An Ally McBeal Fanfiction
Miracles don't happen. They just don't. Good things never happen. They just don't. People don't just raise from the dead. They just don't. Time travel doesn't exist. It just doesn't. Murders don't happen without a reason. They just don't. A four-year-old tube of contraceptive cream is never used. It just isn't.
But what happens when all those things are defied? What happens when there's a good-miracle-of-an-exlover-being-raised-from-the-dead-because-of-time-travel-which-causes-murder-and-a-four-year-old-tube-of-contraceptive-cream to-be-used. You might say what happens is chaos. I, Allison Marie McBeal, say what happened was perfection personified.
The last thing I remember was fighting with Larry. He'd found that four-year-old tube and wanted me to use it, with him. Apparently, telling him that I was saving it for someone else was not a satisfactory answer. So, we got into a fight and ended up knocking me out. Or at least, that's what I think happened.
The next thing I knew: I was in the unisex bathroom of Cage and Fish Law Firm, where I work. Why am I here? I thought, noticing that the small clock by the sink read 2:33 AM. Ironically, I wasn't tired. Maybe it was eating 3 cartons of Ben and Jerry's icecream and then throwing it all up. I knew that stuff was magical!
There was a hand brushing across my backside. My first thought was Jack Billings! "Don't you ever-" I whirled around, to see the hand creeping across me. And, I blinked a few times. Seven times to be exact.
And to my delight and slight horror there he stood. He was supposed to be dead. If he was dead- why was he here? It was just like the olden days, in a way, to see him standing there, to see his infectious grin- I shook my head. I was not going to think about that. I was not going to think about that. It is thin air. He is not there. Thinking about orgasm with thin air is creepy. Ally, don't think about it. I told myself. That didn't help. It only made me think about it more. That time in the car, when we were fourteen. I slapped myself, wondering what part of don't think about it did I not understand. That only brought back more painful memories of the day we found out about the brain tumor. That only brought back more painful memories of the day he died.
But, if he was dead- why was he here? I reached out a hand to touch him. He'd touched me, didn't that prove that he was real? My hand touched his shirt, then slowly, as if moving by it's own will, that I did not at all object to, unbuttoned his shirt and touched his chest. It was soft and smooth and- not cold and not dead. I would have screamed, but that would only alert security and then well... that wouldn't end well; a law suit for tresspassing or something along those lines. But, I didn't care about that now. There were much better things to do then worry about a law suit. Much much better things.
My tone softened when I saw the man infront of me. And I finished my statement- "...do that again." Then, I realized that didn't really come out right. Another foot-in-the-mouth statement. "I meant.. uh... don't ever do that again." I corrected, not sounding at all convincing, just like an awkward freak.
I expected him to turn and laugh in bitter scorn. I expected him to walk out and leave me here all alone. I expected him to ask, "What the hell, Ally?" He didn't. Instead he just laughed and said, "You're one strange girl Ally."
That was the Billy that I had known. Not the one after Georgia. She had changed him, made him like a male version of her. I stared at him and the only thing that I could find to say was, "Billy, is that really you?"
He rolled his eyes, indicating that was a stupid question. "Of course it is, Ally."
Now for stupid question number two. "Are you dead?"
And, obvious answer number two. "No, I couldn't do this if I was." Then, he kissed me. It was just like the olden days, his lips on mine, the world around us nothing. The ground below us, nothing. Everything was gone except for us. It felt as if we were floating on air.
This time, unlike the affair, there were no interuptions. I finally broke away, unwillingly, gasping for air. There was nothing to say. Or, the only thing that I could say, would certainly be another foot-in-mouth statement.
After a few moments of silence, and a few awkward glances, Billy finally spoke. "It's been a while since we did this."
"Since the affair..." I replied with out thinking. I hit myself on the head with my hand. That was stupid, Ally. Very stupid. Never mention affairs. That is number eleven in the book of rules.
Something seemed to be troubling him, undoubtely my shitty remark. He said nothing, as if waiting for me to do something.
Rule number 1,098 in the book of rules, wait for the man to make the move.
Although the book of rules had not been particularly helpful, I decided to go with it on this instance. So, I just stood there awkwardly, fingering the collar of my jacket. It wasn't seductive. It was cheesy and mostlikely, made this even awkwarder.
I bit my lip, then impulsively kissed him again. Our tongue danced. His bottom lip barely touched mine. I practically swooned into his arms, not wanting it to end, longing for closeness, longing for more. I reached for the button on his black pants. After all, no one but us was here.
With Larry, he had to innitiate it. He had to undress me first. There was a sense of insecurity, however slight, but it had always been there. But, with Billy it was different. We had a sense of equalness, almost as if I had confidence. When we were in college, there were really no boundaries. No fear. Almost, no securities. When I rested my head against his chest, it seemed as if all of that was coming back.
"Ally, you know I've had to deal with feelings for you for years." Billy began, as he pulled off my jacket and tossed it to the floor.
I waited with baited breath.
"I've loved you, while loving Georgia." He continued as he unbuttoned my shirt, tossing that too, to the ground.
"Then why are you undressing me?" I asked innocently. Well, in my opinion, that was a legitimate question.
Just as he slipped my skirt off, I jumped. "I forgot the cream." I announced. Ally! I mentally-yelled at myself. You're just about to have sex with the man you have loved since you were eight, and you decide that you need the spermicide you accidently stole four years ago. I mentally-kicked myself, straightened out the hem of my bra and dug out the cream from my jacket. Then, I dashed into the left most stall and applied it, it would just be embarrassing to do it out there. It was four years old, would it even work? If it didn't work, then I would get pregnant... maybe... then I would have to explain to everyone that it was the child of a dead man. Something told me this would not end well.
Before I really knew what was happening, and before I could say anything, Billy and I were making love. It wasn't like the affair. It was different. I seemed to have lost all my inhibitions. Nothing was screaming at me not to do it. No voices were yelling, "Ally you know what your doing it wrong. You're betraying your friends." But now, it was just as if this was all meant to happen. As if that unsaid "goodbye" when Billy died was washed away like sand castles with ocean waves. Bygones. It just seemed to be that simple. There was black and white, but no grey.
When the moment was over, I wiped a bit of sweat off his forehead. "But… Georgia. If she knew… don't you still…" I couldn't finish my sentences. I knew it was awkward to talk about a men's exwife, especially when I had been in love with that man, and when I had just made love to that same man.
"She's dead." Was his simple answer.
Looking back, I should have known that was too good to be true. But, reality has never been one of my strong points.
"Really?" That was all I could say. Georgia was my friend, but in many of the dreams—or shall I say halluncinations?—that I had Georgia died. But, she and Billy had divorced. I supposed I still had some sort of a grudge.
And, that was a question I never found the answer to. There was a thud, and I fell. From where? I didn't know. I could feel something poking me—obviously the side of the contraceptive cream tube. I fumbled with it, and found the lid twisted tightly closed. As if it had never been opened. I felt the floor under me, and clothes—they must have appeared, against me. I heard a soft voice, but I kept my eyes closed. "Ally?"
My eyes blinked open, slowly, cherishing that moment. And, there looking down at me was Larry. That was when I crashed into the wall of reality. It had all been a delusion.