Negotiated attack

Eli knocked sharply on the door and took an involuntary step back. Involuntary because, despite being invited, the knock itself had required a sizeable portion of courage and he simply didn't have any remaining for overzealous proximity to the door. The last time he'd been inside, properly inside, this apartment there had been well deserved pottery aimed at his head. Sharp shards of reproach and anger and splinters of long broken dreams flying in all directions. There had been many apologies since then; days and weeks of regret eating his insides, and finally, blessedly, forgiveness. Even so - a frown lined his forehead, mouth held in tension - Alicia never called meetings on Saturdays.

He was not reassured when she answered his knock dressed, quite obviously, in her usual Saturday attire. His suit felt suddenly, obnoxiously overdone. He cried foul at the thought and squashed the feeling down. A suit was never overdone.

A suit was confidence. A suit was power.

So how was it that Alicia Florrick - with her flowing cardigan, loose trousers, bare feet - manage to make him feel like a fool? Every – single – damn – time. She didn't even have to speak when she answered the door, just…smile, that little infuriating less-than-genuine smile, and he immediately felt like he was walking into a trap.

The worst part was that she knew all this was going through his head, because somehow, he'd let her set up residence there.

The Chief of Staff followed Alicia into her home, each step becoming warier the further in they went. Her casually attired figure traversed the corridor ahead of him, bare feet hitting the floor purposely like she still had heels on. It made him nervous, even more so when she didn't continue to the kitchen as expected but swerved unerringly into the lounge. At the doorway he hesitated. There was something faintly recognisable on the tv screen, but his eyes were on Alicia, standing next to the sofa.

"Don't you want to…" he pointed at the kitchen, towards the island, the safe place. The neutral place.

She ignored him and instead inclined her head at the sofa, voice and smile oversweet. "Sit down Eli."

The nervous feeling increased.

"I thought…" he straightened up and tried to sound professional, "you wanted a meeting."

Alicia's smile sharpened. "I lied." There was danger in the laziness of her tone, like a circling shark. "Sit down Eli."

He tried one final time.

"If there's no meeting then I really must…"

"Sit. Down."

The smile vanished in the heat of the command. Eli reacted instinctively and took the path to the sofa in three strides, perching himself rigidly where she'd indicated.

"Better," Alicia said shortly. Eli glared at her tone but was distracted by the item she held out to him expectantly. He felt himself internally shrink back but tried not to let it show on his face. Instead he cocked an eyebrow at the item as though it offended him.

"What is that?"

"It's a games controller." She wasn't even trying to disguise the impatience in her voice. A sharp thrust of her hand and he had no choice but to take it before it could land heavily in his lap. The pictures on the screen came into focus as he diverted his attention away from the irate lawyer. A first player shooter. He took a minute to gather the correct tone of voice, furrowing his brows in confusion, eyes looking up at her wide and pleading.

"I don't know how to play this."

Alicia to his relief? delight? horror? collapsed herself onto the sofa next to him, scooping up her own controller.

"Liar," she said pleasantly, hitting the relevant button to start the game. Eli remained stationary as her character set off on her half of the screen. He flicked his eyes to her uncertainly and she spoke again. "Marissa told me that you were the one to teach her."

Eli let his eyes slide shut, his head fall back. Marissa. What imp had been at work the day he made his daughter Alicia Florrick's body woman? The two most exhaustive women of his acquaintance who were both able to see through his schemes, call him out, and generally delighted in watching him squirm. An alliance of these two formidable women had been the last thing he'd wanted. He should have known really that they would bond. Marissa, as he understood it, was generally quite likeable, despite her genetics. This arranged non-meeting was clearly a negotiated attack designed to take advantage of his more malleable state, and so he opted for admitting nothing. Alicia didn't let that phase her. Her character ran at a steady lope across the screen, picking up and discarding weaponry as she went.

"Marissa thinks we have some issues to work out," well she wasn't wrong, "and suggested this as a suitable activity to do so…" He was going to have serious words about meddling…

"Eli."

Her character was stood directly across from his. Now he didn't just feel exposed in reality, but on the screen. His fingers itched to get the first shot off or run out of her eye-line. On the sofa Alicia was watching him so he turned his head to meet her eyes.

"Well?" she raised her eyebrows at him.

"Alicia…I…" he started. A crack of gunfire cut his words off as he jumped. "Hey!" She was grinning smugly. His character's health depleted.

"You need to fight back Eli."

"I just don't see how this is going to help," he snapped quietly but forcefully.

Alicia set off another shot. The controller vibrated in his hands.

"Well, it's making me feel better." She was teasing, a smile on her face, and that was what got him, because he owed her that much. His character died.

"Okay. Here's what's going to happen." Alicia put the controller between them on the cushions. "We are going to shoot at each other," her voice was calm and measured, controlled, like she was speaking to a child. His lips quirked at her choice of words. "In the game," she clarified with a quirk of her own. "Then we are going to do a campaign." The words sounded new on her lips, like she was trying them out. Like Marissa had told her what they were. He could imagine his daughter here, instructing Alicia in the art of the first-person shooter game. He had a little jolt of a competitive rush. There was a possibility he might beat her at this…but he wasn't sure if he should.

A finger got pointed in his face. "You play properly, or don't play at all." Woman was a bloody mind reader. "Don't be nice," she said the word like it had a bad flavour. Eli gave a sheepish smile, feeling his protestations, his objections, crumble in the force of her onslaught. The warm, pleasant feeling like sunlight, like acceptance (he understood it as friendship), was trying to infuse him and he began to let it. He'd locked it away after his confession but this…this moment felt safe to let it out again.

He supposed he'd have to thank his meddlesome daughter.

"The campaign," he asked tentatively, "will that be together, on the same side?"

"Yes, Eli." She was trying to sound annoyed, like it was obvious, but the softening of her face betrayed her. She knew why he asked. He hoped that she felt the same; like something important that had been torn, was being repaired.

"Okay," she stood up, "coffee first." She picked up a discarded mug. "You might want to change your avatar and name…" Her head tilted at the screen, a mischievous smile curling the corners of her mouth. The moment she was out the room Gold scooped up the controller. Goldilocks. His eyes creased in humour even as he shouted, "Ha ha," in his driest tone.

He got so involved in customising his character that it took him a little while to realise that Alicia was standing in the doorway, holding two cups of coffee, a strange mixture of amusement and affection (he hoped it was affection) on her face.

"What?" he couldn't help protesting defensively. She lost the smile on her lips, but her eyes betrayed her.

"Lose the tie, Eli. Its Saturday."

He pretended to look affronted.

"This," he said seriously, "is a meeting. Saturday or not."

That got a twitch, maybe even a bit of a twinkle. It felt good.

Alicia moved to sit next to him and, once settled, offered a coffee mug.

"You ready?"

Eli took the mug with a grin.

"Oh, yes, I'm ready."