The Other Side

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I will be bringing in dialogue and cases from the show, and guess what? I don't own those either! Title and lyrics are from 'The Other Side' by Jason Derulo.

Author's Note: I'm so glad you're enjoying the story, thank you so much for all your reviews and comments! The kids don't actually feature in this chapter I'm afraid – it's mainly a little bit of development in Alicia and Will's relationship. I'm sure you'll recognise dialogue/settings from the show, so please forgive me for taking them from the show to use in my own context! As always, it really means a lot to hear what you think, and fear not the children will be back in chapter four!

Chapter Three

Tonight we'll just get drunk, disturb the peace…

"Peter."

"Mom," Peter greets, rising from his chair in the visitors room to embrace his mother. "It's so good to see you." As they sit together, Peter updates her on the trivialities of prison life. He listens to her stories of the children and lets her reassure him that even though Alicia has, still angry, categorically refused to consider letting them release him on electronic monitoring to her new apartment, he has a place to stay with her. Only then, once all that is done, does he venture to ask her about Alicia.

"She's working too much, but that's about it," Jackie offers dismissively.

"Yeah, I warned her about Diane Lockhart," Peter murmurs, a smile gracing his face.

"No, it's the other one. Will Gardner," Jackie corrects him, watching her suspicions play true all over his face. Calculated, she continues. "I'm glad they're friends and all, but he needs to give her a break. Day and night, she never stops. It's not good for the kids."

"Alicia's first priority will always be the kids, mom," Peter defends automatically, even as suspicion sparks in his eyes.

"You know he's met the kids, right? He's been over at the apartment for dinner at least twice that I know of. Grace chats to him like he's her new best friend. Your daughter, who won't say two words to you over the phone when you call, chats to Will Gardner, your wife's boss, like he's the best thing since sliced bread. You tell me what's wrong with that picture."

"Where are the mini-Florrick's tonight?"

"My brother's watching them," Alicia tells Kalinda, pausing for a second to down the shot of vodka the investigator slides in front of her. "No doubt corrupting them and wreaking havoc in my lovely apartment. So what Stern Lockhart tradition is this?"

"Guilty verdict," Kalinda sighs, tapping her own shot on the bar before tipping it back. "And this one's more of a Gardner tradition."

"Gardner tradition, huh," Alicia comments, unable to hold back the laugh that just wants out despite the trauma of their day in court.

"Sounds like a story," Kalinda muses casually, spinning her stool so she's facing Alicia.

"Everything's a story to you," Alicia counters with a smirk, shaking her head slightly. "Just thinking that Will's never been able to hold his vodka."

"Mm, I think that's why it's a guilty verdict drink," Kalinda agrees, shaking her head slightly. "So, Georgetown huh?" she continues smoothly, raising an eyebrow slowly.

"Georgetown," Alicia agrees guardedly, running a hand through her hair.

"Georgetown what?" comes a familiar voice from over her shoulder, and she turns her head sharply as Will drops onto the empty stool next to her and downs the shot Kalinda pushes in front of him.

"Kalinda was fishing," she tells him, smiling a little when he barks out a laugh. "I was remembering how you could never hold your vodka."

"Kalinda's always fishing," he counters, tugging his tie loose with one finger. "And please, don't give her ammunition."

"I've got plenty of ammunition," Kalinda counters, holding two fingers up to the barman, gesturing to Alicia and Will as she stands, tapping her phone once on the counter. "And I already knew you couldn't hold your vodka, Gardner. I've got…plans," she announces vaguely, watching the barman slide two more shots of vodka in front of the lawyers before taking her leave.

"Crappy day." Alicia's staring at Kalinda's retreating back in something like shock when Will speaks, and it takes her a moment to turn her attention back to him.

"Crappy day," she sighs, tapping her glass against his and downing it smoothly. "She's… something," she murmurs, choking a little as the vodka burns.

"Kalinda?" he asks on a chuckle, one eyebrow raised as he tips his own shot back. "She's that alright."

"I like her," Alicia murmurs, shrugging a shoulder slightly when he grins at her.

"Me too," he murmurs, resting his head in his hand as he studies her. "So this is Alicia on a night off, hmm?" he murmurs, and if she didn't know better she'd almost think he was flirting with her. "Kind of like Georgetown all over again."

"Except we're better dressed and the vodka doesn't taste like paint stripper," she laughs, running a hand through her hair.

"You have a good laugh," he murmurs, and she drops her eyes for a moment, feeling a blush spread across her cheeks. "Just as easy to embarrass as you were in Georgetown, too," he teases, a crooked grin crossing his lips as she glares at him.

Yep. Definitely flirting.

"And you're just as annoying," she murmurs back, and it's entirely possible that she might be flirting a little, too. Holding up two fingers, she gives the barman a smile as he places another two shots in front of them.

"It's always the good girls," he muses, grinning at her. She can't help laughing, pushing one of the shots in front of her.

"It's because we're catching up," she counters, picking up her own shot with a grin. Watching as he tips his back, she takes a sip of hers, closing her eyes for a second because she can't remember the last time she sat in a bar and felt like she had no responsibilities.

And there they are.

He laughs a second before she drops her forehead onto the bar.

"Miss them, don't you?" he murmurs, like he's inside her head.

"Like you wouldn't believe," she agrees, groaning as she lifts her head up to see him grinning. "Pathetic, isn't it?" she asks, sipping her vodka slowly.

"Actually, I think it's kind of endearing," he murmurs, his eyes darting nervously around the room when he realises what he's said as her heart thumps against her chest. Because there was no mistaking the sincerity in his eyes. "There's no way to make that sound any better than it did, is there?" he asks wryly, rubbing a hand across his eyes.

"You can blame the vodka, if you want," she points out with a soft smile, resting her fingers on his arm. "I won't tell."

Even as they laugh, the mood seems to shift between them. Afterwards, she wouldn't be able to tell you who moved first, but his kiss was gentle and his lips were warm and soft against hers, and suddenly her fingers were curling at the back of his neck as they traded soft, chaste kisses, noses bumping.

She can only remember being kissed like that once before in her life.

He was the one doing the kissing then, too.

He rests his forehead against hers when they break the kiss, and she lifts her fingers to his lips before she can stop herself. She's not ready. She's nowhere near ready for feelings she can't even acknowledge, and she's still married.

Her husband is in prison and he's broken her heart, but she's still married. On paper only, or so it feels, but she's still married.

And she's not ready for this.

Her phone lights up on the counter between them, and they both silently read the text from Owen about Grace's nightmare. She knows she has to go, knows her daughter won't settle until she's the one tucking her back into bed, but her fingers stay curled at his cheek for just a moment longer.

He speaks first.

"We always have bad timing, don't we?"

"Did you even get any sleep last night? You look exhausted."

Alicia lifts her weary head from the mountain of paperwork that used to resemble her desk, giving Will a hesitant smile as he nudges her door shut, sinking onto her couch and stretching his long legs out in front of him.

"I was up with Grace until 4am," she explains, smiling tiredly as he winces sympathetically. "Almost wasn't worth getting any sleep after that. Worse than any hangover you ever had at Georgetown, I can promise you that."

"Are her nightmares getting any better?" he asks softly, and she knows he's recalling a conversation they had a few weeks ago when she thinks she had looked almost this tired. He had googled it afterwards, and emailed her the most pertinent of a whole host of articles explaining how traumatic events of any type at that age could lead to entirely unrelated nightmares.

She'd already read them herself a million times over, but the simple email that accompanied them had made her heart beat a little faster.

"Floods of tears every time," she murmurs sadly. "Won't go to sleep after one without me, but she still won't talk to me about them." Running a hand through her hair, she shrugs a shoulder slightly. "I'm not sure she knows how. I'm thinking about taking her to see someone about them, if they continue much longer."

"Can't hurt?" he murmurs questioningly, and even though she can see his complete lack of experience written all over his face, he's trying in a way that no one else does, and she can't help herself from smiling at him.

The silence that descends as they watch one another should feel awkward, but it doesn't. Somehow, it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

"Hi," she murmurs softly, when it feels like the silence has stretched on one beat too long. He grins hesitantly at her then, running a hand through his hair.

"Hey," he answers, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees as he studies her. "Do we need to talk about last night?" His voice is soft with the question, and she lets a breath out at the lack of expectation in his eyes, because the amount that she feels for him, even after all this time, makes her want to run for the hills.

Especially when she's struggling to think of anything but the way he kissed her last night.

"I don't…" she sighs, shaking her head in frustration. Because it might be all she can think about, but that doesn't mean that she knows how she feels. She doesn't know how she feels about anything these days, unless it involves her kids. "This isn't… I can't," she breathes out, tipping her head back.

"Bad timing, right?" he murmurs softly, reaching out to touch her knee, just for a second. The warmth of his fingers on her skin sends a shiver running through her, but he's leaning back against the couch before she can react. "I was thinking that maybe we could leave it as a kiss between two friends who've grown pretty close, again," he murmurs softly. "Two friends who feel… something, for one another, but have bad timing right now."

Her heart thumps against her ribcage, and she lets a heavy breath out as the pressure lifts, just a little.

"Alicia, you're still married," he adds softly. "You've been to hell and back in the last nine months, and you've got your children to think about. I'm not about to put any more pressure on you, and you don't have to say anything. Just… remember that having you back in my life is wonderful, and we'll leave the kiss as just a kiss." He hesitates for a second, just enough for her to notice, before he continues. "For now."

And as she watches him stand from her couch, all she can think is that she might still be married to Peter in technicality, but she doesn't think he'll ever make her heart race again in the same way that Will does with nothing more than a few sincere words.

"Will?" she manages, as he's reaching for the door handle. He stops, and she takes a risk. "Do you think that we'll always have bad timing?"

"I hope not," he murmurs honestly, holding her eyes for a long moment before

"Me too," she whispers, not quite able to contain her smile as she watches him walk back upstairs.

tbc.