In the closet

Long after the kids had left for the day, Will sat at the piano in the choir room puzzling over his set list for Regionals. He zoned out for a second, noting the darkness outside the window, then turned back to his paper and crossed out yet another lackluster idea. He had prepared two great numbers, but for some reason, it didn't feel like a set yet. He slapped his pen down on top of the piano, sat back on the bench, and groaned as he ran both hands through his hair. He had a vision of how the songs would elevate one another and so far he wasn't satisfied. Will's stomach grumbled and he realized he had worked through dinner for the third time this week. He saw his hours-old coffee sitting atop the piano and decided it was better than nothing. He reached for the mug to take a swig of the cold caffeinated beverage, but in an uncharacteristically clumsy moment, spilled the coffee all over the piano keys.

Aw crap. Brad is gonna kill me, Will thought as he jumped up from the bench. He looked around for some paper towels, but saw nothing suitable to capture the grayish liquid that was now seeping between the ivories. An image of a steel rack towering with paper towels jumped to mind and he ran out the door to visit the once familiar janitorial supply room. Down the hall, he could see a light shining through the supply room door and he stepped up his pace. He arrived just as Edwin, the night janitor, pushed his cleaning cart into the hallway.

"Oh hey, Will."

"Hey Edwin," Will panted, "I just spilled some coffee on the piano. Mind if I grab some paper towels?"

"Sure, you know where they are. Just close the door when you leave. I like to keep it locked during my shift."

"No problem. Thanks."

Will walked into the supply room and stopped suddenly in front of a dusty old chalkboard as an old memory seized his consciousness. Before he could stop himself, he was running his finger along the chalk-filled ridge at the base of the board and remembering a quiet moment with a beautifully flawed redhead.

"Will?"

He heard her voice calling his name and he looked up to see Emma standing in the doorway. As usual, she was wearing his favorite outfit-black skirt with green polka dots and matching green cardigan. These hallucinations are really starting to get on my nerves, Will mumbled to himself. You'd think I could at least imagine a new outfit now and then!

Emma stepped tentatively into the room. "Will, you're talking to yourself. Are you okay?" She paused. He looked a little confused and remained silent so she filled the dead air with another question. "What are you doing here at this hour? Please tell me you aren't moonlighting as a janitor again." She smiled cautiously at him.

It was that last line that brought him back to reality. He closed his eyes tight for a moment to clear his mind for what was sure to be an awkward conversation.

"Uh, no. No." he stammered. "What are you doing here, Emma?"

"College prep seminar. Remember I told you about it a few weeks ago?"

"Oh, right for parents. Yes, yes I remember."

He had tried to forget. She was wearing an emerald green dress that day. She sat across from him in the teacher's lounge prattling on about her idea for engaging parents in the college application process. He barely heard a word he was so focused on the way the color of her dress brought out the golden hue in her eyes. He resolved to stop eating lunch in the teacher's lounge after that particular incident. It's so much harder to get over someone when they insist on chatting it up everyday as if you are best buds. Will decided to play it cool.

"Well, I'm just getting some stuff to clean up a mess I made in the choir room." He grabbed a roll of paper towels from the shelf, tucked it under his arm, and stepped past Emma. "Excuse me."

"Will, wait." she said as she reached out to stop him.

Startled by her hand on his shoulder, Will spun around, knocking his paper-towel hugging arm into the door as he turned. He heard a loud click as it closed...a second too late. He looked up at the ceiling, closed his eyes, and let out a heavy sigh.

"We're locked in," he said.

"What? No, we can't be!" Emma said as she lunged for the door. She grabbed the knob and discovered it wouldn't turn.

"Didn't believe me, huh?"

She turned, exasperated, and continued frantically pulling on the door. "Will, what are we going to do?," she cried as she banged on the door. "Help, we're stuck in here. Someone please help!" she yelled.

"Will, why aren't you freaking out with me?"

He looked down at his wrist and noted the time. Tapping his watch he said matter-of-factly, "Because I know that Edwin is currently scrubbing the floors in the gym...which is in the East wing...about as far away as you can get from this room."

"When will he be back?" Emma said with more than a hint of desperation in her voice.

Will paused, then replied casually, "Definitely before the end of his shift"

"Well when does his shift end?"

He looked at his watch again. "About 6 hours from now."

"6 hours! But I need to get home!" Emma pouted. "Carl is going to be worried."

"Well, hopefully he'll be back for his break," Will said distractedly. "Oooh," Will mused as he walked to the back of the room and scanned Edwin's locker. "I wonder if he brought a snack he wouldn't mind sharing. I'm famished." He moved a box aside and hit the jackpot. "Sweet! Cookies!"

"Will, how can you eat at a time like this? I can't believe we are stuck in a disgusting janitorial closet. It smells like a New York City subway station in here.

"Really? I think it smells like cleaning fluid. Not your favorite scent anymore, eh?"

Emma rolled her eyes and turned toward the door. Her petulant side wasn't as cute as he remembered. Will braced himself for more whining.

She sat down abruptly, crossing her legs and folding her arms across her chest, taking up residence in the only chair in the room. She bounced her leg up and down a few times, lost in thought. Will watched her for a moment then plopped himself down on the floor, ripping the package of cookies open and popping an entire Oreo into his mouth. "Mmmmm..." he said.

Emma watched Will sit against the wall with his knees in the air, digging into the stolen goodies. It's just like him to make light of a serious situation...and look, he's getting crumbs all over the floor!, she thought.

Will ignored Emma for the moment, but felt her irritation filling up the room like gaseous fumes. He couldn't resist striking a match. "So how's the adorable, fun-loving, singing dentist? Has he convinced you to eat bananas ON your cereal yet?"

Emma glared at him. "This is hardly the time for that, Will." She looked away while he continued to stare in her direction, eyebrows raised, patiently awaiting a response. "And he's fine. We're fine. I love that he wants to help me with my...issues."

Failing to notice the irony, Emma grabbed a paper towel and walked to the sink behind her to dampen it with water. She stepped over Will's legs and crouched next to him to wipe up the crumbs he had dropped.

"I see he's working wonders," Will quipped.

Emma glared at him, stood up, threw out the used paper towel, and returned grumpily to her chair.

"So why did you want me to wait anyway?" he asked in a slightly less sarcastic tone.

Emma continued to glare at him for a second and then she turned her head toward the door. He may have been imagining it, but he thought he saw her face soften a bit as she considered his question. Emma bit her lip and looked down at the floor. "Um...I'm not sure...I guess I just wish things could be the way they used to be. I mean, you know, like we could, um, be friends again...the way we were when YOU were married." She looked up at Will hesitantly.

He didn't wait to respond. "Things were different then, Em. We didn't have any history together. And I didn't even KNOW you had feelings for me until after my marriage collapsed. You knew I loved you..." He paused, unsure if he should continue, but this thought had been running on replay in his head for months. "...and you married him anyway."

Emma didn't know what to say. She had avoided being alone with Will since her spontaneous wedding to Carl for this very reason. But before she could respond, he said, "You know what? It doesn't matter. I've put it behind me. Sure, we can be friends again. I'm good."

Wanting desperately to believe him, Emma said, "Really Will? It means so much to me to hear you say that." She smiled, relieved.

Will gave her a brief smile back and then got up to shake the rest of the crumbs off his legs. He was proud of himself for letting her off the hook, yet needed to collect himself. Part of him was dying to grill her over an open flame, but the more rational part had decided that dwelling in misery was unbecoming. So he shook it off and changed the subject.

"Well then, friend, it seems we have some time to kill. How would you like to help me with my set list for Regionals?"

Emma clapped her hands and giggled, "Oh Will, I'd love to help you!"

Will lost his train of thought for a moment. Emma's childlike enthusiasm was endearing. He missed that side of her... Stop! he thought. Just stop. Forcing himself to concentrate, he started, "Okay...so I'm thinking it would be fun to do some country." Emma's eyes opened wider and she nodded excitedly. Energized by her reaction, Will became more animated. "Shannon and I had a blast singing country songs at The Burr a few weeks ago and New Directions has done only one country performance before. Starting competitions with a duet has worked out well for us"...Will paused dramatically. He was enjoying Emma hanging on his every word. "Soooooo...what do you think about Rachel and Puck kicking it off with "Islands in the Stream?" he asked hopefully.

Emma squealed, "Oh Will, I LOVE that song. Dolly Parton is one of my favorite artists!"

Will popped up off the floor with a giant smile on his face and said, "Great, let's work on the choreography together."

Emma laughed nervously. "Are you sure? I mean, I'm not...I'm not very good at that."

"Just follow my lead," he smirked.

Will grabbed her right hand and placed it on his shoulder. He put his left hand on her waist while he wrapped his other hand around hers and stiffened his posture as if they were about to begin a Viennese waltz. She looked anxious. He busted out laughing and let go of her hand. "Relax, Em. I'm just kidding! Do you really think the kids would let me get away with ballroom choreography?" Emma laughed, slightly embarrassed, and took a step back from Will. "No, of course not!"

He started to pace, an artist at work. "Okay, so here's what I had in mind. I'm going to start over here and I want you to stand about 10 feet away with your back toward me." Emma took a few steps toward the lockers and followed Will's direction, turning away. She smiled as she heard him hum the first few bars of the music. Unselfconciously lost in his vision of the performance, Will launched himself into Kenny Rogers's lyrics while dancing his way over to Emma...

"Baby when I met you there was peace unknown. I set out to get you with a fine tooth comb. I was soft inside." He cradled her cheek in his hand, seductively looked into her eyes and sang the rest of the verse, "There was somethin' going on." Will couldn't tell if he was getting to her the way she was getting to him, but he was pleasantly surprised when she opened her mouth to sing.

Emma knew the lines as well as she knew her own name. She joined in, "You do something to me that I can't explain. Hold me closer and I feel no pain. Every beat of my heart; we got somethin' goin on." Will swooned. He took hold of Emma-this time in a square-dancing more than a ballroom kind of way-and twirled her away from him and then back.

They continued to sing to each other, "Tender love is blind, it requires a dedication. All this love we feel needs no conversation. We ride it together, ah-ah. Makin' love with each other, ah-ah." Will tried to focus on the choreography, but he found himself captivated by the lyrics and wishing she meant what she was singing to him.

"Islands in the stream

That is what we are

No one in between

How can we be wrong?

Sail away with me to another world

And we rely on each other, ah-ah

From one lover to another, ah-ah

Will spun Emma into his body and wrapped his arms around her from behind. They moved their hips from side to side in unison, then he twirled her back out, an arm's length away. He couldn't wait to try THAT move again. He tried to pull her back in, but her hand slipped from his and she fell backwards into a rack of shelves on which a cleaning bucket was resting precariously. Will gasped as he heard the clanging of supplies and watched Emma fall gracelessly to the ground just in time to get doused by a full bucket of brownish sludgy water.

Emma jumped up as if the bucket had been filled with poisonous spiders, shaking her hands in the air and crying, "Oh God, Oh God, Oh God, Will, Oh God!"

Will grabbed her tightly by the shoulders and said forcefully, "Emma, it's okay. You're going to be okay. I've got you. It's going to be okay."

She continued hysterically, "Will, I'm covered in filthy water...water that was used to mop floors...floors that are covered in dirt from shoes...shoes that walk in germ-filled places like bathrooms...Oh God, Oh God, I need a decontamination shower NOW!" Emma started to sob.

Will took her into his arms and held her close as he whispered over and over, "It's going to be okay, Em. We'll get through this. Breathe." The last thing he wanted was for her to start hyperventilating. Actually, the last thing he wanted was to release her from his arms. Will was suddenly overwhelmed by the feelings he had held at bay for much of the last three months. He had dreamed of holding Emma this way, of sharing intimate moments, of a future that should have looked so different than it was turning out to be. He knew the tears were coming and he took a deep breath to hold them back. She needed him. He couldn't need her.

Emma continued to cling to Will as her sobbing turned to whimpering. He felt her relax just a little in his arms. He rubbed her soaking back soothingly. When she seemed calmer, he pulled back to look at her face. She looked back at him somewhat blankly. He wanted to snap her out of it. "Emma, I want to help. There's no shower here, but I promise to take you to the ER for the full Silkwood as soon as we get out of here." He smiled softly and paused for a reaction. Her eyes showed signs of life. She nodded her head slowly. He continued, "What can I do? Do you want to change out of those clothes? I can probably find something for you to wear in these lockers. Tell me what you need." Emma gazed into his eyes as if they held the key to retaining her grip on sanity. Will waited for some clue about what he should do next. She still seemed stunned, anxious, and...confused?

"You," she said, barely audibly.

Now it was Will's turn to be confused. Brows furrowed, he hoped she would say more. Emma spoke again, slightly louder and more confidently, "I need YOU, Will." She looked at him almost apologetically, then down at the floor, ashamed. She stepped back. Will's arms fell to his side and he stared at her intently, wishing his heart would stop swelling long enough for his head to absorb this new, possibly awesome information.