A/N: Hi, all! For those of you in America, hope you're enjoying the holiday :) I'm heading out to enjoy some sunshine and baseball. Have a wonderful rest of your weekend! And thanks, as always, for your support of my writing. You guys rock.

Even though it's only October, it feels cold enough to snow on the day Will leaves Chicago.

It's no coincidence that his world grew colder, too, when Alicia decided to leave for California.

Diane gives her friend a big hug. "Call me when you get there," she requests. "And send pictures from your phone. I want to make sure the offices are perfect."

Will smiles. "And bagels."

"Yes, please. Overnighted so they don't get stale."

He shakes his head and smiles at his partner. "I'll call when I get there," he repeats.

Not long after, he's dragging his suitcases through O'Hare, making his way to the ticket counter. He doesn't bother making small talk with the agent; he just wants to be rid of the luggage.

When he finally gets through security, he pauses at the terminal map to find coffee. The Starbucks is nowhere near his gate, but he sees it's just across from security, so he hoists his small bag onto his shoulder and heads to the counter to order.

Will sips the drink slowly, feeling the bitterness and the acidity of the black coffee linger in his throat. He's surrounded by people, but he's completely alone.

Airports offer interesting glimpses into the lives of others-simultaneously, people are saying goodbye and people are saying hello. Some are relieved to be leaving; others linger, wondering if they really have to go.

Some have friends, family, significant others who await their arrival; it's a beautiful scene, being reunited like that. Others are clinging to people in an effort to delay the goodbye they didn't want to come.

There had been no one here to see him off today, and there would be no one waiting for him to arrive in New York.

And that's when he allows Alicia to cross his mind.

He's tried to block out all thoughts of her for as long as possible. She just left for Los Angeles yesterday, but they hadn't spoken directly to each other in over a week. They'd spoken near each other in meetings and courtrooms, but never to each other, purposely never making eye contact.

God, she had seemed so hurt.

He couldn't believe it when she offered to open up the LA branch of the firm. It didn't make sense; why would she pick up her whole life and move across the country, only to return six months later?

And then he realizes: she didn't take her whole life with her. She didn't take anything with her.

She went alone.

Will knows he doesn't have the right to be upset by any of this; he'd brought it on himself, if anything. He'd been avoiding her for weeks.

He knows he should have been a better friend. He should have supported her, been there for her. He should have yelled at the associates talking about her behind her back and fired the assistants who encouraged it. He should have stood beside her and her decision to walk away from a painful, crumbling marriage to a man who had broken everything that mattered to her. And he did support that decision-he would have supported it long ago.

(He would have supported it if she'd never married Peter in the first place, but that's neither here nor there.)

But instead, Will avoided her. It was too hard to be near her without being with her. Their affair wasn't like this; it was indecorous, it was secret, it was something all their own. This was something entirely different: this was Chicago's sixteenth most-eligible bachelor standing next to the ex-First Lady of Illinois. This was the Will of twenty years ago standing next to the Alicia of twenty years ago: so scared to admit how much he loved her that he decided not to say anything at all.

Alicia had always carried within her an innate strength; it was in her blood. She'd been through enough hell in her life, starting at such an early age that she didn't have a choice in the matter. Her dad, her mom, Owen-before she even had the choice to be mature, she was forced into it by her family.

She was a good girl before she was a good wife.

Alicia's words ring audibly in Will's mind. "You treat me like I'm made of fucking glass."

He hadn't meant to; he really hadn't. It's just that Alicia had been through so much, he didn't want to add himself to the laundry list of things going on in her life. He would have much rather blended into the background, not bothering her, not disrupting the calm she was attempting to create in the chaos of her fall from grace.

Of course she took it the wrong way; it was the wrong decision. He should have taken his place by her side, as her friend. His own selfish desires aside, she needed that. She needed him. And he had always been her friend, throughout every good and bad thing that had happened to either of them over the past twenty years. This shouldn't have been any different.

Will sighs, louder than he meant to, garnering stares from nearby tables. He shakes his head and stands, the wood chair scraping against the tile floor.

As he throws his cup in the trash, a thought crosses his mind, one that scares him more than a little.

He realizes he wouldn't blame Alicia if she never wanted to talk to him again.

Will walks to the gate and checks the screen to make sure his flight is on time; it is. The 12:45 to JFK, and boarding is about to begin.

He hands his ticket to the gate agent, who scans it and wishes him a good trip. Her words make him want to laugh, want to say something about how he can't even have a good life without his best friend in it, but he knows he'd look like a total nutcase, so he thanks her and walks down the jetway in silence.

He's glad he booked a window seat; as they take off over Chicago, he watches the skyline disappear behind the wing. The only thing in his view are the chilly waters of Lake Michigan.

The last time he was on a plane to New York, Alicia was by his side.

She offered to sit in the middle seat; she was too nice. Always thinking about others. He insisted she take the window seat; she insisted she take the middle. She glared, playfully; he acquiesced, on the condition that she take the window seat on the way back.

They pulled out their laptops and talked case strategy for the first hour of the 2.5 hour flight. After, they'd ordered wine from the flight attendant and celebrated their recent successes at the firm.

Will watched her as she sipped the wine, her newly-cut bangs falling into her eyes. He reached over to push them back so he could see every last bit of Alicia's beautiful face. She smiled at the touch of his fingertips on her cheek, and he allowed his hand to linger longer than necessary.

New York was different; it was a place where they didn't have to hide anything. No one knew them here. He could hold her hand on the street and not think twice about it.

It was also the place where Alicia admitted, both to herself and to Will, that this was more than just some passion-fueled, sex-driven affair.

"This is the happiest I've ever been," she said, and he closed his eyes and smiled, wanting to savor that moment, wanting to burn it into his mind permanently.

He'd known it before now; he'd known it for more than fifteen years. But this was the place he allowed his heart to be open, vulnerable, as he admitted to himself just how much he loved her.

This was the happiest he'd ever been, too.

Will's thoughts are interrupted by the incessant prodding from the flight attendant. "Sir? Sir? Do you want something to drink?"

"Oh. Sorry," he says, not at all apologetic. "Uh...sure. Orange juice."

She shakes her head, in disbelief it took him that long just to tell her he wanted some freaking juice.

After she hands him the drink, Will sips the sweet liquid as he thinks about how right Alicia was when she had accused him of running away, too.

He'd wanted to get as far from her as possible; wanted to get away from Chicago, where he knew he'd be surrounded by her presence, even if she was thousands of miles away. He'd see her empty office, he'd hear about Peter on the news, he'd walk past hotels where they'd spent many lunch hours, he'd eat at that little diner where she liked to get pancakes, he'd go to her favorite Starbucks where she would buy coffee for them before work.

But then, an ironic truth hits him.

It doesn't matter where he goes or how far he runs.

Alicia will always be with him.