Title: Leo Has an Itch Private Times 4/?
By: chipmunk
Pairing: Leo/Margaret
Rating: YTEEN (See chart below)
Beta and
Disclaimer:
Without Prejudice, the names of all characters* contained here-in are the
property of NBC, WB, Bravo, A John Wells Prod., from TV show, The West Wing.
They are the creation of Aaron Sorkin. No infringement of these or any copyrights is intended, and are used here without permission.
No monetary benefit is received or anticipated.They own them; therefore, they do not belong to me. I only borrowed them , with my humble thanks to them. *Any Original Characters developed by me and found in this or any of my fics, belongs solely to me.Acknowledgement: A 'grateful' and 'enormous' thanks, to the actors and actresses,
who portray these characters 'brilliantly' and bring them to life in my head. Feedback: I’d love it hear your opinion! PLEASE!
It helps to improve my writing!
Archived at:
http://www.geocities.com/chipmunkswhimseys/Daylight-LeoCookingMain.html
Summary: Leo itches and Margaret helps.
Note: CURSE WARNING: Leo’s having a bad day and is cursing his way through it.
~ For his wonderful
gift to us of Leo, I humbly dedicate this fic to John Spencer. ~
*****
Leo’s up early, as usual, and he checks the news and weather first thing. The news is the same old crap in DC, but he talks back to the commentator anyway. The weather comes on, “Even the weather is the same crap every day this summer. Hot and humid. Who in their right mind decided to build the nations capitol on drained swampland,” he asks the meteorologist on the screen.
He gets dressed in a clean t-shirt just back from the hotel laundry. “Ah, Hell,” he complains loudly. “They used that damn industrial bleach again. I can smell it. Those asses! I told them not to. It bothers me.” Accepting his first problem of the day, “I’ll have to go ahead and wear it and it better not drive me crazy this time.”
He grumbles, as he continues to get the rest of his outer clothes on and flips his suspenders up on to his shoulders.
He puts it out of his head and promptly leaves for the office.
Leo strides into Margaret’s office and she’s already at her computer printing out his schedule for the day. He drops a kiss on the top of her head, as he pauses on his way into his office. “Morning, Margaret.” He then complains to her, “Can you believe that it’s hot and sticky outside already? Damn, when’s this heat gonna break?”
“Well, one of us is in a cheery mood this morning,” Margaret greets him back. “I’d guess you haven’t had your coffee.” He leans his head to the side and gives her a guilty look that confirms her suspicion. She now stands and helpfully adds, “I think I’ll just pop over to the coffee machine and grab some for you, before I even hand you your schedule.” He rolls his eyes to the ceiling at her subtle hint of the day to come.
Leo halts his progress at his doorway with her welcoming comments. “Sorry, Margaret. The coffee would be nice. Thank you.” He enters his office and is trying to decide if it’s too early in the day to remove his jacket. He decides to wait until after the staff meeting with the President.
****
Leo’s standing with the President waiting for the Senior Staff to arrive and as they enter, the President invites them all to sit. Leo first leans back and then tries leaning forward, having trouble setting down for the start of the meeting.
During the meeting, Leo shrugs his shoulders and flicks his arm out a time or two, as if he’s trying to adjust his cuff. He’s not really paying attention to the fact that he’s doing these movements.
After the meeting the President asks, “Leo, is there a problem that you need to tell me about? I noticed you seem a little nervous this morning.”
“No, Sir. I’m just a little twitchy from the heat, I guess.” Leo gives him a plausible explanation, “Everyone’s tired of it and a little on edge.” He smiles, “ I’ll try not to ‘twitch’ around you today, Sir.” Leo answers his friend in a slightly sarcastic tone.
The President smiles back at his best friend and orders Leo in the same banter, “Well, see that you don’t. I don’t allow that in ‘my’ White House.”
“Sir, before I leave.” Leo pauses, feeling brave, “I’d just like to point out that it’s not ‘your’ White House. It really belongs to all of the citizens of this country.” Leo’s grinning at him, for that ‘dig’ first thing this morning.
From the file the President is already reading, he glances up a glare to his friend, noting the dig in Leo’s favor, “Go, Leo. I’m sure you have better things to do than torment me, in this heat,” the President dismisses him with a wave toward Leo’s office door.
“Thank you, Mr. President,” Leo smirks on his way out.
The President looks at him with a small smile and happily reflects that on many different occasions, Leo can get ‘so much’ communicated to him, with just that short sentence and he knows his best friend uses it to his own advantage.
****
Leo reaches his desk and promptly removes his jacket, rolling his shirt cuffs to half-mast on his forearms. He’s starting to have doubts about his t-shirt and his good mood in the Oval office wears off quickly. “Margaret,” he bellows and then snaps, “I need the files for my first meeting and when is the senator due here?”
“Here’s the file, Leo, and Senator Gray is expected here in 30 minutes, according to the schedule,” she informs him with an innocent look.
He gives her an irritated look that shows he’s not appreciating her unspoken way of pointing out that the schedule ‘was’ handed to him earlier. “I just ‘love’ meeting with Republicans that have so little brains that I wonder how they got elected.”
He flips the file folder open with undue force and continues his tirade to himself, as much as to Margaret. “Especially this one! The Republican party must have been desperate to back him as a candidate.” Leo is really in a ‘bitch and moan’ mood today.
“I’ll just refill your coffee, Leo.” Margaret adds, being helpful again on her way out the door. “Maybe some ice water will help to cool you down, in this heat,” giving him a broad hint.
He just growls at her chipper attitude at his ‘undisclosed’ discomfort and mood. He shifts his shoulders to test his growing suspicion that his problem is not just the heat. He decides to ignore it and sits to review the file.
He meets with the expected Senator and afterwards decides to speak immediately with Josh about a new detail. He scowls as he dons his jacket that he feels he needs to wear to walk the halls to Josh’s office. He sighs with irritation when he settles his jacket firmly on his shoulders with a tug on the lapels.
****
Leo finds Donna at her desk and he stops there first. “Hey, Donna. Is Josh here? I need to speak with him,” Leo asks briskly. He slides a hand up under his jacket and adjusts a suspender strap. He pulls his hand out to then adjust his tie, sliding his hand down the length of it, making sure it’s laying straight down inside his buttoned jacket.
“Josh is on the phone, Leo, but he should be off shortly,” Donna quickly assures Leo, after seeing the grim look on his face.
Even though Donna is more casual with Leo away from the White House, the foursome is always professional, but friendly, as usual at work. It just strikes her odd that Leo would adjust his clothing outside his office. She knows he strives to reflect the total package of being collected, proper and in charge, to the staff of the west wing. Donna knows that he has the reputation of being the ‘dapper’ Leo.
“Anything I can get you while you wait, Leo?” Donna notices that he’s shifting from foot to foot, with his hands jammed into his pants pockets, under his still buttoned jacket.
“Nah, I’m fine.” Leo replies with a short response, as he looks around the bullpen at the blatantly busy staff, not really paying attention to the answer he gives to Donna. This doesn’t bode well for the staff today.
The light on Donna’s phone flicks off. “Leo, he’s off the line now,” Donna’s informs him, a little thankful that she doesn’t have to keep Leo occupied any longer, in his grumpy mood.
Leo steps to Josh’s office door and raps it smartly with his knuckles. He barely waits for a response from inside, as he enters. He flips the door closed behind him and immediately starts tearing into Josh, “What’d think that dumbass, Republican Senator wanted to add to the Economics budget?”
“Gee, Leo. Which dumbass Republican Senator would that be, this time,” Josh asks, not quite sure if he’s really being asked or if he’s going to be blamed in some way.
“Senator Gray, that’s who!” Leo looks at Josh like somehow he should know that. Leo now leans his weight on both of his fists, on Josh’s desktop, “He had the audacity to tell ‘me’, mind you. No, he demanded that we ‘have’ to include, a section with the provisions for PR relations for the IRS!” Leo pushes off the desk and drops his arms, with palms out, and states, “The mans a total moron.”
Josh grins at Leo’s agitated state, “Like that’s going to happen, Leo. Talk about a total waste of money on that cause.” Josh states the oblivious and agrees with Leo, “No one going to like the IRS, no matter how much PR money it has.”
Leo nods his head once in mutual agreement, “That’s what I tried to explain to him, in really small words.” He pauses slightly, reflecting quickly on his recent meeting. “Dumbass!” The whole time that he’s been in Josh’s office, Leo is unbuttoning and buttoning his jacket, wiggling his shoulders.
Josh can’t stand watching Leo pace the floor and acting nervous any longer. In exasperation he demands, “What is wrong with you, Leo? You’re acting like a cat on a hot tin roof. Is there a problem?” Josh asks, as he watches Leo’s face in real concern, as Leo stops pacing and sighs.
“Really, it’s nothing, Josh. I have an itch,” Leo calmly confesses, trying to play down any personal problem.
“An itch, Leo,” Josh asks, now with a smirk and a grin. Josh then suggests, “Maybe you should take a long lunch today? Like at Margaret‘s apartment.”
“Josh, what’s your point?” Leo is losing what little patience he has today.
Josh just shrugs, “I just didn’t think the two of you were advancing your relationship along that fast, Leo.”
“NOT that kind of itch, Joshua,” Leo gives him a sharp glare.
Josh just grins at him, not intimidated at all, by the full use of his name by Leo.
“Ah, Leo. Josh knows he has the perfect dig at Leo, “I don’t think Donna quite heard all of that, out at her desk.” His dimples are showing now, at his joy in Leo’s scowling face. “Could you be a little louder for her benefit? She so loves to exchange good gossip at the water cooler, with the rest of the Sisterhood.”
Leo huffs out his held breath. He knows Josh is right, about keeping some information from the water cooler.
Leo wags his head back and forth, and then he grudgingly admits to Josh. “My damn t-shirt reeks of bleach….” Leo grumbles out in a lower voice, “and it’s irritating the hell outta me, in this heat.”
“Man, Leo. You’re gonna be a real piece of work by evening. If it has you snapping at people, already today.” Josh is just glad it’s something commonplace and not a serious problem, after all that Leo has been through.
“Probably,” Leo agrees. “Keep it to yourself or I’ll make sure to take my mood out on you today.” Leo warns in slight embarrassment. “Deal?”
“Sure. Deal, Leo.” Josh can’t resist, “Just don’t get hot under the collar.”
“Funny, Josh.” Leo’s not angry with Josh for the good-natured fun at his expense. Josh gets away with a little more than most of the staff in that regard, due to his close friendship to Leo.
Leo turns to the door, “I’m outta here then. If you need to see me, I’ll be holed up in my office.” Leo feels better about the meeting, now that he’s blown off some steam with Josh. He reminds Josh, “Don’t forget to let me know what happens with your meeting on the Hill this afternoon.”
“Sure, Leo.” Josh is still smiling at the grumpy Leo, since he’s not at the receiving end of it. “I’ll do that and I’ll check on Margaret then, too.” He continues to tease Leo. “She may need a lawyer to bail her out, after she snaps and pounds you, while I’m on the hill.”
Leo finally breaks a smile at that. “She probably will at that,” he admits in agreement. “I’ll try to stay holed up in my office, to keep down the body count.”
“Good idea, Leo.” Josh recommends in a lower voice, before Leo opens the door, “Be sure to take care of that itch today.” Josh doesn’t make it sound like the one caused by Leo’s shirt.
Leo hears what Josh is really hinting at and replies sadly, “Like that’s gonna happen either today.”
****
Leo returns to his office, not in a friendly mood with those that he passes on the way. He barely notes that Margaret is not at her desk, as he strides through into his. Leo immediately removes his jacket and the itching on his back is getting worse. To try and ease the itching, he rubs back and forth on the edges of the closet door casing to scratch.
Margaret enters, after returning from the copier and laughs at Leo. “What’s cha doing, Ballou,” she can’t resist asking.
“Margaret,” he growls at her laughter. “My back is driving me crazy and who the hell is Ballou,” Leo asks, his grouchy attitude not improving much.
“Leo, Ballou is a Disney cartoon bear in the movie ‘Jungle Book’, who’s always rubbing his back on trees and other things, to cure his itching back”. She cheerfully explains, since she thinks Leo looks cute scratching that way. “I’ll take a wild guess here, Leo, and assume you have the same problem.” She also assumes that it must be serious for Leo to be distracted by it. “Is there anything I can do to help? I could scratch your back for you,” she suggests.
Leo gives up on scratching and moves back to his desk, “That might not help and the door casing didn’t either.” He sighs and mutters, “I must be rubbing it ‘in’ more.”
“Rubbing what ‘in’ more, Leo?” Margaret is just trying to understand his problem, in order to help.
Leo knows he can reveal the truth of his irritation to her, “The bleach in my t-shirt that the morons at the hotel used on my whites.”
Margaret replies with sympathy and disappointment. “Oh, Leo, you were going to wash them at my place.”
He looks like a kid confessing, “I was out of clean t-shirts, and I had the hotel wash them for me.” Leo grudgingly admits he was wrong in a low voice, “I know and now I’m really sorry. I forgot that they always use that strong bleach with the whites. I should have kept to our deal and washed them at your place.”
Margaret is thinking on a solution for him, but pauses, looking him up and down. “A more important question, Leo, which I just have to ask, is: Are you wearing anything else that’s white, under your suit,” she boldly asks with a knowing look.
“No, luckily,” he snaps back. Then he relents and lowers his voice, leaning toward her, “My socks and boxers are dark colored.”
He now tries to disregard his dilemma, “I’ll just trying to ignore it, Margaret, and stay hidden in my office, as much as I can today. That should help with the damage control, with the damn mood I’m in today.” The last part is spoken like a fair warning to her.
“You sure, Leo?” She keeps pushing for a solution and tosses out an option, “You could go to the hotel and change.”
“No, I can’t. I’m sure that I don’t have any others to change into. I just scooped up the whole bunch to send and they bleached them all.” He’s getting upset now and doesn’t want to discuss it anymore, but she’ll not let it go. “I’ll have to rewash all my whites,” he states.
Trying to end this and get back to work, Leo has the final word, “Let’s just see how it goes. OK? Go have lunch, now,” he practically orders Margaret, in order for her to let him work in peace.
“Leo, I could go buy you some new t-shirts,” is her next helpful suggestion.
“That won’t work either. They come starched, Margaret, which is almost as bad as the bleach.” Leo growls to himself, “This is gonna be a thing with you today? It’s not helping, Margaret. Go. Get outta here.”
She still doesn’t move, just looks at him knowing that he’s still itching.
Leo smiles falsely and takes her by the elbow to escort her to the door. “Have lunch with that dangerous bunch you call the Sisterhood,” is his last suggestion, as he guides her through the door and shuts it.
Margaret talks to him through the closed door, “I’m going, Leo, but I’ll think of something.” She’s just reassuring him that help will be coming at a later time. She’s his Margaret.
****
Margaret is sitting with the other assistants. Munching on her salad. She’s thinking of a way to help Leo and not really paying attention to the conversation around her.
Donna asks, bringing Margaret back to the group, “Hey, Margaret. What’s with Leo, today?” She and the others have noticed that Margaret is not adding to their lunchtime support group, which keeps them ahead of their bosses.
Ginger pipes in her opinion, “He’s in such a bad mood this morning, Margaret. Has he taken your head off this morning? You’re not this quiet at lunch.”
“No, he’s OK. Leo just has an itch,” she calmly answers, not realizing how it sounds, after her distracted attitude.
“OHHH, Leo has an itch, does he?” Bonnie can’t resist teasing Margaret.
Ginger looks around at the other females and back to Margaret, like something is not right in this conversation. Ginger wants to find the flaw. “You’re just sitting here calmly having lunch with us?”
Margaret nods her head and looks questionably around at them.
Ginger decides to ask a few questions, with a sly smile, “Are you crazy, and are you going to relieve Leo of that itch anytime soon?”
Donna can’t resist keeping out of the fun at this point and clarifies what they really want to know, “You know… privately… scratch it for him.” She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively to the others.
“NOT that kind of itch!” Margaret looks shocked at her friends and then adds upon reflection, ”But that might not be a bad idea to contemplate.” She sighs and gives a simple explanation, “I just gotta get his t-shirt off him.”
“OHHHHH, that sounds like an interesting problem, too!” Bonnie teases her again and starts the whole bunch laughing.
Margaret tries to finish telling them why, “It’s itching him,” she pauses and then gives into the teasing, “and yes it does sound interesting,” she grins back at the other assistants.
****
Margaret returns from lunch and glances into Leo’s office, to see him hunkered over his desk with great determination, reading the file in front of him. He’s grumbling to himself, while he reads.
Margaret can tell he’s not getting any happier and to be honest about it, he’s progressively getting grumpier. He’s too stubborn to go the hotel and see if there is an old one left to change into and he insists that a brand new one would be just as bad.
Margaret finally has had it with him being a martyr and practically orders him, “Leo, in this heat, just go down to the locker room and take off the damn t-shirt and see if that helps.”
He gives her a glare for interrupting him, since he’s having enough trouble just concentrating as it is, “I can’t take it off, Margaret. I don’t have another one here with my spare clothes to put on. I looked already,” he points out the obvious.
“Leo,” Margaret now has that tone of, ‘you’re being difficult and I’m not having any more of it.’ She points out some common sense to him, “Take it off and don’t wear any t-shirt at all. No one will know that you don’t have on a t-shirt on under your dress shirt and it might help.”
Margaret then tries to sway him with, “The younger guys aren’t wearing t-shirts underneath their dress shirts, in this heat.”
Leo looks at her and demands, “How would you know what they have on under their shirts, Margaret?” He asks with at scowl.
Margaret grins at him, “Well, Mr. Green Eyes, what do you think the Sisterhood talks about at lunch? Bills, amendments, proposals, or other political policies.”
Leo grumbles, “Well, you did leave me out of the younger men category.” He sounds injured.
Margaret softens at his hurt look, “My poor, Leo. He’s having a bad day and I have to remind him he’s a maturing male.” She adds softly, “That’s all mine.”
Leo grudgingly agrees to her suggestion and lets her know with he’s not happy about it, “Ok, I’ll go take off the damn t-shirt.” Then under his breath he adds, “If you really think it’d help.” There’s nothing like an unhappy male that has to give in and take someone else’s advice.
Margaret tries to add a bright note to cheer him, “Good and while your down there, stop by the Mess to grab yourself something to bring back here and eat.”
She lowers her voice, like she doesn’t want to be over heard. “I think the staff is avoiding you today.”
Leo is beginning to feel that she may be right, “OK, I’ll be right back.” He then is sarcastic. “While I’m in the Mess, I’ll try to smile at the other staff.”
“Leo, don’t over do the smiling.” Margaret decides to tease him and see if she can help his mood, “They’ll have Ron Butterfield up here, checking to see if you have murdered me and stuffed me in the closet.” She points over to the offending closet for emphasis and tries to look serious at him, “He won’t be happy with you, Leo, either way.”
Leo gives her another sarcastic reply. “I promise that I’ll try not to scare the staff, Margaret, while I’m gone.” He glances a scowl at the closet and back to her, “I don’t want Butterfield up here with you, when I’m gone, anyway. I still haven’t got that damn little bug out of my head, yet.”
Margaret knows what he’s referring to and tears him, “Fine, Leo, just don’t mention your ‘bug’ in front of Carol.” She confides why, “She has Ron ‘staked out’ at the moment and I’m not going to explain your ‘green eyes’ to her.” She looks pointedly and straight into his eyes, “You can! And quit damning everything.”
Leo shoves his hands in his pockets and refuses to comment on her last order and redirects by asking, “Why is it the Sisterhood never bashes Ron or the agents, like they freely do to any of the rest of the males in the White House, as they feel appropriate.” Leo complains, as his moodiness is still evident.
Margaret softly replies, “They’re our heroes, Leo,” To get him moving out the door, she holds his jacket for him, while he rolls his sleeves down.
He grumbles at that remark about the Sisterhood, “Why’s that? They’re paid well to do their job, you know?” He states the ridiculous, “They don’t go around wearing red capes.” He turns to face her, as he buttons his jacket.
“Leo, they’re our heroes.” Margaret says again and softly and continues to explain the obvious, as she straightens the knot of his tie just a touch. “Because they keep you and the rest of the Senior Staff safe for us.”
After a pause and watching the expressions on his face, Margaret can see Leo does understand why. She continues on to help calm more with his ‘green eyes’, “Anyway, Leo, what you sacrifice for this administration is brave enough for me. You’re ‘my’ hero, Leo, right here and now.” She leans in to kiss him gently.
“Thank you, Margaret.” He shifts his eyes around and gives a backhanded apology, “I’m just in a pissy mood today.”
She smiles and scores one for the Sisterhood, “That’s just a small taste of PMS for you, Leo. We deal with it every month.”
“Thanks a lot,” he growls unhappily at the comparison.
“Well, get outta here and get that ‘damn’ shirt off.” Margaret emphasizes the ‘damn’ part to remind him how often he’s used it today and points him to the door this time. “See you in a little bit, Leo.”
****
Leo gets in the men’s locker room and strips quickly to the waist. With great satisfaction, he slams the offending t-shirt in the trashcan. He then backs up to look in the mirror. He notices a slight redness to his back and partway down his arms, the area the t-shirt covered. He redresses again and is relieved at the coolness with only one layer of shirt and not two.
With a last glance in the mirror to check that his neat appearance is once more intact, he leaves the locker room to make a quick and uneventful pass though in the Mess. Nodding politely to the Senior Staff that is there, but not engaging them in conversation.
Josh is coming into the mess, as Leo is going out. “Hey, Leo. Are you still ‘kicking ass and taking names’?” Josh is smiling big at referring to Leo’s bad day.
Leo stops and warns him, “Yeah, Josh, and your next, if you keep asking me stupid questions like that.”
“Good to see you haven’t lost your sweet personality today, Leo.” Josh teases, but keeps walking out of Leo’s reach, not wanting a swat to the back of his head.
Leo still just wants to hole up in his office, till the itching gets better.
****
Leo enters his office from the main hall door. “Margaret, I’m back,” he announces.
Margaret comes to the connecting office door and asks, “Any better yet? Can I get you anything?”
“It might be some better.” Leo concedes and places the Styrofoam tray on his desk, “At least it’s not any worse, and without the t-shirt, I’m at least cooler.”
Margaret smiles that he’s sorta admitting that she was right, about him feeling better without the t-shirt. “Does it still itch terribly? Need me to scratch, now that the bleach from the t-shirt is off your skin?” Adding logically, “It should evaporate now, without the t-shirt holding it onto your skin.”
Leo has removed his coat again, due to the heat. He’s really worn out with the whole ordeal and gives into Margaret helping him. He really had no hope of keeping her from it in the first place, “That would be nice, Margaret.” He now bosses at her helping him, “Be easy with those nails of yours. My back looked a little red in the mirror.”
Margaret rolls her eyes, behind Leo’s back. “Sit, Leo,” she orders, as she moves around behind his desk chair.
“Gladly,” is his one relieved response, as he sits and leans forward, resting his forearms on his desk and hangs his head.
Margaret adds some nonsense, before starting to scratch, “Do take note, Leo, that this is ‘not’ in my job description.”
“Duly noted,” Leo answers to the desktop. He gets impatient at Margaret’s hesitation, “Now scratch, please.” She complies and smiles at the moaning and shifting he’s doing, as she lightly scratches his back, through his shirt.
Leo is in heaven at the relief from the itching, “Oh God, that’s wonderful, Margaret. Be easy! Be easy!”
The door to the Oval Office pops open and the President walks in to find Leo moaning over his desk. The President tries to sound shocked and appalled, “What are you two doing in here? Sounds to me like you two need to get a room, Leo.”
Leo knows what his friend is doing, “Funny, Mr. President.” Leo rises to his feet in the presence of the President.
Margaret is standing behind Leo, blushing a full bright red. She had jumped back, when the President first addressed them.
The President stops right in front of Leo’s desk and seriously look him in the face, like he’s puffed up mad, but he soon blows out his breath, grins and remarks, “She still blushes nicely, Leo.”
Leo was right! The President is grinning over Leo’s shoulder at Margaret.
Leo returns his friend a smile of conspiracy, “Yeah, I think so too, Sir. Making her blush is a real personal perk for you.” Leo nods his head to the side and adds in a mock whisper, as he leans forward, “For me it’s an ongoing challenge.”
They just exchange boyish grins of past adventures together.
Margaret hisses at Leo’s back, “You two make it sound like a competition.” She dares not look the President in the face.
Leo still just grins at his friend. His eyes admitting that she figured them out, light years ago.
“So, Leo.” The President points a finger at the desk, “Is this how ‘she’ keeps you in line, here at the White House? Is this back scratching, in anyway, a payback for all the back rubbing you did, when her back was acting up?” He’s trying to get back at Leo for the, ‘My White House’, dig this morning.
“No, Sir.” Leo seriously reminds him, “The back rubbing is purely enjoyment, except for when you ordered me to, as a punishment. Thank you, again, Sir.” He grins and doesn’t dare look at Margaret behind him. He wants to live longer. He pauses with a knowing grin at his friend.
Then Leo seriously confesses, “The truth is, Sir, I have an itch.”
The President leans forward and in a mock whisper to Leo. “Ah, Leo. You’ve not been ‘that slow’ with the females in your lifetime, but that’s not the way to fix it, when you have an itch.”
Margaret loudly catches a breath in shock and wants to die right there, or better yet, melt instantly into the floor. She may need ice later, to get her blazing blush under control.
Leo leans closer to his friend, almost nose to nose, “NOT that kind of itch, Sir.” He feels obligated to explain, “There was bleach in my t-shirt and you ‘know’ that just drives me crazy with itching.”
Leo quickly explains what he did to fix the problem, “I’ve trashed the t-shirt already, and Margaret was scratching my back, in hopes of relieving the itching.”
Leo growls under his breath, still a little moody at the total day, “Sir, you put a nice stop to that, my friend.”
Leo looks around at Margaret, noting her bright red face. He agrees now with his best friend, “Bingo, Sir. That’s the reddest blush I’ve seen on her yet.”
Decorum dictates to Margaret that she will not cover up her face in embarrassment, in the presence of the President.
The President just beams with happiness at her blushing.
Leo concedes, “I’ll give you this, Mr. President. You may have just found her ultimate blush, with that last comment, about relieving an itch.”
Leo looks back at his friend’s smiling face, and now he adds a special bonus to his friend’s joy, “The best part of that is, Sir. After you leave, Margaret gonna kill me!” He then points to the President’s chest, “Since she can’t kill you.”
At the President’s pleased look, Leo tries to look serious and places his hand over his heart, “I will try, in my defense, Sir, to remind her to keep a list. Someday you ‘will’ be out of office and she can get in line to pummel your ass.” Leo grins sweetly, “Right behind Abbey and myself.”
The President adds to his fun and pretends to plan for that day. “I think I better hire Ron Butterfield, after I leave office, to guard me against the three of you.”
“Not, Agent Butterfield, Sir!” Leo is adamant, “I’ll ‘out pay’ your offer, for him to refuse the job with you.”
With the two of them talking like she’s not in the room. Margaret can’t help it and she snickers at Leo’s comment. First, she’s mortified with them and now she’s trying not to laugh. They’re going to be the death of her yet. She knows Leo’s not going to let Ron retire anywhere near where she might be. It’s going to be an interesting time after the administration.
Margaret decides she needs to retreat and excuses herself, “Sir. Leo. I’ll just go into my office and leave you two to talk.”
The President grants her retreat with, “Thanks, Margaret, you made my day, again!”
“I service at the pleasure of the President, Sir,” she replies back, as a backhanded dig at the both of them.
The President folds his arms in front of him and watches Margaret cross to the door. He tilts his head toward Leo and whispers, “I’ll bet she ‘is’ making a list.”
Leo leans forward on his desk and watches, as Margaret closes the door after herself, “Yeah, one list for you, and one list for me.” He then smiles and turns to look at his friend, “Want to bet which one of us she goes for first?”
The President answers seriously, “Well, that would be you, Leo. I’ll be busy keeping Abbey from killing me first.” He then grins back at Leo, with his hands now jammed into his pants pockets, “I’ll just bet Abbey also has a list for you.”
Leo doesn’t even need to look at his friend’s face to see his reaction. “We’re so dead when this is over, Sir.”
The President nods, “I hear you, Leo.”
The President switching to happier thoughts, “So, what did you bring back for your lunch? Anything good that Abbey won’t let me have?” He then warns Leo, “ I’ll steal it from you, if you did.”
Leo opens the food tray and admits, “I’ve got some fries and ketchup, to go with my burger.” He sees his friend’s face light up, “I guess I just lost them.”
His friend snags a fry and orders, “Let’s eat, Leo. Before someone finds out and rats me out to Abbey.”
****
Later in the evening, Margaret brings up to Leo the dilemma of the bleach in his white clothes. It doesn’t look like he’s going to get out of the White House early enough to come over to her place and rewash them.
“Leo, I’m glad that your itching is going away without the t-shirt, but what are you going to do about tomorrow.” She can tell he’s thinking and she waits shortly, before reminding him, “You know we’re going to be here late tonight.”
Leo has a plan, “How about this, Margaret? I’m going to be in the Oval Office till late with the President, while he makes the phone call to the foreign embassy. If you would be nice, even though I’ve been terrible all day, and do me a favor?” He pauses before asking, not knowing how she’ll view his request. “Why don’t you leave early tonight, swing by my room and grab my whites.” Holding up a hand, he quickly continues, before she can say no, “Take them to your place, rewash them and I’ll come over after I get out of here, to pick them up.”
Leo can see that Margaret is already skeptical about agreeing to his plan, before he even gets it totally said. “I know, Margaret, I’ll owe you a big favor in return. Just think about how you’ll derive great satisfaction in making me pay you back. Is it a deal?”
She’s good! Margaret waits for him to sweeten the deal.
Leo knows just what to add, “You might even have time to make a trip to the hot tub tonight!”
Margaret answers his request with a question, “Want me to wait for you, Leo, so you can go with me to the hot tub?”
Leo gets a sad look, “No, unfortunately, I don’t think the President will let me out ‘that’ early.” He kisses her quickly, since she’s not mad at him for his bad day.
“You just enjoy the evening relaxing
and I’ll see you later, probably between eleven and
Margaret gets serious at that suggestion, “Leo, you let me know when you’re there, even if I’m asleep. I might just have a heart attack hearing someone just ‘come and go’ in the apartment.” She tells him in no uncertain terms, “If I’m asleep, just whisper to me that it’s you. Promise me, Leo?” She looks him in the eye to show how serious she is about it, “That’s a rule. I mean it!”
“Ok, Baby.
“Deal, Leo.” Margaret happily compromises, “I’ll go get your things at the hotel and see you later.” She kisses him goodbye, in a way that’s to hold them till later.
“Thanks, Margaret.” Leo knows he’s so lucky to have her to help him, “ Enjoy your evening.” He adds, before she leaves her office,” Hey, here’s an idea! Maybe Donna will come over and join you in the hot tub?” He waves his index finger back and worth in midair, “You two can bash us guys for a pastime.” He teases her, glad to be back in her good graces.
“We don’t always bash you guys, Leo.” Margaret smiles sweetly, “Some times we say nice things and plans things for all of us to do together.”
Leo laughingly comments at that, “That makes me feel safe. See ya later. Luv you.” He can’t resist and pulls her back inside his office to kiss her deeply.
Margaret comes up for air, “Love you, Leo.” She still adds, as she’s leaving his arms, “Wake me, if I’m asleep.”
“I will,” Leo has his right hand up to promise her.
****
Margaret has a pleasant evening with Donna over to join her. They enjoyed a quick dinner at the deli and the hot tub was wonderful, as usual.
She has no trouble getting Leo’s whites rewashed and is lovingly folding them for him to take back to the hotel with him. She’s sad every time she thinks of him in that sterile environment of the hotel. Margaret just cannot figure out how to get him out of it.
There is a couple of reasons she can’t offer him the spare room or of totally moving in together. They’re not that far along in their relationship. She’s still fearful of the ramifications. She is still slightly insecure and a little in awe of Leo being interested in her, after she discovered she had feelings for him. She’s too happy to risk their blooming relationship.
Granted the Press has not be breathing down their necks, even when Leo stays the night, but moving in might be too much for them. It sure would make her happy, if he was close by.
Anything to get him moved out of that ‘damn’ hotel. Wonder how long of a campaign it would take to get him convinced to leave it. Maybe she needs to bounce this problem off Abbey first.
At
“Leo, it’s late or make that early,” Margaret replies to his whispering her name. She had woken and checked the clock, when she heard the front door shut. (It’s a female thing.) “Did you have trouble with the call?”
Leo admits, “A little. They had some things to work out and we had to counter offer. The usual give and take.” He jingles his keys in his pocket, not really in a hurry to leave, but he knows they both only have three or four hours, before they start all over again at the White House. “I better get going, Margaret. I’ll need to be in the office early in the morning.”
Margaret remembers another night, when he was in her bedroom in the wee hours of the morning. “Leo, take your suit off and get in bed. You can sleep here for the rest of the night,” she offers, knowing he’ll sleep better here.
“OK, thanks,” he complies readily at her suggestion. He was dreading the drive to the hotel and a lonely bed waiting for him. It’s been a rough day and he’s feeling a little sorry for himself. He climbs in next to Margaret and pulls her close to cuddle. He’s a little punchy with exhaustion, “You gonna take care of my itch now?”
Margaret’s comfortable and drifting back to sleep in his arms, “I scratched your back at work, Leo.”
“Not that kind of itch, Baby,” he whispers in her ear.
“Forget it, Leo,” she flatly answers.
“Damn,” he chuckles.
The End
p.s. till the next adventure
~ In memory of John Spencer ~
~
Thanks for the hugs, John! ~
Betty Lou Riley
Rating System!
CHILD - suitable for all ages
YTEEN (younger teens) - some content may not be suitable for children
TEEN - suitable for teens and above
MATURE - suitable for mature readers
ADULT
- adults only
P — Profanity
SC — Sexual Content
V — Violence
GV — Graphic Violence
GS - Graphic Sexual Content