder as Mr. Billy Flynn sat next to her.

“Miss Sunshine.”

She inhaled sharply, “Mr. Flynn.” She wasn’t sure yet if this feeling in her stomach was good or bad. 

There was a pause as they both took each other in.

Mr. Flynn opened his mouth, as if to say something, then closed it again. He tried a second time. “I never got you that drink I promised.”

Mary felt something in her chest squeeze. “It’s fine. I know you’ve been busy.”

“It’s not fine,” Mr. Flynn scoffed. “I got one rule, and that rule is play square . I’m not gonna cheat you out of a drink just because I’ve been busy.” 

“I’ve already got a drink.”

“Then I’ll just get one for myself.” There was more awkward silence as Mr. Flynn ordered a drink and came back to the table. 

“Now, look Mary.” She didn’t know why she was surprised to hear him call her Mary. “I haven’t meant to be avoiding you. I’ve just… never found the time. And I wanted to say-“

“I know it was kind of shitty of me to walk out of your trial,” Mary blurted out.

Mr. Flynn blinked for a second. He’s not used to getting interrupted , Mary thought.

“I…” He chuckled. “Yeah, it kind of was. That was a killer story, though. I read your article.”

“Oh! You did? I was pretty proud of that one.” Mary blushed a little. Hopefully, he couldn’t tell through the poor nightclub lighting. “But the one about Roxie’s trial turned out better, I think.”

“I read that one too.” He smiled knowingly, like he was in on a secret. “You completely made up some of that article.” 

Mary snorted. “What can I say? I learned from the best.”

Billy’s face lit up with a grin. “You sure did. Razzle dazzle ‘em, eh?” Mary shook her head in amusement as Billy continued. “Anyway, I’ve missed seeing you, Mary. I was hoping I’d catch you here again.”

Mary gestured around at the dirty nightclub. “One of the perks of my job. Head reporter, and yet they still send me to b-class shows.” God, it was so easy to talk to him. 

Billy glanced up at the stage, then winced as the girl messed up a dance step. “Well, I suppose there are downsides to every job.”

“Oh? And what are the downsides to yours?” Mary questioned. 

Billy made a noncommittal noise as he drank some of his whisky, promptly spitting it back into the glass. “God, what is this stuff made of?”

“Oh, the stuff here always stinks. My champagne’s flat again, too.”

“Your champagne wasn’t that bad the first time. But this stuff’s awful . Hey, what do you say we get out of this place?”

Mary glanced down at her notebook. “I’ve got enough.” She caught Billy’s gaze and held it as he pulled her up out of her chair. They were almost standing eye-to-eye now; Billy was just an inch taller than her with her heels on. He kept hold of her hand and dragged her through the stale air of the club, past the crowded tables and messes on the floor, rushing them both out into the cool Chicago night. Mary took a deep breath and let the breeze fill her lungs as they fell into a comfortable step together, walking to who-knows-where.

“Billy,” Mary said after a minute of silence. “What were you saying about your job back there?”

Billy gave a dry laugh. “Straight to the deep stuff, huh, Mary?”

“No need to answer if you don’t want to.” She shrugged.

“No, no, it’s fine.” He took a breath and looked up at the stars. “There was this article of yours I read a long time ago… an opinion article.” Mary’s brow furrowed. She didn’t write many opinion articles. “You wrote about how you believed everyone has a little bit of good inside of them. Even if it doesn’t always show.” He turned to her. “I’ve gotten dozens of cold-hearted murderers excused for some quick cash. I’m constantly lying to everyone around me. I -” He turned back away from her. “I don’t know if I have that little bit of good anymore.”

Mary almost laughed. “Billy, of course you do! I mean, sure, not everything you do is morally unquestionable, but that was the whole point of that article. No one’s perfect.”

Billy walked in silence for a couple of steps. “I don’t know. I mean, I enjoy a good show as much as the next man, and when I’m up there in the courtroom… God , I feel alive. But, sometimes it feels like there’s no one I actually tell the truth to. And what’s left when your whole life is a lie?”

Mary suddenly got sincere. “What about me?”

Billy stopped walking and stared at her, his eyes searching for something. “What about you?”

“Do you tell me the truth?” Mary repeated.

Mary could see as the realization slowly came over Billy. “Yeah… I guess I do tell you the truth.” A broad smile spread across his face. “I do. Mary Sunshine, I do tell you the truth!”

She laughed and elbowed him playfully. “Of course you do. You can’t lie to me.”

Billy shook his head in amusement. “You know, you’re a real breath of fresh air, Mary. I like you.”

“You’re pretty nice yourself, Billy.” 

They stood there in the hazy Chicago night for a minute, just looking at each other. Each taking in the face of their first real friend.

Finally, Mary broke the silence. “You still owe me another drink.”

Billy looked confused. “Did that last one not count?”

“No, that one counted. But the first time we met in that club…”

Billy laughed and slapped his forehead as he remembered. “I drank your damn champagne, didn’t I?” 

“You sure did,” Mary laughed. “What do you say we find someplace with decent drinks?”

“I can’t think of anywhere around here.”

“Then let's go exploring!” Mary grabbed his hand and dragged him along with her towards the nearest too-bright sign. As she moved to enter, Billy pulled her back towards him.

“Mary, you know how you said nobody’s perfect?” He paused as she raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Yes?”

“Well, I think you come pretty darn close.”

A huge smile spread across Mary’s face. “Billy, I have been captivated by you since the first damn time I saw you. Let’s go get some drinks.”

“First round’s on me.” Billy declared.

Mary looked fake-offended. “Excuse you, all the rounds are on you, Mr. Rich and Famous.”

Billy looked her in the eyes challengingly and waggled his eyebrows. “We’ll see about that, Miss Head Reporter.” Then he sauntered towards the club. 

Mary didn’t miss when he looked back to make sure she was following.

As they made eye contact, they both felt the connection between them blaze.

And they both thought, simultaneously, Maybe this city’s not so bad with you in it.

Mary shook her head, smiling, and followed Billy into the club.