“I hear you are sleeping with the enemy,” Will says. He might well be asking her what she’s having for lunch. She should know, seeing as how that had been the question he asked before this one in exactly the same tone.
Sloan just raises an eyebrow and goes back to eating her sandwich. She knows this isn’t going to be enough to get Will to back off, and she’s right. He plops down in the chair beside her.
“Rachel Maddow. MSNBC. Ring any bells?” Will asks, grabbing the other half of her sandwich.
“Hey, buddy, that’s mine,” she says, batting at his hands. She doesn’t try too hard; he forgets to eat far too often.
“Not anymore,” Will replies, before taking a bite. He give her a triumphant little smirk as he chews.
“Now I’m not telling you anything,” Sloan says. Will just keeps chewing.
“You don’t need to tell me. Mac already filled me in,” he says, once he’s swallowed. “You, Maddow, some cocktails and a baseball game. Baseball games are my thing, Sloan.”
“Baseball games with you and baseball games with Rachel aren’t exactly the same experience,” Sloan says, and then curses herself for giving away that much when Will smiles like a shark.
“So you are admitting to fraternizing with the enemy?”
“I’m pretty sure Rachel isn’t the enemy. Also, I’m pretty sure nothing we’re doing comes under the heading of fraternizing.” Sloan smirks a little as Will chokes for a second on his stolen sandwich. Man deserves what he gets for being a food thief.
“Maddow is the only host of cable news that people trust more than me. She’s wiping the floor with Elliot, and if we were in the same time slot, well, that would truly be a battle,” Will explains.
“Isn’t that what you want, though?”
“A battle?” Will asks.
“A battle of good news? Isn’t that what you want? Because even you have to admit, she does good news.”
“I prefer for us to be the ones doing the good news,” Will says. “Wait, you should seduce her to ACN with our thing and our good news and you.”
“Really, Will. Please think about what you just said for a moment,” Sloan replies.
“Not like that,” he says, waving away the distaste on her face. “Just, you know, tell her about our thing.”
“Trust me, she’s heard all about your thing,” Sloan says, and then pauses for a minute, head cocked to the side. “And that ended up sounding almost as bad as what you said.”
“That time I heard it, too.” Will shrugs. “Wait, you told her about the good news thing and she doesn’t want to come be a part of it?”
Sloan shakes her head. “Rachel is already doing good news. And she has co-workers who are slightly more sane than you.”
Will makes a face and Sloan can’t help but laugh at it.
“Maybe I should take her to a baseball game. She obviously likes baseball, and I do better baseball than you, no offense. I even have Yankees tickets,” Will says, an elaborate plot clearly already forming in his head.
“Will, you are not taking my girlfriend to a baseball game in order to steal her away from MSNBC. Also, she is a Red Sox fan.”
Will grins. “So she is your girlfriend?”
“Yes, fine, Rachel Maddow is my girlfriend, and under no circumstances will you be a) taking her to a sporting event of any kind, or b) attempting to convince her to come work for you.”
“You, Sloan Sabbith, are no fun at all,” Will says.
“I mean it,” Sloan replies.
“Fine, but the next time I see her, we are going to have a little talk.” Will finishes off the last of the sandwich and stands up. “I’ll make her life miserable if she hurts you. I have a national news show, you know.”
“So does she, and let’s just add threatening said girlfriend to that list of things you aren’t going to do, shall we?” Sloan says pointedly.
“Okay, okay. Just, Sloan, be happy. Do that for me, okay?” Will asks, and Sloan is caught flatfoot at his gentleness.
“Yeah, Will, I can do that,” she says, and smiles as he walks away.