Eye-to-Eye

The Good Wife: A Georgetown Chronicle

In his opinion, she was too serious for her own good. In hers, he slid by on his good looks and charm. She was looking towards the future and he was looking for the next adventure. Clearly, they didn't see eye-to-eye, but nonetheless, an inexplicable and inescapable connection cuts across Will's and Alicia's differences.

-1-

It was their Friday night ritual - a way to release the build up of tension from a long week of study. Of course, Emma would invariably find an agreeable male companion to keep her company after the bar closed, but not Alicia. She didn't believe in one night stands. In fact, she didn't engage in many vices. Emma once said the only thing that prevented her from being referred to as "Saint Alicia" was her indulgence in occasionally getting shit-faced, down-on-the-ground drunk.

They were celebrating for a variety of reasons - they were one week closer to the semester's end, and, it was a classmate's birthday. That's why they were at Widow's Peak instead of their usual haunts. If she'd had a choice, Alicia would have preferred Cava; it was relaxed and the people were down-to-earth. At Widow's Peak, the regulars seemed loud and brash; and, worst of all, there was a karaoke stage. Just looking at it made her grimace.

It was almost midnight but the crowd was only getting larger. Alicia was feeling good - buzzed but not messily so. "I'm just saying that Wexler seems more intent to indulge the blowhards that cater to his vanities rather than to the merits of the actual argument."

"Uh huh."

Alicia waved a hand in front of her friend's face. Emma was facing the stage, fiddling with the contents of her drink. "You're not the slightest bit interested in what I'm talking about, are you?"

"Not interested in hearing you wax on about idealism over reality? But you do it so infrequently."

"Ha ha. Ok, I get the message." She took a sip of her beer. "Who have you got your sights set on tonight?"

Emma grinned wickedly. "What makes you think I've set my sights on anybody?"

"Because you're doing that thing again with your mouth and the cherry." She laughed as Emma abruptly dropped the cherry back into her cocktail. "I can read you like a book."

Her friend pouted and then leaned conspiratorially. "That guy. Over there. By the stage."

Alicia scanned the stage area. Internally, she did a double take. It had to have been the man standing casually near the speakers - tall, dark-haired and so good looking that it made Alicia's cheeks turn red. "Oh. Wow."

"Delicious, right?"

She nodded, dumbly. Though they stood well over ten feet away, he must have sensed their admiring eyes because he stopped whatever he was saying to his friend and turned to stare back at them. Alicia quickly turned around to face the bar again. Her heart thudded. What was she, thirteen years old again? She should turn back, let him know he hadn't flustered her. "Bartender!" Maybe after a refill of her beer.

Alicia eyed Emma, who was still facing the stranger's way and was probably locked into his gaze. Envy flashed through her - Emma had no concerns about appearing too brazen. She did what she wanted and she didn't care what anyone else might think about that. Emma was going to do well as a trial lawyer. "Ok, wish me luck."

"You won't need it!" She turned just enough to watch Emma sashay away. She faced the bar again.

"Ally Cavanaugh, come to serenade us with a ballad or two?"

Her good luck, she thought, as the bartender refilled her glass. She fought to restrain the eye roll. Speaking of blowhards, the biggest one of them all had to have taken a seat beside her. She poured a generous mouthful and took her time to respond. "You know I don't like being called Ally."

He laughed like she had just said the most clever thing in the world. Was she supposed to be flattered that he was paying attention to her? Her mind fluttered to the man by the stage - he was probably engaging in witty banter with Emma right this moment, while she was probably going to rehash some classroom debate from earlier in the week. "Why not? Alicia's so… formal." He leaned in closer. "Ally is much more free-spirited. Don't you want to be free-spirited?"

"I don't." She hated how wooden and proper she sounded.

He gave a drawn out sigh. "Fine. Alicia. Happy now?" The way he emphasized the "li" in her name made it sound more like "Aliiiiiicia."

She finally turned to look him in the eye. "No. And by the way, the only reason Wexler even ruled in your favor is because you practically memorized his book. You and I both know your argument was much less sound than mine."

"And yet, I got the win and not you. Do you want to know why, Aliiicia?"

"Stop it."

"Stop what, Aliiicia?"

"Stop saying my name like that!"

"I can't call you Ally and now I can't call you by your full name. You're a very tricky girl, you know that?"

She drew in a deep breath, closed her eyes and when she opened them again, his smirking face was still there. Lord help me because I'm about to start a bar brawl. "I'm going over there" - she pointed towards the vicinity of the stage - "You can stay here and call me whatever you like."

He called out as she began to walk away, "Wexler ruled in my favor because I knew how to get Wexler's attention."

"You think that you're going to be able to do that in court? Distract the judge and jury from the truth?"

"Alicia, a word of advice." He actually looked serious. "Sometimes the truth won't matter. Sometimes it's all about how you play the game."

"It's people like you that give lawyers a bad reputation." She felt sorry for him and his cynical way of thinking. Maybe that was the way it ran in some circles but she wasn't going to engage in those murky waters. She was going to make a difference, she was going to be an example to follow. She'd known this about herself since she was a young girl playing Supreme Court Justice. The Will Gardners in life were just going to have to adjust to that.

He had pushed her too far, Will realized. Idealists like her were so easy to rile up. He leaned back, watched the way she moved stiffly through the crowd. Some women were naturally the center of attention. Women like that - like her friend Emma - could part a crowd without ever having to do anything but stand up. Alicia Cavanaugh was not that kind of woman. Instead, she faded into the background. People tended to discount her because she was the quiet type. Will himself hadn't even realized they shared a class their first year in law school until the semester was half over.

He didn't know why he had started the conversation with her. Maybe it had to do with the way she glared at him throughout Wexler's class - he could tell she was getting progressively more frustrated with the results of their debate. Will considered himself a fairly easygoing person - he was well-liked on campus by most of the other students and by the faculty. He didn't ruffle feathers, unless he had to. He made an exception when it came to Alicia - he purposefully took every opportunity to ruffle Alicia's feathers. And he enjoyed every minute of it. The first time she'd opened her mouth, he had her pegged as his grandmother would call it, "uppity". It didn't matter if she spoke the truth straight from God's mouth. She needed to dial it down a few notches. Will wasn't sure when he had decided he was the person for that particular job.

He shook his head and shifted his attention to a beautiful woman sitting several feet away. She was wearing an eye-catching top that looked like a disco ball. It accentuated her curves in a becoming fashion. After a few minutes, she gave him a smile. He saw his chance to strike. He unfolded his tall, lanky frame from the bar stool and walked over to her. It was Friday night and the weekend stretched out in front of him. He was going to enjoy every second of it. Alicia Cavanaugh receded into the back of his mind, like she did with almost everyone else.

Emma had disappeared. So had the man from the stage. Alicia stood awkwardly amongst a crowd of people. She saw familiar faces nearby but had no desire to socialize. She needed a breather. The back door was propped open and the alley way it led into looked empty. She quickly ducked out and sucked in the cold, fresh air.

"You, too, huh?"

"Who's there?" The voice came from the darker shadows of the alley. She fumbled for the keys in her person, gripping it in between her fingers, ready to use them as weapons.

It was him. The man from the stage. He was alone and held his hands up as if he were surrendering. He looked vaguely amused at her defensive stance. "Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. I'm just out here for a smoke." He cocked his head towards the cigarette in one upraised hand.

Alicia relaxed and let out an embarrassed laugh. "I'm sorry, too. I'm being overly cautious."

To her amazement, he leaned against a spot on the wall that was next to her. "No, you're right to be cautious. You never know, right?"

He had blue eyes. The kind of blue that reminded her of warm and carefree days spent canoeing on Lake Michigan. "Are you saying I should be wary of you?"

"Well, no. I'm pretty harmless."

"I'm sure all the serial killers say that too."

His laughter was infectious. "I see I've dug myself into a hole. Let's start over."

"Yes, let's. I'm Alicia." She stuck out her hand.

He took it. His palm was smooth but had a few calloused edges. "It's very nice to meet you, Alicia. I'm Peter Florrick."

It was dawn when Will left Disco Ball's apartment. The sun had just risen and the streets were quiet. He walked over to the diner near campus. The waitress gave him a wave of her hand - he was a regular there; he could never fully concentrate on his studies at his place but here he could. He spent many late nights/early mornings drinking up their coffee.

The door bell jangled as the hot plate of perfectly runny eggs was set in front of him. He saw Alicia seat herself in a corner booth by the window. How did she manage to look so fresh so early in the morning? With her rosy cheeks and dark hair, she looked like a live-action version of Snow White. He groaned as she pulled out several textbooks from a giant purse. Of course. Typical Alicia.

He should finish eating, go home, fall asleep for a few more hours and then meet up for his weekly basketball game. He peeked at Alicia again. Her brow was already furrowed in deep concentration as she tried to read a passage in her book while pour sugar into her own cup of coffee. She let out a little yelp as the sugar cascaded into her lap. Will grinned. He was going to have fun ruining her Saturday morning study jam. "Aliiiiicia, good morning!"