AN: GUYS! FF IS FINALLY BACK! This has been posting since October 31 I'm sorry ;-; new chap coming soon!

Happy Halloween! I realized earlier that this was my own version of Fictober and I'm so proud of myself for actually sticking this one out, lol. Thank you everyone for keeping me motivated! Not to worry, there's more to come.

Huge thank you to pphantast for the prompt! It'll be at the end of the chapter as usual! This is an alternate ending to 2x14 Net Worth, AKA how it should've ended.

Alicia kept thinking about what Owen had said. She wasn't "too good", was she?

"You are who you are. You can't cheat. It's not in your makeup."

She knew he meant that in a positive way as a compliment of sorts, but she couldn't help feeling offended. Sure, she didn't like being selfish in her decision making, and sure she has abandoned her happiness for the sake of others, but did that make her too good? If that were the case why did she constantly feel like a terrible person? She wasn't too good. She simply tries to protect her children who had been through enough already. Their father was a disappointment, they didn't need their mother to screw up as well.

But she couldn't help but think… what if she were to be selfish for once? What if she were to actually pursue what she wants? Pursue the person she wants?

The conversation she had with Owen at the motel kept replaying in her head. She wasn't in love, was she? She couldn't be.

"Happens to the best of us."

She hadn't even considered that possibility before Owen had called her out on it. She blamed all the yearning she had been repressing on a long-standing, fifteen-year long curiosity. But her brother's words made her realize, made her question her worst fear; what if she was in love? What if she'd been in love with Will since Criminal Law 101?

That thought terrified her. Were the past fifteen years of her life nothing? Was it all a mistake?

Those questions kept her up the whole night, she barely got any sleep. After hours of tossing and turning she came to the conclusion: she had to ask him about the voicemail. It was driving her crazy and she didn't think she'd know rest until she found out. She was doing fine not knowing before but Owen had to open Pandora's Box and trap her in this limbo.

In the morning, after barely getting a wink of sleep, she showered and got ready. Her anxiety was at an all-time high. She tossed clothes around her closet trying to find the perfect outfit. She first settled on a formal pantsuit. Prim, proper, dark. Appropriate. She rolled her eyes, she was exactly what her brother predicted.

She took the suit off and rummaged further. She finally settled on a formal black dress she'd worn once. It had a square neck and 3/4 sleeves and it reached her knees. She had to give it to herself, she looked hot. If she were to do this, she had to look and act confident and this was just the dress she needed. She applied her makeup and made sure her lipstick was perfect.

The drive to the firm wasn't easy. She kept trying to talk herself out of it. Played over every possible scenario in her head, weighing her options, comparing the pros and cons. This plan of hers was getting her nowhere.

She finally arrived to her office and took a deep, stabilizing breath. It was now or never. She took her coat off and went up to the 28th floor to look for Will. As she got to his assistants' desk, she saw him sitting with Diane in her office, watching TV. He got up when he saw her and walked towards her.

"Hey," he smiled as he grabbed papers from his assistant and ushered her into his office. "How was everywhere?" He grinned to himself.

"It was good. Good," she breathed out.

"Good job on the road. The studio apologized and we did pretty well." He placed the documents on his desk and skimmed through a few. She remained glued to her spot in the middle of the room. She could feel the anxiety seeping from her pores. She didn't know what to with her hands.

"Will, I need a moment of your time," she practiced that line in the mirror the night before.

"Okay," he grinned up at her, seeming surprised. She approached his desk and laid her hand against a chair. She felt like she could drop at any minute. She could hear her heartbeats.

"I never got the second message to my cellphone," she said in one breath. She tried to appear relaxed, chill, professional. Like this wasn't at all eating at her. He looked at her confused. "I don't know why."

"A second message? No, you got everything." His eyebrows were furrowed. She was silently begging for him to understand. Please don't make me spell it out.

"When you phoned Peter's press conference you left two messages, but I didn't get the second I only got the first." She paused to breathe. She felt so achingly vulnerable, she hated it. She knew how she looked. Like she was begging him to say what she was hoping he'd say. Alicia Florrick never wore her heart on her sleeve and she was about to start crying.

"I hate missed connections and that stuff, so can I ask; what did you say?" She tried to smile but she knew it looked odd and forced. Her whole body was stiff she could barely move. He walked to his door and her heart hammered with his every step.

"In my second message?"

Fuck.

What was he supposed to do? What was he supposed to say? He never expected to be in that position. When she didn't end up calling him back he assumed she wasn't interested, but this? This changed everything. For the past months he was under the impression she knew about his feelings for him, but no. This awkwardness was apparently one-sided.

He shut the door and paused to gain some time.

"Yes."

He turned around and looked at her. Really looked at her. She looked gorgeous that morning. The dress she wore was tailor-made for her, and her hair looked so soft his hand ached to stroke it, run his fingers through it, brush it behind her ears. She was still glued to her spot.

"You don't have to say." She was giving him an out. She always did that. She always initiated potentially dangerous and difficult conversations and left it to him to determine their fate. Infuriating, but smart.

A million thoughts ran through his head. Does he tell the truth? Does he lie? He suddenly remembered Tammy, his non-girlfriend girlfriend. This would hardly count as cheating, she barely even liked him.

Ever since Alicia "ignored" his voicemail, he had tried so hard to get over her. He felt humiliated, he almost resented her. He slept around and eventually reconnected with Tammy to try and fill the empty Alicia void. Had he been successful? Not really. But was he ready to expose himself to her, face to face, with no prior warning or preparation?

This was more unnerving than the hardest of trials in court.

She looked at him with her big hazel eyes and her pouty lipstick covered lips and he just… he had to. It was now or never. Might as well get it over with.

"No I will," he breathed, "I said…" His heart was about to beat out of his chest. How was he supposed to say this? Her eyes were begging him to put her out of her misery.

"You told me that night that you needed a plan and hung up. I was so frustrated and I felt so defeated, so I left you that first voicemail. But the more I thought about it the worse I felt. No, you didn't make the right choice. I had to convince you to pick me, choose me. Not Peter. Not his stupid campaign. Me. And that plan you asked about? My plan is that I love you." He stopped and let the words hang in the air. He was terrified. He'd never made confessions of love before and he hated it. How do people allow themselves to be so vulnerable?

He looked at Alicia and she looked about the way he expected her to look: absolutely internally freaking out. A blush had settled on her face and her eyes averted towards the ground. Oh, boy.

"And I said that I could meet you anywhere…and that we could make a plan." He continued. Maybe this wasn't the best idea.

He looked down at her and her hands were shaking. Concern grew in him. "Leesh, are you okay? Come, sit," he gently grabbed her arm and sat her on the chair in front of his desk.

"I'm fine. This is just…a lot."

"You must have suspected it. You came here with a purpose, I can tell." It wasn't accusatory, he was just curious.

FUCK.

What now?

She hadn't planned this far. She didn't know if she should feel ecstatic or terrified. Maybe both? She felt both. She was excited and anxious and hopeful and utterly scared shitless.

She had to say something. He was looking at her with those puppy dog eyes and she could just melt. Maybe Owen was right, maybe he did have sultry eyes. Just, sadder.

"Will,"

"Look, I'm sorry. This is probably not what you wanted to hear. You asked I answered. I tried to keep this locked away, but I'm not going to lie to you. I care about you too much, but I don't want to lose you." He sat on the chair opposite her and clasped his hands.

"You won't lose me," she said quietly, barely above a whisper. He looked at her, eyes filled with hope. She swallowed. "I've spent so much of my life living for other people. Doing things against my wishes. Sacrificing. And where has that gotten me? I'm 43 and barely two years into a law career with a husband who cheated on me with hookers and went to prison for eight months. And I'm tired, Will. I want to do things for me. I want…I want you." She finally looked up and they locked eyes.

His eyes were almost comically wide open. He froze as if he wasn't sure if he had heard her right.

Alicia sighed, her anxiety high was depleting, and she felt exhausted from the lack of sleep. All their cards were on the table, now it was time to play.

"I…I don't know what to say." He grinned. The sight made her smile. He was adorable. "Me neither, I feel like I'm in high school."

Will looked around them and sighed. "Damn these walls." She chuckled. "I'll say."

He gently took her hand in his and stroked his thumb over her knuckles. "Alicia, I'm ready. All the complications, all your drama, the press, your kids, Peter, work. I'm willing if you are." He smiled at her and she almost swooned. She squeezed his hand.

"I am."

He grinned. "Then let's make a plan." She could practically see the love pouring out of his glazed over eyes and she blushed. This will take some getting used to.

The prompt: Will & Alicia have an honest conversation about The Voicemail. On TGW, Will lied to Alicia about the second voicemail he left her at the end of season 1. I've always wondered what would have happened if he had been truthful when she finally asked him what he said. Would he and Alicia have met somewhere to make a plan together? And what would that plan have looked like?

AN 2: Let me know if any of you are interested in a part 2!