Summary: Detail and back story for Alicia and Jason, in keeping with what we see on screen as best as I can. Let me know in reviews what you like or want to read about!

** I may be biased, but I think Chapter 7 is the best if you only read one. In Chapter 7 (which can be read as a stand-alone), Alicia goes home to Jason after asking Peter for a divorce. She talks to Jason about her marriage, and reveals to him her past with Will. It's an overview of all her romantic relationships in the show as she tries to tie things together and move forward. **

Chapter 1: Permission, Control

Jason and Alicia are together for the first time in her office (7x15). After she confronts him for avoiding her calls, they spend the next night together too, at her home, relieving months of tension between them. In different ways, Jason and Alicia both battle to stay in control (smut warning!)

Chapter 2: Midnight, Meditations

In the middle of the night, Jason can't sleep. Holding her while she sleeps and looking around her bedroom, he feels closer to Alicia than ever, but he finds the strength of his desire uncomfortable because she is married.

Chapter 3: Exposed, Drowning

Alicia and Jason both struggle with the intensity of their feelings for one another. Alicia wants to give in to her emotions, to give in to Jason, but is scared of how exposed she feels. Jason continues to struggle with her unavailability, and when the two decide to take a shower together he confronts her for the diamond rings on her hand.

Chapter 4: Instructions, Power

The lovers attempt to assert themselves over one another. They become more and more uninhibited as they lose themselves in desperate pleasure (shameless smut warning!)

Chapter 5: Ghosts, Lovers

An unexpected reminder of Will gets in the way of Alicia and Jason's evening. Alicia thinks about the two men - their similarities and their differences - and considers her relationships with both Will and Jason. Will she talk to Jason about her past? Jason senses that something is up - will he push her on it?

Chapter 6: Appetites, Attachment

After Jason kisses another woman in a bar, and Alicia's risqué under-the-table antics in 7x17, Alicia continues to live dangerously by being out in public with Jason and raising eyebrows. Their physical relationship gives way to an emotional intimacy that overwhelms both Alicia and Jason as they feel themselves falling, and falling fast.

Chapter 7: UNMANNED: Honesty, Hurt

After telling Peter that she wants a divorce (7x18), Alicia comes home to find Jason waiting for her. She tells him about her confrontation with Peter, which begins a long and difficult conversation with Jason about her past. After they discuss her marriage and request for a divorce, Alicia tells Jason about Will. She struggles with her feelings about love, loss, and trust. During the challenging conversation, Jason tries to calm her, tries to listen to her stories, and learn how best to support her.

Chapter 8: End, After

Follows Alicia through the days, weeks and months after END. It starts with Alicia, hours after the press conference, sitting on her kitchen floor, drinking alone, and thinking back over the past seven years in her apartment. As time passes, can she look forwards? Will she work out what might make her happy? (Smut warning).

"Just listen."

"To what?"

"My breathing."

Her stomach dropped, need aching between her legs. She pressed her thighs together and tried to steady her own breaths to keep pace with his.

As she sat still, eyes closed, all she could think about was how he'd kissed her in her home office, how he'd ran his hands up and down her back as she'd pushed her tongue into his mouth…

Suddenly she felt lips on her own – unsure for just a second whether they were real or imagined – but his gentle fingers tilting her jaw pulled her back to reality and into his kiss.

God, he was so tender with her, and the need spread from her core up to her abdomen, consuming.

"That's security, they turn the lights off after eleven…"

"Shhh…"

The need burned up past her chest, and tightened her throat.

Her body screamed at her its wants – needs for so long pressed down, denied. Needs that she had tried to alleviate with her own fingertips, and once, with her husband. She had only been able to take off the edge, not fulfill them. Now, she would satisfy them. He would satisfy them.

She climbed hungrily onto his lap, an exhale greedily falling from his mouth. She felt his want hard between her legs and clothes were suddenly obstacles beneath her frantic hands.

On shaking legs she stood to hike her skirt, his hands firm and wanting on her legs.

There were no words, just need, raw and burning, and she moved back to him, knees sinking into the couch as she sunk down onto him.

Now, all she could hear was his breathing, and all she could feel was his length, his hardness, his hands gripping her thighs as she rocked against him, blind and desperate.

He stared up at her, watched this goddess of a woman take all of him in, felt dizzy at the heat and the pressure as she enveloped him, her movements shooting ecstasy through his whole wanting body.

She wove one hand into his hair, holding onto him as she picked up her pace.

She was close already. The embers of desire had been smoldering inside her for weeks, hell, months. When she had asked him for stay to dinner, she had thought that she might sleep with him then and there after a meal of mini-tacos. She had been drunk enough, and god knows, needy enough. But Peter, Ruth, Eli – other people had had other plans, and so she was left alone with her fantasies.

Now his fingers crawled higher up her legs until they traced small, wet circles over her throbbing clit and fuck, "I'm, I'm gonna…" the words gave way to moans as she plunged over the edge and a climax smashed into her like a tidal wave, forceful and blinding, stealing the air from her lungs.

She pressed her mouth to his, vaguely heard his groan and felt its vibration on her lips as he followed her into oblivion, hips bucking up hard and then settling.

Then they were still. She didn't know what to say. Neither did he. The silence was peaceful, calm. She continued to listen to his breathing, the rise and fall of his chest.

"Now what?" she murmured eventually.

"Can I take you home? I mean… give you a ride?"

"Okay."

In the car, he held her hand at stoplights.

Two smokers outside the entrance of her building stopped him from giving her the kiss that he wanted.

"…Are we ok?" she said, tentative.

"Better than ok. Right?"

She smiled, shy almost, wanting something, but she didn't know what. She nodded. "You're still fine?" She asked.

"I'm still fine. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yes." She walked out of the car, feeling shaken.

"Hey…" he called quietly out of the inch of open window.

She turned.

"Sleep well. I'll uh, be thinking of you." He smiled, warmth in his eyes.

In bed she passed out and slept more deeply than she had for months.

The next day, his phone rang through to voicemail. Twice.

"Things are complicated between us now?" she asked him later, her voice edged with accusation.

He stared at her. He had come looking for her earlier, but found her office empty. He stood gazing at the couch and licked his lips.

He sat down. "I want to do that again, but you're married – and to the governor," he had come by to tell her. He tried to get his words out now without being defensive.

"He accepts it… Well, I accept it. And, you kept me from drinking. If you don't come to me tonight, who knows, maybe I'll start drinking again…"

"Way to make me feel guilty…" he grinned, staring into her eyes – remembering the pleading look in them the night before, the desperation, as she had ground her hips into him.

"You want things simple? I want things simple too," she said. "So here it is. I want you again," she breathed, and jolt of need flashed in his groin. "Don't you want it?"

He leant forwards. "I want it."

"Would you like me to tell you exactly what I want you to do?"

"No. I want you to show me. Your place, 8pm?"

She licked her lips and nodded, leaning back in her chair. He wanted to fuck her right there on the desk.

He walked out and swallowed hard. He looked at his watch. He had three hours to kill.

As his knuckles rapped on the door, his heart thudded in his chest. Nervousness was unfamiliar to him and he didn't know whether he liked it or not.

She opened the door, a soft cream sweater and black pants. He ran his eyes over her. "Hi," he said, voice hoarse.

"Hi. I'd offer you a drink, but…"

He walked up to her, pressed his mouth against hers. Little moans fell from her throat and he ran a hand up her thigh and then between them.

"Is this what you want?" He asked.

"Yes," she sighed, her knees almost buckling.

He wanted to shatter her into pieces, with every tool at his disposal, wanted to drown her in pleasure. He had seen how she'd been looking at him for months – he could see clearly what was being played out behind her eyes, those beautiful, brooding, dark eyes. He had watched her watch him as they'd worked together, her lips always a little parted like an invitation.

Once she had given him permission, he shoved her with his body back against the hallway wall, hard, rough, and urgent. Her mouth fell open in shock and in want as he took her jaw in his right hand and locked his eyes onto hers.

"Goddamn, you're, you're so goddamn sexy," he growled before his lips were hard on hers. He ran his hands up and down her body, wild and hungry.

She moaned into his mouth.

This was not like last time. Last time had been soft – urgent yes, but gentle, light.

There was something almost threatening in his passion, in how he held and grabbed and moved her, and her stomach dropped wanting him, wanting all of him.

He had her out of her pants and his fingers climbed to where she ached for him. Her breath caught and he paused – a questioning look on his face. She pushed her hips against him in encouragement, in affirmation, and he nodded and pulled the lace aside.

With his middle finger he parted her, and stroked up and down in long, soft strokes while his eyes bore into hers and she fought to breathe. He groaned his arousal feeling her grow wet and silken against him as he slid his fingers back and forth – soft and rhythmic and determined.

She gripped his back and her chest reddened beneath the cream cashmere. He watched her and he throbbed for her and he pressed his groin against her thigh as his hand continued to work. The rough denim of his jeans felt coarse against her exposed skin, and the firm bulge at his crotch pressed hard against her soft thigh – too hard, she thought, hard enough to bruise her - but the sensation rippled along with the pleasure that he was laying into her and her head spun as she started to rock against him.

As her breaths grew shallow and her eyes started to roll back he pulled her roughly from the wall and against his body.

"Let's go," he breathed, stern and demanding.

Go where, she thought but the words were a million miles away and he silently walked her backwards into the bedroom. She stumbled to keep pace, and she kept her eyes on his face, unsure, compliant.

Then he stopped.

"Take off your clothes," he said, cool and measured and her face burned as she tried to keep her composure.

His words threw her – her mind raced through different responses – but before she could speak she heard his voice again.

"Do as I told you, Alicia."

This time her hands went to her sweater, knowing nothing except that she wanted him.

He watched her undress – his shameless gaze wanton – and she looked back at him, looked lasciviously over his skin as he threw off his own clothes in response. She swallowed hard.

He grabbed her onto the bed.

He was so assertive, so in control; it spoke to the deepest parts of her and lust made her whole body tremble. Truthfully he felt out of control himself; overwhelmed by how much he wanted her. How many times had he imagined exactly this, he wondered, as they had worked in the home office late together, imagined taking her into her bedroom just feet away from where they sat and fucking her, pleasing her. He had wondered what she would look like when he made her come, what she would sound like, how she would taste…

He lay down beside her.

"Show me how you want to be touched," he said, lifting her hand and placing it between her own thighs.

Again his words stunned her to stillness. He challenged her with his gaze, and repeated, voice dropped to a whisper, "Show me, Alicia."

Wordlessly she obeyed, moving her hand over herself and staring into his face.

He watched, attentive, eyes flickering between her face and her fingers. He nodded, brushing her hand away to replace it with his own. He continued to stare at her, watching her buck and moan in response to him, and the intensity of his gaze made her self-conscious for just a moment but quickly her body took over, disinhibited, as she pressed herself into his working fingers while hers grabbed fistfuls of sheets.

He wanted to make her feel so good that she couldn't see, or breathe, or think; so good that her hands tingled and her stomach clenched.

As he watched a crimson flush creep back over her chest and cheeks he pulled his hand away, and when her eyes peeped open he lined their bodies up and waited for her to approve him, which she did with her hungry hands pulling his hips to hers.

Slowly, so slowly, he began to ease himself into the heat of her.

"Holy fuck," he breathed. He stared at her, enthralled by how she pressed her head back into the pillow as her legs fell apart, limp, and she lay ravenously receiving his thrusts just where she wanted them, unable to move but only to feel and to take. Desperate, starving need paralyzed her, thighs open, wanting, just wanting. He fed her needy body, and they both cursed and groaned and writhed until blistering, agonizing ecstasy claimed their shaking bodies.

After, he lay back, and she curled against him, head on his chest. He took her hand in his, kissed it, and then held onto it.

She thought about how Peter had left her a voicemail the previous day asking her to attend a donor's event with him. She had emailed him a 'no.' "You're a selfish bitch," he had yelled, the last time she had missed such a function because she was in bed and couldn't get out of it.

Jason sensed that her mind was far away, and he wanted her there with him, so he breathed into her ear, "God, that was, mmmm, you're sensational." His words brought her back to her body, and he put his mouth on her neck, teeth nipping on fine skin just hard enough for him to feel sure that he was commanding her attention.

The sensation prickled through her and she felt so wanted. His heavy breaths made her aware that lust was still pulsing through her.

Jason had awakened something inside her, and even while she came down from the heights of a wrenching climax minutes earlier, she was still wanting. She knew he wouldn't yet be ready again, and she flashed him a glance – eyes glinting - that he didn't yet know how to interpret. Then she felt for his hand, and traced the tips of her fingers over his. Her touch felt electric to him, and when she lightly lifted his hand and carried it back to the heat between her thighs, he groaned "Alicia" like a blessing and a curse.

He took his cue and with his hand he worked again at her soft flesh. She moaned her need and her gratitude, hips moving gently against him.

She smiled to herself – pleased that she had taken what she needed. It was a habit she'd gotten from being with Will. If she wanted more, he'd made her learn, he would always give it to her. If he needed more time, there were other ways, she should know, in which he could – he would – feed her appetite. She didn't have to wait. She should demand. She had spent far too much of her life unaware of that fact.

And appetite she had.

"God," Jason breathed, so aroused by her desire. She stared into his face, wondering about him, wondering what he wanted from her, loving the green of his eyes and the soft lines around them. He stared back. He felt impatient to feel her come, as quickly as he could, and so he pushed her to lie flat on her back. Then he placed a hand against the soft part between where her ribs met, pressed hard and flat to hold her still as he put his mouth to her stomach and then lower…

"Jason" she gasped as she felt his control and his skill – he was so quick and firm with his tongue that it gave her shivers, and as her back arched to push herself against him, he suddenly stopped.

"Get up," he said, curt, and it took a moment for the words to filter through her haze of lust and pleasure.

"I... What?" She breathed, dizzy

He knelt up and pulled her brusquely upright. Then he lay back, and as Alicia's eyes narrowed in confusion, she heard his voice.

"Sit on my face," he said, voice low and commanding

Her eyes widened and her groin clenched. He licked his lips and as she started to move to him, he pulled her impatiently into position, putting his hands on her hips to press her down onto his open mouth.

"Fuck" she cried out, as the hot strokes of his tongue blazed against her. He looked up at her – taking in her beautiful body, her eyes jammed shut and her mouth open in silenced ecstasy. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the headboard.

She pulled her hips a little away from him to lessen the intensity, but he locked his arms over her thighs, preventing her from mitigating the rush of sensation. He was in control, he let her know, with the fast, firm lashes of his tongue that made her whole body quake and tremor.

He held her still and relentlessly fed, fed, fed; stoking a burning fire between her thighs, and when he heard her start fighting for her breath and when her body started violently to shake over him, he pushed only harder with his mouth against her, until she cried out, "Oh my god, oh my god," and as her whole frame tensed rigid, he closed his eyes to bask in the pleasure of her deep and breathless climax.

As she came down, he still locked her in place with his arms. He eased off with his tongue, knowing she'd be sensitive to the touch. But he couldn't resist sucking her into his mouth. She yelped and twitched, and fuck, he was ready again.

He released his hold on her thighs and flipped her onto her back, pausing just long enough to seek permission in her gratified face, before slamming his length hard and deep into the drenched welcome of her.

His temples pulsed as he fucked her desperately, his hands grabbing blindly and roughly at whatever parts of her they could get a grip on.

She met his thrusts and he drew in a breath, sharp, nearing the edge and surrendering to his own powerlessness as his body bucked into hers almost out of his own control. The speed and depth made her lightheaded and he grabbed one of her arms with each of his hands and pinned them above her head and pumped into her with all he had and it was her low and pleasured moans that took him over the edge and smashed him into pieces as he held her down beneath him.

"God, you're something else," he breathed into her damp neck.

She smiled, spent, now, and so deeply satisfied.

"Are you still fine?" she grinned.