A/N: This onehot is an authorized translation of Vistin's "Es geht nicht um Liebe", online here: h t t p : / / w w w . f a n f i k t i o n . d e / s / 4 c a c 9 2 d b 0 0 0 0 6 3 5 5 0 6 5 0 8 4 d 0.
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Not about Love
Alicia had seen the young woman that left Will's office before, not long ago, and she had told herself then that that woman was only applying for a job. But she was just trying to fool herself. The firm couldn't even afford interns. That woman had been here because of Will, and Alicia couldn't deny that it bothered her.
She called herself to order, closed her lips and when the pretty brunette passed her she forced a smile and a noncommittal look. Then she pressed her files closer to her chest and continued on her way to Will's office.
"Who was that?" she asked, aiming for an impartial tone. Will smiled benignly and glanced over to the hallway.
"Ms. Giada Cabrini, a very fascinating law student," he explained with an open smile. „She kicked me out of the gingerbread case."
Alicia blinked. "What gingerbread case?
Will offered her a chair and cleared away the coffee cups on his table.
"Oh, haven't I told you about my excursion into being a judge? I was chairman in the bloodcurdling evil witch murder case. Until Ms. Cabrini proved that I was biased."
Alicia gave a restrained laugh, even though she didn't feel like laughing at all.
"Ah, I see. The mock trial."
Will threw himself into his chair and folded his hands in front of his stomach.
"So, how's that hit and run case going?" he asked, entirely the boss now, and Alicia swallowed hard before she started to recite the details of their newest case and the more than incriminating evidence against their client.
Will listened, asked questions and pointed out strategies and precedences, everything in a professional, buisinesslike, friendly tone of voice.
She hated him for that. She hated that he was so understanding, that he made it so easy for her to work here. Was it really easy for him? Or was it hell?
She went on, calmly and all business, all lawyer now while in her mind's eye she saw Will standing in front of her door in rumpled sports clothing, casting aside his pride and ambitions for a client and her unborn baby. She remembered Peter's words: "I'd forgotten how nice he is." Nice. Yes. Peter had had no idea what it meant for Will to ask him for help. And Peter… Alicia had had to pull herself together not to presume anything. Somehow she couldn't stop herself. Whenever Peter did something she asked herself what his goal was, what his ulterior motive could be. Now, even Will was in his debt… a thought she didn't like, and she wasn't sure if that was because it was Will or because it could be damaging to her.
"So we have no choice," Will announced, lost in thought as he skimmed through Kalinda's report again. "Try to bluff and get as good a settlement as possible. That's all you're gonna get with a jury."
Alicia nodded and smiled, rising to leave. At the door she turned back again and looked into Will's questioning eyes.
"Will, I…" She trailed off. She had meant to say something, but now she couldn't remember what it was.
"Yes?" Will prodded, blinking.
"Ah, nothing, I'm just a little confused. Thank you." She gave a forced laugh. She had become so accustomed to this mask that she wasn't sure she even remembered how to laugh genuinely.
She walked along the corridor, down the stairs and past Cary's empty office. She had wanted this job so everything would become easier. How could she have imagined that it would get easier for her?
She entered her office and closed the blinds on the glass wall. Then she sank into her chair and buried her face in her hands.
There was nothing but chaos inside her.
She breathed deeply to clear her thoughts. She had a deal with Gold. Why in the world had she done that? Yes, she wanted to stay at this law firm, but she wasn't sure why she wanted it.
It was absurd! The deal she had made to be able to stay had only bound her more tightly to Peter. Hadn't she already done enough to Will? Soon he would see her on every newscast, loyally standing at Peter's side and supporting his campaign. And that even though she had taken this job to get away from Peter in the first place!
She had really tried with Peter. She hadn't left him, she had visited him in prison. She had let him move into her apartment, she had slept with him, spent the whole night with him. But in the morning there had been a bitter aftertaste.
She didn't trust him. No matter how much she tried, she didn't trust him anymore and she never would again!
Someone knocked on her door and Alicia glanced at the reflecting surface of her monitor to check if her tears had ruined her make-up. Then she swiped her palms over her cheeks and called "Come in!"
Will stuck his head in, grinning, and whispered mock stealthily "Busy?"
She smiled back and shook her head. He entered the room with a covered basket under his arm, only when the door shut behind him looking at her more closely.
"Are you okay?" he asked, probably suspicious because of her reddened eyes.
"Yeah, I'm fine," she lied.
He beamed at her, and she wasn't sure if it was because he believed her or because he was glad she spared him the truth.
"We haven't even celebrated yet," he announced and pulled two glasses and a small bottle of champagne out of the basket. "It's an enormous gain for our firm to have Gold as a client. If only ten percent of his clients come to us, we're back in business," he said, opening the bottle. "That really tipped the scales–" He stopped, and breathed out, and Alicia could practically see the strain and cautious professionalism fall off him.
"Thanks, Alicia. Gold might prove to be our lifesaver. These last weeks, the layoffs… it was more than hard." He gave her a glass of champagne. "To you, Alicia"" He lifted his glass and nodded to her.
„To Lockhard and Gardner," she replied and lifted her glass as well. They were standing close to each other. The slight scent of salt and jasmine reached her nose; his suit must have been fresh from the cleaners.
They drank, and Alicia avoided his gaze.
Just a few minutes ago it had been so easy. She had sat directly in front of him, separated only by the edge of his desk. If she had stretched her legs, she would have touched his. But it had been so easy, hidden behind etiquette, files and facts, a distinct technical terminology, and their clearly defined roles. Now, he was here as her friend, thankful for her help. She thought she could hear his steady heartbeat, her own drumming faster and faster.
"Will, I…" she began again, and again without knowing what she wanted to say.
"Yeah?" he asked again. This time it sounded urging, pleading.
"I…" she tried again and shifted her weight to her other foot which brought her imperceptibly closer to him.
He smiled gently, looked into her eyes and reached tentatively for her fingers. She lowered her gaze and watched as he took her hand in his, very slowly and almost awkwardly. She put her glass down and he caught it when it threatened to topple over. They both watched bubbly liquid gush over the low rim of the glass, spill over the edge of the table and pool on the ground.
When they looked up simultaneously she lifted her hand to his face and brushed it across his clean-shaven cheek. Her fingers slid to his neck and she pulled him down to her.
The touch of their lips was intimate but short, because she jerked back almost immediately. A fraction of a second before she closed her eyes she had seen something flash in the corner of her eye. She let go of his hand, pushed herself off his shoulder with her other hand and stepped to the window.
Her reflex was to shut the blinds completely, but a voice in her head that sounded very much like Kalinda warned her that that would be even more suspicious. Alicia's eyes searched the opposite row of windows. The windows here all had reflective coating. There was no sign of a photographer or a camera, just a reflection, a ray of sunlight in the wrong moment, reflected on the wrong surface.
"I'm sorry. I thought I could forget it," Will whispered as he used a napkin to clean up the spilled champagne.
"I'm the one who's sorry. It's not you, it's just… Peter's campaign…"
Tears choked her up as she realized what was happening here. This wasn't about love, it never had been. She knew whom she loved, even if she couldn't admit it, tried to hide it behind facades. Had it been about love, she would have closed the blinds, shutting out the world outside, gone to Will and smiled. Tears ran down her cheeks.
"The deal with Gold, it came at a price," she admitted, using the wall next to the window to support herself.
Without looking up from his napkin Will nodded. He had just said so himself, the firm needed Gold. She watched as, slowly, realization came to him.
This wasn't about love. The world was watching.
