A/N: There was a time when we all cried out "No way Will is ever going to move to NYC! Just no!" I'm sure that more or less all of us changed our mind in the meantime. This was supposed to be a oneshot, but in light of what happened on the show, I made it my own fix-it story. I don't plan anything long, probably 4/5 chapters. As I said, it's just a fix-it.
This chapter is Diane/Will (so you don't ask where is Alicia by the end of the chapter lol) Enjoy 3
It's only when he lands at the O'Hare airport and walks into the terminal 3 with his carry-on baggage that Will realizes how much he misses Chicago. There is this moment of adaptation, of settling back - for a day or two - into a place where he spent more years of his life than he can remember. A city that belongs to his past, yet it will always feel like home, it will always own a significant piece of his heart.
He spent a whole year in New York City but he sometimes still feels like a stranger there and he knows it's not the place, but the people around him. It's not the same when you are welcomed in the morning by a smiling Cheryl and a Starbucks coffee instead of by a Kalinda marching in with her pocket agenda and the determination of her stiletto heels.
It's early morning and the sun is still halting, hiding behind thick cotton clouds that threaten snow anytime soon. He wraps himself up tightly in his coat, smiles as he hails a taxi and recites the still familiar address.
Chicago.
The sky that's never crystalline; the cool wind that makes the weather so unpredictable, though most of the times enjoyable and breezy, even when in New York City you're already stifled by the sultriness; the cold, metallic background of the EL and its trains running over your head. And the unmistakable smell of spicy chicken wings coming from the diner across the street of the LG's building, reminding him that in a few hours he's going to meet Alicia for lunch.
The anticipation shakes him a tad. He has no idea what to expect, where they stand, what their encounter in New York City meant in the first place. His rational inner self tagged it as one night stand. It's much easier to handle it this way. No involvements, no expectations, just a credit to what they once had, which is something he can't really define either.
He closes his eyes and breathes in, then rests a hand on the glass front door of his former home for a second before finally deciding to get inside.
A 29 floors ride up on an elevator that still holds too many memories. 29 floors that used to run too fast or too slow depending on the company, and the speed has inevitably always been in inverse proportion to the pleasantness of his riding companion. A ding that makes him look up, still today, to check if the ride is over, and most of the times it's not. And when the right number lights up, he composes himself, adjusts the tie and steps out. It's relatively early, twenty minutes to the LG board meeting. This grants him enough time to look around with no hurry and join Diane for some required gossip.
He takes in with gratified pleasure that she didn't change anything, excepting a couple of paintings she never liked and that are gone, replaced by portraits of God knows who those people have been in some past century.
He waves discretely at his old secretary, who welcomes him with a beaming smile and points at Diane's office to let him know that she's there.
He doesn't walk in straightway. Instead, he stops in front of her office and observes with a content smile his old name partner. The picture is familiar still today. Her glasses on, she's typing lazily on the laptop. If he still knows her like he used to, - and he surely does – he can safely guess she's not getting any real work done but only trying to kill time until his arrival.
With a soft knock on her door, he lets her know that she can just stop pretending. He doesn't move as she looks up, her lips already imperceptibly curled up as she takes off her glasses; then she offers him one of her heartwarming smiles.
Only when she stands up he finally opens the door of her office to greet her halfway.
"Will…" His murmured name is the only thing that leaves Diane's mouth before she rushes to hug him.
"I've been away for only one year and you've already replaced my paintings?" he jokes. And her hearty laughter is so contagious that he can't help laughing himself.
"So, what's the latest from the Big Apple?" she asks as she invites him in and points knowingly at the scotch.
Will nods with no hesitation. He misses the good old times. He misses burning the midnight oil, throwing casual glances at the corner office in front of his and see her deep into her papers. Though he can't complain about his new partner. Richard is a good company, a willing drinker and a baseball aficionado. A good match in the end, unless their teams play against each other, which luckily only happens twice a year. "The latest are that we got Ryan Nichols," he spills with no false modesty, then stares expectantly at Diane.
She offers him a glass, then sits back on her chair. But her blank look is not what Will was hoping for.
"Who's Ryan Nichols?" she asks confused, then wets her lips with a small sip from her glass.
Who is…? "Ryan Nichols, the Broadway actor, he's everywhere." He offers hints that she doesn't seem to get and his whole picture of impressing her goes to hell.
"You have a way of making me feel inadequate," she reproaches him playfully.
Will embraces the opportunity to tease her a bit. "You should ask Kurt to take you to the theater more often. How is he doing by the way?"
Diane raises a brow and smiles, genuinely happy for Will's interest. At least she looks like it. "He's doing fine, thanks for asking. So back to this guy, what did he do to need a lawyer?"
"Drug dealing." Two words spoken with ridiculous calm and gravity. Two words that for both Diane and Will have the same funny meaning. Though there was a time in which they didn't find it funny at all.
Her stare is one of astonishment, but Will can see she's sniggering up her sleeves. "Are you kidding?" she asks.
Will laughs mildly, entertained by her reaction.
Diane gapes a few times, then looks away between incredulous and laughing. "What's with you and drug dealers?"
"I missed Bishop," he jokes with all the seriousness he can fake, which at the moment is scarce.
"Speaking of," she gets serious, as she sits back in a pose that Will knows very well is a faux attempt at being nonchalant; then she brings one finger to her lips pensively.
And Will knows he should prepare himself inwardly for whatever might come.
"Have you heard from Alicia lately?" Her gaze shifts, slightly uncomfortably, between his eyes and the traffic of associates outside her office. Will turns slightly and spots a delegation from his own branch. He waves at the partners. It's almost time for the meeting. When he looks back at Diane, she's still quietly waiting for an answer.
Alicia. That name always used to have such a cumbrous effect. The same crushing impact of a piano thrown down by a ten floors height. Apparently it still does. And it usually always ends in the same way; with him lying under the free-falling piano like a modern Wile E. Coyote. He swallows. Why is she asking? In no way she can know they met only a couple of weeks ago. Or about their lunch arrangements. Or can she? Will scrutinizes her attentively, keeping the shadow of discomfort at bay. He can't really tell Diane what happened between them, but at the same time he has a feeling that a lie would be a much worse idea. So he chooses the harmless truth in the middle and skips every unnecessary detail. "Yes, a couple of weeks ago, why?"
Diane doesn't move. She seems to study his reaction, measure the significance of his words from behind her sturdy desk. It's something that always made him feel guilty even in absence of crime. The power of a not really clear conscience.
A deep sigh announces her words. "I made a proposal to her and Cary last Friday. It'll be discussed in today's meeting."
A proposal.
He mentally repeats the list of topics from the agenda that reached his email roughly three weeks before. He tries to remember if there was any additional point he might have missed. His memory is usually good. Diane is talking about last Friday. He should remember. "It wasn't in the agenda," he points out. He sort of feels tricked, though he has no idea why. In the end, Chicago doesn't belong to him anymore. It should be none of his business what kind of proposal Diane might be offering to a firm that in the end still represents an enemy.
"No, it wasn't," she admits.
He nods, uncertain if he should ask or just wait for Diane to spill it. Eventually, curiosity wins. It always does. "I feel like I'm out of the loop and missing something. What kind of proposal are we talking about?"
"I proposed to merge back our firms."
The placid, almost toneless voice in which she speaks these words puzzles Will. It takes him a moment to understand what Diane is telling him.
Oh.
If it weren't for her tense, restless gaze, he could think she's talking about the weather. Or Stock Market.
"Okay." He nods, but he has no idea to what. What would that mean? That Alicia would become Diane's name partner? There is some wicked irony in that. His mind goes back one year and a bunch of months in time. To the day he was the one offering her the name partnership. And a sarcastic half laugh escapes his mouth as he remembers how everything went to shit at the speed of light. With a gulp of scotch he helps down those words. I proposed to merge back our firms. One more sip and he feels better.
"Things changed, Will. A lot." Diane poses her glass and rests her elbows on the desk, giving a more confident feeling to their conversation.
"Yes, looks like it," he nods again. But his ironic smile is gone. He honestly has no idea how he feels about it, about the fact that the moment he left, things seemed to get back to peaceful. What happened that led Diane toward considering to join forces with Alicia and Cary? For what he remembers, the war was still in full swing only a few months ago. But again, he wasn't here, was he? "Why them?"
"Because this war is damaging both firms. We keep poaching the same clients back and forth, jumping on the same cases, on the same witnesses and pieces of evidence. And clients start to use it against us. Peter's scandal didn't hurt only them. We still have clients who were brought in by Eli! You saw the figures yourself. Add to this that I'm tired of fighting against my own partners. With David Lee it's everyday a struggle for existence," she blurts it out with clear frustration and a theatrical motion of her hand.
Suddenly New York City looks like a happy oasis. He's dumbstruck, as he realizes that he hasn't missed any of this. He hasn't missed David Lee, or any other partner, for what is worth. Present company excepted, of course.
"I made them the offer, but I wanted to talk this out with you before it gets official," she murmurs. "So far only David knows and you can imagine yourself how happy he was with my move."
"What did they say?" he asks. For curiosity more than anything, since he has little say in the matter, anyway.
"That they would consider my proposal," Diane replies, this time more calmly.
"Good."
Is it really good?
"You don't sound like good," Diane observes, as she tilts lightly her head to the left.
"I'm just… confused?" His conflicted feelings come along with a hinted shrug.
"You shouldn't be. We are all moving on in our own way. You chose to leave. I'm choosing to try and bring back things as they were before. Sort of."
Will is about to speak, to respond that no, he can't see how things could ever get back as they were before after everything that happened. But his words remain a thought, as a shy knock on the door interrupts them. Diane's secretary informs them that the partners are ready and waiting for them in the conference room.
"We will discuss this later," Diane promises, as she stands up, walks to the door, then stops on the threshold, waiting for him.
Will nods to himself. He suddenly feels uncomfortable. He's going to meet Alicia in a couple of hours and for the life of him he can't picture one single reason for which she should have omitted to tell him something like this.
The board meeting unfolds like every other meeting at LG. It's a time jump in a past that makes him laugh in amusement; at the biting exchanges he's not used to anymore between David and Diane, at Howard's inept remarks; at the astonished glances of his gang who isb latantly not acquainted to this tested circus. Nothing changed, really nothing. Included the side glances he gets when Diane mentions Alicia's name. And more partners than he hoped for feel the compelling need to look at him. He has to exploit a lot of patience and self-control to ignore them. Gossip seems to never die.
It's past noon when the meeting is over. It lasted more than two hours, and at least forty minutes were wasted in pointless repetitions. On his way out of the conference room, he casts an impatient glance at his wrist watch to make sure he's not going to be late for lunch.
"Hungry?" Diane asks.
He's taken a bit off guard, for his main care is not really about eating but about the company. "Just making sure I'm not late for a meeting," he replies vaguely.
"Some old friend?" Diane hints with an innocent smile.
Some old friend. Let's stick with that definition, shall we? "Yes, something like that," he confirms, trying to appear nonchalant.
"Just so you know it, you have written guilty all over your face," Diane susses him out.
Busted.
"It's only a lunch," he hastens to point out. Though on second thought, his mental alertness can only make it worse. Diane certainly has an idea of what their lunches used to look like. He considers adding that he really means lunch, but he fears getting stuck in a blind alley, so he gives up and opts for a less harmful silence.
"Don't forget you are already booked for dinner." She looks at him askance, as she reminds him of their plans for the night.
Will acknowledges the arrangements with a nod, then salutes her. He really has to go. After the conversation they had, he's looking forward to this lunch with even more anticipation.