Heh heh, I've turned on most of my fellow LtM writers and did a oneshot completely on Alec/Gill. Don't get me wrong, I'm still completely Callian, but I still don't think Alec is bad. My inspiration is Our Last Kiss by Silla123. I read it earlier and, um, this happened. I rather like writing as Alec. Maybe just this mopey guy. Maybe both.
ANYWAY... enjoy.
It was his alarm clock that woke him. Not the sound of his wife getting up and taking a shower. Not the sound of toast popping out of the toaster or the beep of the microwave or the scream of the kettle boiling. It was his freaking alarm clock. He sat up and turned it off. It was going to be hard getting used to that. It was going to be even harder being a single man after how many years of being married.
Alec Foster was not a happy camper this morning. Or any mornings lately.
He slowly climbed out of his bed – with one side empty, he saw painfully – and made his way over to the spacious master bathroom in the dark. A yawn stretched his jaws while he waited for the shower water to warm up. Five minutes later, he was out and shaking his hair dry. It was a Saturday so it wasn't like he needed to look like he going to work anyway. Plus, his recent divorce had left his hair dryer-less. That's what he got for not getting his own like she had teased him about for so long.
Getting dressed was strangely easy. Almost robotic. As he studied his face in the mirror behind the sink, there was the smallest hint of bags under his eyes, which where hidden once he put his glasses on. He jumped in surprise as a clap of thunder sounded outside his winder.
Oh, so now the weather was taunting him too. Ruining a perfect day for golf. Although, he hadn't been all that excited in the first place so maybe the random thunderstorm was also helping him. But that just meant he now had a full day to wallow in his nothingness instead of just half like he had planned. How wonderful. Oh, he couldn't just curl up and freeze like this, could he? No, he couldn't do that to Gillian. Couldn't do that to himself.
His cell phone on the end table started ringing and buzzing. Still sulking, he sauntered over and answered it. "Alec Foster." Oh God, even his voice gave away how tired he felt. He should definitely
There was a slight pause before the person on the other end replied. "This blasted weather is going to ruin our golf day, Foster." It was his boss, probably one of the stiffest people in the world. "Stay home so you don't get sick and can still come in on Monday." Then Alec hung up. Hopefully he didn't get fired for that, he just didn't need to be reminded about the fact he still had to get up on Monday and go to work, like a normal person. It was also ironic, how bittersweet that moment would be.
Moving down the stairs, still like a robot, he went and sat down on the couch before turning on the TV. He flipped through the channels, not bothering to read the names of whatever was on.
He paused briefly on the local news. Well, living so close to DC, all news was the local news.
"The Secret Service has, once again, hired the Lightman Group to investigate these mur-" The anchorwoman's voice was cut off abruptly when Alec slammed his thumb down on the power button. There had been a shot of Gillian and Lightman walking side by side while being given everything known so far.
Silently, his rough exterior broke down. He couldn't help but let a couple tears fall silently from his eyes. His head flopped back onto the headrest and took steady, even breaths.
After about five minutes, his stomach not-so-subtly reminded him of breakfast. Five minutes after that, he sat at the kitchen table, munching on some plain toast in an almost dazed way. Bite, chew-chew-chew, swallow. Repeat. Once he had devoured both slices, he stood up and poured some cool tap water into a glass. Sip, swallow. Sip, swallow.
Sighing, he knew there was only one phone could stop him from sulking all day. Closure. The last time they had talked on the phone was while she was at work, and she had hung up on him. Not exactly a good way to have an apology call.
He picked up his phone from where he had left it on the couch. He scrolled through the contacts, wincing when Christine's cell number went by. "Call anytime you need me," she had said… if only he hadn't. He had crossed a line he shouldn't have.
Finally, he came to Gillian's cell phone number. With shaking fingers, he pressed the call button. One ring, two, three. Just when he thought he was going to have to leave a message, she answered. "Al-Alec?" God, it was good to hear her voice.
"Hey, Gill. Uh, I was, um, calling to…"
"Say a more heartfelt goodbye then the one in court?"
"Yeah. Look, I just want you to be happy. Okay?"
"I know."
"Good."
"That isn't all you called about, though."
He sighed. She could always read him like those romance novels she loved. He blamed Lightman. "I miss you like crazy. I-I… I messed up. Big time."
She laughed humorlessly. "No kidding. But you need to move on. We're done, but that's no reason life can't go on. I should know – psychologist." He could almost see her pointing at herself as a label. He couldn't help but laugh, although pitifully.
"Lightman?"
"With Cal it's… complicated, to say the least. We're supposed to be coworkers, maybe friends, but sometimes I think it might be more." She paused. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."
"No, no, no! I'm glad you did! Well, not glad, but you get the point. If you're happy, then I'm happy for you. Just promise me that he won't screw up on you like I did."
She chuckled softly. "Can't promise anything."
"Goodbye, Gillian."
"'Bye, Alec." The line went dead. Alec felt loads better, more free, and not even the rain outside could bring him down. Although, the phone call he got half an hour later from his boss… well, lets just leave it at that.