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Fic - Body Politic (Will, Alicia/Will) pg,1/1
Title: Body Politic
Summary: He finds her at the bar. This is where they are now. He tells himself that they'll be old friends one day. Maybe he'll start to believe it eventually.
Rating: pg
Author's Notes: 835 words. Set pre-series. For the lovely![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sweetjamielee who requested Will/Alicia and the prompt drinking games ages ago for a comment-fic meme. All mistakes are mine. These characters, however, are not.
He finds her at the bar, of course.
Thirty-six hours and counting until graduation and his skin hums with anticipation for too many things as the door closes behind him, the bell above announcing his entrance to the nearly empty bar. His eyes focus in on her before they register anything else – ratty sweatshirt with the bold letters of Georgetown faded and worn covering her shoulders, sneakers propped up on the chair across from her, curly hair tamed by a messy bun. He knew she’d be here. He had heard her roommate’s party from a block away and this is what Alicia does when she needs peace and quiet: buries herself in the back of her favorite bar, drinks a beer and catches up with work. He knows this because he knows her and this time inside of two years ago he would have been right there beside her.
Will nods towards the bartender and stuffs his hands deep into his pockets, falters a moment before putting one foot in front of the other and finally moving towards her. Alicia looks up just in time, feet tapping against the back of the chair in motion with the music as she smiles widely and full of teeth.
(There was a time, maybe, not too long ago when he thought her smile was just for him.
That moments akin to this one were concrete and full-proof, that the two of them were meant to be a part of something that was indestructible, a perfect body politic.
Will notes the faultiness behind his line of thinking in the back of his head as he nears her.)
“Hi,” she breathes, like she had expected him to show up here, to come looking for her, and her smile is still present as she moves her feet off the chair and pushes it out for him.
They used to come here a lot in the early days. When it was just the two of them making their way through this town the best way they knew how. The bartender brings them two new beers without thought and Will kind of stares at it a moment before mumbling a thanks. He wonders idly if he’ll be able to replicate this in Baltimore – this easiness, this innate knowledge of his surroundings and how to work everything and everyone in just the right way in an effort to succeed. He watches Alicia palm the beer bottle back in forth in her hands, smile perpetually twisting at the side of her mouth and thinks he isn’t at all ready to leave Georgetown behind. Not yet.
There’s small-talk, another beer. They haven’t seen each other much lately. Not since they got together and managed to promptly fall apart because Will couldn’t find the time to say the things he wanted to say. It’s always been an issue for him, a fault to add to long list of many. Still, now, in this bar with her across from him, and the clock in the corner counting down their time together, there are things he wants to say to her. Things he needs to say to her. He has just never known how.
He’s three beers in and she’s talking with her hands about some friend they used to have in common, laughing at her own story when he catches sight of the ring on her fourth finger and remembers. There are memories that flow through him like a storm then – his apartment that first year, his mouth at the jut of her hipbone, her smile small, almost shy as she watched, as she dug her fingers deep into his scalp in anticipation. How her mouth was so lovely and perfect as his name fell past her lips, a prayer of sorts and after, her curls sprawled against his chest, his heartbeat steady under her palm.
Will remembers and wishes he didn’t, watches as the diamond glitters in the dim, flickering light of the bar and kind of laughs at himself, low and mirthless, like it’s just for him. She catches it, of course – the laugh, the alteration of eye-contact, always one step ahead. Alicia never falters.
Softly, he murmurs, “It was never going to be us, was it?” before he can stop himself.
Alicia draws her lips into a thin line for a moment, fingers unconsciously twisting the ring until the diamond digs into her palm, out of sight. She smiles after, tight and raw, no teeth.
“I really don’t know.”
In his lap Will’s fingers curl into a fist and then release, itching for a baseball, for the feel of leather and stitches beneath his skin to soothe him, to calm the mess inside his head. Instead, he reaches for his beer, fingers tight around the neck, thumb dragging across the already peeling label.
“Yeah.” He laughs again, the sound thick and foreign as it falls between them. The light flickers across her face. “Yeah.”
It would be easier for them both if he believed it.
Summary: He finds her at the bar. This is where they are now. He tells himself that they'll be old friends one day. Maybe he'll start to believe it eventually.
Rating: pg
Author's Notes: 835 words. Set pre-series. For the lovely
sweetjamielee who requested Will/Alicia and the prompt drinking games ages ago for a comment-fic meme. All mistakes are mine. These characters, however, are not. He finds her at the bar, of course.
Thirty-six hours and counting until graduation and his skin hums with anticipation for too many things as the door closes behind him, the bell above announcing his entrance to the nearly empty bar. His eyes focus in on her before they register anything else – ratty sweatshirt with the bold letters of Georgetown faded and worn covering her shoulders, sneakers propped up on the chair across from her, curly hair tamed by a messy bun. He knew she’d be here. He had heard her roommate’s party from a block away and this is what Alicia does when she needs peace and quiet: buries herself in the back of her favorite bar, drinks a beer and catches up with work. He knows this because he knows her and this time inside of two years ago he would have been right there beside her.
Will nods towards the bartender and stuffs his hands deep into his pockets, falters a moment before putting one foot in front of the other and finally moving towards her. Alicia looks up just in time, feet tapping against the back of the chair in motion with the music as she smiles widely and full of teeth.
(There was a time, maybe, not too long ago when he thought her smile was just for him.
That moments akin to this one were concrete and full-proof, that the two of them were meant to be a part of something that was indestructible, a perfect body politic.
Will notes the faultiness behind his line of thinking in the back of his head as he nears her.)
“Hi,” she breathes, like she had expected him to show up here, to come looking for her, and her smile is still present as she moves her feet off the chair and pushes it out for him.
They used to come here a lot in the early days. When it was just the two of them making their way through this town the best way they knew how. The bartender brings them two new beers without thought and Will kind of stares at it a moment before mumbling a thanks. He wonders idly if he’ll be able to replicate this in Baltimore – this easiness, this innate knowledge of his surroundings and how to work everything and everyone in just the right way in an effort to succeed. He watches Alicia palm the beer bottle back in forth in her hands, smile perpetually twisting at the side of her mouth and thinks he isn’t at all ready to leave Georgetown behind. Not yet.
There’s small-talk, another beer. They haven’t seen each other much lately. Not since they got together and managed to promptly fall apart because Will couldn’t find the time to say the things he wanted to say. It’s always been an issue for him, a fault to add to long list of many. Still, now, in this bar with her across from him, and the clock in the corner counting down their time together, there are things he wants to say to her. Things he needs to say to her. He has just never known how.
He’s three beers in and she’s talking with her hands about some friend they used to have in common, laughing at her own story when he catches sight of the ring on her fourth finger and remembers. There are memories that flow through him like a storm then – his apartment that first year, his mouth at the jut of her hipbone, her smile small, almost shy as she watched, as she dug her fingers deep into his scalp in anticipation. How her mouth was so lovely and perfect as his name fell past her lips, a prayer of sorts and after, her curls sprawled against his chest, his heartbeat steady under her palm.
Will remembers and wishes he didn’t, watches as the diamond glitters in the dim, flickering light of the bar and kind of laughs at himself, low and mirthless, like it’s just for him. She catches it, of course – the laugh, the alteration of eye-contact, always one step ahead. Alicia never falters.
Softly, he murmurs, “It was never going to be us, was it?” before he can stop himself.
Alicia draws her lips into a thin line for a moment, fingers unconsciously twisting the ring until the diamond digs into her palm, out of sight. She smiles after, tight and raw, no teeth.
“I really don’t know.”
In his lap Will’s fingers curl into a fist and then release, itching for a baseball, for the feel of leather and stitches beneath his skin to soothe him, to calm the mess inside his head. Instead, he reaches for his beer, fingers tight around the neck, thumb dragging across the already peeling label.
“Yeah.” He laughs again, the sound thick and foreign as it falls between them. The light flickers across her face. “Yeah.”
It would be easier for them both if he believed it.
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Oh my gosh, you've made me hurt for them all over again. I'm glad you chose to write from Will's perspective. My ship of these two has faltered largely because I feel there's been so little this season portraying him as the deep, feeling, complex, good person Alicia deserves. (I believe he still probably IS that person, somewhere in there; the writers just haven't been very demonstrating of it). But you made this feel so real and wistful and full of emotion and now I feel sorry for his cute dumb face again.
The truth: Even if it got to the point where I don't ship them on the show anymore? I will always, ALWAYS ship them like burning at Georgetown. *starry-eyes*
Your details of the things he notices about her, and the ring... that STUPID RING... are absolutely lovely and heartbreaking. And the theme is brilliant.
Kudos to you. Thank you for reminding me of the potential of these two. :-*
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I want to write fic detailing their relationship from beginning to start during this time frame
WE ALL NEED THIS IN OUR LIVES PLZ THX??
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Re: Georgetown fic. I'm really, REALLY thinking about it? I've had this Peter/Alicia thing set post 9 Hours I've had rolling around in my head for ages. Maybe once I can get that out, I'll give it a go?
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I'm doing that dreadticipation thing for next Tuesday; I want it, and am terrified of it at the same time!
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I've been thinking about Georgetown fic all day. I just want to thank you for that.
Will there be a way for us to listen online?
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Listen online?? You can't watch on the teevee like the rest of us?? :-O
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Na, the radio thing isn't until May. But yes, you can listen online here. I'm sure I'll be posting a reminder closer to time. Because apparently I want to be embarrassed in real time in front of AS MANY PEOPLE AS POSSIBLE. :)
Okay, I can do not shippy. For some reason my mind rejects A/P shippiness. I think I'm too mad at him, and too protective of Alicia.
Sigh. I have issues.