Summary: Working out their aggression in a coat room somewhere. Mac/Cassidy oneshot.

Disclaimer: No, I don't own them. That'd be cool if I did, though.

A/N: Okay so … Weevil's comment about Mac and Cassidy working out their "aggression" in a coat room put all these lovely images into my head. And I had to write those lovely images because …. Well, Mac and Cassidy are adorable. That's really all I need to know. Drop me a review and let me know what you think!

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And then she tripped.

She let out a groan when her knees hit the cement of the closet and huffed loudly as she adjusted until she was sitting cross-legged on the floor. He let out a sigh from the opposite side of the tiny, box-like room and she rolled her eyes.

"This is all your fault," she accused.

"My fault! How is this my fault?"

"You were the one who couldn't teach Weevil how to do a stupid quadratic equation!"

"Like you were any better," he scoffed.

"At least he can understand me when I try and teach him. Twelve-pack of spark plugs? What the hell?"

"I was trying to put it into his terms."

"Well, that was successful," she rolled her eyes. With a huff, she ran her hands over her knees and winced when her skin burned from the slightest contact. "And now I've skinned my knees. It's kindergarten all over again," she sighed.

Cassidy shifted awkwardly and she glanced up at him, her eyes more attuned to the dark of the closet… mostly. Mac frowned.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly. She frowned again and looked down at her lap. At least, she was pretty sure it was her lap. Without the light from the crack in the door she couldn't see much at all.

"I think I'll survive," she agreed. "Although if we don't get out of here soon I might suffocate," she quirked her mouth and glanced at the door.

"Think Weevil's still out there?"

"I wouldn't bet on it," Mac shook her head. "He's probably forgotten about us. They'll find the bodies a week after graduation and I'll never get to go through the inane ritual of tossing my tassel hat into the air."

Cassidy smiled a little. "There's that optimism I love so much."

"And when life gives you lemons, throw them at 09ers," she grinned. He laughed and she closed her eyes tightly, suddenly very uncomfortable with the idea of being locked in a closet with him.

"So did you even know that Clemmons had a coat room in his office?"

She shook off the feeling and focused on keeping the conversation light. Locked in a coat room with Cassidy Casablancas, a.k.a. her ex-boyfriend: not the ideal time to have a break down. "No, but it doesn't surprise me. The man is a suit freak," Mac shuddered.

"At least he doesn't have the FBI glasses."

"Oh, God," she laughed and leaned her head back. Giggles bubbled up from her throat and she grasped her stomach as the mental image plastered itself in her head. "Men in Black gone wrong," she giggled. Cassidy snorted.

"I always pictured Clemmons as the dog. He doesn't seem like the agent type to me."

"Clemmons, a pug?" She considered this thought for a moment and then nodded decisively. "Sounds about right." He laughed and she could hear him slump down to the floor. She stretched her legs out and leaned her head back against the wall again.

Her feet bumped his and she pulled her knees to her chest hastily.

For a few painful minutes, the only sound in the tiny room was their combined breathing. Mac inhaled deeply and closed her eyes again, letting her legs stretch out in the tiny space that the closet offered her to stretch out. Cassidy's hand fell to rest on her ankle and she tensed.

"So I heard you went to the Alterna-prom with Butters."

"Yeah," she nodded and relaxed a little when he traced the seam of her jeans with his hand. "Wasn't exactly my fairy tale prom experience," she chuckled.

"Why'd you go with him, then?"

"Veronica sold me as an indentured servant; he was the highest bidder."

Cassidy let out a breath and started lightly massaging her ankle. Pins and needles flew up her legs and she tucked her hair behind her ear nervously. She was going to kill Weevil as soon as they made it out of here; and it was going to be slow, torturous, and painful.

"I'm glad you decided to help me tutor Weevil," he said after a moment. A long, unsettling lull followed his words and she mentally smacked herself. "I mean, he wasn't getting it when I tried to teach him, and he wasn't really listening…" he trailed off awkwardly.

"No problem," she returned. "I didn't want him to fail senior year on account of you."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I believe we had this conversation already. Earlier, when I was grading his practice quiz, remember?"

"You are not smarter than me!"

"Whatever you have to tell yourself to feel better," she shrugged. Cassidy worked his hand underneath the material of her jeans and she shivered from the skin-on-skin contact.

"It's algebra, Mac, it's not that difficult," he said calmly. Mac felt her breath hitch and inwardly cursed him for still being able to affect her like this. It simply wasn't fair.

She wiggled her toes in her converse and did her best to ignore the light sparks of electricity that were radiating outward from his fingers and trailing through every one of her veins as she sat there, in Clemmons' coat closet, with him.

Dead, dead Weevil.

"Why do you care if I went to the Alterna-prom with Butters?" The outburst surprised her and she gaped at her own stupidity. What was wrong with her? She opened her mouth to explain the seemingly random question when Cassidy cut her off.

"Obviously you're not as smart as you think." Mac glared at him in the darkness.

"What is that supposed to mean?" she huffed indignantly. "It's a legitimate question; why do you care?"

"Maybe I'm pissed I didn't get to you first," he shrugged and his hand stopped its movement on her ankle. She wiggled her toes again and her cheeks reddened. Another minute of silence passed between them and his head fell back against the wall with a clunk as he continued his ministrations in earnest.

Another moment and her brow furrowed in confusion. "You weren't even there!"

"Dick filled me in," he swallowed.

"Cassidy, what is this?"

"This? Is a coat room," he responded. "Clemmons' coat room, to be more specific." He leaned forward suddenly and started banging on the closet door with his fist. "Dude, Weevil, let us out!"

A muffled rolling sound came from the other side of the door, followed by hollow footsteps and then a reciprocating pound on the door. "You two worked out your issues yet?"

"There aren't any issues to work out," Mac said loudly. Cassidy clenched his fingers around her ankle and she inhaled sharply.

"Right," Weevil laughed, the sound muffled by the thin wood of the door. "Lemme know when you two kiddies have kissed and made up, and I'll let you out then."

Footsteps led away from the door and the large leather chair behind the desk rolled back as Weevil sat back down in it. Mac narrowed her eyes at the door and smacked Cassidy over the head.

"Ow! What was that for!"

"All. Your. Fault."

"I didn't tell him to lock us in a closet!"

"But you were too stupid to teach him algebra! So here I am, with you, when I should be at home studying for my own finals. And, oh yeah, I'm locked in a fucking closet!"

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He remained quiet, thankfully. She didn't want to argue with him about whose fault this situation was. She just wanted to be out of it and away from him.

His hand cupped her cheek suddenly and she jumped, the cloth of a heavy suit jacket hitting her in the head with the action. She grumbled and rubbed at the spot.

"Mac," he said quietly. Her breath hitched and she leaned forward instinctively as his thumb stroked her cheek. Their lips met a moment later and she shivered intensely, lifting her arms to loop around his neck as he pulled her closer.

Pulling away from him slightly, she rested her forehead against his and took a deep breath. They'd somehow managed to maneuver until she was almost in his lap, his back against one wall of the little box they'd been stuck in for the past forty-five minutes.

"I'm sorry," he breathed.

"Good," she pressed her mouth into a thin line.

"There's some stuff you need to know … why I broke up with you, I-"

Mac cut him off with a gentle kiss. "Shh," she shook her head and kissed him again. "Tell me later," she smiled softly. "When we're not in a closet," she added after a moment. Cassidy laughed and knocked on the door again. Weevil approached the closet slowly and she buried her face in his neck.

"Kiss and make up yet?"

"Yes! Now let us out," Cassidy shouted. Mac looked up with a grin. Weevil let out a sigh and the door fell open a moment later. The onslaught of light from the office temporarily blinded her and she groaned as she buried her face against Cassidy's shoulder.

"Great; now does this mean you two are gonna be makin' out in between equations? 'Cause I think I'd prefer the fighting."

She rolled her eyes. "I think we can contain ourselves."

"Good," Weevil nodded and gestured toward the door of the office with his thumb. "I'll meet you back there, then." He smirked at the couple before turning and leaving the room, the closet door open and the lights on.

Cassidy pressed a kiss against her cheek and stood slowly, reaching out a hand to help her up. She smiled at him and took the hand he offered as she stood.

"Ready?"

"After you, teach."