AN: Hi there everybody. So this is my first published fanfic and I'm nervous about it, but I hope you enjoy it anyhow! I would like to know what you think so I can improve on things. And I don't have a beta so if there are any mistakes, that's all on me oops. I really do hope you all like this, so enjoy! -J xx
Crazy
She stares at the work sitting on her desk, somewhat aimless. Half of it (the part having to do with cases and her firm) makes complete sense to her. Knows it like the back of her hand, but the other part (the part that contains her copious notes on how to be good at running for State's Attorney) makes no sense at all. She's swimming in a pile of meaningless words, and that worries her. It worries her that maybe she just isn't cut out to run to be the next State's Attorney. She sure as hell knows she'd be better than Castro, but she has serious doubts about the process of getting into that office.
Office.
His office.
It'd been almost an entire week since she had moved into Will's office and it felt strange, to say the least. As soon as she stepped into the vacant space it all hit her (once more) that he was there, and that he wouldn't be again.
But Diane was there then, and she had to keep it together because though Diane knows, and she would understand, it's too much for Alicia to let go like that in front of someone. Especially about Will. After all, it did happen months ago. Though it had been the strangest few months she could ever remember. So much was happening, and it kept her occupied which she liked. That's how she likes it; busy.
Now was not one of those times. Now she was just sitting in the office that was once his, with only her desk lamp on and everybody else gone for the day. She could have easily gone home like the others and accomplished some more senseless prep from notes she jotted down when she had her last meeting with Eli and Mr. Elfman, but no. She decided to stay. She is more inclined to stay now, and it worries her, ever so slightly.
There's so much of him still left in that office, even if Canning occupied it before and that she does now. It was Will's first home, his apartment being the second. In quiet and empty moments like this she sees him everywhere, and though it's almost nice, it has to stop. She can't live in the past like that, and she's known that for years, but it means more when he isn't here.
"I can't believe you're taking notes on how to be a good politician…" His voice lingers just above her ear. "Never thought I'd see that."
She sighs then whispers, "I can't work with you leaning over my shoulder like that."
"Oh, sorry," she hears him smirk and she can't believe it still haunts her. She can't get away, and she's not entirely sure she ever wants to.
"You distract me…" Alicia breathes and pulls off her glasses.
"That's how I roll. In this office at least," she chuckles because he's said that before. He's said all of it before.
/*/
"You distract me…"
"That's how I roll. In this office at least," he says while breathing against her neck.
"You're making me not care about witness prep, and I love witness prep," she tells him just as he plants a kiss on her neck, just above the collar of her blouse.
"No one except you loves witness prep," he smiles and she can feel it against her neck and it makes her squirm, just a little.
"It's late," she says and pulls her head back flicking the bangs out of her eyes, then turns to him. She angles her body on the couch and gives him that stern Alicia look.
"Would it be… Wrong if I asked you to look at me like that more?" he teases and leans in, resting his hand on her hip.
"Right now? Yes, it would."
"Because you have to get home." Alicia hates when she has to go. There's nothing more she'd like to do than sit and drink beer and eat more pizza until the first light with Will in his office and watch it light up the entire floor with a golden haze, but the kids can't be ignored or forgotten and neither can her other responsibilities.
"I'll make it up to you," she grins and leans in to plant a feathery kiss on his lips.
"How are you going to do that, huh?"
"I can give you another ten minutes right now," she murmurs close against his lips and shifts closer to him, letting some of the documents beside her fall off the cushions.
"Seems like a fair pay off." Will kisses her again, more forceful than she expects but welcomes it all the same. She moves so she can kneel up on the sofa then hikes up her skirt just enough so she can straddle Will's lap. He lets out a soft groan and she giggles against his lips, because that sound is music to her ears and it's her favourite tune.
And it always means she'll be a little longer than ten minutes.
/*/
"I like those," and she can tell he's talking about the glasses and that's how she knows it isn't just a memory. This is happening right now. Maybe it's all in her head, but she can't shake the realness of it off and it scares her.
"I've always had perfect eyesight, how could you like them?" she asks incredulously. She can feel him leaning back in.
"Because they're sexy as hell."
She thinks she feels a kiss just below her ear and goes to touch it, touch him, but knows it isn't real. She knows none of it is real, and yet it's happening.
"I like you being in this office too, by the way. It suits you."
"It still feels like yours."
"Except it's yours now, so embrace it."
She pauses, and hopes that this whole thing will fade away because it's crazy. She feels crazy.
"Why can't I get you out of my head!?" she says loudly, frustrated by it all, and slams her hands down on the desk.
"Do you want me out of your head?"
Alicia doesn't know how to answer. Doesn't know how to answer to just air and nothing else, because that's what he is now. Air, and nothing else. It hurts to even think that and she berates herself because he was and always will be so much more than just air and nothing else. He's a memory, he's a real presence and everything else.
"No…" she answers him honestly. "I like having you here with me sometimes." She closes her eyes and leans into her chair, tilting it back.
"I like being here, seeing you wear those glasses," he chuckles and to her ears it sounds like a dream. "You remind me of a hot librarian."
"We never did get to that one when we were together," she smiles and shakes her head. They did a lot, but not that.
"It's probably because you didn't wear glasses then."
She stops answering him again. Not because she doesn't want to, but because she wants to have a real conversation with him again. Just once more. She's been saying that since the day. Just one more conversation. Just one so they could have been okay again. More okay than the last time they did speak.
And she stops thinking again because if she thinks about that she knows she'll cry, and she's almost done with crying so often. She doesn't want to cry anymore, it's exhausting and it doesn't make anything different.
"I'm still here," he says before she asks, because her head really is creating this all and she's hyper-aware of that fact.
"Do you think I'd be a good State's Attorney?" she whispers.
"I think you can be a good anything, Alicia."
"I know that, but I need you to tell me. I need you to tell me that I'm good and that I can do this," she raises her voice again and stands up from her swivel chair.
"Alicia, turn around," he says. She can't turn around though. It feels like he's there, standing behind her, ready to take her into his arms, stroke his hands up and down her back and tell her everything will be okay. It feels like that will happen, and it's literally impossible for that to happen, because he isn't really there, and he won't ever be again.
"Do it, turn around. Trust me," that sweet, compassionate Will voice coaxes her into doing it. So she closes her eyes and slowly turns around. "Open your eyes, Alicia," he whispers.
She does what he says and there he stands, in all his handsomeness. In his grey suit with that blue tie he loves, because she said she loves it.
"You will be the best goddamn State's Attorney. You'll kick ass like only Alicia Florrick can," he smiles and she feels the tears building up. "You'll be a great politician. Better than anyone in Illinois because you're real, and the people see that in you."
It sounds entirely too real and that's not possible she tells herself. It cannot be true that Will Gardner is standing in front of her telling her that she'll do this whole SA thing well. He places his hands on her arms and squeezes them reassuringly. His hands feel warm and that, yet again, doesn't feel possible.
"This is crazy, Will. I'm crazy," she utters while looking directly into his soft brown eyes.
"You're not crazy," his voice sounds like its fading, like an echo and she panics.
"No, Will, no. Stay with me. No, no, no." Her voice breaks because she knows what is about to happen, so she tries to grasp at his arms and remember the warmth that projects from them and how it feels warmer than anything has since he died.
"You're just dreaming…" His arms fade away, and so does the rest of his body, into air and nothingness.
/*/
She wakes up in a cold sweat covering her chest and her back. Her breathing is uneven and heavy. She focuses her foggy eyes and she's still in that office, his office, with only her desk lamp on. That part is still real. She doesn't feel like anyone is standing behind her, but she turns around just in case. She has a clear view to the painting she put up that morning and doesn't see a ghost, or anything that relates to Will at all.
She turns back around and looks at her hands on the desk. They're shaking, and she can still feel the warmth on the part of her arms where Will was holding her. It's crazy. She glances at her watch and it's only a little past 9 so she was only out for 20 minutes or so. Her breathing regulates eventually, and once it does she starts packing up her work, clearing her desk for the start of the next working day that will once again feel endless.
The notes she took while with Mr. Elfman and Eli are the last of the pages she picks up.
'You will be the best goddamn State's Attorney…' His voice lingers (as she suspects it always will) but it still feels real. She enjoys how real it felt, to be that close to Will and to hear his sweet, compassionate voice that only comes out every now and then.
Most of her work stays behind in her desk as she knows she'll be back first thing to read it some more. She grabs her coat and bag, flicks the desk lamp switch off and locks the office doors on her way out. She drives home in that haze everyone gets after a particularly long day, being careful that she doesn't run a red light or do something worse. Grace is already in her PJ's and sitting at her desk when she arrives home, so Alicia tells her goodnight and kisses her on the top of her head and goes to her own bedroom. The hot shower washes off the small amount of stickiness left by the cold sweat she broke into before. The bed is inviting and she knows she's about to go to sleep about two hours too early but she doesn't mind, because it was a peculiar night already.
There is nothing but blackness while she sleeps but when she wakes, the room is covered in a golden haze. That kind of golden haze that reminds her of Will and how it was his favourite time of day when everything lights up. She thinks back to her experience back in the office and remembers 'You'll kick ass like only Alicia Florrick can…'
It's crazy, just so crazy how real it was. She basks in that feeling, and the golden haze dressing the room, giving a daily moment to remember that Will was here and he mattered.
So she gets ready for the day, gets ready to face Eli about what to do about the Frank Prady interview, and gets ready to kick ass.
Like only Alicia Florrick can.