I've Had My Doubts (But Not About You), Alicia/Will, G
Title: I've Had My Doubts (But Not About You)
Pairing: Alicia/Will
Rating: G
Spoilers: Through 3x11 'What Went Wrong'
Disclaimer: Rights remain with the Kings and CBS, etc. This is a transformative work and no profit is being made.
Prompt: TGW, Alicia/Will, "There is no such thing as a problem without a gift for you in its hands. You seek problems because you need their gifts."
Dedication: To my wonderful Heidi, who loves good books and knows good romance when she sees it - I tried to honour that with the feel of this? It was a beautiful prompt, and it goes without saying that I wish you the very best Christmas and most dazzling 2012 <3
Working on the weekends is supposed to be the exception, not the rule, but (Diane’s warning is ringing in her ears) there’s work enough to be done, and Peter has the kids anyway. It’s nice to be able to wear jeans, at least, even if she couldn’t quite bring herself to sacrifice the heels. Something about this building makes her feel a need not to be small.
Eli’s office lies empty opposite hers; rumor has it he’s been chasing up old contacts in Springfield and DC. There’s some interesting chatter about who’s going to run for Mayor, and Alicia doesn’t even want to speculate which Chicagoans he’s trying to lure back with promises of glory and the perfect campaign. Still, if it distracts him from Peter and the Governorship, and Alicia’s role in imploding all of that, then it’s probably for the best.
The first hour flies by in sips of coffee and the rhythmic turning of pages. They’ve tried to retain the paperfree ethos of the Bond days, but old habits have been creeping back in now that the firm is relatively calm. Opposing counsel have a habit of providing everything in hard copy anyway, not least because it makes it easier to ‘lose’ pages and cause one annoying delay after another. By the time eleven o’clock rolls around Alicia has found her rhythm - the highlights and her scribbled notes are coming together in a well-argued brief that’s definitely better than some of the hasty patch-up jobs she’s had to submit when cases get right down to the wire.
Time is a luxury, and one she’s forgotten how to enjoy. It’s always file the brief, request the subpoena, find the precedent and on and on until the name on the docket changes, but the work rarely does. (And on top of that it’s avoid Kalinda, check in on Grace, text Zach and find a way to keep the tenuous peace with Peter. On and on in this relentless cycle of being Alicia Florrick.)
The elevator pings as she finishes her rationale for punitive damages, and on a work day with the office ooutside bustling, she wouldn’t even hear it. Expecting an overeager first-year, or one of Justin’s Legal Aid guys putting a few hours in on a Saturday, Alicia looks up out of habit more than any real interest.
When she does, it stops Will in his tracks.
He looks good (he always looks good) in his jeans and designer t-shirt. He’d laugh at her thinking of it that way, claiming it’s ‘just a shirt’, but they both know better about the nice things that Will Gardner likes to have in his life. It takes a long moment for him to decide, but he starts walking towards her with a kind of wounded smile on his face that makes Alicia consider, yet again, that he might not be as okay with this split as she’d hoped.
“Hey,” he says as he pushes the door the rest of the way open.
“Hey,” she says, and when she smiles, she means it.
“I didn’t know you were here,” he explains, but she raises an eyebrow to ask him silently why he’s in her office, then. He shrugs, and she notices the sports bag in his left hand for the first time. He’s probably on his way to another basketball game, now that she’s not taking up his weekends.
“I, uh...it’s stupid. It can wait,” he continues, with that embarrassed look he gets sometimes, but so rarely in public. Alicia realizes that she’s missed it; bashful, like his t-shirt, looks good on him.
“If you say so,” Alicia soothes, just a little. “I don’t mind.”
“So,” Will hedges, still in the doorway like he’s might need to take off running at any moment. Alicia would be offended if things weren’t still so raw between them; she can feel the hurt like a third person in the room, surprised how much of it is her own. “You’re working on the uh--”
“The class action,” Alicia supplies. “Diane wants the paperwork ready for Monday--we’re going to start signing up plaintiffs.”
“Great,” Will says, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He looks thoughtful for a moment, before finally deciding to come in and take the seat in front of Alicia’s desk.
“You look like you have something else to say, Will,” Alicia knows she’s coaxing, but she’s already thinking of better ways the two of them might have spent this free Saturday, and that way danger lies.
“I do,” he says, and she likes that for all the lost boy looks, he’s still man enough to admit things to her. Will unzips his bag and pulls out a small gift bag, complete with the Christmas trimmings she’d expect from a high-end store.
“Oh,” Alicia says, surprised. “I uh, I haven’t even bought most of my gifts yet. I didn’t know if we were--”
“It’s nothing, really” he explains. “But I thought of it a while ago and I wanted to give it to you. I’ve got that conference, and then I’m going away for a few days to see my sister and her kid, so I thought: better do it now.” He runs one hand over his hair, nervous again for a moment. “I was just gonna leave it here for you on Monday. Honestly, it’s no big deal.”
“Well, it’s really very sweet of you,” Alicia replies, reaching for the bag. The last thing she wants to seem is ungrateful, and at least it settles the question of whether or not to buy gifts for Will (and Diane, as cover really) this year.
“Happy holidays, Alicia,” Will says, and in an instant he’s all business again. When his expression hardens like that it brings out the slightly planes of his face, and Alicia has always liked that view.
He stands to leave, and despite the flurry of comments that gather on her tongue, Alicia simply sees him off with a little wave. She turns back to her paperwork, but it’s a few minutes before the words start making sense again.
She takes the bag home with her a few hours later, placing it carefully in her closet and thinking how grateful she is that Jackie can’t get in to snoop anymore. There’s no telling what Will has wrapped up for her in there, beyond the fact that it’s soft and not particularly heavy.
It’s easy to forget about it for the next few days--Will is out of the office like he said, and work shows little sign of relenting even in the ramp up to the holidays. Alicia takes the step of inviting Peter over for Christmas lunch, telling him that yes, he can bring Jackie, but let’s maybe keep the barbed comments to a minimum this year? If the kids want, they can go back with him once the meal is over, but Alicia is getting tired of presenting them with decision after decision to make.
Alicia revels in a Christmas morning where she isn’t woken at the crack of dawn--even Grace has finally grown out of that--and she makes a mug of tea to take back to bed with the novel she’s read about three pages of since October. It’s only when her sleepy teenagers still haven’t risen by ten that she remembers the little gift bag in her closet.
It’s ridiculous to be sneaking around in her own bedroom, especially since the door is closed, but Alicia practically tiptoes anyway. She looks at the vaguely-familiar store name on the bag but can’t think where in Chicago it is. With a little frisson of excitement, she pulls the wrapped package out onto the bed, and in three sharp tears she has dispensed with the paper altogether, which leaves...
...a folded gray t-shirt.
At first, Alicia flashes onto the one Will had been wearing in her office a week ago. Is it possible he bought matching ones? No, that’s officially insane. With a confused little sigh, Alicia unfolds the shirt and holds it up for closer inspection. It’s a Hoyas shirt, complete with that bulldog logo that she never quite warmed to in her four years there.
She’s a little let down after the wait and the suspense she gave herself, and honestly it doesn’t say much for Will’s imagination in the gift-giving department. It’s only when she starts folding it again that the lack of tags attached to the label finally registers with her. The thought of it not being brand new (and hey, maybe the print isn’t distressed so much as it is just ‘washed a lot’) triggers a memory and Alicia runs her finger along the hem of the shirt, finding the two little holes right next to the side seam.
And suddenly her gift isn’t a let down or boring after all. It’s the same t-shirt she used to steal from Will on a regular basis after late night study sessions or when she forgot something to change into after swim practice. And Will, her good friend and study companion, would always have it freshly cleaned and waiting for her the next time.
Alicia’s smiling now, and she reaches for her phone to call him. She knows this wasn’t just lying around his apartment - she’s been there often enough and none of his college things are there. This has to have been requested from his family home, or somewhere in storage maybe. That he thought ahead enough to do that makes Alicia smile all the harder.
She has the number up on screen, ready to press call when the first thump of footsteps comes running along the little hallway. Shaking her head, Alicia clears it and shoves the shirt, paper and all under the folded-down comforter. She’s just in time, too, because Grace comes rushing in like maybe the years have rolled back and she still believes in Santa.
Alicia leads the way out into the living room, with the wrapped presents waiting beneath the tree. She smiles as Zach is dragged bodily from his room by his sister, and as a different family unit they sit down to Christmas morning in this strange and slightly painful way.
Alicia tries not to think of Will, wondering what he’s doing now and if he’s being dragged to the punishment of presents before coffee. She smiles again at the thought of her shirt (and how maybe she’ll wear it to bed, tonight) and tries not to wonder how they ended up here again.
Their problem, much as it ever was, is a terminal case of bad timing.
Pairing: Alicia/Will
Rating: G
Spoilers: Through 3x11 'What Went Wrong'
Disclaimer: Rights remain with the Kings and CBS, etc. This is a transformative work and no profit is being made.
Prompt: TGW, Alicia/Will, "There is no such thing as a problem without a gift for you in its hands. You seek problems because you need their gifts."
Dedication: To my wonderful Heidi, who loves good books and knows good romance when she sees it - I tried to honour that with the feel of this? It was a beautiful prompt, and it goes without saying that I wish you the very best Christmas and most dazzling 2012 <3
Working on the weekends is supposed to be the exception, not the rule, but (Diane’s warning is ringing in her ears) there’s work enough to be done, and Peter has the kids anyway. It’s nice to be able to wear jeans, at least, even if she couldn’t quite bring herself to sacrifice the heels. Something about this building makes her feel a need not to be small.
Eli’s office lies empty opposite hers; rumor has it he’s been chasing up old contacts in Springfield and DC. There’s some interesting chatter about who’s going to run for Mayor, and Alicia doesn’t even want to speculate which Chicagoans he’s trying to lure back with promises of glory and the perfect campaign. Still, if it distracts him from Peter and the Governorship, and Alicia’s role in imploding all of that, then it’s probably for the best.
The first hour flies by in sips of coffee and the rhythmic turning of pages. They’ve tried to retain the paperfree ethos of the Bond days, but old habits have been creeping back in now that the firm is relatively calm. Opposing counsel have a habit of providing everything in hard copy anyway, not least because it makes it easier to ‘lose’ pages and cause one annoying delay after another. By the time eleven o’clock rolls around Alicia has found her rhythm - the highlights and her scribbled notes are coming together in a well-argued brief that’s definitely better than some of the hasty patch-up jobs she’s had to submit when cases get right down to the wire.
Time is a luxury, and one she’s forgotten how to enjoy. It’s always file the brief, request the subpoena, find the precedent and on and on until the name on the docket changes, but the work rarely does. (And on top of that it’s avoid Kalinda, check in on Grace, text Zach and find a way to keep the tenuous peace with Peter. On and on in this relentless cycle of being Alicia Florrick.)
The elevator pings as she finishes her rationale for punitive damages, and on a work day with the office ooutside bustling, she wouldn’t even hear it. Expecting an overeager first-year, or one of Justin’s Legal Aid guys putting a few hours in on a Saturday, Alicia looks up out of habit more than any real interest.
When she does, it stops Will in his tracks.
He looks good (he always looks good) in his jeans and designer t-shirt. He’d laugh at her thinking of it that way, claiming it’s ‘just a shirt’, but they both know better about the nice things that Will Gardner likes to have in his life. It takes a long moment for him to decide, but he starts walking towards her with a kind of wounded smile on his face that makes Alicia consider, yet again, that he might not be as okay with this split as she’d hoped.
“Hey,” he says as he pushes the door the rest of the way open.
“Hey,” she says, and when she smiles, she means it.
“I didn’t know you were here,” he explains, but she raises an eyebrow to ask him silently why he’s in her office, then. He shrugs, and she notices the sports bag in his left hand for the first time. He’s probably on his way to another basketball game, now that she’s not taking up his weekends.
“I, uh...it’s stupid. It can wait,” he continues, with that embarrassed look he gets sometimes, but so rarely in public. Alicia realizes that she’s missed it; bashful, like his t-shirt, looks good on him.
“If you say so,” Alicia soothes, just a little. “I don’t mind.”
“So,” Will hedges, still in the doorway like he’s might need to take off running at any moment. Alicia would be offended if things weren’t still so raw between them; she can feel the hurt like a third person in the room, surprised how much of it is her own. “You’re working on the uh--”
“The class action,” Alicia supplies. “Diane wants the paperwork ready for Monday--we’re going to start signing up plaintiffs.”
“Great,” Will says, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He looks thoughtful for a moment, before finally deciding to come in and take the seat in front of Alicia’s desk.
“You look like you have something else to say, Will,” Alicia knows she’s coaxing, but she’s already thinking of better ways the two of them might have spent this free Saturday, and that way danger lies.
“I do,” he says, and she likes that for all the lost boy looks, he’s still man enough to admit things to her. Will unzips his bag and pulls out a small gift bag, complete with the Christmas trimmings she’d expect from a high-end store.
“Oh,” Alicia says, surprised. “I uh, I haven’t even bought most of my gifts yet. I didn’t know if we were--”
“It’s nothing, really” he explains. “But I thought of it a while ago and I wanted to give it to you. I’ve got that conference, and then I’m going away for a few days to see my sister and her kid, so I thought: better do it now.” He runs one hand over his hair, nervous again for a moment. “I was just gonna leave it here for you on Monday. Honestly, it’s no big deal.”
“Well, it’s really very sweet of you,” Alicia replies, reaching for the bag. The last thing she wants to seem is ungrateful, and at least it settles the question of whether or not to buy gifts for Will (and Diane, as cover really) this year.
“Happy holidays, Alicia,” Will says, and in an instant he’s all business again. When his expression hardens like that it brings out the slightly planes of his face, and Alicia has always liked that view.
He stands to leave, and despite the flurry of comments that gather on her tongue, Alicia simply sees him off with a little wave. She turns back to her paperwork, but it’s a few minutes before the words start making sense again.
She takes the bag home with her a few hours later, placing it carefully in her closet and thinking how grateful she is that Jackie can’t get in to snoop anymore. There’s no telling what Will has wrapped up for her in there, beyond the fact that it’s soft and not particularly heavy.
It’s easy to forget about it for the next few days--Will is out of the office like he said, and work shows little sign of relenting even in the ramp up to the holidays. Alicia takes the step of inviting Peter over for Christmas lunch, telling him that yes, he can bring Jackie, but let’s maybe keep the barbed comments to a minimum this year? If the kids want, they can go back with him once the meal is over, but Alicia is getting tired of presenting them with decision after decision to make.
Alicia revels in a Christmas morning where she isn’t woken at the crack of dawn--even Grace has finally grown out of that--and she makes a mug of tea to take back to bed with the novel she’s read about three pages of since October. It’s only when her sleepy teenagers still haven’t risen by ten that she remembers the little gift bag in her closet.
It’s ridiculous to be sneaking around in her own bedroom, especially since the door is closed, but Alicia practically tiptoes anyway. She looks at the vaguely-familiar store name on the bag but can’t think where in Chicago it is. With a little frisson of excitement, she pulls the wrapped package out onto the bed, and in three sharp tears she has dispensed with the paper altogether, which leaves...
...a folded gray t-shirt.
At first, Alicia flashes onto the one Will had been wearing in her office a week ago. Is it possible he bought matching ones? No, that’s officially insane. With a confused little sigh, Alicia unfolds the shirt and holds it up for closer inspection. It’s a Hoyas shirt, complete with that bulldog logo that she never quite warmed to in her four years there.
She’s a little let down after the wait and the suspense she gave herself, and honestly it doesn’t say much for Will’s imagination in the gift-giving department. It’s only when she starts folding it again that the lack of tags attached to the label finally registers with her. The thought of it not being brand new (and hey, maybe the print isn’t distressed so much as it is just ‘washed a lot’) triggers a memory and Alicia runs her finger along the hem of the shirt, finding the two little holes right next to the side seam.
And suddenly her gift isn’t a let down or boring after all. It’s the same t-shirt she used to steal from Will on a regular basis after late night study sessions or when she forgot something to change into after swim practice. And Will, her good friend and study companion, would always have it freshly cleaned and waiting for her the next time.
Alicia’s smiling now, and she reaches for her phone to call him. She knows this wasn’t just lying around his apartment - she’s been there often enough and none of his college things are there. This has to have been requested from his family home, or somewhere in storage maybe. That he thought ahead enough to do that makes Alicia smile all the harder.
She has the number up on screen, ready to press call when the first thump of footsteps comes running along the little hallway. Shaking her head, Alicia clears it and shoves the shirt, paper and all under the folded-down comforter. She’s just in time, too, because Grace comes rushing in like maybe the years have rolled back and she still believes in Santa.
Alicia leads the way out into the living room, with the wrapped presents waiting beneath the tree. She smiles as Zach is dragged bodily from his room by his sister, and as a different family unit they sit down to Christmas morning in this strange and slightly painful way.
Alicia tries not to think of Will, wondering what he’s doing now and if he’s being dragged to the punishment of presents before coffee. She smiles again at the thought of her shirt (and how maybe she’ll wear it to bed, tonight) and tries not to wonder how they ended up here again.
Their problem, much as it ever was, is a terminal case of bad timing.