AN: This came to me the other night and wouldn't shut up until I wrote it down. Pure fluff.

Disclaimer: So very not mine. If they were mine Jeff Daniels would always wear that deep blue shirt he wore in the finale.

"Taking Care of Mac"

Mackenzie McHale felt like shit. It was unfair, really. Her body always did this. As soon as she had any kind of break from work, she immediately got sick. A whole week off and she was stuck hobbling around her flat blowing her nose, sneezing, and occasionally acting like she was going to cough up a lung. It was, needless to say, very sexy.

Mac was just entertaining thoughts of hauling herself up to make some tea when her doorbell rang.

She sighed and hauled herself to the door instead, all the while wondering who it could be.

She peeked through the peephole and groaned. Will. She really didn't have the brain power to verbally spar with him today. Maybe he'd just go away.

"Open the door, Mac. I can hear you wheezing in there."


Mac caved and opened the door to her dashing and infuriating anchor.

Will took one look at her and sighed. Her nose was all red, she was without her usual makeup, and the look on her face read, "Kill me now."

"Jim told me you were sick and I brought you some invalid provisions," he said, holding up the shopping bags he was toting.

Mac stepped back to make room for him without saying anything.

Will moved straight into her kitchen and started filling her kettle. "I brought you some of that vile tea that you like to drink when you're sick."

She leaned tiredly against the counter and watched him putter around her kitchen as though it was his own. She was always amazed at how he managed to be sweet and an ass at the same time. "Thanks… I think."

He pulled out some food cartons. "Are you hungry?"

"No appetite."

"Maybe later then." Will tucked them into her fridge. "Chicken Scallopini." He paused and tilted his head. "You still like that, right?"

A small smile flickered across her face. "Yeah," she replied.

He smirked her favorite smirk. "Good."

Her kettle shrieked and he poured some water over the teabag in her favorite mug. "Drink this and I'll be back in a minute." He took one of the bags and vanished into her bedroom, but she couldn't muster up the energy to be affronted or to try and stop him. Instead, she did as he commanded and drank her "vile" tea. You know, he was right, it really was vile. But it made her throat feel better and the steam helped her sinuses.

Will reappeared as she finished her tea. "All of your muscles ache, right?"

She squinted at him. "How'd you know that?"

He leaned on the door and crossed his arms over his chest. Mac couldn't help but notice how good he looked in the blue button down shirt he was wearing. He brought her out of her reverie when he said, "Remember that time when we finally got that weekend off and we were going to go to the Hamptons and live it up? You got sick and were so sore you could barely move."

That had been about six months before the dread call from Brian Brenner and all hell had broken loose. She nodded. "Yes, I remember."

Will nodded. "Well, I brought you something that will make you feel better. You'll also love it when January rolls around and you can't get warm."

A little of her usual spark came out when she said, "What the hell, Will?"

He took her arm and guided her into her bedroom. "It's a heated mattress pad and so much better than an electric blanket that you can kick off in the night. Here's the remote, so you can adjust the temperature. It's warmer down by your feet and cooler up by your head. Get in!"

Mac smirked at him. He was just like a kid on Christmas, but instead of finding a Red Rider BB gun under the tree, he was giving it to her instead. He pulled back the covers and she almost wept when she got in the bed. The heat permeated her aching body and some of the tension left her. She may have moaned.

Will smiled at her reaction and sat down next to her. "Nice, right?"

"Very nice. Thank you, Will." She gazed up at him. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

"Well, in spite of everything we've gone through, I still hate to see you in pain."

She smiled a real smile up at him and laid her hand over his. "Is that what the message said?"

Will stopped to think for a second. "In a way," he hedged. "Now sleep, Mac. I put some orange juice in your fridge. Drink a big glass when you wake up."

Mac rolled over and snuggled in. "Yes, Dad."

Glad she was feeling good enough to tease him, he stood up to take himself home. Just as he was rounding the corner, her voice caught him. "I mean it, Will. Thank you."

He smiled to himself. "You're welcome, Mac. Take care of yourself."

Mac mumbled something inarticulate as she drifted off to a healing sleep.