A/N: I was supposed to finish a story for Burn Notice today and then I got this idea and couldn't shake it off. So here we are again. Happy holidays!
You Had Time
"You are a china shop and I am a bull. You are really good food and I am full. I guess everything is timing, I guess everything's been said so I am coming home with an empty head"
He heard her footsteps on the carpet before he saw her, entering his office with two glasses of Scotch. She wore an elegant grey dress and when she sat down on his couch Will wished that they were only colleagues and not the friends they had become over the years; loyal, supporting and honest. At least than he could pretend that none of this hurt as much as it did and lying would not be an act of treason in their kingdom of make-believe justice.
Will took the drink from her offering hand, holding onto it tightly in a frail attempt to find some stability; in alcohol he knew was a dangerous path to walk on and yet everyone seemed to hide behind the solace and apathy it created in one's own life.
"You did the right thing," Diane said painfully sincerely, her words echoing in his mind like constantly ripping a band-aid off of a bleeding, hurting wound.
He tilted his head to one side, contemplating her words. He did the right thing? For who, he asked himself? Alicia? Peter? Or Diane? It was neither about him nor for him that he decided not to convince Alicia to keep on trying – trying what, he cynically asked himself, and found no answer in the depth of his restless mind. He had no plan, had he? Apart from his proclamation of love Alicia had never heard, there was no foundation to build their relationship on, Will mused, and maybe Alicia had been right before when she had said that they would not have lasted. It might be timing, a horrendous phrase for the cowards, he admitted, or else Will feared she simply did not love him the way he had been in love with her since Georgetown. And if that was the case no timing would ever be powerful enough to right two wrongs.
Will looked at Diane, her blonde hair was falling down her face in perfectly primped strands and her lips were sinfully red; she valued appearance, Will knew, and in this moment something in him started hating her principals and demands. This train of thoughts was hypocritical, Will understood, but the world was built on hypocrites and unfortunately he certainly was no exception to the rule. He had once told Alicia that if one dug deep enough one would find bad reasons for any behavior presented, even by the most faithful and loyal of mankind.
"She'll get over it." Her voice sounded almost empathetic and when she blinked, Will supposed she understood the story never told.
You want to know what my plan is. My plan is I love you. I have probably loved you ever since Georgetown.
Will averted his eyes from Diane's inquiring gaze, looking out the window and collecting his thoughts that had been strewn all over his office, hiding beneath the floor boards or behind desks of books and magazines. He blinked quickly, swallowed the insecurity which had arisen in the last weeks of romantic bliss with the woman he had always been denied to have – even when their timing seemed right.
He sighed and looked into the glass of liquid relief; an amber, burning, eclipsing prospect of avoidance he was unwilling to forgo.
"Jep," Will admitted in defeat, "she will."
When he felt the Scotch burning his tongue and the back of his throat, he allowed himself one more moment of truth and weakness. She will, but I'm not sure that I will.
With the last drop of liquor on his tongue he swallowed a resolution he had made a long time ago.
If loving Alicia meant giving her up then he would gladly do so – in comparison to her husband.
The end.