Disclaimer: I do not own The Good Wife. It would be called The Awesome Duo of Lockhart and Gardner if I did... (Or possibly a better title.)

Author's Note: Some souls are so connected that their meeting in this world was inevitable. There were countless ways they could've met, but only one wat that they did...

The Inevitability of a Meeting

Missed Opportunity #1

'There is a crack in everything. That's how the light gets in.'

~ Leonard Cohen ~

Diane smiled thoughtfully to herself, suppressing the smugness that she was feeling. It had been a while since someone young – only six years out of law school – had been arrogant enough to think that he could defeat her. It was...cute. He had charm, mixed in with the arrogance but the arrogance had neither been sexist, nor malicious, and it had softened Diane enough that she didn't go in with her full arsenal. She could have humiliated him and it could have been entertaining but there was something quite puppy-like about him.

'Good show,' the words drifted towards her.

Her smile grew bigger and she turned her eyes to look into his dark ones. 'Thank you. I aim to please.' She kept her words light, careful not to antagonise the poor puppy.

'I don't think this was quite pleasing to me exactly,' his own smile grew as he approached her with a walk Diane was very familiar with. Poor little puppy. 'But going to dinner with me would definitely please me.'

He was smooth, she would give him that. Her smile grew wider, more sincere. 'A dinner with me is sure to please anyone,' she bantered back.

'I don't doubt that but dinner with me would be pleasing to you too.' He has gradually sidled up to her and Diane had to admit that his scent was delightfully masculine and tempting. She could do dinner with him – no doubt he would pay even though she easily earned three, if not four, times his salary. If his current repartee was anything to go by, it would also be an entertaining and satisfying meal in more than one way. And whilst she would not dare to guess his prowess in bed, that too could be satisfying.

'What do you say, hmm?' He is close enough for her to feel the most ghostly impression of his body on her, his voice warmly wafting over her face

'I'm sure it'll be very satisfying but I hate to break hearts and leave men inconsolable, as the young ones invariably are.' There's a smirk playing across her face but there's a softness there, as he actually steps back in surprise. The poor child...but it would be more cruel to use him for her own pleasure and then rid of him when she tired. She would not be so cruel to someone she had already defeated emphatically.

'I could deal with heartbreak,' his brown eyes scorching into hers. 'And I'm sure I'd find consolation eventually, in immersion in sports if not other women.' His smile was confident and it was so tempting to give into it. It had been a good few months since her last liaison.

'I'm sure you could find plenty of consolation in plenty of women,' she'd said instead, drily. 'But I'm afraid I'll have to deprive you of the charm of my company.'

She finally distances herself from his proximity, her paperwork already filed away within her briefcase as she takes leisurely steps towards the exit from the courtroom. He is quick to fall into step beside her, matching his stride to hers.

'Okay how about a drink,' he pastes a winning smile that is sure to have many women swooning. Diane Lockhart is determined not to add to their number. 'Or three? I know a bar that has recently opened. Their cocktails are meant to be incredible.' His smile has a touch of the predator. It's sexy and looks oh so delightfully promising. 'I've heard that they've been compared to la petite morte on the tastebuds.'

His teeth are gleaming and he is just the sort of man that could whet her appetite. Careful about his appearance and well-dressed, but no hints of body image obsessions – no bulging muscles or sinewy limbs. His dark hair matches his dark eyes, hair styled stylishly but simply. His words indicate his wit and intelligence and his interest in her, after defeat at her hands, says as much about his true values and personality as the cocky lines he utters.

She sighs internally, full of regret. What a shame. 'That sounds tempting,' she purrs, eyes half-lidded, enjoying the momentary slack in his jaw. 'But a pity about the cocktails. I'm more of a whiskey person.'

The smirk returns at full voltage as she walks away, fully aware that he will be staring at her hips that she lilts from side to side. It's hours later that her thoughts return to him and the bar. It could've been fun. He could've been fun. He could've been more than fun, the thought drifts across her mind. It wasn't uncommon for men to be gracious about defeat at her hands – she had formed a reputation and had solidified it, one case (and victory) at a time. It had made losses that would've stung a half-decade ago acceptable but it was still a rarity for a man, suffering from such a loss, to be interested in her, romantically or in more carnal ways. And that made that man – boy – as common as she was and wouldn't that have made them a match pair?

But he offered you cocktails, she reminded herself, nose wrinkling at the thought. What possibility was there for a long-term anything between her and somebody that clearly shared a preference for cocktails?

By the next day, he had slipped from her mind, as had the cocktails he had so misguidedly suggested to her. She was, however, still firmly entrenched in his mind.

Savouring a sip of one of the cocktails he had suggested to her, he hummed with satisfaction.

'You enjoy those far too much.'

'Fuck you Gardner,' he retorted without missing a beat.

'I'm sorry about your loss,' Will offered in a show of friendship, even as laughter swirled within his eyes.

'You knew I didn't have a chance,' his friend countered, throwing him a darkling look.

'I did hear rumours that Ms Lockhart was interested in the case,' Will admitted.

'And you didn't want to end your winning streak,' he accused.

'I wanted to give you the opportunity to start a decent winning streak,' Will said instead. For a few moments, they both sipped their drinks, the one savouring the taste and the other gulping it in an attempt to minimise the disgustingly sweet drops from assaulting his tongue for more time than necessary. 'So what was she like then?' Will finally asked the question that was the only reason he was here at this deplorable bar.

A sigh wafted across to him. 'She was...remarkable.'

The word was carefully selected and Will repeated it. 'Remarkable?'

'Yeah, or maybe glorious; she was like a goddess amongst men within the confines of law.'

He'd always been a wet blanket, Will thought disgustedly, waxing poetic about a lawyer that defeated him. 'Sounds like she was impressive,' he tried to disguise the sarcasm that crept into his words.

'She was. It was like she was painting the Sistine Chapel with her arguments, writing Shakespeare and translating Dostoevsky with her motions.'

'It's like you love her.' The words slipped out before Will could stop them. He took a gulp of his cocktail in frustration and nearly choked on the foul taste.

'I would, given half the chance.'

There was a strange wistfulness that made Will quirk an eyebrow. He shoved down the delicate tendrils of jealousy. 'Even despite her winning?'

'You weren't there, Will. You have no idea what a force that creature is.'

There was a smug look of superiority on his face that Will wanted to rip off. He downed the rest of the drink, ready to leave and completely unsatisfied with the poetic answers he had been given. 'You should've asked her out.'

'I did,' he replied baldly, and this time, Will's reaction was clear, his eyebrows doing their best to embrace his hairline.

'And...' he prompted.

'She preferred whiskey,' the shrug was nonchalant but there was more than a hint of regret.

'Hard luck.' Will only allowed the smile to blossom once he was walking away. His interest was piqued, now more than ever, and he briefly wondered if he had made a wrong decision in giving away this case. Maybe losing a case was worth going up against someone that seemed so singular amongst women? His mind dwelled on Ms Lockhart and her preference for whiskey for quite some time to come.