A/N: Yup, this is exactly what you think it is. Rated M for obvious reasons and I'm not sorry for what I did! :D Thanks to Chrissie for the beta work! 3
Set around 3x08 (let's pretend we haven't noticed the huge timeline fail because… 2013… really, writers?….)
She has been meandering aimlessly around her apartment for a good fifteen minutes. All the laundry done, she ended up cleaning the whole apartment and drinking two glasses of wine while waiting for that call.
Will is in New York again, this time without her. And as much as she knows that she has no reason – let alone right – to be jealous, she is nonetheless. A slight possessiveness and a natural tendency to exclusivity makes it hard to constraint their complicated relationship to what it was initially supposed to be. Only a few days ago he asked her if they should pause. The thought she spared to the idea was feebler than the excuses she tried to collate in favor of common sense. She is well aware that it's getting complicated, that they crossed the it's-time-to-stop-this line a few dozens of encounters ago. But the feeling of him is everywhere. In her mind, her dreams, in every neuron that traverses her body. And the farther he is, the more the need for him seems to intensify.
When the ringing of her phone pulls her back startlingly from her thoughts, a quiver of excitement, a tingle of anticipation, rouses her, shaking her inside. For a long moment, she can't breathe. She doesn't have to check the id. She feels it. She feels him. And her heart, suddenly throbbing uncontrollably, almost makes her dizzy.
She forces herself to breathe again, then clears her throat to conceal the adrenaline. "Hello…"
"Hi," is all he says.
She can feel him swallow and it's hard to say if for the same electricity that's keeping her in a constant, restless motion, or for an attempt to drown the same in a loosening gulp of whisky. She hates and loves the fact that she can't see him. She can close her eyes and picture him however pleases her. She can almost smell his cologne. Almost.
"Hi," she answers, her voice a good octave higher than she intends it, then rolls her eyes at herself for letting her hormonal turmoil take over. "How are things going there?" she asks, a bit for interest, a bit in a lame attempt to make some small talk. She sits on her couch, then takes the glass of wine from the coffee table. She's glad she's been farsighted enough to pour it before the call, because whilst it's the third glass of the night it still doesn't feel enough to do this.
"Looking good, we might have a lot to celebrate when I'm back…" he hints, a suggestive inflection in the tone of this voice that makes her heart skip a beat and fold her legs with sensual slowness. And her mind starts projecting a few ways in which they might celebrate. None of those is politically correct, or remotely decent.
"That sounds… promising…" It makes her miss his presence even more. "So when are you going to be back?"
"Sunday night," he responds with a resigned sigh.
This means they won't see each other until Monday. What a huge disappointment. A weekend alone. A whole weekend doing what she keeps claiming she does in front of her kids; seeing phantom friends, working on cases, maybe calling Owen if she really gets desperate. "Leaving me alone for the whole weekend? You will need to make sure those celebrations are more than just worth it," she reproaches him flirtatiously, then takes a small sip of wine.
Will sighs, something that sounds like a suffocated chuckle. "I'll make sure they are…" The silence that follows is charged with too many things they both feel but will probably never dare to voice. Words of need, of longing, of… "I miss you."
"I miss you too." You. Your presence. Every part of your body. She closes her eyes to better visualize him. "So… what are you doing all alone in that hotel room?"
Will snuffles, imperceptibly. "How do you know I'm in a hotel room right now?"
"Because you wouldn't want to have this conversation anywhere else?" she suggests, knowing but not exactly knowing what will happen next.
"Touché," he laughs softly and she can't help laughing, too.
"So… what do you miss of me, exactly, Mr. Gardner?" she teases him.
"What do I miss of you? Uhmmm. Well… the way you are probably biting that lovely bottom lip of yours right now," he starts.
Alicia smiles, then raises a brow, pleased, as she releases the tortured lip from the grip of her teeth. "That's all?" she asks in feigned offense.
Will chuckles but doesn't add anything more. Instead…"Your turn now. What do you miss of me?"
She thinks for a moment, closes her eyes to see him in front of her. "The way you do that serious, almost uninterested look, while I can see that sly smile betraying you from here."
"Really? And what would my sly smile be saying?" he questions, playing along with fake naiveté.
She thinks what to answer, how to surprise him, because if they are going to do this thing, she wants to do it right. "That you'd love to run all the bases?"
"Look at you and the sports metaphors," Will observes, approval seeping through his surprised tone. "We should play this game more often."
"I'm sure this would top every possible football match," she whets his appetite.
"You still have to prove it," he reminds her.
Alicia absorbs his words and his not so subtle invitation to lead the game. She stares down at her outfit, thinking of what there's hidden beneath her dress. "I'm wearing that red corset."
She listens to the dazed silence on the other end, can see his cold sweat as he unlooses his tie – and it doesn't really matter if he's not wearing any right now.
"That one?" he asks. Unnecessarily, Alicia thinks. His reaction tells her that he remembers very well.
"Yep."
Will groans, then clears his throat. "This is pure torture."
"I'm just playing," she singsongs. She still can't say who suggested this, nor how they actually ended up agreeing to do it. But she's definitely starting to enjoy it. If there's something they both excel in, that's torturing and tantalizing each other.
"You sure know the rules," he notices.
Are there even rules? Or is it just something that happens casually? "Now what?"
Will heaves a sigh, probably pondering where to take this next. She imagines him; tilting back his head, closing his eyes. "Take everything off, just leave the corset."
Not wasting any time there… "How will you know that I really did it?" she teases him.
"I know you enough to know that you want to do it."
That's one nice answer. And the utter truth. She nods but doesn't say a word. A few seconds pass, enough for her dress to slide down to the floor, no more needed. She had considered changing into something more comfortable, but then chose against it. She felt much sexier and ready for this with something elegant on her skin. Left semi-naked, she peeps around and feels a bit ridiculous to do this thing in the middle of the living room, completely alone, so she moves to the comfort of her bedroom. She locks the door, even if there's no one else besides them. It's a habit. "Okay. I did it. Corset and G-string. But now you will have to do the same…" It seems just about fair.
"Shall I leave the corset too?" Will jokes, and somehow his words, instead of ruining the excitement of the moment, manage to dissipate that bit of awkwardness, of light discomfort, that still remained.
She laughs out loud. "So, boxers or briefs?"
"Boxers," is his amused reply.
Alicia thinks, or pretends to think, then grants him the due parity. "Okay, you can keep them, for now… everything else goes. And don't cheat."
A dull sound gives away that he has laid his phone, just for a moment, just to get rid of everything he's wearing. "Okay done."
He's fast. Definitely no tie, let alone buttons to undo, Alicia notices, as she lays down on the bed, one hand holding the phone to her ear, the other loose above her head, then closes her eyes for a moment. A shiver of cold runs down her spine. Will is there but he isn't really there and in no way this can be the same as the pleasantness of the heat of his body covering hers, of him filling her, inch by inch, with his ever passionate need. In no way this equals the feeling of him move inside and outside of her. She opens her eyes wide as she suffocates an unexpected gasp. She wonders if Will has heard it too.
"What are you thinking?" he asks in a whisper.
She could lie, she could keep playing her part in the game, but the truth sounds far better. "That I wish you were really here. That it's… cold… without you… You?"
These silences sound different than they usually do, almost filled with a longing that shouldn't be there. In the end it's only a few days but right now they look like an abyss.
"Same," he finally speaks. "I'm in the same hotel as last time."
A smile is on her lips before she realizes it, the images from that time still bright in her mind. "Uhmmm."
"That night was…" Will starts, then halts, probably lacking the best way to define it.
"… special," she finishes for him.
"Yes, special…"
Bits of that night flash in front of her. Will's words. The view from the balcony. Her absolute state of bliss. "What would you do, if I was there with you, now?"
"What would I do?" Will repeats her question, then takes time to think. "First, I'd take you in my lap and kiss you, right behind your ear, you know, on that special spot that gives you the goosebumps every time. I love that light quiver you do, how you tilt your head to one side and… abandon yourself. Then I'd move down, kissing all the way, from your neck, slowly, sucking your skin, down to your chest. I'd take the laces of the corset in my teeth and pull, until it opens and frees your beautiful breasts."
Her breath is uneven, hurried. She feels like she's about to hyperventilate, but she refuses to open her eyes, not just yet. She doesn't want to break the spell. Because even if he's far away, she can feel him, and it's so intense. She can feel his mouth, she can feel his lips on her. Without realizing it, her hands are pulling on the lace, undoing the small satin ribbon, as his voice continues his trip down her body and into her sensations.
"You're here with me, aren't you?" Will whispers.
"Yes," she barely manages to emit a sound. "You haven't used your hands yet…"
"We have time for it… I haven't finished my journey yet…" he teases her, and it's almost unbearable.
Too much but not enough at the same time. It drives her crazy. "And where else would you want to go?" she invites him to go further on.
"I'd trace a slow path all along your stomach, then stop right at the hem, where the corset ends and that sexy though extremely annoying G-string begins."
She can hear her own chuckle ring in the room. "Want me to remove it?"
"Yes," he affirms, and there isn't even one small bit of hesitation in his voice.
And she obeys, slightly bending her hips to get free of the tiny fabric. "Done. Your way is free now," she jokes with faux annoyance.
"Much better now… I can almost smell your desire. It's piercing, and so..."
Her thighs tightens, as her inner muscles suddenly clench in an involuntary spasm. Dammit. "Will…"
"Not yet," he interrupts her. He's still making his way down, his voice placing soft kisses, licking and sucking, on her slender, silky thighs, on her thin and sculptured calves, down to her feet and back up, until it finally lingers on parts of her body that were concealed only instants ago.
Her scream resounds in the silence. Her eyes open wide to the view of her ceiling. Her body is trembling and she's not exactly sure it's for the cold.
This was…
Intense.
Unexpected.
Pleasing in a way she didn't know yet.
On the other end of the line, Will is smiling. She can perceive it. She can see his satisfied smirk.
Later that night, the smile hasn't disappeared yet from her lips. She opens her laptop, flashes of his guiding voice still dancing in front of her. It was weird, yet fantastic in every possible way. But who is she kidding?
As she stares at the empty side of her bed, a few words form in her head and quickly become typed word of an email.
I can't stand it… phone sex isn't enough…
Because it's not the sex she's missing. It's him.
