A/N: This is set in a universe where a few things are important. 1) Will is alive, and he and Alicia are together, because that's just how it should be. 2) Therefore, Alicia and Peter are not married, but I didn't clearly define how long they've been apart, or honestly, if they were ever together to begin with. There's a bit with Zach and Grace I wanted to include, which makes me think that Peter has to exist in this universe, but he doesn't have to exist in the text of the story. 3) This is an extended version of my most recent drabble, so you'll see a familiar bit partway through the story if you are a fan of those.
Additionally, there's a tag to The West Wing 4.6, "Election Night." If you're a TWW fan, you'll recognize it. If not—let's just say it has to do with the "wrath of whatever from high atop the thing," and you can find the clip on YouTube. :) I like the idea of TGW and TWW existing in the same universe, but since that's rather complicated, let's just say Alicia and Will are fans of the show.
Finally, this story is dedicated to Chrissie, Sab, and Mary. You ladies are just the absolute best, and I am so glad to be surrounded by such talented and supportive friends. :)
Will wakes early that Tuesday morning, long before the sun has even thought about rising. He stretches, his arms hugging the pillow resting beneath his head, and mentally appreciates how soft the sheets are beneath his bare arms and face.
If asked, Will Gardner could (and would) rattle off an impossibly long list of reasons why he loves being married to Alicia—but among those reasons would definitely be the fact that she has impeccable taste in bedsheets.
He reaches for his phone on the nightstand, simultaneously unplugging it from the charger. The glow of the screen is a slight shock to his eyes before the auto-brightness kicks into gear. 4:23am, it reads. 46˚.
As he closes his eyes again, thinking about drifting back to sleep, he recognizes the smell of coffee wafting lazily into the bedroom, which can only mean one thing.
Alicia's awake. And she's been awake for a little while.
"Dammit," he mumbles as he throws the covers off, his feet kicking around on the floor, searching for the slippers that should be nearby. Once his feet are safely inside the slippers, he opens the bedroom door and pads out to the kitchen, where his wife sits, scrolling through something on her laptop, her left hand securely fastened around her coffee mug.
"Hey there," Will says, smiling sleepily at his wife. "You are up…early."
"Looking over my speeches for tonight," she explains, turning her laptop so he can see the screen.
"Speeches?" he asks.
"Yes. One if I win, one if I, well, don't."
"You don't need two speeches, Leesh. You're going to win."
"Don't say that!" Alicia says, ready to clasp her hand over his mouth if he dares to say another such thing. "I haven't won yet, Will!"
He chuckles as he walks toward the coffee maker and removes a mug from the dishwasher. "Oh. Right. You don't want to tempt the wrath of whatever from high atop the thing."
"I ought to make you go outside, turn around three times, spit, and curse."
"Please don't," Will says, leaning back against the counter. "I'm not wearing a shirt, and it would be awfully cold."
Alicia surveys him up and down, a smirk curling up one corner of her lips. "Yeah. I noticed that."
Will wraps his fingers around the warm ceramic mug and smiles. "By the way, I was supposed to get up before you. Why didn't you wake me?"
"Because I woke up at an ungodly hour, and there was no need."
"But I was supposed to make you surprise Election Day pancakes!" Will protests. "And bacon!"
Alicia chuckles. "You can still do that. It's not even 5am. There's plenty of time for breakfast."
"Yeah, but now they aren't surprise pancakes, they're just pancakes."
"It's okay," she assures him, stretching out her arm so he can take her mug and refill it. "We have the rest of our lives for surprise pancakes."
Will returns the mug filled with coffee. "Okay. Non-surprise pancakes, coming up."
An hour and a half later, the polls are officially open in Illinois.
Alicia is dressed, wearing crisp black trousers, shiny stilettos, and a high-collar red pea coat. Will exits the bedroom wearing a charcoal gray suit and a subtly striped blue tie.
"You look presidential," he tells her, grinning. "I'm glad you chose the red."
"Oh, please," she says, waving him off. "I don't look presidential."
"Well, if you don't look presidential, at the very least, you look beautiful. You ready?" he asks, grabbing his keys from the bowl.
She inhales deeply and closes her eyes for a moment before nodding. "Yes. Let's do this."
The drive to their polling place is relatively silent. Alicia flips the radio on for a few minutes, stopping on NPR, but eventually decides against listening to anything. At the second stoplight, Will looks over and reaches for her hand.
"Hey," he says, sensing her nervousness. "No freaking out. At least not yet. There's nothing to freak out about."
"What if I lose?" she asks, the words coming from her lips sounding as if it's the first time she's really considered it as a possibility. "What if they reelect Castro? Or decide Prady is better than me? What if—"
"Leesh," Will says gently as the light turns green. "It's out of your hands. You've done everything you possibly could have. You, and Jonathan, and Eli—they helped you run an amazing campaign. But that part is over now. You just have to let people vote." He smiles as she squeezes his hand. "And, if they're the smart people I think they are, they'll elect you as the next Cook County State's Attorney. Okay?"
"Okay," she affirms.
Her phone buzzes in the pocket of her coat, and she fishes it out to find a text from Eli—a ridiculous selfie. He's grinning, holding up an "I voted" sticker on the tip of his index finger. "Let's kick ass today," it reads. Alicia smiles at the photo, grateful to have Eli's support.
The cold November air greets the couple as they walk hand-in-hand into their polling place. Will squeezes her hand as they're shown to the voting booths.
"Who do you think I should vote for in the State's Attorney race?" Alicia whispers, and Will smiles.
"The prettiest one," he answers, and squeezes her hand once more before they separate.
When Alicia steps into the booth, she quickly taps through the propositions, the state government positions, the Congressmen, the judges up for confirmation, and then, toward the end of the ballot, she sees it. This version of her name in lights. "STATE'S ATTORNEY," it reads. "VOTE FOR ONE."
She stares at the screen, then smiles to herself. Perhaps it's not the culmination of a lifelong dream of running for public office. Perhaps it's not something she was born to do, or something she thought she'd do ten—or even five—years ago. But it's something she's proud of as she reflects on all she's been through to get here.
When she's finished, she and Will emerge from their adjacent voting booths, practically grinning from ear to ear. They return their voter cards to the election judge and receive their "I voted" stickers, which they proudly display on their jackets.
The press is ready and waiting just outside the doors; the photographs they capture will illustrate a strong power couple, the kind of people who look ready and able to change the world.
Will places a soft kiss on her cheek as they wave to the crowd around them. "My wife is going to be the most kickass State's Attorney," he whispers in her ear. "I'm so proud of you."
When the polls close at 7pm, Alicia's in the hotel suite, a cup of red wine firmly in her grip. Johnny and Eli are off in a corner, talking about exit polls, while Will sits next to her on the couch, incessantly tapping the refresh button on his browser.
"They're not going to post anything five seconds after the poll close," she says, nudging him.
"They might," he counters, but he knows she's right, so he closes the laptop and puts it down on the coffee table.
As Eli rushes past to turn on the television, Diane and Cary enter, handing their jackets to an eager campaign staffer.
"Oh, I'm so glad you're here," Alicia says, standing to hug her friends.
"We wouldn't miss it," Cary assures her.
Diane smiles, looking like a proud mother. "Any news yet?"
Will shakes his head. "Too early. And if Eli knows anything, he's not telling," he jokes.
"What? I don't know anything," Eli says, walking up to the group.
"Eli? You seem a little tense," Alicia says, passing over a plastic cup and the bottle. "Here. Have some wine."
"Is there no scotch in this room?" he asks with suspicious eyes.
"Maybe save the hard stuff for later," Alicia advises with a smile.
"You're right," he says, turning to survey the room as he accepts the bottle from her hand. "Lots of people here. Good. Your speeches? Are they ready?"
"We've gone over this, Eli," she replies. "Everything is ready. Everything is good."
"Mmhmm," Eli says distractedly as he takes a sip of wine. "If you say so."
"She's ready," Will confirms, clasping his hand on Eli's shoulder. "I promise."
"Okay," Eli says, nodding in acceptance. "Let's see what happens."
For the next two and a half hours, they all stare at the television screen, biting nails and sipping on wine. Alicia switched to water (and Will, too, in solidarity) about an hour ago, so she's sober as can be, feeling—and looking—absolutely terrified.
As the smaller precincts began to report, a theme emerged: voters were not interested in reelecting Castro. But they seemed to be a little divided between Alicia and Prady.
That is, until some of the larger precincts start reporting, and a different theme emerges.
And that theme is Alicia.
They want Alicia.
At 9:46pm, the candidates' photos flash on the screen. "Okay. With 95% of precincts reporting, we're ready to call the race for State's Attorney. With 52% of the vote, the next State's Attorney of Cook County…Alicia Gardner!"
Will pulls his wife into a hug as everyone around them erupts into cheers. "A-li-cia!" they chant, waving her campaign posters in the air.
"You did it," he practically yells as he picks her up and twirls her around. "You did it!"
As he sets Alicia back on solid ground, she stares at the television screen, unable to believe it. But her photo is still there, and the words "projected winner" and "52%" are still there, too.
"I did it," she whispers, and Will takes her face in his hands, planting a sweet but firm kiss on her lips.
Diane makes her way through the crowd, with Cary not far behind. "Congratulations," she says as soon as she reaches Alicia.
"Diane, I couldn't have done this without you," Alicia says, attempting to hold back the tears. "I remember what you told me on my first day. Women helping women."
"I am so proud to have been your mentor, and even more proud to be your friend," Diane adds, hugging her tightly.
"Congratulations, partner," Cary says, offering her a hug. "Does this mean I can have your office now?"
"Not a chance in hell," Alicia replies, smiling. "I'm coming back for it."
"Alicia!"
She turns around to see Owen and her mother making their way through the sea of people.
"You made it!" she exclaims as Owen nearly tackles her in a hug.
"Congratulations, sis. Or do I have to call you something fancy now that you're State's Attorney?"
"Sis is fine," she says, laughing.
"Move," Veronica says, elbowing Owen. "I'd like to hug my daughter." As Veronica pulls back from the hug, she looks Alicia up and down and shakes her head. "I am so proud of you, honey."
"Thanks, mom," Alicia says before turning to Eli. "Is it time?"
He nods. "Your speech starts in 5 minutes. We should get downstairs."
As they make their way to the elevators, Eli stops. "You two go ahead. We'll meet you in that back hallway outside the ballroom. You remember how to get there?"
They both nod. "Thanks," Alicia says as she hugs him.
Eli is a little taken aback at this display of affection, but he relaxes, hugging her back. "You kicked ass," he reminds her.
When the elevator doors close behind them, Will hits the button for the ground floor. He turns to his wife, who is leaning against the back wall of the elevator, and smiles.
"We have twenty-something floors to go. What would you say to making out with the husband of the next State's Attorney?"
"I'd say that sounds like a great pl—" Alicia starts to say before her words are cut off by his lips on hers.
When they reach the third floor, he steps back. "Might want to reapply your lipstick," he mentions, and he produces it from the pocket of his suit jacket.
"You think of everything," Alicia says, smoothing out her dress as she rubs her lips together. "Thank you."
"I love you," Will replies, taking her hand in his as they exit the elevator and make their way to the back hallway.
"I love you too," she says softly, smiling at her husband. Moments later, Eli is there, ushering them into the ballroom.
They stand at the side of the stage, looking straight ahead, and Alicia can't believe what she sees.
Zach and Grace, home on a surprise visit from Georgetown, looking older and more mature than ever, are standing at the podium, poised to introduce her.
"We are so happy to be here tonight," Grace says, smiling at the crowd. "And we're even happier to introduce our mom—"
"Your next State's Attorney for Cook County, Alicia Gardner!" Zach chimes in, and they turn to the side, grinning at Alicia and Will.
Will takes her hand as they walk up the stairs to the stage, never leaving her side. Will hugs Grace while Alicia hugs Zach, and as Alicia moves to hug Grace, she whispers to Will. "Did you plan this?"
He nods as he smiles over Zach's shoulder at her. "Congratulations, Mrs. State's Attorney."