Eli's POV
Alicia Florrick was nervous. Most people wouldn't know it to look at the cool composed figure she presented, but Eli Gold was not most people. Being an expert in reading people was already a large part of his job and he had come to know her well; at this point, a Vulcan mindmeld would be unnecessary child's play.
From his vantage point outside the glass-walled conference room, Eli watched as a small pulse beat steadily at the base of her throat, and the toe of her stiletto tapped silently in midair beneath the table. He tried to convey calming thoughts the few times she glanced in his direction, and wished he had been able to be by her side through this. But after initial questioning regarding Peter and the campaign had commenced, Eli had been firmly excused, despite his assurances he would silently observe. (At least being in exile would not stop him from doing that.) He'd gathered his things in seeming concession, pausing only to lay a hand on Alicia's shoulder as he'd leaned down to murmur, "I'll be right outside." It was subtle, all he could do in the moment, but he hoped it would help. Once the door closed behind him, he took six steps to an open seat in her eyeline, pulled out his Blackberry and pretended a great deal of interest in celebrity Twitter feeds as he kept a frequent eye on Alicia.
Although she seemed relaxed, her posture had a balanced rigidity to it, her back never quite touching her chair. Slouching was inexcusable to her, a sign of defeat or comfort; Eli knew, presently, she was experiencing neither of those things. His mind continued to telegraph support in her direction.
In a nod to his constant suggestions about appearance when he'd first signed on with Peter, her hands were calmly folded on the polished tabletop before her, left hand on top an understated broadcast of the gold band it bore. Her mouth quirked up once or twice, only a touch of wry bitterness visible in the smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. Whatever was being said was not amusing. He focused at her and they drew a breath in tandem.
He watched her take an occasional note in the leather case beside her. The first time, she'd returned to the studied pose she'd held since they'd arrived. The second, the pen had remained in her fingers, and her grip had tightened on it momentarily before she replied to whatever had made her tense, as though the pen were a lightning rod for any emotions she felt, drawing them to a neutral point away from her face, lest they cause any damage.
The third and final time, she squeezed the pen again, and she'd taken an additional moment to add a scribble in her book as her gaze sought his through the glass. He'd given her a nod, the no-nonsense inclination of the head with a small smile on the lips, that signaled all was- or would be- fine.
After what seemed an eternity of five minutes, Alicia emerged, and it turned out he'd been right. He'd been right? Everything was really fine? After reassuring everyone for so long with false bravado, the truth of it was still oddly surprising, and in his relief he said the first thing that popped into his head without thinking.
"I could kiss you right now." In the time it took him to realize what he'd said and formulate an apology, a denial, and an excuse that it was an attempt to alleviate any lingering stress, she responded with a serious-sounding comeback. Eli's heart began to beat a little faster as they waited for the world's slowest moving elevator, and found himself looking at her with each ding!, the smile on her face doing funny things to his nerves.
Alicia's POV
"Nothing to worry about... Just breathe and it'll be over before you know it."
If she believed in signs, Alicia would've been worried. Her car had gotten a flat, she'd broken the heel on her most comfortable shoes and had to borrow emergency stilettos from Diane that were a half-size too small, and the heavens had opened up with a spectacular downpour on their way to the meeting. After all that, she still couldn't believe she was wasting billable hours sitting in a conference room with an aging squad of Torquemada's contemporaries because of some stupid little snit's lies. The preliminary questioning was minimal, and Alicia kept calm throughout, giving to-the-point answers that evaded the true question.
When Eli had been "excused", she'd bit back her demand that his presence be allowed. After his blithely delivered counter that he would merely observe from that point on, she'd wanted to use every precedent at her mental disposal to convince the board to let him stay with her. She hadn't watched as he left, only felt the gentle pressure of his hand on her shoulder as he'd passed. The attenuated squeeze and reassurance he'd be waiting for her made her eyes drop to the tabletop as she drew in a stabilizing breath, raised her chin and met the challenge facing her head on.
"You can do this."
She found herself looking at her wedding ring before certain answers, and remembered Eli had taught her to fold her hands this way: right thumb under left, fingers laid left over right, left index finger aligned across right knuckles. Rotate wrists as needed to project the band; conveys "married" with subtle efficacy.
Her life was a show, a perpetually re-scripted improv, a careful game of truth and lies. Lies upon lies layered in an intricate but insubstantial web that had brought her world crashing down when it unraveled. Then, the lies had come from her husband, and truth had only brought pain and a long road to normalcy. Now, a lie was jeopardizing a world re-built, and the truth could set them free... if the rest of the world cared to listen. The smiles that pulled her mouth up at the corners were symbolic of the ironic situation; it seemed funny, but was really so sad.
"Breathe..." She inhaled deeply and felt a modicum of calm seep through her.
Notes were another effective tool, allowing you time to gather thoughts or a way to deflect with a simple "let me look that up and get back to you." Eli had spent a lot of time grooming Peter and Alicia had absorbed the tricks she realized might be useful in arenas from politics to parent/teacher conferences.
As the questions got more invasive, she felt her calm beginning to slip. Tension had been building in her like an overcoiled spring, and it didn't seem they were going to stop tightening the screws until they got the answers they wanted. Why couldn't they see they were getting the truth? Just retreat to their offices to lick their wounds and leave her alone?
Her eyes flicked to Eli, unconsciously drawn to the man of answers, seeking some sign, some reassurance. His gaze met hers, and he gave her The Nod. She'd seen it before: a gentle crinkling around the eyes, lips turned up in the slightest of smiles, and a subtle definite incline of the head in your direction.
"You can do this. Everything's going to be fine."
The meeting convened a few minutes later, everything found to be in "apple-pie order" with no need for "any further unpleasantness." Alicia simultaneously wanted to laugh, cry, kiss her children, run from the stultifying atmosphere and hug Eli like a teddybear. Instead she took her time gathering her things, rose gracefully and strode through the door being held open by one of her now cordial inquisitors. She tossed a nod of thanks in his direction, pinned her gaze on Eli who stood at the ready, and headed towards the elevators.
They strode side by side down the hallway, each step putting the mess farther behind them. Eli didn't pepper her with questions, but seemed full of a released energy, as though he'd been as nervous as she and needed to verify the matter's closure before he could relax with his joy. He could be so cute sometimes. She felt herself beginning to unwind as they walked, and a genuine smile burst up with her summary of the interrogation.
"I could kiss you right now." The declaration almost dropped her jaw, but the opening he'd given was entirely too perfect. She replied in a perfect deadpan, "Well, that would certainly give them something to talk about."
As they waited for the elevator, he silently regarded her with a quizzical expression, her smile growing with each ding of the floor indicator. The doors slid open on a mercifully empty car and they stepped in, indicating the Lobby as their destination. The ride down silent, she studied the reflective chrome in front of them and noticed that legal backgrounds and an attachment to Peter Florrick notwithstanding, they mirrored each other in several ways: perfect hair, well-tailored suit, overcoats draped over left arms, attachés held in front of the body with both hands like a shield. They also did a lot for the people they care about, and rarely got the thanks it seemed they should.
Her case thuds softly as she sets it down, the coat easing down her arm to rest on top. She leans across him to press a button, their faces a few inches apart as the car shudders to a stop. That same quizzical gaze on his face as he backs into the corner, she closes the gap between them and throws her arms around his shoulders. The fabric of his jacket tickles her chin and her eyes are closed as she holds on for a moment, squeezing him gently as she draws and releases a deep breath. "Thank you, Eli." Her voice is soft, the emotion sincere, but she's aware he hasn't moved or responded (his briefcase is still between them, for goodness sake) and the last thing she wants right now is to make him uncomfortable.
She's about to withdraw when Eli's muscles twitch and she feels something tickle her thigh. A sliding sound and thud indicate his belongings have just joined hers on the floor, and then his arms are around her, resting across the back of her ribcage, pulling her just a fraction of an inch closer. His voice is warm as it ghosts across her ear. "You're welcome, Alicia."
They stand like that for a moment longer before breaking apart, suit jackets tugged and straightened and belongings collected before resuming their descent in companionable silence. As they step off the elevator, Eli stops and transfers his things to the right, offering Alicia his arm as they walk out through the pneumatic doors into a suddenly bright October afternoon.