A/N 1: I wrote this in a hurry before the episode 4x18 aired, already knowing we were going to need a different ending, but not knowing exactly how the story would play out. Enjoy!

A/N 2: An extraordinary friend from another ship betaread this in a hurry to make sure it was up right after the episode aired. The shipper war reached such a level of hate that she begged me not to mention her name. And I won't. But I love you and thank you for what you did, you know who you are.

She's never been fond of galas. The constant tension, the forced socialization with people she barely knew – and in most cases could barely stand –, the need to keep her perfect faux smile even when after two hours of empty chatter all she really wanted was to go back to the comfort and quiet of her home; all of this had always made her uncomfortable. The Chicago Shamrock Dinner swarmed with the highest political offices' representatives and the cream of high society. It sounded so boring and bad in her ears, though at second thought, it was also where she belonged.

Tonight specifically, the strain had reached such levels that, between Kresteva's arrogance and the subtle, veiled competition between Peter and Will, not even alcohol was of any relief, but had rather made things even worse, since she had ended up saying things she was sure she'd regret later. At some point, she had taken refuge in the relatively silent and calm restroom. It was the only place where none of the men in the hall could reach her.

She checked her image reflected in the mirror. Her pale skin and her tired eyes showed off all the fatigue of a hard day.

Having to deal with the death of an old client had been exhausting. Having to deal with the memories tied to those days had made it all the more difficult and heavy.

In the empty room, she shivered, feeling cold. In contrast with the heat of the over-crowded hall the refined marbled restroom felt freezing. She clung to herself, rubbing her arms in an attempt to fight the goose bumps. The contact with the bare skin of her arms made her pensive, as the image of Will flashed in her mind, for the umpteenth forbidden time. She was with him the last time she had heard from her client, more than one year before. She closed her eyes, sighing in a mix of anguish and melancholy, as she daydreamed of that day. She could still feel the delicate, yet very confident touch of Will's hands on her skin, as he caressed her belly, slowly pulling away the fabric of her black satin top to expose the soft alabaster skin beneath. More than one year later, his touch still felt so vivid to her.

All the effort she had put in back then to convince herself that leaving him was the right thing had been destroyed with a single kiss. The fragile façade of normality that had been so hard to create had been torn down the very moment their lips had met for the first time in what felt like an eternity.

She opened her eyes, as the cold neon lights of the restrooms brought her back to the reality of her surroundings.

It had to end.

In one way or the other, this whole situation had to end. It was becoming distracting, improper, sick and, on certain occasions, slightly embarrassing. It was getting out of control, and they both knew it.

She checked her image in the mirror one last time. Those cold lights were really unmerciful, she considered, then took a self-encouraging breath and returned to the merrymaking crowd. She could hear the soft music coming from the hall and stopped, instinctively, before reaching the entry. She looked down and behind her as a couple walked past her.

She couldn't do it. She breathed deeply. Once, to try and calm down her heart, drumming furiously. Twice, to perfect the contrived smile on her face. Useless. She could spend the rest of the night hidden behind that refined curtain, breathing and not succeeding to walk through that vault entry. She shook her head and walked away again, to search for him.

Her absence wouldn't be noticed anyway. She had already missed part of the dinner for work. She had her excuse in case somebody wondered about her being gone for another while.

Wandering through the hallways, she searched every face she came across in the hope to find Will. She sighed, resigned, when she found herself in front of the main entry. He seemed nowhere in sight. Yielding to the universe giving her a screaming sign, she gave up on trying to find him and turned around to walk back to where she was supposed to be in the first place. But the moment she turned, her heart skipped a beat. Standing suddenly directly in front of her, Will was staring at her with a tense gaze. If the dinner had been stressful for her, she could only imagine what it had been for him.

Neither of the two dared to say anything for a moment. They both knew that things had reached a point of no return. This time they couldn't avoid talking about their feelings anymore.

Alicia sometimes wondered if not talking about it was exactly what had led them to this miserable situation. "We should talk," she whispered, trying to control the light quivering of her voice.

Will nodded, lightly, but the plain resignation in his eyes contradicted his simple act. Very blatantly. Still, he didn't decline her request and instead, he gestured for her to follow him to the first empty room.

In the privacy of that small hall, Alicia could finally relax a little and stop playing Saint Alicia's part. With Will, she didn't need that mask. Certainly not now, when all they had – and could maybe still have – was at stake. She had thought, pondered, weighed every aspect and consequence. She had taken account of the repercussions on all the people in her life. Her mind had been overworking on a choice that, in the end, was painful but necessary. For her, for Peter, for her kids, for Will. And the moment Will sat in front of her, they both knew that he wasn't going to like it.

"I…" Alicia hesitated. How could she even start it? "This is getting out of hand…" She whispered.

"I know," Will simply said. His gaze, though seemingly ready for the worst, still held some confidence, some hope.

"It's… it's… it wasn't supposed to happen again and…" It wasn't supposed to happen. Or was it? Maybe that kiss had meant something more than what she was forcing herself to believe. No. She shook her head to get rid of that thought. It wasn't supposed to happen.

"Alicia… it's okay," Will said, hastily. "We've already cleared it up," he shook his head, lightly, making clear that he wasn't willing to go there again. "It was… nothing…"

She nodded and looked down. Yes, he was right. It was only a moment of weakness. She looked up at him and met his tense gaze. For a moment, she wondered what they were doing there, sitting in front of each other, if they both seemed to agree that what happened a few weeks before was nothing. What were they expecting from each other? Another reassurance? Some sort of blessing? Or the need to hear those words spoken out loud for the millionth time in the hope they would finally sound convincing?

The lump in her throat told her that this wasn't going to be easy. She hinted a smile, unsecure, bitter, a bit melancholic. "We were good together, weren't we?" She asked, tentatively.

Tell me we weren't. Tell me we never were. Tell me that it was wrong and never meant to be.

Will's eyes lit up for a moment, as his mind probably replayed some of the same moments she'd been reliving over the last days.

"Yeah, we were," he said, as a nostalgic, wistful look clouded his features.

This wasn't the right answer. This wasn't what she needed to hear in this precise moment. All her confidence, her firm choice were suddenly vacillating.

She had to let him go, for good, before she had the time to rethink it. "This has to end," she whispered, her voice cracked in a desperate attempt to fight back tears. She hoped that Will wouldn't get her pain, but at short distance, chances were zero. It felt like breaking up with him all over again. This time it just felt even worse. More painful, more anguishing, more arduous. And for the life of her, she had no idea why.

Will looked at her. His gaze firm, straight. "Can you just do that?"

It was a simple question. And she already had her answer.

Could she just do that?

Could she just do that?

The question, repeated in her mind, echoed and hushed overwhelmingly every other thought.

Could she just end things like that? Could she just let him go once and for all? She sighed. The tear that fell down her cheek burned on her skin like a flame.

It was supposed to be easier. In her mind she had repeated how the scene was meant to play out, many times. In her mind, her choice was already made. All in her mind…

But now and here, in front of him, the choice that in her mind seemed the best and most logical one, didn't feel so right anymore. There was something that her mind couldn't control. She had wrongly assumed that she could keep her feelings at bay. But the fast, uncontrollable drum of her heart was a loud and unambiguous reminder; the more she tried to ignore it, the louder it throbbed. Her breathing got faster, as if trying to keep the pace with her heart, or maybe to cover its sound. Pointlessly.

Could she just do that?

"No…" The answer came on its own. She didn't have the time to think it. And she didn't know if it was a good or a bad thing. Only one thing was sure; the choice she had thought, pondered, weighed carefully, had been overturned in the space of a heartbeat. She couldn't stand to lose him again. She couldn't envisage a life that didn't include him. Her heart refused to let him go.

Will's face, confused and astonished, made clear that he had been expecting a totally different answer.

Not that she couldn't blame him. She had closed the door to her feelings, to her feelings for him, for so long that it took her a sort of self-imposed ultimatum to finally admit what she had overlooked. She loved him. She missed him. And the memory of their moments together, which kept growing more overwhelming every day, made it even clearer. Her heart couldn't be wrong.

Will's face lit up a bit, as hope leaked through his eyes, mixed with a hint of doubt.

Where would they go from here?

"What are we doing now?" He asked, seriously.

It was clear to both that what was supposed to be an end was slowly, unpredictably turning into a beginning.

Still, Alicia had no idea how to handle this whole situation. Right in the middle of the campaign face-offs, when Peter needed her the most, when Kresteva was more aggressive and combative than ever, she couldn't let her heart prevail completely without risking to cause an unprecedented catastrophe. At least for now, the only people involved in this had to remain themselves. And Peter. She owed him at least that, after giving him the illusion that their marriage could go back to the way it was before.

"I'll tell him the truth…" She said with a faint voice. Yes, she needed to be honest, for once, with Peter and with herself.

"Okay," Will nodded lightly, with an half smile, then hesitated a moment. "Are you sure?"

Will's concern was licit. The consequences, whatever the outcome of the elections, wouldn't be a bed of roses.

She sighed deeply, taking up all her courage, then smiled. "I am." In the silence, Alicia heard the wall clock ticking and peeped at it. She'd been gone for too long. They both had. People would really start to make assumptions if they didn't go back to the hall now, and possibly not together. "I should go back before someone starts to wonder about my absence," she said, then slowly stood up, not keeping her eyes off of him. She watched as Will stood up and walked to her, silently. There weren't any more words needed right now. The promise of what was to come was enough to make the wait more bearable.

She missed the way he looked at her; a way that made her feel so special. She closed her eyes as he leaned closer, in anticipation of the moment his lips would finally rest on hers. There was no anger, frustration or repressed feelings this time. It felt right.

When he broke the contact, she sighed slightly, a bit in disappointment, a bit in bliss, knowing that it wasn't a farewell kiss but a pleasant foretaste of her future.

She walked to the door and grabbed the handle, but before opening it, she turned to look at Will again one more time and met his smile. He still looked a bit bewildered, clearly disoriented by the outcome of a conversation that was unexpected for Alicia as well. She smiled backed and left.