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A Will/Alicia fic.
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Disclaimer: Nope, don't own The Good Wife.
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A/N: SPOILER ALERT IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THE FINALE. Though, really, if you haven't - and you care about spoilers - you shouldn't be reading fics so soon after the episode!
The only times I really watch The Good Wife are when I see promos for the Will/Alicia pairing, so I definitely watched it tonight. LOVED IT! The ending was going in such a way that I thought they weren't gonna go through with it!
Anywhoo, here's the first of - hopefully - many fics to be written based on the last five minutes of the season finale ... which I recorded on my phone. I've watched it four times now. I'm a nerd.
I hope you guys like this, I know I'll love writing it.
As always, please read and review, I live for feedback!
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He didn't know how he ever could have thought that a mere sixty minutes would ever be enough. Not with her ... not with Alicia.
Never mind the minutes that they spent in the elevator, just staring at the opening and closing door. It took him that long just to enjoy the touch of their pinkies against one another, finally leading into a juvenile yet thrilling hand-holding. Then another five minutes to thoroughly explore the wonders of her mouth - that mouth, that sparked such fire in the courtroom. That mouth, with a vocabulary that sometimes had him searching for the dictionary. That mouth, that was the leading character in many of his dreams.
No, there were too many places on her body that he needed to explore, commit to memory, and thoroughly satisfy. Sixty minutes wasn't nearly enough.
After her fingers, and her lips, and her tongue, there was the soft touch of her hair. He ran his fingers through the silky tendrils, letting each strand caress his skin and drift back down to meet with the rest of her hair. He leaned his nose close to that hair, breathing in the intoxicating scent of her shampoo. If there was a manly and professional way to describe sexy-fruity-smelling, he would use it. As it was, he was at a loss for words.
From her hair, he found his way down to her neck. A perfectly smooth and firm, curved expansion of utterly kissable skin. He could spend weeks lavishing attention on just the underside of her chin, or the soft dip where her neck met her shoulder. He didn't think he would ever tire of the way her breath would catch in her throat when the tip of his tongue slipped past his lips to taste the skin of her neck. Sixty minutes wasn't nearly long enough.
People think that an hour is a long time. You can get a lot done in an hour. But, to be on topic - an hour of sex is an hour well-spent. For two people who have spent so long bouncing back and forth, holding back their desires and bottling down their feelings, to make an hour of sex last is a truly spectacular thing. Weaker souls might be tearing each other's clothes off in a heated frenzy, desperate to be connected in such a biblical way as soon as possible. Younger souls might have spent the hour chasing one another around the room, caught in a loop of foreplay and animalistic abandon. Older souls might have been content to gaze deeply into each other's eyes, lying still on the bed as though they had all the time in the world.
They were neither weak, nor young, nor old. They were the perfect combination of a first date and a second honeymoon.
Each garment of clothing was removed slowly and purposefully, and every millimeter of skin that was revealed was lavished with attention; kissed, caressed, tickled, licked, rubbed, scratched, nibbled, soothed. The path from the door to the bed felt like an hour in and of itself. She was a goddess to be worshipped, and she treated him in kind. He couldn't imagine ever having to leave this room, and not be able to hold her like this whenever he wanted. He couldn't imagine what it would feel like when that hour ended.
So, he refused to let himself think about that. He focused only on her, and how it felt to finally be with her after all these years. His mind wasn't ticking like the arm of a clock, it was burning the image of her laying flat on her back, a soft smile on her beautiful face as he removed her unnecessary bra. He wasn't dreading the sunrise that would shatter the spell which had fallen over them, he was imagining all the delectable ways he could make her purr, with just the upper half of her body. He wasn't pining away in his office for a woman who always chose another man over him, he was with her, in this seventy-eight-hundred-dollar-a-night hotel room, making what promised to be the most incredible love that he would ever experience.
He didn't notice when that sixty-minute mark happened to roll around. He was too enthralled with the backs of her knees. He hadn't even made his way down the length of her body yet - there was so much left to explore.
Sixty minutes would never be enough. A lifetime might never be enough. If he had his way - and after tonight, he would do his damndest to make sure he did - he would get to spend a lifetime discovering the many wonders of her body, mind, and soul.
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The end.
Well, what did you guys think of that? Like it, hate it?
This was my first Good Wife fic, I hope I did the show justice.
Reviews are appreciated, flame if you must, but constructive criticism is much more useful.
Until next time ...!