A/N: This is for the extraordinary Mary (marysunshine81), the most Lockhartian of the women I know :D. We need more people like her in this world. As a prompt for the story I offered her she came up with this scene: Will's POV of the last night at Lockhart/Gardner before Diane leaves to be on the Supreme Court of Illinois. Do thank her for this one and for generally being an awesome person!
"Clara told me that you haven't yet decided what to do with my office."
He had jokingly thought about transforming it his own personal play-room or about expanding his office so that he could change corner whenever he wished to.
"Do I put a pool table or a massage-bed? It's an Hamletic doubt."
She smiled.
"I see."
He would miss that smile.
The truth behind his indecision was a lot less goliardic and much more Freudian. It was simple, really. He wanted to hang on to Diane as long as possible.
He took the scotch she was handing him.
"And here I thought you wanted to leave everything as it is and turn it into a Diane Lockhart shrine."
"Do you think I could charge tickets for the admission? I'll need whatever profit I can get in the next few months."
"I don't see why not. You were lucky enough to have a brilliant partner."
She had willfully ignored his reference to the financial trouble. She had been right in doing so. They both needed the atmosphere of lightness and jokes to last just a little while longer.
"I was. I am."
He had thanked the stars more than once for putting Diane in his path, for her presence during the series of horrible years he had endured.
"Good, glad you changed your mind."
Changed his mind? When had he ever implied otherwise? Then the light bulb clicked in his head. She couldn't possibly be referring to all those years before, could she?
"I can't believe you're still hanging on to that!"
"I'm not hanging on to it, but I haven't forgotten. I mean, how could I? You came in a flippant, street-smart lawyer from Baltimore that considered himself an hotshot. Do you remember your first motion? I had come in to witness the absolute talent that was Will Gardner and then..."
She had burst out laughing at the memory. Had he had the same impulsive reaction he would have spilled his drink all over his suit. Instead, she had hold on to it with the same poise and elegance that always emanated from her.
"And instead of showing solidarity to a colleague in need, you told Stern that the puppy needed Chicago-training. I still can't believe you did that. You knew him already. You knew his smug, you're-an-insect face and you had him use it on me on the very first day. Cruel."
The humiliation of that day of a lifetime before still burned a bit. Stern calling him in his office, his smile turning into an accusatory tirade. Yet, somehow, that first motion had taught him never to underestimate.
"What about you? You stormed into my office saying that whoever recurred to those blatantly-childish undercutting techniques could not be a person to admire. You regretted already the day you signed that partnership agreement and you swore that you would make me pay for him callous behavior. And I was the childish one."
He chuckled at his affronted speech. Crushed by the boss and thus needing to recover his dignity with Diane.
"I was rightfully pissed."
"You called me the Wicked Witch of the MidWest for months in retaliation."
He had come up with that moniker at the bar, where some associates were talking about Diane. But it hadn't truly had the reaction he was expecting. He didn't know Diane one bit at the time.
"Oh, please. You loved that nickname. It gave you a court-creed of badassness. Even Stern respected you more."
Her devilish hint of a smile was all he needed as an answer. Then her tone got nostalgic.
"Lately I've been thinking that he saw something in us. Stern. He perceived that we were going to work as partners."
"Or he needed a female partner to fend off harassment suits and a younger stud to be appealing to a certain demographic. Who could tell with him?"
"In any case, I think we ought to thank him."
"Fine, a toast to Stern for bringing us together."
The crystal clinked for the departed free-spirit that had drawn the ampersand between Will's name and Diane's.
Stern deserved the finder's fee but they were the ones they should bestow the praise on. They had been at the same time kindred and complementary spirits. At each other's throats whenever there was a disagreement and ready to enjoy a nightcap at the end of the day.
There were plenty of foes outside the walls of their offices. Inside those rooms, when the lights that could be seen in the skyscrapers were mostly for show, only friends were allowed.
He approached the bottle and poured her another drink.
"We can't let Stern have all the fun, can we?"
"You're such an egocentric person. We can't even honor the dead without you butting in."
"I'm sorry. Was I the only one that wanted to go after Stern's clients, merely minutes after the discovery of his death? You already made a list."
They both looked at each other, with that mirroring, complicit glint they had mastered so well over the years and their laugh started simultaneously.
"We are bad people, Will. That's why we worked all this time."
"Who will I be bad with now?"
His tone had been infused with the mirth of the previous moment but towards the end of his question a disconsolate inflection had emerged.
Too pitiful.
Diane surprised him by abandoning her standing position and reclaiming her presidential chair, drink still in hand.
"You can say it. I'm sitting down, so I won't faint and the ground you're standing on is pretty solid. It won't swallow you if you say you're going to miss me."
Her smile was contagious and he didn't remember what he was afraid of. He dismissed his brazen self and chose to be honest.
"I'm going to miss you."
There. The absolute truth. Even a few years before he had been exultant at the perspective of being the only King of the legal reign they had built. But when his first indictment had come, Diane had proved herself to be a Chicago-friend. Someone to rely on. Someone to trust.
Someone to trust.
Someone that was worthy of his trust.
Those people were of the rarest breed, and in the last few months he had painfully understood just how incapable he was at spotting them. Yet, despite the black hole that had absorbed all of his feelings, the woman in front of him was still able to recall in him the old Will. She could attribute to him all the sappy adjectives in the vocabulary. He still would elaborate on his last sentence.
"I'm going to miss our late-night drinks and chats..."
He paused to gauge her reaction.
"And... I'm going to be very disappointed if there is only one item on the list of things you're going to miss about me."
God, Diane! The yin to his yang, the alpha to his omega!
"I'm going to miss your sarcastic quips and sharp humor. Our impromptu dances. Your diplomacy with clients that needed to be courted, your no-nonsense attitude with the others. I'm going to miss the half of the duo that backed me when the children fought over nothing. I'm definitely going to miss your connection to the best ballistic expert."
Her responding snicker gave him the courage to venture into the very personal.
"I'm going to miss knowing that whatever trouble came my way at work, there was someone that would share the burden, a dauntingly-awesome woman that looked out for the firm and for me. I'm going to miss our friendship."
Silence. Maybe he had overstepped one of their invisible boundaries.
"Aren't you being a little overdramatic?"
What? He was being revealing raw emotions and she was teasing? He smirked nonetheless.
"Excuse me, I'm spilling my heart here. Have a little respect."
"You won't miss our friendship Will because it won't end. I'll be in Springfield just for the court proceedings. I'll be busy at my office here in Chicago but other than that..."
That sounded a bit like "call me, we're going to set up something soon". Not good.
"Is the next sentence "we're going to see each other aaaaaaaaaaaaaall the time" like all the girls say at the end of the school-year and it never happens?"
"I was going to be serious but now that you've called me a school-girl I'm not sure you deserve it anymore."
"Don't Supreme Court Justices rise above all the teasing and the calling of names?"
"If they do, it must be a quality acquired with the robe. I don't have it yet."
Jousting around with Diane was one of the most entertaining things he could think of doing. He was truly afraid of the end of their very special and indefinable relationship.
"So you're giving me permission to call you even when you're in Springfield? We are bound by confidentiality rules. What would we talk about? Please don't tell me we are going to be those people that talk about the weather. It's cold in Chicago, how about there? This temperature is crazy for this month."
"If you start talking like that I'm going to be hanging up, so no, we're not going to be those people. We don't need to break privilege. If you just say David Lee I'll know to complete the sentence with "is being a pain in the ass" and I'm going to be giving all the scoops on the Justices. Plus, once I marry him, I'll be able to order Kurt around much more easily. I'll send him your way whenever you need him."
That was excellent news. Kurt was clearly the best and it would give him an excuse to poke around in his wife's business.
"You have it all figured out. Then answer me this: Who will help me the next time I inevitably get chosen as a test case for Murphy's Law?"
Once again his mood had shifted while talking. He was being suddenly very contemplative.
"You'll have Kalinda."
And he was mightily thankful for that. He wouldn't know how to survive his current situation without her. Was it so wrong for him to need Diane too?
"Kalinda is great but she has one big flaw: She's not you. She can't help me manage the firm in distressed times."
"I'm sorry for the timing, Will. I would have preferred going away once we were on steadier footing."
He had been careless. He didn't want her to blame herself or her change of career for anything.
"Don't be. I protest too much, don't I? It's not really my pocket that is hurting. But the wound on my back still needs tending to. I liked having people around that were on my side."
"Me leaving this office doesn't mean me leaving your side."
"Aren't you required to be on The Governor's side?"
"Maybe, until the Confirmation, which is days away. Nobody said anything about her side. And even if they did, I can take Peter's henchmen anytime."
He kind of wanted to witness a demolition of Eli or of the dirty campaign guy splendidly executed by Diane Lockhart.
"Good."
"And when at my Confirmation party she sees you me and Kalinda laughing..."
"You, me and Kalinda? What about your future husband?"
"He needs to be punished for something."
Poor Kurt. Not even married and already in the dog-house.
"Do I want to know for what?"
"Do you?"
Her glare was much more eloquent than many speeches.
"No."
"Right answer. So I plan on abandoning him among the EMILY's LIST people for a while."
He laughed, and concentrated in forming a mental image of him taking out his gun and firing a warning shot or two so that it would drown all the images that had popped up in his head at the mere mention of Her.
"And when she sees the trio she has left behind, she'll realize what she has lost."
"And what is that?"
"Our support. Your friendship."
He hazarded asking a question that had been tormenting him ever since she had left.
"Is that worth something? I've been wondering lately."
"You're fishing for compliments, now, aren't you?"
"Of course."
But she wasn't fooled. Something in his countenance or in his voice or in his eyes must have alerted her to the lie.
"No, you're not. Really, Will?"
"It's just... If I've ever been a good friend to someone it has been to her. And it meant nothing."
"You have been a good friend to plenty of people and it is worth a lot."
"Not to you."
She hadn't said "I told you so" when the whole affair with Wendy Scott-Carr had blown up in his face. She had saved him the seat during the suspension he had brought on himself, she hadn't made him pay for the damage he had procured to the firm. What had he done for her?
"What?"
"I have been a trouble-maker."
"Which was precisely what I needed. I was uptight, all scared that people would think less of me because of how I made partner or because I was a woman. You mellowed me out, Will. You have this great capacity of making people feel at ease. I learned in a relatively short amount of time that when I was around you, I never had to try so hard at projecting the right image and it felt so marvelous to be that free. I have envied that quality ever since."
It was in the vicinity of what Martha* had told him at the beginning of his career. It made sense. Diane and Martha were both spectacularly-brave and awe-inspiring women.
"Lately you have been hiding it. You've been trying to be cold, inattentive, curt. You can't let her rob you of what made Will Gardner stand out in the sea of brassy and insolent lawyers. It's bad for business."
She didn't miss a thing, even during tumultuous times. He had been hiding it, afraid of being hurt again. But, as always, she was right. People that found themselves in a law firm needed to be able to drop their guards for lawyers to do their job properly.
"I don't trust my judgment anymore."
"For God's sake, Will, get out of this funk. You don't need to trust clients, you just need to take their money, so there. As for other people, who in the world has two watchdogs like me and Kalinda? You're all set. And stop making this all about you. I'm the one who is leaving."
Her peculiar mix of care and matter-of-fact attitude was another one of her qualities.
"You're right. Do you think that you'll be as effective at scolding me by phone?"
"Are you doubting my scolding powers? After all these years?"
"Nope, sorry. A toast to your scolding powers! May they be well applied to the entire legislative body of Illinois. They sure as hell need them."
"You can bet on it. I will be ruthless."
"I hope your Justices buddies will provide a lively discussion."
"Why?"
"You'll miss the arguing."
After a lawyer had been made, putting a robe on her would not be enough to undo the past.
"That's what Kurt is for. Many types of arguing."
She talked of her future husband affectionately and he truly hoped that they would manage to stay together.
"I'm happy for you two. He's nothing like what I would have imagined for you and yet miraculously it works between you two."
"Yeah, well, apparently I'm a Saint."
"A Saint?"
"I'm in the business of making miracles happen. I'm about to marry Kurt and I sustained a partnership with you for so many years."
"You can add that to your CV. Skills: Performs Miracles. That's bound to catch the recruiter's attention."
"Too bad I won't ever look for a job again then."
"Yeah, it's a pity."
"I believe in the concept of partnership, Will. The judges will be either allies or opponents. They are never going to be partners. You will always remain my true work-partner."
That was terrific to hear.
"Do you have a handkerchief? I'm getting misty-eyed."
"Ok, the evening is degenerating. Come on, walk me to get a cab."
"Not even a last dance? I have the perfect song."
He had thought about it a few days before and he felt ridiculous and spontaneous enough to try what he had planned.
"Fine"
He set his phone to the song and took her in his arms, gently swaying. After a few seconds, the Rembrandts' voice could be heard in the office.
"So no one told you life was gonna be this way It's like you're always stuck in second gear
Your jobs a joke, you're broke, your love life's D.O.A.
And it hasn't been your day, your week, your month,
or even your year
but..."
The effervescent tempo of the song lead him to turn her around a few times. When the chorus arrived, he left her hands and playing an imaginary guitar sang:
"I'll be there for you
When the rain starts to pour
I'll be there for you
Like I've been there before
I'll be there for you
'Cuz you're there for me too..."
She laughed, stopped him, turned the song off and with an indulgent and fond smile said:
"You're one heartwarmingly-delightful, strangely-indispensable, out-of-tune idiot. Let's go."
"I'll have it written on my tombstone."
"Please do."
They each grabbed what was theirs in the room. He let her close the door of her office one last time. She took a moment for herself, to put an end to that phase of her life. Then, her arm in his, they walked their very personal aisle.
"The Diane Lockhart Museum would fit perfectly on that door."
"I'll think about it."
When the ping announced that the elevators' doors were about to close, they both looked at each other, smiling but with their eyes watery.
"This must be our version of hugging."
"It must be" he agreed.
When they reached the ground floor, the moment had passed. From the cubicle, emerged the King and his Queen, or more accurately the Queen and her King, head held high, two conquering generals who had won battle after battle always maintaining an united front.
Two partners.
A few weeks later, he sent to Diane an heavy package with a note.
"I'm big about reminders. Good Luck. W."
When she got around to destroy the carefully-wrapped, festive, paper, she would find a very familiar black plaque.
On it, in silver letters, what would always be the truth.
"Lockhart & Gardner"
* Martha is a woman I made up in my one-shot "The Great Gardner". It's enough to know that she was one of Will's first clients.