It was an unusually quiet afternoon. Or at least, it would have been under different circumstances. Sitting in her office, a folder open but uncared-for on her desk, Alicia kept replaying in her mind the alarming conversation she had that morning with Peter, her gaze lost somewhere outside the still featureless, alien view of her window.

Legal problems at Lockhart & Gardner.

She couldn't get rid of that eerie thought.

"It's unofficial. Very unofficial, actually. But I thought that… you know… maybe you wanted to know it."

Her heart had stopped and her blood had frozen at the news. She suspected that Peter knew more than just this, but probably wasn't allowed to share it. And now she understood why he preferred not to disclose it the night before. The last thing she needed was a new source of anxiety and a restless night before an important trial.

And she had a very bad feeling about who the person in trouble might be.

Now, with her phone in her hand, her thumb was lingering with indecision on the green button. Should she call Will? The most impulsive and less rational side of her pressed her that yes, she should call and check how he was doing. But her good sense retorted that no, it wasn't the right time. And it probably wouldn't be appropriate. As her impulse was about to win and her finger was about to start the call, a pang of lucidity made her rethink it for the umpteenth time.

A confidential bit of information and, first of all, very unofficial, in Peter's own words. What could she tell him anyway? Maybe he wasn't even the one in trouble. Or even worse, maybe he was but still didn't know it. But then again, why would Peter feel the need to share it if it wasn't him? Damn. No, calling him now would be the most stupid idea ever.

She put the phone back down on her desk, as Will's name was still beckoning her from the lit display, in a tempting way.

A light knock on the doorjamb put a definite end to her indecisiveness. She looked up at the man standing in front of her and gave him a questioning look.

"Mrs. Florrick?" He asked, with a hint of hesitancy.

"Yes," she confirmed, a bit taken aback by the unexpected intrusion. "May I help you, Mr…?" She asked quizzically, as with a light gesture she invited him to introduce himself.

"I'm Mr. Anderson," he said.

Who?

"We spoke yesterday by phone," he went further and explained, probably catching her blank reaction.

Oh, yes. That lawyer. Damn. What did he want from her now? She thought she'd been pretty clear the day before, when she told him, twice – very politely, because one can never know - that they didn't need his services. They still planned to hire four associates, yes, but they were already somewhat preempted due to financial constraints, so far. She and Cary couldn't risk hiring sight unseen. And she knew nothing of this man. She considered calling Cary for support, since her kind refusal clearly didn't hit the mark. Maybe two noes were more effective than one. But eventually, she chose to handle the situation by herself.

"Oh, Mr. Anderson, yes," she nodded with a set smile. "What can I do for you again?"

"I won't steal too much of your time, I promise," he said, as he walked in with hurried steps and a wide smile, and took a seat across from Alicia. In his hands, a black hat and a brown envelope.

If there was something Alicia knew, it was that when people said they weren't stealing too much time, they were indeed. And even if on one hand she was annoyed by this man's presence, at least it kept her mind busy, preventing her from musing, imagining, racking her brains about what was possibly going on at Lockhart & Gardner and in Will's life. Because the more time she spent thinking about it, the worse the scenario would grow in her mind.

"Is it about the conversation we had yesterday, Mr. Anderson?" She asked, just to get an idea of what she was headed for.

"Uhm, let's say, yes," he said, with a brooding look.

Alicia sighed inwardly, and sat back, leaning against the back of her chair in a sort of resignation. "Okay," she said, giving in to the idea that she wasn't going to get rid of him quite easily. "So, why should I hire you? Aside from the fact that you clearly are a dogged and strong-willed person."

The man stared at her for a moment, reflectively, probably searching for an answer. "What do you think are the qualities of a good lawyer?"

Alicia sighed, annoyed. If there was something she couldn't stand, it was being answered with a question. And she had no idea what kind of game he was playing. He called her twice, showed up at her office without an appointment, and now was playing cat and mouse? She breathed deeply, trying to keep her cool. "Are you trying to trick me into giving you the solution to my answer?"

Mr. Anderson laughed and shook his head. "Nothing like that, Mrs. Florrick. You don't need me, and you've been pretty clear about it. I'm just curious to know what qualifies a good lawyer has in your opinion."

Okay. Give him an answer and send him the hell out of here.

She started to think. What distinguished a good lawyer? Her mind reviewed her four years at Lockhart & Gardner, with all its good and bad. "Righteousness, ethics, absolute respect for the client who should always come first, the shrewdness of knowing how to use every little, tiny cavil of the law without breaking it, there are many things, Mr. Anderson. Do you think you have at least those I listed?" She asked, with a bit of challenge, but she really didn't like the man. There was a slight meanness and arrogance in him, that she couldn't stand.

The man hesitated, gave her a light smirk. "Maybe not. Do you?"

She paused and pondered his question. "Yes," she said, showing off all her confidence and holding back with all her might a bit of hesitation.

"Good," Mr. Anderson said with a nod. "So I guess you have nothing to fear."

Fear?

Her face clouded in incomprehension.

"You've been served, Mrs. Florrick," Mr. Anderson said very quietly, as he let the envelope fall on her desk, then stood up and left.

She didn't even have the time to understand what he had just said, that he was already gone.

You've been served.

Oh my God.

She inhaled deeply, trying to contain the growing panic. Regaining some control, she did what seemed the most logical thing to do in that moment. She opened the envelope to check its content.

Rebecca Thompson.

Rebecca Thompson?

She tried to connect the name to a face, but as much as she tried, that name was completely unfamiliar.

Then a flash crossed her mind as she remembered what had been her thought for the whole day.

Will.

With no hesitation this time, she grabbed the phone and quick-dialed his number. As she heard the connection on the other end, she didn't even give him the time to answer. "Who is Rebecca Thompson?"

She waited for an answer, impatiently, and possibly one she would like, or at least find acceptable. Instead, she heard him sigh, deeply. And it didn't sound good at all.

"We need to talk," Will said.