He watched her eyes glaze over ever so subtly as Peter spoke on. He hoped no one else noticed the change in her features – he was more aware of the nuances of Saint Alicia's facial expressions than your average reporter – but then again, he supposed, it didn't really matter now. He could easily explain away her looking distracted as her husband yet again apologised for messing up. Goddamn Peter. It had been fun, managing each crisis – that was his job – but my God; did Peter's always have to hurt his wife in particular?
He watched her look over his head, then to the side. What was she looking at? She dropped Peter's hand and exited stage right, and for just a moment, the heartbreak evident on Peter's face was enough to soothe all the residual anger he still held for being passed over for Ruth. For a moment.
The crowd dissipated, no longer really caring about the disgraced governor as he resigned from his position to be of little interest to anyone for a year of probation. After that, who knew – but nothing Eli would have to be a part of again.
He followed down the corridor he'd seen Alicia dip into. He rounded a corner just to see Diane strike Alicia, and he ducked back. He was good at pretending not to see things.
He heard the click of Alicia's heels begin to approach him, heard the renewed determination in her stride, could feel the anger and power resonate off her before he could see her.
"Alicia?"
She strode right past him, continuing for three more paces after he spoke before she stopped, her shoulders relaxing when she realised who spoke.
"Eli." She said, flat but not harsh.
"How are you?" He asked, scanning the redness of her cheek with a quick enough look that she, were she anyone else, wouldn't have noticed.
"Never better. Where's Peter?" She asked, looking around them at the empty room.
"I don't know." Eli said. He didn't know, nor did he really want to. It wasn't his job to know any more. This past year at the very least meant any chance of continuing a friendship with Peter outside of working together just didn't appeal.
"Good." Alicia said, a small smile on her face. It was a small smile, but a genuine one, and Eli responded in kind.
"Good?"
"Yes. Good." She said, ignoring his raised-eyebrows look of 'Elaborate, please'. Eli laughed.
"Jason's rubbing off on you; I didn't know monosyllabic grunts were contagious." Alicia blinked, sadness overwhelming her for nearly an entire second before sighing once, long and hard.
"Well, I guess I'd better start using full sentences again; looks like Jason has gone."
"Gone?" Eli asked, confused. He'd already adopted Jason into his 'Alicia for President' mindspace. He'd need to reshuffle.
"Now who's lost for words?"
"Sorry. I just thought… He was quite… 'Taken with you' isn't quite the phrase I'd use, but there are none better at the moment."
"We were in love, but that's not everything." She said, with the composed air of a much-rehearsed statement.
"People who say that are lying to themselves, Alicia. You know as well as I do that if you really want to, you can make it work. We just care too much about consequences. You're essentially a free woman now; there's no campaign to hurt. Follow him."
"It's weird hearing things like that come out your mouth Eli, but I don't think I really want to."
"That's bull, Alicia. Come on. It's time to be happy."
"You can talk, Eli. What are you going to do now? Are you going home to your significant other after this? No, because we're both alone, and sad, but that's us."
"I could have a significant other you didn't know about."
"You know everything about me, Eli. You think I wouldn't know everything about you in turn? Now, unless you've taken up with one of Marissa's friends recently –"
"That's disgusting." Eli said, pulling his head back, aghast, in a typical Eli Gold overdramatic reaction.
"Me keeping tabs on you, or you dating a girl young enough to be your daughter?"
"The second one. I continually underestimate you, Mrs Florrick, but you observing me omnisciently like that is almost flattering. I didn't know you cared." He teased.
"I think, after everything we've been through, you're probably the best friend I've got. Is that sad?"
"Well, you're definitely the best friend I've got, so at least we're sad together."
"That's true." She laughed. It resonated in the empty hall.
"Do you want to go get a drink? We've earned it."
"I'm quitting." He tried not to make his relief obvious as it washed over him, but the eyebrow she raised to him showed that his face gave him away.
"That's fair. How does coffee sound?"
"I'm not sure I've ever wanted anything more." She said, linking arms with him.
"Is that due to the promise of my company or the caffeine?"
"You'd better buy my answer to that one."