Alicia Florrick spent her days thinking, her nights thinking, pretty much every waking moment that wasn't spent in Peter's arms thinking of anything, everything and nothing simultaneously. There were 2 other places Alicia didn't think, and they also involved her wet and naked. A bath, either before, after, or with a large glass of wine, was guaranteed to stop her brain for at least a few minutes. Showers had a tendency to be too quick to shut off her train of thought for too long, and she was usually getting ideas or drafting motions between rinsing the shampoo out and shaving her underarms. Tonight however, despite the time crunch that negated her planned leisurely soak, she was having a lovely moment of non-thought standing under the invigoratingly hot spray… until a knocking at the door and a muffled message from Grace brought her out of her reverie.
She instantly began pondering who Garry Hargroves was, what case he might be connected with, how he knew where she lived, and what he would want at 9:17 at night. As she reluctantly rinsed and turned the dial to off, she watched the scented lather coil its way down the drain until another knock sounded and Grace relayed a final clue, so Alicia at least had the "who" figured out by the time she knotted the tie on her white terry cloth robe.
She stepped out of her bedroom to see Cary standing in her living room. It spoke a small degree to the changed level in their relationship that he hadn't taken his jacket off. Yes, it could be argued that it was a business call not a social one, or that he was really intending it to be a quick visit. But if she knew him as well as she thought, he would've shed his jacket while working at the office. He'd re-donned it to head over here, and had left it on while he'd been waiting.
Then he dropped his bombshell and all extraneous thought fled her mind. This wasn't possible. Good that they caught it, but rotten luck on the timing of the whole thing. She was running through information like a wildfire, until she hit a brick wall of conclusion. It was not a good feeling.
"We have to run the fastest trial in history. Oh, Cary…" She bit her lip in a visible display of nerves, and Cary allowed himself to be affected.
He had received an office of his own; even partially owing to Alicia being moved into a corner space, it was still a step up, as was being asked to vet and help select a new junior associate. But he missed her. His new office had space, chairs where a couch should be, and that distinct "new office with new furniture" smell that completely lacked any trace of Alicia. The minute particles of hand lotion and perfume, the residue of thought processes and late night brainstorms, the vestige of maternal affection and emotional swings- there was simply none of Alicia's lingering presence in his new office… and Cary missed it. At least he missed it enough to notice it was missing.
He missed turning his chair around and sharing her desk when they were working, so they could talk or make notes on each other's papers or just make ridiculous faces at one another and see if anyone could catch them. He missed meeting for drinks and talking about the inconsequential occurrences of everyday. He missed being invited to dinner despite his constant refusal, or the way she would check in on him, just to make sure he was eating and sleeping and not stressing much more than necessary. He missed Mom-licia. And he missed the rare instances when he got to check on her, make sure she was alright, give her back a little of the comfort and support she gave him when he needed it.
Cary was suddenly glad he hadn't phoned in his news, that he'd come over. A disconnected voice on the telephone saying what he was about to say would not have carried so much weight.
She was distracted, thinking so hard he could almost smell the burning rubber, and staring at the floor with a worried expression when she felt a hand on her arm, and a voice instructing her to look up. She obeyed and found herself struck by the warm light in the eyes of her friend, Cary. She was glad to see him; she'd missed him terribly. He was looking at her in that steady way, a little smile stretching his mouth just a bit, and she felt herself relax.
"Don't worry. If anyone can pull it off, it's you." Her lips curved into an answering smile, and the urge to hug him caught her off guard with its intensity. She gulped, dug her fingers a little tighter into her crossed arms, and settled on a quiet "thank you" instead.
He was almost at the door when he heard his name, and turned back to look at her. "I know it's late, but… do you want to stay for dinner? Just leftovers and some wine, but it's homemade. The leftovers, not the wine. I don't have the time for homebrew right now." He chuckled softly at her rambling inducement, and seriously thought about saying yes, about letting her have this little moment. Instead, he took the out she'd unthinkingly provided. "Thanks but… you're right. It's late, and we both have a ton of work tomorrow."
She looked a little disappointed as she gave a nod of acceptance, but he surprised both of them with what came next. "I'll take a rain check, though. You win your case, we go out to celebrate. Deal?" She didn't say anything, but this nod, this smile shouted her happy agreement.
They said their good nights and stood on opposite sides of the door for a moment before plunging back into their nights a little lighter than they had been.
A/N: a little Cary-licia plot bunny I chased around. Hope no one minds the absence of a line by line of their dialogue; I'm working from memory.
You know the drill. If you liked it, even if you didn't, please leave a review and let me know.