13I've never felt as if I could rival the TGW writers in terms of clever dialogue or delightfully convoluted plots, so up until now I haven't attempted any TGW fanfic. But tonight's episode left me thinking, what would have happened if Alicia had worked up the nerve to get on that elevator with Will?
This sort of thing, I can write. Totally PWP, totally short, and totally a one-shot, but I welcome your comments.
Spoilers (sort of ) for "Invitation to an Inquest".
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Alicia wavers for a solid 30 seconds before she's in motion.
She slips through the elevator doors just as they're closing.
Will is standing at the back, trying hard to school his face into impassivity. But dammit, it – the tension between them – has been so thick either one of them could easily have cut it with a knife.
They'd been going to extreme lengths not to be alone together, up until they'd both decided that was ridiculous. That they were grown-ups. With a history, to be sure, but perfectly capable of working together, being in proximity to each other.
Though every time she's in a room with him, she can feel her breathing get shallow, and for the life of her she just can't seem to train herself out of that, even after all this time.
It happens again as she steps into the confinement of the little carpeted box.
Suddenly Alicia just wants it all to be like it was before.
Not the friends part.
She turns to the elevator buttons, even though she knows she and Will park on the same level and he'll have already pushed P3.
She's in front of him, unable to read his face. Takes a deep breath and makes up her mind.
She's done with the yearning, done with the internal struggle. Tonight, she just wants all the awkwardness to stop.
She's in search of something else. Something like … afterglow.
Eyes front, Alicia takes a slow step backwards towards him.
Then another.
And a third.
She can feel the heat coming off his body.
One more, very deliberate step, and her body is pressed up against him. Her ass molded against his expensive trousers. Her shoulderblades making contact with his chest. She closes her eyes. Waits.
He's still for a couple of beats. Analyzing. Weighing the risk. Trying to guess what she really wants from him.
So she leans back into him a little more firmly, and tilts her head back, exposing the alabaster column of her neck.
She feels, rather than hears, him exhale raggedly, and then his hands come to rest lightly on her hips.
She can feel his breath on her neck, and she can't help it. A little breathy moan escapes her.
He snaps.
Both arms tighten around her waist and seal her to him, as his lips attack the sensitive spot behind her ear. It's a spot he knows well, and oddly enough, one that Peter never discovered in 19 years of marriage.
Alicia's knees buckle a little. But it's okay. Will's there to catch her.