Title: Her Majesty's a Pretty Nice Girl (But She Doesn't Have a Lot to Say)

Fandom: The Newsroom

Pairing: Will/MacKenzie, Don/Sloan

Rating: T

Summary: The morning after Valentine's Day 2014, Don and Sloan become someone's first visitors.

"Oh my God, wake up," Sloan says excitedly, shaking Don.

"Huh?" he asks groggily. After a quick glance at the clock – "It's 5:30 in the morning. Come back to bed." It's February 15 in the middle of a snowstorm, and they're holed up in a warm hotel room at the Carlyle the morning after a particularly, um, adventurous Valentine's. As it stands, they've only been really asleep for about three hours, and Don thinks he's still a little drunk on champagne and Sloan Sabbith.

(One of those will go away after a cup of coffee; the other never will.)

"Mac had the baby. We have to go."

"What?"

"Look at your phone. Six pounds, three ounces, 19 inches, Charlotte Morgan McAvoy."

He does – there's a picture of a squishy baby on Mac's chest, her mother beaming a happy, exhausted smile. "Cute. Visiting hours won't be for a while – if they even want visitors yet."

"Don," she barks. "The presents are back at the apartment. I think we have a good shot at being picked as the godparents, and I don't want to do anything to jeopardize that. We have to go."

He sits up now, admiring her beauty even in her half-dressed, angry state. She's picking up clothes that had been hastily strewn across the room last night, including his new gray tailored suit jacket that she loves on and loves even better off. Don's been dressing better ever since Sloan came into the picture; even when she's not refusing to let him wear a wrinkled flannel shirt to work, he's trying to look the part of someone who should be seen with Sloan Sabbith.

He's been trying for over a year now to be that person, and he's pretty sure he's getting close. Close enough to convince her to stick around a while, which brings him to—

"Get over here," he laughs. She complies, standing beside the fluffy hotel bed, not surprised when he pulls her down onto it, onto him. "Can we please have one more hour of just the two of us before we have to leave this hotel room? It's so warm here."

She rolls off of him just long enough to get herself under the covers and snuggle under his arm. "Fine, but it's snowing, and it's going to be a bitch and a half to get a cab, so no longer."

She raises her left hand to admire her new piece of jewelry, an oval diamond in a rose gold setting with a pave band.

"Do you really like it?" he asks, almost timidly, burying the question in her neck.

"I love it. I mean, I basically picked it out, so of course I love it."

He looks up, confused. "What do you mean, you picked it out? I'm pretty sure you weren't there."

"Oh, honey, I told Elliot, Will, and Mac exactly what I wanted when we started talking about getting engaged. No offense, but you've been wearing the same pair of jeans since I met you – I wasn't going to leave this up to you and you alone."

He laughs. "I feel like I should be offended, but whatever."

"See? You are going to be a very good husband."

"I'm going to try," he says, leaning over to kiss her squarely on the mouth. It's not perfect because they're both smiling, but then he pulls the covers up and over their heads, and it becomes much more serious.

Two hours later, right on schedule for when visiting hours begin in the maternity ward, Sloan is knocking on the door to Room 524, while Don stands behind her, arms full of presents. They see Will immediately, sitting in a rocking chair in the corner with his arms full of baby; his hair is everywhere and there are bags under his eyes, but he looks lovestruck as he inspects his daughter's tiny hands.

He looks up at their knock. MacKenzie is asleep, so Will acknowledges Don and Sloan with a finger and tries to ease himself out of the chair. He's an awkward new dad, physically unsure how to support Charlotte's head and get himself out of the chair at the same time, but he manages.

Softly, he wakes Mac up, pointing to their friends in the doorway. "Charlotte's first visitors."

(Covertly, Sloan high-fives Don.)

"Hey, guys. You didn't have to come so early," Mac says wearily. "Not exactly how anyone plans to spend their Valentine's."

"Are you kidding? I would have been here as soon as you texted if anyone would have let me. Can I hold her?"

"Wash your hands first," Will says. "And wash them really well – I don't know where your hands have been."

She goes to the sink while Don sets the presents down and shakes Will's hand, peeking into the blankets in his arms. "Congratulations, man. She's beautiful."

"It's a hell of a thing," he agrees. "Mom over there did all the work."

"You guys look really happy," Don says, stroking two tentative fingers over Charlotte's tiny head, which is covered in fine brown hair. "You deserve it. And Mac, you look entirely too beautiful for someone who gave birth seven hours ago."

"That's sweet, but you're a liar," she says with a laugh.

Will gives Don an amused shake of the head – he gets it. He agrees. He's even more besotted with his wife than he was a day ago. They're a family now, in a new and different and wonderful way.

Sloan finishes washing her hands, then comes over to kiss Mac's cheek and accept Charlotte into her arms from Will.

"Hello, tiny girl," she says, slightly swaying back and forth. "I think it's too early to tell who you're going to look like, but let's hope it's your mom."

She winks at Will, who just says, "I don't know if you think you're offending me, but I'm hoping she looks like my wife, too."

"Sloan's just full of wiseass this morning. She told me about your little diamond conspiracy."

"Oh, my God!" Mac whisper-yelps. "Did you ask? Let me see!"

Sloan comes over to show her the ring, she herself still distracted by the baby in her arms.

"I'm so happy for you," Mac says. "Here's my only advice – do the big wedding thing if you want, but eloping has the same end result and is way less stressful."

"And try not to go to jail on your wedding night," Will suggests. "That's important."

"Who even cares about the wedding right now?" Sloan jokes. "You gave someone life."

"Yeah, and it only took two hours of pushing and six episiotomy stitches."

"The name is a nice tribute," Don offers, changing the subject. "He would have liked that."

"Well, this one basically owes her life to that man," Mac says. "If Charlie hadn't brought me in for News Night … well, I don't know what my life would be, but it wouldn't be this." She cranes her head up to see her daughter's face, who has one tiny hand pressed against her mouth. Charlotte yawns, unimpressed by how close she came to never being born. She will never know a world where her parents aren't together, open in their affection for one another.

Sloan smiles.

MacKenzie watches for a moment, happy and proud, before she finally just says, "You know what? I'm sorry, but I'm just going to have to pull rank here and ask for her back. I know that's rude, but I need her."

Sloan doesn't argue, just lowers the baby into her mother's arms. MacKenzie isn't practiced in holding babies, but she looks very natural with this one, fussing over her blanket and bringing her up to her face so she can breathe her in. She presses her lips to Charlotte's little forehead and then asks Will, "Do you think she's cold? I think she might be cold."

"There's a clean cap in our bag," he suggests, moving for Mac's Louis Vuitton duffel before explaining, "Seven hours old, and she already managed to get poop all over her first outfit."

"Only because Will failed at his first diaper change," Mac says. Will brings the little white knit cap over and lovingly, carefully pulls it onto Charlotte's head.

Sloan starts to feel like they're intruding a bit, like this time is too precious for her and Don to be a part of. So she takes a step back, grasping for Don's hand, the promise of their future together suddenly spreading out in front of her. She twists her engagement ring, feeling ready, and leans her head against her fiancé's shoulder.

"I kind of want to count her toes again. Is that weird?"

"You just said you thought she was cold, so why don't you leave her bundled up?"

"You're right."

"Go ahead and do it – I know you want to … See, there you go. Ten toes. She's perfect."

"We're going to head out," Sloan says, "but open our presents before we do."

"I'm sorry, guys," Mac says. "I promise we'll have you over once I'm less obsessed with her."

Will scoffs. "How long will that take?"

"I've heard age two is difficult."

Don moves the presents to the bed and Sloan instructs them to start at the bottom of the pile. There are a few soft, cozy onesies and rompers and a dress that's too fancy for a baby to ever need. The next box is full of books she won't be able to appreciate for a few years: The Giving Tree, Make Way for Ducklings, and an old hardback version of Charlotte's Web.

On top of that is a small, hastily wrapped box, tied with a simple grosgrain ribbon.

"A family heirloom," Sloan says simply, as Will lifts the lid. He's confused for a second, looking down at the strip of fabric. After a second of touching the striped silk, he looks up at Sloan in recognition, suddenly choked up.

"I've had it for a while, but we figured she should have a little gift from her namesake. You know if he were here, he'd be spoiling her rotten."

"That's very sweet … I don't know what to say," Will says.

"It's a beautiful gesture," Mac agrees. Then she gives a sidelong glance at her husband, asking one of those unspoken spousal questions that he answers with a nod.

"We actually have a favor to ask," Will starts, a little awkwardly. Mac offers him the baby back, whom he takes and brings over to where Don and Sloan are standing.

Sloan squeezes Don's hand – this is it.

"Neither of us has family here, and we were wondering if you two would consider being Charlotte's godparents."

"All you have to do is hold her at the baptism and make sure the priest doesn't get water in her eyes," MacKenzie says, as if they won't say yes if the job is challenging.

"We'd be honored," Don interrupts. "We're not the most religious people, but we'll keep an eye out for her."

"We'll love her and spoil her and watch her when you get sick of her."

"Thank you for one and two. Three is never going to happen," Mac says. "Will."

"You want her back?"

"She lived inside of me for nine months and now she's all the way over there. Yes, I want her back."

"Fine," Will says, settling Charlotte back into Mac's arms again, leaving a kiss on her forehead. "I tried," he tells their friends. "As soon as you fall asleep, I'm going to steal her, though, and convince her that Dad is the greatest."

"Yeah, OK. I'll feel threatened as soon as you learn to feed her with your body."

"We're going to go now. But seriously – we love all three of youvery much, and we'll see you soon."

"Love you, too, Sloan," MacKenzie says, not taking her eyes away from Charlotte's now-sleeping face.

Will walks them to the door, hugging both of them. "Congratulations on the engagement. Drinks on us once this all calms down."

"So … in eighteen years?" Don jokes.

"I just mean once MacKenzie is ready to unclench her talons. A couple weeks." Will rubs a tired hand across a tired face, looking every bit the part.

"It's nice to see you so happy."

"Thanks, sis."

They say their final goodbyes, and Don watches for just a second longer as Will rejoins his little family, perching on the edge of Mac's bed to stare together down into the bundle of blankets.

"Everyone says you should sleep when she sleeps."

"You're just saying that so you can have a turn."

"I do want a turn, but I'm not just saying that."

"Just … get up here properly and share my turn."

Don follows Sloan into the hallway, grabbing her hand as they make their way out of the maternity ward. Her engagement ring sticks into his hand, and he runs his thumb along her finger. The future seems so tangible for a minute, knowing they will spend some of it watching Charlotte McAvoy grow up. Knowing they could have something similar, if they want. He looks at Sloan, so beautiful and present, and thinks it wouldn't be so bad.

"Do you want to go back to the hotel for a couple hours?" she asks.

"Nah. I just want to take you home."