So this is based after FP's retirement but before the body storyline. First attempt at Falice; I hope you like :) Meant as one-shot but I may continue.
It was after ten when FP spotted Alice, sitting alone, nursing a cup of coffee which looked like it had long gone cold. One of the waitresses must have served her. It had been unusually busy tonight or else he would have spotted her when she came in. She had this uncanny affect on him; her presence made him both turned on and on edge. Perhaps something to do with her hot and cold attitude towards him.
A group of teenagers came in, taking a seat. He took their order, instinctively listening for any sign of movement or noise from her table. As he took their order to the counter, he heard a small sniffle come from her booth. He knew something was up; it was unusual for her to be here this late on a weekday.
Pop Tate gave him a knowing look, as he submitted the order.
"Isn't it time for your break now?", he tactfully asked without so much as glancing at Alice's booth.
Nodding, FP deposited his hat behind the counter, reaching for his cigarettes. He knew something must be up, she wouldn't let her normally composed self be vulnerable in public. He also knew she may unleash her sharp tongue on him if he attempted to console her. Commiserating over a cigarette however, was a different matter….
He approached her table, noting how she turned her phone face down as it began to vibrate.
Hal's in the shit again, he thought, with some satisfaction. His smugness vanished when he saw how disconsolate she was, angrily brushing away a tear.
"FP", she said, addressing him somewhat icily. Perhaps he had made a mistake in approaching her.
"Alice?", he asked, holding out his pack of cigarettes, nodding towards the back exit.
Her phone buzzed once more. Scowling, she cancelled the call, shoving her phone in her pants pocket before leading the way outside.
Leaning against the wall, he surveyed her as she lit her smoke. The light from the exit sign cast a gloomy light over the two companions as they smoked in silence.
"You know, I'm good for more than just a free cigarette".
She raised her eyebrows at him, with a smirk reminiscent of the one she gave him when she asked if he was sexually frustrated. This time, however, it didn't quite reach her eyes, which were still somewhat glassy from her not so concealed tears.
"No, I meant…Do you want to talk?".
Her only response was a glare. He put his hands up, indicating he'd drop it.
Wordlessly, he handed her another. This time, she accepted it with a half-smile and came to lean against the wall with him.
It should have been awkward, but it wasn't. It wasn't comfortable, per se. He never felt completely at ease around her. Not even…back then. How can you relax around someone who drove you crazy one minute and then made you miss the second they were gone? Nowadays, whenever they were in the same room, their shared history, unbeknownst to others, hovered over them. She made him feel on edge too; he was never sure if or when the claws would come out. Or if she would throw him off by giving him a peek at the old Southside Alice. Or like now, when she was letting him see her when she was feeling sad and exposed. He smiled thinking how much he enjoyed it when the old Ali would emerge which seemed to happen more often these days.
The back door was ajar; the sound of the jukebox whirring as one of the patrons selected a song.
FP shook his head in disbelief at the selection. One packed with nostalgia and so much more. Patience by Guns and Roses.
Kid's got good taste.
They'd danced to it so many years ago, in the early hours of the morning, in a smoke-filled bar: the Whyte Wyrm. No matter the party going on around them, everything would stop for this one. Like there was no one else around. Before it all went to hell. Before he fucked up. Before Hal.
Alice cleared her throat, dropping her now finished smoke on the ground and crushing it under her heel. She glanced at him, before straightening her shoulders, putting on her armour, her Northside persona and heading for the door.
Like hell if this isn't affecting her too.
Not one to let things go, he called, "Thought this was your favourite…Too many memories, Ali?".
He didn't know if he was trying to provoke her into staying, he just knew he had to say something.
She stopped, one foot on the step. Without turning, she said coldly," A lots changed since those days, FP. I'm not that Southside girl in love with the bad boy dancing in bars anymore. My taste in music", she turned to face him, looking him in the eyes even in the dim lighting, "and men, have changed since then".
Pushing off from the wall, he walked towards her, "Then why are you here with me, in the dark and not at home with your perfect Northside husband?".
Her chin raised in defiance; preparing for her next cutting remark.
"You don't know shit about my marriage, FP!". With that, she turned on her heel, intending to head back inside.
Instinctively, he reached out to stop her, grabbing her upper arm.
"What are you doing?!". She tried to pull away, looking scandalised.
He made his next move on pure instinct, he picked her up, walking them backwards, away from the steps. He set her down but kept his hands resting on her hips. She had him by the upper arms now, her nails digging in. Gradually her grip loosened as she relaxed, fully looking at him. Cautiously, he leaned in, laying his head against her hair, marvelling at how her perfume reminded him more of the old Ali. She could change her image, but she was still there under the new image. Up close, she was still his Ali.
"Don't you remember those days? This song? Just you and me?".
She didn't reply, neither did she move. Instead, moving her head so it rested on his chest, tucking her head under his and moving her feet in slowly in time to the song. He knew she was only allowing herself to relax under the guise of the dance.
Their feet moved slowly, barely keeping pace to the music. They both knew it was a charade; a hug with the added extra of some feet shuffling. He cradled the back of her head with one hand and held the other against the small of her back, holding her as close as possible. She had her hands around his waist. He couldn't believe how well they fit together, after all this time. Having her so close was affecting him and he didn't know how long he could take it.
Back in the day, they would start like this, gentle. By the time, Axel crooned "because I need you" they were usually making out in some corner, trying hard not to undress right there. They came close more than once….
It's different now. She's married. Hell, I'm still technically married…His brow furrowed, processing all these unpleasant facts.
As much as he wanted to kiss her and make her forget her troubles and that bastard Hal, he had to remind himself: she was not only married but vulnerable.
He couldn't.
The song was ending. He could almost physically feel her walls coming back up. She looked up at him and then towards the door with a look which said it all: I have to go. She was about to pull away when-
As luck would have it, the next song was another from their glory days. As if their personal history had a soundtrack and it had been uploaded to the jukebox.
Ali's favourite; Stevie Knick's Has anyone ever written anything for you?
He used to complain it was too melancholy and depressing. He grew to love it as he had loved her.
What a headfuck this is. We should stop. This can't end well.
Rationally he knew all this, but his body responded by gripping her tighter. She responded by holding him closer, settling in for another song. Like him, she was losing herself in their memories. Delaying reality for a few more minutes.
Resting his chin on top of her head, he wondered if she too wished things were different.
Who would have guessed our lives would have turned out this way? Marriages in shambles, town divided, the Black Hood, my involvement in the murder cover up of Jason Blossom, Ali turning against the Southside and her home.
Hell, if you'd have told me all of this when we ere 17 I would have told them to fuck off.
FP had to suppress a chuckle at how the way things turned out with their kids; Jug and Betty dating. Who would have thought?
FP realised his mind was racing because he didn't want to think about the song ending. There was no way in hell, another personal favourite would be played in a row.
Closing his eyes, he gripped her tighter still, noting how they had completely abandoned the dance charade at this point. He was saddened to feel a wetness against his shirt; she was crying. She turned her face away, trying to hide the fact.
"Hey", holding a hand under her chin, he gently lifted her face up, coercing her into looking at him.
"Oh FP, how did it get to this?".
He had no answers. Buying time, he wiped away a tear, noticing how much her eyes shined when she had been crying.
This woman…. she'll be the death of me.
Closing her eyes at his touch, he couldn't believe he had ever let her go.
Leaning down, he rested his forehead against hers, trying to communicate everything he wanted to say while he could. The song had long since finished ay this time and he knew they didn't have long. Right on cue, her phone buzzed with an incoming call, lighting up her side pocket.
"I should go", she said again, looking torn.
"Don't".
"FP- I ".
Before he knew it, she was kissing him. He responded immediately, cupping her face with one hand, pulling her closer still with the other. She kissed him sweetly but with a gentle urgency. They may not get to do this again. She wanted to be carefree in the arms of her lover, like when they were younger. His hands slid down to cup her arse, trying to pull her even nearer still. She pulled down almost roughly on the back of his neck, kissing him more intensely. He paused, dragging in a ragged breath-
"Ali" he groaned into her neck, kissing just the right spot. She pulled him back up, kissing him more frantically.
Eventually, they had to stop to draw breath, once again resting against one another's foreheads. His dark eyes searched hers; asking the question on both their minds:
"where do we go from here?".
Once again stalling for time, FP tucked a strand of hair behind her hair, stroking her cheek. This time, he kissed her, gently. Lovingly. Tenderly. Like how she should be treated.
Once again, Alice's phone. Her sad eyes were back as she moved in for one last quick kiss before ducking out of his arms. He wanted to pull her back, ask her to leave here. They could go somewhere and continue this. He could take his time: make love to her until she forgot Hal. Until they both forgot everything else. Treat her how she deserved to be treated.
The air around them was tense again as they stood apart, collecting their thoughts and straightening their clothes. They both knew they had to go: FP back to work and Alice back to Hal and Betty.
The back door creaked the rest of the way open, Pop Tate appearing on the other side, startling them. He informed FP the table from earlier was ready to settle their bill.
"I'll be right there".
Pop, being a tactful man, nodded at them both but didn't say anything before heading back inside.
With one last look, Alice turned to leave. She paused on the top step, before gaining her resolve and leaving. Taking a deep breath, he chose to walk back inside, instead of watching her tail lights disappear into the night.