Gratitude (Mac/Parker, Mac/Veronica; 13+)
Title: Gratitude
Author: simon
Pairing: Mac/Parker, Mac/Veronica.
Rating: 13+ (language)
Word Count: ~1,330
Spoilers: 3x09, “Spit and Eggs”
Summary: Mac’s never been good with affection that’s not disguised as something else.
Notes: I wrote this about a month ago, set it aside, and completely forgot about it.
Parker’s on her computer when Mac comes in. She’s doing something in Word. Mac cranes her neck: a poster? Flyer? She sees “Take Back the Night” and “fundraiser” and if she thinks But Veronica, it’s only for a second. It’s never really over.
Parker doesn’t turn away from the screen: she’s leaning forward, squinting at something. Mac comes up behind her. “Need a hand?”
“Yeah,” says Parker. “It keeps-” She waves her hands at the screen. “It won’t stay. Every time I start typing…”
Mac smiles. “Yeah, you just-here, watch.” Three clicks of the mouse and a tap on the keyboard free Parker from the scourge of AutoCorrect. Parker types a word, experimentally-”Friday”-and it stays put. She turns around and grins.
“Thanks, nerd.”
“No problem, ditz.”
Mac’s not sure when they got comfortable enough with each other to do the fake-insult thing, but she likes it. She’s never been good with affection that’s not disguised as something else.
She walks over to her own desk, flips through a few pages of Algorithms and Data Structures, closes it; picks up a sheaf of typed notes, but puts them down without reading a word. It’s hard to breathe. Just get it over with, Mackenzie.
“Um. Parker?”
“Yeah?” Parker swivels in her desk chair and fixes her eyes on Mac’s, smiling.
“You, uh.” Parker cocks her head, and Mac looks down, braids falling in her face. She can’t seem to make her voice go any louder. “You. You saved Veronica.”
She glances up, just for a second, and sees Parker blush, cover it up with a shrug. “I didn’t, really. I mean-I didn’t.”
“You did. You gave her that whistle, and you came when you heard it, and you-you saved her. She said so.”
“She said that?”
“Yeah.” Mac almost smiles, Parker looks so bewildered, but her stomach’s binding up with nerves. She needs to get through this, soon.
“Well, I mean, I would’ve-I don’t think-” Parker laughs a little. “I don’t really know what to say. What do you-”
“Thank you?” Mac blurts it out, and it sounds like a question. “Thank you. For saving Veronica. I.…” She trails off, face hot, hands fidgeting, a lump in her damn throat. “Thank you,” she whispers, head tilted down again, and she starts wishing she’ll disappear, or burst into flames, or shrink down to nothing, or that Parker will suddenly come down with amnesia, be abducted by aliens. One of us is going to have to jump out of that window, Mac thinks.
Mac can’t stand the silence, so she clenches her jaw and makes herself look the other girl in the face. Parker purses her lips and Mac almost cringes, but it turns into a small smile, and her eyes soften, and Mac is terrified.
“You’re a little bit in love with her, aren’t you?” says Parker.
Mac’s stomach drops to somewhere around her ankles. Maybe it’s a counterweight, because the next thing she knows, she’s on her feet and babbling. “I-I’m not,” she says. “I’m not,” she says again. She opens her mouth to say it a third time, but a voice in her head says Protesting a bit much?, so she closes it, and Parker raises her eyebrows.
“Mac,” she says, and stands, too. “I mean, it’s OK. Veronica’s-well, you know.” Her mouth quirks. “Heck, if I swung that way…”
“I don’t swing that way,” Mac almost-shrieks. Oh, this is bad, this is bad, says her inner monologue. Why did you open your big stupid mouth, Mackenzie? What the hell? What the fuck?
Parker raises her hands and takes a step or two towards Mac, whose inner monologue has devolved to a stream of panicky f-words and variations thereon. Parker lays a hand on Mac’s arm, just above the elbow. “Mac,” she says, and her voice is kind, but there’s a very un-Parker-like no-bullshit vibe to it. “Mac, chill.”
“I just-Parker, seriously. I’m not…” She can’t even finish the sentence, can’t say in love with Veronica Mars, even in the negative: she’s been thinking around it for so long-two years now-her mind can’t seem to lock onto the idea. Not even to deny it.
Parker doesn’t say anything, just looks at her, a presence: her warm hand on Mac’s bare arm; her grey eyes calm, locked with Mac’s own. She’s standing close enough that Mac can smell her shampoo. Mac feels dizzy.
She thinks she might throw up if she doesn’t say something, so she says “Yeah, I kind of am,” and it’s almost like vomiting, really: on one hand, totally awful; on another, totally a relief. She’s so spun around she doesn’t even notice Parker smiling at her again.
“In that case,” says Parker-coyly? Is she being coy? Is she flirting?-”You’re welcome.”
Mac blinks. “Parker, I don’t-”
“Hey, seriously.” Parker steps back, still smiling. Mac’s arm feels cold, in the shape of Parker’s hand. “It’s not a big deal, or anything. It’s actually kind of sweet. And I’m not going to tell anyone.” She turns back to her desk.
Mac groans and falls backward onto her bed. “I just-Parker, nobody knows. Nobody. I didn’t even know, not for a long time. I’m not even used to thinking about it. I try not to think about it.”
“What, like, if you ignore it, it’ll go away?”
“Exactly. Except-you know. It doesn’t.”
Mac sighs. She feels lighter from the honesty, sure, but now it’s out in the open, now she’s talked about it, told someone. Now it’s never going to go away.
“So, I mean-tell me to shut up, if you want-”
“I should’ve told you to shut up five minutes ago,” Mac says, but doesn’t mean it.
Parker laughs. She knows. “Are you-are you bi? You didn’t strike me as gay, but, I mean, you don’t date…”
“I just don’t date. I’m…” What the hell am I? “It’s complicated.”
Mac stares at the ceiling some more. There’s a water spot in the corner that looks like a fractal. Parker’s quiet for a long time. “Yeah,” she finally says. “I hear that.”
Typing sounds: Parker’s gone back to her poster. Flyer. Thing. Typing sounds for a minute or two, a few mouse-clicks, an exasperated sigh, and the bed dips next to Mac. Mac sits up halfway.
“Did you need help again?”
“Fuck it,” says Parker. Mac’s never heard her swear, not even-ever. “I’ll finish it tomorrow.”
Mac falls back on the bed; after a second, so does Parker. They lie shoulder-to-shoulder, looking up.
“I really mean it,” Mac says, wishing she could just let it go. “Just-never mind why? Thank you.”
“Mac-” Parker sounds-imploring. “Yeah. Okay. You’re welcome.”
Mac pushes herself up on her elbow, turns to Parker. Her hair’s growing out; Mac wonders when she’ll stop wearing the wig. She’d look good with short hair, Mac thinks. Parker looks at her, smiles a little. “What are you looking at, nerd?”
This has been, by far, the strangest afternoon of Mac’s life. She looks at Parker, thinks Without you.… Stomach twisting again, in an entirely different way than before, she leans forward and presses her lips to Parker’s, softly, just for a second.
Well. Maybe for a bit longer than a second.
Mac’s surprised she’s not more scared. She feels to-hell-with-it drunk, light-headed, dangerous. Veronica’s safe: not drugged, not raped, not dead. She’s in love with Veronica. She just kissed Parker. Everything looks brighter, sharper. Clearer.
Parker’s looking up at her, mouth slightly open, eyes unblinking-until she closes them, snakes a hand behind Mac’s neck, and pulls her gently down. Mac goes.
The second kiss is softer, longer, a little wetter. It feels unreal. Mac thinks she might be dreaming-and then Parker’s tongue skims along her bottom lip and she’s sure she’s dreaming. She opens her mouth, meets Parker’s tongue with her own, feels a thrill go through her entire body.
It ends, somehow, and they’re back to looking at each other. Mac’s heart is skipping beats, hummingbird-like, and the only breaths she seems to be able to take are shallow ones. She doesn’t know what to say, as usual, so she cracks a joke, as usual.
“I thought you didn’t swing that way.”
Parker makes an oh no you didn’t face. “I thought you were in love with Veronica.”
Mac drops her jaw in fake shock. “Oh, yeah?” She kisses Parker a third time, aggressive, heated, a hand just behind Parker’s ear. “So there.”
“You got me on that one,” Parker giggles.