A/N 1: I came up with the idea for this story when the first spoilers of Melissa George casted on TGW were released. There has been so much fuss about her possible impact in certain characters' lives that I wanted to give it a try and put down a few scenarios I figured. And here I am with the first one for A/P. I have ready a second one for A/W and if my mischievous muse doesn't bitch with me, there will be two more, one for A/P again and one for P/M. The triple tag P/A/W doesn't entail any triangle. Both ships have their chapters and that's all. Chapters will be titled with the name of the ship, so you don't have to read a ship that's not yours if you don't feel it.
A/N 2: For the purpose of this specific chapter Peter didn't move to Springfield. Instead he chose to settle into the James R. Thompson Center (the governor's office in Chicago) to stay close to his family.
§ You can be the moon and still be jealous of the stars - Gary Allan §
Alicia wakes up in a cold sweat.
That nightmare again.
Every time she closes her eyes, that blonde haired silhouette appears in front of her, haunting her in her sleep. She has met Peter's new in-house ethics advisor on a few occasions and every single time she felt an undefined discomfort, a bleary feeling of apprehension, aversion, distaste, an unspoken hostility-like attitude. The classic cocks of the walk, just in skirt and high heeled shoes. And her name… Marilyn. The day she was hired was the day she heard for the very first time the not-so-subtle reference to JKF. It's sickening. It's like watching a bad movie remake of her life. She feels like a passive watcher, as the young woman starts to spend more and more time with Peter, working late hours, even joined him for a couple of weekends in Springfield.
There is a book she loved whilst at school, Chronicle of a Death Foretold. Her marriage is like Santiago Nasar, foretold victim of the cruel assassination. Everyone knows it will happen. At least she does and it's more than enough. If her past naivety and blind trust has taught her anything, it's to read signs, gestures, looks, to never give anything – or take anyone - for granted, first and foremost your husband.
Fool me once shame on you, fool me twice shame on me…
This morning, she has decided that shame won't fall on her. There won't be any more scandals because in one way or another, she is going to prevent it. Resolute like never before, she has decided to face him. He is the one who proposed to remarry, to renew their vows. Where is the sense in that? He promised never to hurt her again, and here he is again.
She turns to his side of the bed, instinctively, even if she knows he has already left. The good morning kiss he gave her in her half-sleep is still imprinted on her lips. She sighs deeply and fights against the nauseating twists of her stomach to stand up. Catapulted back five years in time; it isn't a pleasurable feeling.
It's even less pleasurable when that same night she walks inside the James R Thompson Center building and into the small conference room to attend Peter's press conference. She looks around, a bit disturbed by the excessive presence of journalists; she was expecting a narrower audience. But in the general mess, she manages to spot Peter on the opposite wall. He looks quiet, yet a bit on his toes. He glances around, as if looking for someone and his face brightens in a broad smile when he meets her eyes. She smiles back, lightly biting her lower lip in discomfort. She's striving to hide her upheaval, for it's certainly not the right moment, even less the right place. At the same time, she knows that smile enough to know that it's authentic. Peter's smile never lies. After hundreds of everything-will-be-fine contrived smiles, she has learned to recognize the light wrinkle that unmasks his fake ones. For a moment she thinks that she's crazy, that the signs she seems to be catching are in reality a figment of her imagination. For a moment. Till Marilyn walks in and she has to look away in front of the disquieting picture.
Someone invites everyone to be quiet as lights go down in the room, except a single one spotlighting Peter. She tries to concentrate on his words, her gaze fixed on his lips but apparently her mind has its own will, projecting in front of her the unpleasant conversation that should follow. She tries to catch the answers to questions that she has barely heard once before. He always used to ask for her advice, he always used to work his answers together with her. The fact that this time he didn't makes her feel left aside. When did her advisory opinion lose its value? Useless question. She already knows the answer. It's blond, young and right now it's standing a few steps from Peter, mouthing the answers with him. Her instinct prevails and makes her leave the room before she implodes. The strong light seeping through the glass-walled building dazzles her, till her eyes slowly manage to adjust to it. One deep breath, she leans against the banister and looks down at the comings and goings. It takes her a while but eventually she calms down. She doesn't know how long she's been there, but at some point she hears the door getting opened behind her and the first journalists leave in a random, chaotic chatter. Mustering some strength to remain quiet, she starts to walk in but she has barely reached the door when she nearly bumps into her.
"Mrs. Florrick!" Marilyn acknowledges her with a wide smile. "I didn't see you inside, Peter floored them all! One of his best press conferences since his appointment," she observes with a decided nod. "You should be proud of what he's doing!" That woman's enthusiasm would be overwhelming if she weren't too engaged in hating her. Proud of what exactly? She doesn't recall having even the most insignificant part in it, or in anything else since the day Peter was elected.
"I am," she somewhat accomplishes to say with her perfected press-dedicated smile, then quickly dodges her and walks back in. That's the longest conversation she can stand with her.
The room is still in the dark, but Peter's and Eli's voices guide her in the dim light.
"Alicia!" Peter's welcome is warm and loving. She feels his hand on hers, pulling her closer so he can place a delicate kiss on her lips.
Eli's phone rings.
Perfect timing. Or not?
"Mr. Thorpe, sure, what can I do for you?" He says out loud as he excuses himself with a light gesture and starts to walk away.
"So…" Peter starts. He's serious, but seems somewhat oblivious to everything that's going on. "The press conference went beyond any possible expectation…"
Alicia nods. She doesn't know if he saw her leaving or not and doesn't dare to say anything.
"But you don't know it of course because you left…"
She freezes. Okay, he definitely saw her leaving. She looks down, uncomfortable, knowing it's the right moment but she has no idea how to even begin such a conversation in a way that doesn't sound like a straight accusation. "I… There was too much of a crowd, I was getting claustrophobic."
When she finds the strength to look back up, Peter's delusion is etched on his face.
"What's wrong?" His question is damn complicated in its short simplicity.
"Nothing…" She shrugs. What has just happened to hours repeating her little speech?
"Alicia…" He doesn't need to add anything. When he pronounces her name like that it's never a good sign. Peter doesn't like to play hide and seek.
She closes her eyes and looks down. "Is there something I should know?" She finally whispers. Her gaze down, she can't force herself to read the truth in his eyes.
"Something… what?" He sounds confused, and she doesn't know if he's really unaware or just playing the politician with her.
Still, she can't look up. She stares blankly into the distance, forcing herself to visualize something, anything that doesn't include the image of that woman.
"Something… Marilyn…" She says, making sure he knows what all of this is about. She instinctively closes her eyes. Afraid of… what? His reaction? The truth? A lie? An admission?
Peter's silence is chilling. She has no idea how to take it. But his deep sigh doesn't forewarn anything good.
"I don't know what's crossing your mind but if you think that there is something going on, you couldn't be any more wrong…" He says. His quiet, almost soothing voice doesn't hide some annoyance. And right now, she can't distinguish anymore whether he's lying or not. She only knows that she's afraid.
"Then fire her…" She looks up, faking a confidence and a resolution that got lost between the morning and the unwelcome meeting outside that door.
"What?" Peter stares at her in what looks like plain disbelief.
"Fire her," she repeats, very quietly.
He doesn't answer. For a moment, he just stares at her and she's already fearing the worst. "No."
She wasn't certainly hoping for a different answer – or was she? - but his tone is more resolute than what she was expecting. "Why?"
"Be… because…" He hesitates, stumbling on his words.
And she just feels worse. Peter doesn't stumble on his words, he is trained by years of press conferences and interviews. He always has the right words to say. But now he's faltering and she's only surer that he's working out a perfect lie.
"Because she's great at her job! One of the best ethics advisors in the Eastern half of the United States! And because she gets along well with Eli, actually it's the first time I see someone from my staff getting along with him at all. I have a great team, Alicia, and I'm not giving up on it for an unjustified jealousy!" He exclaims.
" And you expect me to trust you?" She knows that disbelief is etched all over her face but right now she doesn't care. She came here to find an answer to all her nightmares and she's not leaving without it.
"Yes! Because if you don't… then it makes no sense for you to be still here." Peter's tone lowers but the disappointment and the resignation in it certainly doesn't.
It makes no sense for you to be still here… So this is it… "Don't try and trick me into leaving when this is exactly what you want."
"What?"
"You want me to trust you… good, show it!" She spit in anger. And it's in that moment that she realizes what the real problem is… Trust…
She observes Peter as he opens his mouth.
She knows he wants to say something, but instead he just looks away for a moment, shaking his head.
"In which way if I don't know what the problem is with you?"
It's all wrong. This is all wrong.
This is all but what she had pictured their conversation to be.
"The problem is not me! The problem is you leaving me aside for her!" She thought she was stronger, she thought at this point she was perfectly capable to control her feelings, her fears, her jealousy.
But if Peter's silence and shocked face are a hint, she knows that she's failing. And rather miserably.
"I… I'm not leaving you aside…" He manages to mutter, eventually.
"Yes you are, Peter!" She feels tears forming in her eyes and fights with all her self-control to hold them back. The last thing she wants is for him to see her cry again. "You barely told me about this press conference," she gestures erratically at the few cameras still in the room, "while you once used to search for my advice… if… if you don't need your wife anymore you might as well say it now because I won't sit down here watching as our marriage gets buried..."
"Okay…" Peter starts, he inhales deeply in a clear attempt to keep his cool. "I don't know what the hell is crossing your mind right now, but one thing is sure. Marilyn is not burying anything! If I didn't ask your advice it's only because I thought you needed time to settle in with your new firm. You are working so many late hours and I see how tired you are when you come home at night, I just didn't want to lay more work and responsibilities on you." His tone softens.
And she's left to question if all her fears are really all just that. Nonexistent fears, threats created by her own mind. But his words kind of hit her. She stares at him, unbelievably. "W… what? Since when has this become a responsibility? We used to be a team, Peter, and a good one! What you think is work, for me it's the happiness of sharing a bit of your success with you, it's my own way to show you that I care, that I believe in you and in what you do, that your ideals are still mine as well!"
"Why… why didn't you just tell me?" He opens his arms in puzzlement.
"Because whenever there is the occasion, that woman pops out!" She can taste the salt of a tear on her lips and hastens to wipe her eyes before it's too late. She can't lose control. Not now. And it's not an easy thing to do as Peter walks back and forth in front of her. And when he finally stops again, she's not sure whether she's relieved or just unconsciously preparing for the final round.
"I made the promise never to hurt you again, Alicia… and… and I really meant it. And you know it too or you wouldn't have said yes that night. And damn, with my ethics advisor! She's supposed to make my office clean, not drag me into the dirt, and that's what we are doing together with Eli," he says, almost without catching a breath. "You worry about the press? "
Of course she does… She always did.
"It will never be over Alicia, it'll never be. And so far we have always tried to handle it together. They will always find a way to make our life hard… I know it's my fault, I'm taking all the blame because if they are on to me now it's for what I did in the past. But… I can't… I can't erase what I did and you know it…"
She looks down, and for a moment she doesn't know what to say… "I'm… I'm just tired…"
"I think we need a holiday…" Peter suggests.
"Wasn't Hawaii exactly that?" She asks, confused, but she smiles, and it's a beginning.
"I mean… with no relatives in tow… only us…" He says, as he leans close and circles her waist. "Where would you like to go?"
She thinks for a moment. She thinks about all the places they always wanted to visit but never did. Because they had no money. Because then came Zach. Because then came Grace. Then everything started to whirl round and round. And before they knew it, half of their dreams were gone. Still, in all those places, there is a picture in her mind that slowly makes its way vehemently among others… it's not new but she can't get rid of it… "I don't want to go anywhere new…"
Peter shrugs. "Then?"
"Remember that small inn in Lake Forest?" She asks. And for a moment she fears that he can't remember.
"How could I forget it?" he says, bursting into laughter. "It was our first holiday together and we barely had the money for the check!"
Her tears mix with laughter as she remembers how desperate they were back then. Such a long road they've come. "That's where I want to go…" She says with a decided nod.
Peter smiles softly. "I think it's an excellent choice…" He leans closer, placing a delicate kiss on her lips.
Yes… an excellent one.