*~*~*~*

“Margaret?” Leo bellowed for the third time.

There was nothing but the gentle hum of noise from the bullpen.

Sighing, he rose to his feet and wandered into the empty office. The blank computer screen stared back at him and his daily planner was still closed on her desk. It was clear she wasn’t in yet and he was certain hadn’t been a phone call to say she was sick. His stomach tightened in concern.

He was just about to call her at home when Ginger knocked on the door.

“Leo?”

“Ginger, have you heard from Margaret?”

She took a step closer. “The switchboard transferred the call to my desk when Margaret hadn’t opened the office. I have a Doctor Montgomery from Georgetown Memorial on the phone, asking for you.”

He looked at her blankly.

“He were sure it was you he needed to talk to. I transferred it to your desk,” she said, giving him a small smile.

Leo walked back into his office and leaned over his desk. “Leo McGarry.”

“Mr. McGarry, my name is Doctor Montgomery. I have a patient by the name of Margaret. . .”

“Is she okay?” Leo asked, his voice betraying the slightest feeling of panic.

There was a long pause before the doctor took a deep breath. “Can you come down here? I’d like to talk to you in person.”

He nodded, then realizing that the doctor couldn’t see him, he managed to mumble yes. The phone dropped into its cradle and he was moving towards the door before he even noticed Ginger standing in the doorway. “Margaret’s in the hospital.”

Ginger gave him a concerned look before picking up the phone on Margaret’s desk and ordering a service car. Leo looked bewildered and she knew Margaret would kill her if she let Leo drive like that. She turned back to face him, “The car’s waiting at the North West entrance.”

He barely glanced in her direction as he walked down the corridor.

Leo arrived at the hospital twenty minutes later, a hundred scenarios going through his head at what could have possibly happened, and none of them good.

The Emergency room was packed, doctors and nurses flittering between cubicles, as Leo approached the nurses station and introduced himself.

The nurse indicated the waiting room and he propped himself up against a pillar. After five minutes he debated whether to go and search the cubicles for himself, but Margaret’s voice in his head asked him if he was crazy so he stayed put. He shifted position and settled back to wait.

It was another fifteen minutes before anyone spoke to him and he shook off the daze and looked up. “Dr. Montgomery?”

“Yes, and you must be Mr. McGarry.”

“Leo, please.”

“Leo, let’s go outside and talk,” he gave a reassuring smile and guided Leo to the ambulance bay. “Okay, Margaret was admitted at five this morning. She had a head wound and was a little dazed and disorientated.”

“Thank God she’s all right,” Leo sighed.

“It’s not that simple, I wish it was,” the doctor offered, measuring his words carefully. “She is suffering from what we call hysterical or emotional amnesia.”

“Amnesia?”

The doctor nodded and watched as another ambulance pulled up to the entrance and the paramedics whisked another gurney into the building. “The chances are it’s temporary. It generally occurs after some sort of psychological trauma. In this case when she was attacked.”

Leo’s eyes widened and he rubbed his forehead in consternation, “Hang on, can we back track? Margaret was attacked and she has amnesia?”

“Yes, that’s the bare bones of it. The police will be able to tell you more. We’ve moved her into a private room and she’s being cared for.”

“But she has amnesia?” Leo clarified, his annoyance rising with the doctor’s total disregard for Margaret’s predicament. She had been attacked, that was something else he needed clarified, what sort of attack, and she now had amnesia. He needed answers and there was nothing that made him crazier than unanswered questions.

“Yes. She can remember her name, that she works for you, but the rest is hazy. Look I’m sorry but I need to go, we’re very busy. The specialist will be able to explain better.”

“What room is she in?” Leo asked, the last of his patience finally gone with the doctor’s dismissal.

“Your wife is in room 320.”

Leo came to an abrupt halt and turned to look at the doctor. “My wife?”

“Yes, you are Leo McGarry from the White House?”

“Yeah, but. . .”

“Then your wife is in room 320.” He walked off towards the double doors, not in the least concerned that his patient wasn’t the only one having memory problems.

*~*~*~*

Leo hovered outside the hospital room, watching Margaret through the glass window. The conversation downstairs had left him more concerned than when he’d first gotten the call. Seeing her sitting in bed, worried him even more.

Margaret had been dressed in a pale blue gown, her red hair caked in blood and a large bruise developing on her forehead. Her hands fidgeted in her lap as she wringed and waved them alternatively. She looked so frail that he wanted to wrap her in his arms and never let go, in much the same way as when he’d first set eyes on his newborn daughter.

Taking a deep breath, Leo opened the door and stepped into the room.

She turned at the sound and her face lit up at the sight of him. “Leo, thank God,” she let out in a rush of breath.

“Hey Margaret,” he greeted hesitantly. “How’s the head?”

“It hurts.”

Leo allowed his fingers to lightly brush the lump on her head and she winced. “Sorry.” A moment of unmitigated hatred hit him and he tensed. Whoever had done this to her had to pay.

“It’s okay. Can we go home now? I need to change and then we can go to work.”

“I think you can take the day off. You need to rest,” Leo suggested, hearing her voice in his head as she chided him about working too much. “I’ll run you home and then I need to get back to the office.”

“Oh. . .kay,” she mumbled, her voice cracking as she dropped her head and her lip quivered.

“Margaret?” he asked softly, perching on the edge of her bed.

“I. . .,” she started but her words began incomprehensible as she sobbed uncontrollable.

On impulse, he snaked his arms around her and pulled her against his chest. “Hush,” he whispered, his chin resting against her head. “It’s gonna be okay.”

Her sobs increased in volume and he tightened his grip. For the next few minutes she gripped his shirt and pressed her face against his shoulder. Finally she sat back and swiped at her eyes.

“You wanna go home, now?” Leo asked, giving her a tentative smile.

“Will you stay with me?”

“I need. . .,” he began then sighed. “Okay, I’ll stay home.” As much as he needed to get back to work and talk to the police, she looked on the verge of tears and he didn’t want to witness that again. “I need to phone the office then I’ll be back.” Leo moved to climb off the bed but she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek.

He held her tightly against him until she finally sighed deeply and released him.

“I’ll get dressed.”

“Okay, and I’ll be right back.” He walked to the door and stopped, glancing back over his shoulder as she threw back the covers and jumped off the bed. Swallowing hard at the sight of her long naked legs, and pushing away his inappropriate thoughts, he continued down the corridor to find a pay phone.

*~*~*~*

After signing the necessary discharge papers, Leo led Margaret downstairs and into the waiting car.

The driver opened the car door and Leo helped her inside. Once she was settled, he climbed in beside her.

The specialist had been confident that Margaret would make a complete recovery, he was less sure of when. Leo had asked a long list of questions, getting more and more upset by the answers and false reassurances he received. The final parting had been to tell Leo to take it slowly, play along with Margaret and not to panic if she didn’t show signs of improvement soon.

His next call had been to Josh. Josh had asked what he could do to help and Leo had found himself telling his deputy to take control of the campaign and liase with Bruno. Four weeks before the Convention and he was handing over the reins to Josh. Leo wasn’t sure what had come over him but he suddenly had an uncontrollable need to be there for Margaret and it wasn’t just because she had no one else to speak of.

Margaret, upon his return from looking for a pay phone, had folded her arms across her chest and raised an eyebrow in question. She hadn’t asked where he was or what he was doing, just fixed him in her sights and gave him a knowing look.

They now sat side by side on the back seat, her hand firmly clasped in his.

“I’d like a bath when we get home,” Margaret announced, staring out of the window and watching the streets go by in a blur.

“Okay.” He glanced across at her and briefly wondered where his Margaret had disappeared to. Although he would never admit it to her, he missed the sarcasm and the constant chatter when she wasn‘t around. “Anything else?”

“A nap maybe.”

“The doctor said you need to be wary of concussion. How about a bath and some tea? Then you can watch a little television.“

“And what are you going to do?“ she asked pointedly.

If he was going to take on the role of loving husband he needed to dash home and pack a bag and talk to his daughter. Mallory, he suspected, was going to find the whole thing a hoot, her father playing husband again. To Margaret of all people. He sighed and ran his thumb over her knuckles. “I need to run to the store then I’ll be back.”

“But you’ll stay with me? No long distance trips? No late nights?”

“I promise. I’ll need to pop into work but I’ll be here as much as I can,” he said firmly.

The car pulled up outside her apartment building and the driver walked around and opened the door.

Margaret stepped out on to the sidewalk and waited for Leo to join her. “I’m sorry if I’m being needy. I just. . .”

“It’s okay.” He patted her arm and dug in his pocket for her front door key. “So, let’s get you inside and I’ll run you a nice hot bath.”

*~*~*~*

The first night had been somewhat uncomfortable as Leo tried to tiptoe carefully around Margaret and her missing memories, but as the first few days had become a week, they’d slipped into a routine.

During the day, Margaret slept or watched television as she slowly recuperated, her strength growing by the day, her memories still disjointed. Leo left for work at six every morning and tried to make it home by eight every evening. When he could, he came home for lunch. If he couldn’t make it, he phoned and she would fill him in on the plots of her soaps.

At night they sat in front of the television and ate whatever she had made. For the first time in years he ate a balanced diet and slept for more than three hours a night. The only thing that was suffering was his work. It didn’t seem to have quite the same appeal without Margaret there to support him.

He was living a more normal life than he’d had in years and as the weeks progressed he wondered how he was ever going to go back to how it was before.

It had started with her waking in the middle of the night. She would be dreaming one minute and having flashbacks the next. First there were images of her brothers and her parents on vacation, then her at university, playing basketball.

She’d wake in Leo’s arms and he would hold her as she recounted what she remembered. She would wish at length that she could remember more of their relationship but it remained elusive. Finally he would rock her until she fell asleep.

It was ten days after the accident that her first memories of him filtered through. She was washing dishes as he worked at the dining table, papers spread over the surface as he bashed at a laptop.

She had been twenty-two, fresh out of college, when she’d applied for the job as Secretary. The Personnel Director had added her to the books and less than three days later had sent her to Leo as a temp.

It had been a less than auspicious start. He had been cranky, his filing system a mess and he was running late after dropping his daughter off at High School. Margaret had hovered for five minutes before finally announcing her presence.

He had looked less than impressed at the girl in front of him until she started to put his desk in order and handed him a copy of his daily schedule.

As time had passed she had become accustomed to his needs, so in-tune with his wants that he had been lost without her.

She glanced across at Leo and smiled.

It was coming back to her, her life, how she met her husband, but he seemed so engaged in what he was doing she didn’t want to lift his spirits only to douse them with what she didn’t remember. At least she now knew that it would come back and one day she could be the wife he married.

******

They were sitting on the couch, the day’s papers spread out between them and Margaret’s favorite drama on the television. He had restricted what she was allowed to watch as far as possible, indulging her shows rather than have her watch CNN. The last thing he needed was her catching sight of the White House Chief of Staff and freaking out. It had been bad enough with Rosslyn. He had only found out later that she had spent the hour between the shooting and his phone call in his office watching the television in case he’d gotten hurt and needed her.

Margaret was at present, tucked up in a ball, raving about how sexy Sam Waterston was and how she hoped the DA on her case looked that good.

Leo glanced up at the screen and returned to his papers.

Margaret continued to be enthralled in the television as Leo listened with one ear. From what he could gather the police had arrested a drunk driver and were in the process of bringing him to trial.

Her hand on his arm drew his attention from the crossword to her face. “Margaret, what’s wrong?” he asked, her confused expression scaring him.

“Sierra Tucson.”

“Sierra Tucson?”

Margaret slid her hand down his arm and entwined her fingers with his own. “You admitted yourself to Sierra Tucson. Governor Bartlet phoned me in the middle of the night to say that you were staying with him for a few days then his wife phoned me later and said you were going to be away a while.”

“Margaret.” He said her name almost reverently as he took in just how much she knew about him. How many secrets she’d kept over the years. How much of her life was knotted with his.

“I told everyone you were taking a vacation, visiting your family. I signed your name. . .” She stopped abruptly and gazed into his eyes. “I would have done anything.”

Those five words were enough to convince him that Jenny’s instincts had been right - his assistant had been in love with him back then. “I know. It cuts both ways.”

Her lips were pressing against his before he could respond. The kiss was soft and tender and her arms were holding him tightly around his neck. When she pulled back, she rested her head on his neck. “Do you think it’ll all come back?”

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat and wondered why his stomach was twisted in knots. ”The doctor said it will all come back eventually,” Leo said, his fingers rubbing her back in small circles.

“I’m scared, Leo,” she mumbled against his neck, his cologne and the warmth of his body giving her a modicum of safety. “Scared that when it comes back everything will change.”

“You have nothing to be scared of, just take one day at a time.”

“Okay.” Everything seemed so simple to her then. She had Leo, he was her rock and everything else was a blur. “I’m going to bed now.”

“Want me to hold you?”

She nodded and let him stand up.

He extended his hand and pulled her from the couch before gently guiding her into the bedroom.

Margaret shed her robe onto the floor and waited as Leo pulled back the covers and flattened the pillows for her.

Giving him a small smile, she climbed up onto the bed and patted the mattress beside her.

Kicking off his shoes, Leo lay down beside her, snaking an arm under her neck and tugging her towards him. He settled her head against his shoulder and smiled as she nuzzled against his neck. She needed him, and the more time he spent with her he realized it was a two way thing.

******

Margaret stood in the bathroom door, her robe pulled tightly around her and her hair hanging in wet tendrils on her shoulders.

Leo was standing in the shower, the curtain closed, humming softly to himself. He had in the last few weeks become accustomed to her shower, the temperature of her water and even waking up next to her in bed. She had become distressed on the first night when he had suggested he sleep on the couch. Since then they had taken to sleeping in the same bed, his arm protectively around her waist and a smile on his face. It seemed so natural to be the one looking after her that there was only a moment of embarrassment when he awoke each morning and found her legs wrapped around his own.

“Want me to come and wash your back?” Margaret purred, leaning against the door frame.

Leo swallowed hard. The idea in itself was appealing, but Margaret suggesting it under the circumstances made him wary. “I’m fine.”

“Spoilsport.”

“I thought you wanted to go out, see something other than these four walls. You get in here with me and we won’t be going anywhere,” Leo offered quickly. “Coffee would be good.”

“Okay,” she said with a slight bob of her head and headed to the kitchen. The coffee machine made its daily gurgling as she located two mugs.

“So have you thought any more about where you’d like to go?” Leo asked, now in his blue terrycloth robe.

Margaret spun around from watching the machine and shrugged. “Take me to the places I need to know.”

“Uh?” He stopped towelling his hair and stared at her.

“The office, our restaurant, we do have a restaurant, right? And shopping,” Margaret grinned. “I can’t remember the last time I went shopping. But then again I can’t remember much at all.”

Leo groaned as he walked into the bedroom. “Your sense of humor is getting worse.” He picked up his pants and a shirt off of the bed.

“Yeah, well. . .So can we go shopping?”

Leo chuckled quietly to himself. Margaret was the most economical person he knew. Never in the ten years he’d known her had she let him buy her anything more than a small Christmas gift. Now she was begging to go shopping and something told him his credit card was going to get a bashing, and he really wouldn’t have it any other way. “Sure.”

******

The morning had been spent touring around the sights of DC. He had taken her passed the Department of Labor, relieved that she at least recognized it. Her comment about it being ugly brought a smile to his face and happy memories of their time working there. After a short walk through the Constitutional Gardens she announced she was ready to shop.

“So do you still lecture?” Margaret asked, stepping out of the dressing room.

Leo glanced up from his newspaper and his eyes widened. The deep red dress clung to her body in all the right places.

“Close your mouth, Leo, you’re drooling.”

“We’ll take it,” Leo said without a second thought.

“Really?” Her eyes danced as she smoothed down the fabric and twirled. “When do you have to lecture again? And who‘s keeping the records?”

It had been five years since he’d last stood on a podium and talked about his days as Labor Secretary. In the two years after resigning and until he started the Bartlet campaign, he’d put aside enough money to set himself up for life. Margaret had run his life then, everything from his tax returns to his lecture schedule, from a desk in his house. It had surprised him even then the capacity he had for boredom and how easy it was to let her run his life.

“I have to be in the office tomorrow,” Leo finally said after an endless silence.

“Okay.”

“But I have today off. It’s Sunday after all. You should go, try on more clothes. Shoes. Women like shoes, right?”

Margaret nodded and disappeared into the changing room.

She reappeared minutes later carrying the dress and wearing her jeans and a sweater. “Why’d you give up lecturing?” It was fragmented, her memory, but the specialist had said to expect that. Tiny pieces of memories coming back until eventually it all fell into place. Her strongest memory was of Leo, and that was the only thing that comforted her in the middle of the night when she woke up in a cold sweat.

“I got tired of having to chose between the lesser of who cares,” he said dryly, folding his paper and following her through the department store.

“When?” She fingered a deep blue silk blouse before glancing at the price tag and moving on.

“Margaret, you know we’re not supposed to push it.” He grabbed the blouse from the rack and followed her.

“I’m asking for a year, Leo. Not the details.”

“1997.” The year he went to Jed and asked him to run for President. He could still remember returning from New Hampshire and going to her apartment, the same apartment they now shared, and telling her what he was thinking of doing. Leo grinned at the memory. Not a single groan or complaint. Margaret had asked first what he needed her to do and secondly if he’d eaten on the plane. She’d pretty much put her life on hold for his dream ever since.

“Leo?”

“Yeah,” he sighed, shaking himself out of his reverie.

“I’m hungry.”

“We’ve finished shopping?”

She gave him a satisfied smirk and dumped her purchases on the desk.

Leo handed over his credit card and shook his head. Silly question. Something in her eyes told him they would be coming back.

******

“Leo, you’re gonna be late,” Margaret yelled from the bathroom, pulling her hair back into a ponytail.

“I’m not going in today,” he called back, pen poised over the newspaper.

Margaret opened the bathroom door and walked down the hallway into the kitchen. “I’m sorry, I think my hearing must be going. I’m sure you said you were taking the day off.”

“I did,” he stated, his mouth twitching up at its corners.

“It’s Wednesday. Leo McGarry never takes a day off. Hell, you even work Christmas Day.”

Leo removed his glasses and turned to look up at her. “I thought we could go to the Mall, look at “The First Ladies” exhibit, have lunch maybe. If you’re feeling up to it.”

She looked at him as if he’d grown two heads.

“I have a deputy, who tells me on a daily basis he is more than capable of doing my job, so I thought I’d let him,” Leo grinned. “Of course he might burn the place down. . .”

“You have an idiot for a deputy?”

“Yeah.” Well her nickname for him was mophead, good for clearing up the mess but not for much else.

“Okay.”

Ten minutes later they were climbing into his car and heading across town. The ride took thirty minutes and, after several failed attempts, they finally found a parking space close to the Mall. It would, on reflection, have been quicker to park at the White House, but he had been fearful of invoking panic and questions from his companion. Instead they were two tourists enjoying the Indian Summer.

After being searched at the door, Leo led the way through the lobby to the exhibit.

“I don’t see any of Mrs. Bartlet’s dresses here,” Margaret stated, peering closer to the plaques.

Leo stopped walking and turned around to look at her. “Mrs. Bartlet?”

“The First Lady. Bartlet is still President right?” Her eyes went wide as realization hit. “Bartlet is your friend, the one who helped you. . .”

“Is there anything else you remember?” Leo asked, a slight edge of excitement to his voice.

She pursed her lips and closed her eyes, willing the memories to come back. Her eyes flew open and she fought back a sob. “Mrs. Landingham. Leo, she was killed. . .”

His arms were around her waist as the first sob escaped her lips and she crumbled into his arms. “Ssh, I’m here.”

They had been friends, ever since Margaret had first visited Concord and the older women had taken her under her wing. Between them they’d carefully gathered and trained a group of wonderfully strong, capable and likeable women. After Delores had been killed, Margaret had vacillated between tears and over achievement. It was only after the MS announcement had broken and Haiti had erupted that Margaret had finally given into her grief. The pain in her eyes had almost been too much at times. Now she was reliving it all over again.

“I’m taking you home,” he whispered, an arm at her waist.

He wasn’t quite sure how he managed to get her into the car or how he’d driven home, holding her hand the whole way but they reached her apartment without incident.

They walked up the stairs in silence, Leo glancing up at her face, watching the tears spill onto her cheeks and feeling helpless. His hand was firmly entwined with hers, only breaking contact as they climbed out of the car and headed up to her apartment.

“Can I get you anything?”

Margaret shook her head and dropped onto the couch, drawing her long frame into a ball and wrapping her arms around her knees. “It was her first new car.”

Leo slid onto the couch beside her. There was nothing he could say to make it easier. His hands fidgeted in his lap as he debated what to do.

She made the decision for him, crawling across the couch and shifting position until she was part way across his lap, her head in the crook of his neck. “Why Leo? Why did she have to die? Why is this happening to me?”

“I don’t know, honey,” he whispered, running one hand up her spine and twirling her hair around the fingers of the other.

Margaret lifted her head from his neck to look in his eyes. ”Make it better, Leo, please.”

He would if he could. His first instinct was to phone a doctor as her sobbing intensified, the second was to try to get her to bed and let her sleep. That way he could talk to Abbey or someone who’d know what to do.

It barely registered that she was kissing him until he felt her tongue demanding entry to his mouth and her fingers running down the front of his shirt.

Leo parted his lips to speak and felt her tongue brush his, a low moan escaping her mouth as she tried to get closer to him.

“Leo, I need you,” she mumbled against his skin.

Sex had somehow not become an issue so far. The fear of her attack and the amnesia making anything beyond gentle kisses and cuddling too much. But the look in her eyes and her hands moving across his body left him in little doubt what it was that she was demanding. How he was going to let her down gently, he had no idea but taking advantage of the one woman he’d always vowed to protect didn’t seem like an option either.

“Margaret,” he tried, pulling back and lightly kissing her lips.

“It’s been weeks, Leo. I’m still the same woman you married,” she choked.

Leo rubbed a hand across his forehead. Her hands were becoming more demanding as she looked at him hopefully.

“Don’t you love me anymore?”

“Of course I love you,” he sighed without hesitation. He did love her. She was a friend, someone he could depend on, on any given day he was torn between irritation and amusement at her quirks, but he didn’t want anyone else as his assistant. And in the past few weeks his feelings for her had been strengthened, quickly becoming something more.

“Then let’s go to bed.” Her cheeks tinged with pink as she slid a hand into his shirt, toying with the sprinkling of hair she found on his chest. “Leo?”

He took a deep breath and prepared to let her down gently. “Not like this, Honey.”

She dropped her hands to her lap and refused to look at him. He wanted his wife not some resemblance of her. “I’m going to get a drink.” She stood shakily and walked to the kitchen.

“Margaret,” he groaned, his voice inaudible as he watched her go. He’d made a complete mess of the situation and now she was pissed at him. Quietly he followed her.

She was standing with her back to him, her shoulders shaking as she fought the tears.

“Come here,” he called, taking a step towards her. “Please.” When she shook her head, he moved closer and wrapped his arms around her waist. “You are beautiful, funny, classy and nothing would make me happier than taking you to bed.” And it was true. He would make love to her in a second if she was back to her normal self and knew what she was doing.

“So why don’t you?” she pleaded.

“Because I love you too much.” Twice in one day.

“I love you,” she offered, turning slowly in his arms.

A man only had so much will power and he was on the edge of his. Her feelings were clearly visible in her eyes and there was a lot to be said for that look of complete and utter devotion, especially when it was directed at you. As he gazed into her eyes it became all too apparent that he was in love with her too.

“Come back to the couch. We can curl up and watch the soaps and I’ll hold you.”

She bobbed her head reluctantly, allowing him to take her hand and lead her back into the living room. It wasn’t what she wanted, but he was everything she needed.

*~*~*~*

“Ginger,” Leo bellowed, dropping his glasses onto the desk and rubbing his temples. “GINGER!”

The tall redhead appeared in the doorway a few seconds later. “Yes, Leo.”

“I need the Sherman file.”

Her sigh was more than audible as she crossed the room and lifted his mug and glasses and pulled out the file. “Anything else?”

“No,” he mumbled, watching as she headed to the door. “Thank you.”

Ginger dropped into her chair and covered her face with her hands. She had always suspected Leo was difficult to work for, not that Toby wasn’t, but the last few weeks had been an eye opener. He bellowed, he was on the go every hour of the day and she couldn’t remember when she last ate lunch with the girls. She could only hope that Margaret would recover soon and return to work, or he would find a temp and manage to retain her for more than a few days.

The phone rang on the desk and she reached to pick it up, “Leo McGarry’s office.”

“Hello. Is Leo there?” a familiar voice asked.

“Margaret? Is everything okay?” Ginger asked, climbing out of her seat and moving towards the door.

“I want to talk to Leo.”

“Okay, hold on.” Ginger pressed hold and peered around the doorframe. “Leo, Margaret on line one.”

The normally unflappable Ginger sounded panicked and he snatched up the line. “Margaret?”

“Leo.”

“Sweet heart, what’s wrong? Did you have another flashback?” he asked, his voice calmer than he felt.

“I remember everything,” she offered sadly. “You are Chief of Staff for President Bartlet and I work as your assistant in the White House. We’re not married and. . .,” she faltered for a second.

“I’m coming home now.” It didn’t occur to him that her apartment wasn’t his home now or that her recovery would change things between them. “I’ll be there in twenty-five minutes.”

“Take my car,” Ginger offered from the doorway. “It’s the black Toyota in the back lot.”

Leo took the keys and nodded his head before practically running through the building.

The drive home was the longest of his life, red traffic lights and dense traffic impeding his progress. By the time he pulled up outside her apartment block his heart was racing and his hands were trembling. The key stuck in her lock before he managed to unlock the door and stumble into her apartment.

Margaret looked up at him, wide-eyed, one of his sweaters pulled tightly around her. “I’m sorry,” was all she said, as tears pricked at her eyes.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Leo chided softly, moving tentatively towards the couch.

“All these weeks you’ve been staying here, taking care of me, pretending that we were married.”

“The President says we’ve been acting like an old married couple for years.”

She gave him a sad smile. “I remember everything, Leo.”

Gently, he lowered himself onto the couch and reached for her hands, pulling back at the last moment. “We should call your doctor and get you checked out.”

“Leo.”

“And then take it from there.”

“Leo?”

He turned to look at her.

“I’m no longer your responsibility, I never was.”

That wasn’t strictly true, but it didn’t seem to be the appropriate time to tell her that she’d been his responsibility since he’d hired her all those years ago. “Margaret, sweetheart.”

Leo gave her a tentative smile and finally reached for her hands, covering them with his own.

Margaret stared down at their joined hands before looking up into his eyes. “Leo,” she choked.

“It’s okay. I’m not leaving you.” He squeezed her hands lightly. “I promise.”

“I feel like an idiot,” she groaned.

“No need. I do have one question though,” he said softly. “Why did you think we were married?”

Margaret flushed pink and stared across at the window. She fought back the tears that threatened to spill onto her cheeks. “I. . .”

“It doesn’t matter, now.” The last thing he wanted was for her to fall apart again.

“You probably don’t remember,” Margaret let out in a rush of breath. “It was while you were drinking. We’d talk for hours and there were nights you’d sleep with your head in my lap and I’d tell you it would be alright.”

He did remember, at least parts of it. However drunk he got, he had always managed to concentrate on his job, probably because she was there to pull up the slack. It was her friendship then that had made him so protective of her now. Provisions had been made for her in his will, he’d had the Service check out her apartment on the grounds she was at risk because she was his assistant. Or at least that was the reason he’d used.

“Well, you were right.”

“Then it came back to bite you on the ass,” Margaret offered, the first inkling of a smile on her face.

“Like that wasn’t gonna happen.”

“Thank you for being understanding.” She glanced back at their hands but made no move to extract hers from under his. “We should probably pack your things up and you should get back to work.”

“We should get you to the doctor and get you checked out.”

“Leo!”

“Oh hell, Margaret, do you have to argue with me about everything?” he snapped.

“Leo, it’s over, you don’t need to continue the charade. When I come back to work we can pretend it never happened.”

“I don’t want to pretend it never happened.”

“What?”

He did the only thing he could think of, he lifted his hands from her lap and cupped her face, shifting closer to her. “I’m not very good at these things.” He inched closer. “I was hoping that this could be the start of something.”

Margaret raised an eyebrow, her lips moving soundlessly.

Leo pressed his lips to hers, his hands moving to tangle in her hair, deepening the kiss for the briefest of seconds before pulling back. He cocked his head to one side and waited for her reaction.

“Oh,” she mumbled just before she kissed him.

That was all the encouragement he needed. His hands moved over her body, memorizing the curves he had struggled not to touch before. They rolled over and she found herself pinned beneath him against the couch.

“You know, the bed would probably be more comfortable.”

“Later,” he whispered, resuming the kiss. There was going to plenty of time later, that much he was sure of.

*~*~*~*~*

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Leo asked for what she thought was the sixth time that morning.

“Leo, it’s been six weeks.” She gave him a heavy sigh and folded her arms over her chest. “I can only imagine the state of the office. Papers stuffed in drawers, filing all to pot, and God knows what you’ve been eating while I’ve been under house arrest.”

“You’ve been recuperating.”

“Yeah, whatever. Can we go?”

Leo shook his head, she was he had decided quite impossible, among other things. “In a minute.”

“Now what?”

“This,” he whispered as his hand cupped her cheek and he leaned up to kiss her. His lips brushed hers gently, savoring the taste of her lip balm and willing the day to be over. “Now we can go.”

Margaret covered his hand with her own and pressed her lips to him. “Not yet,” she mumbled, deepening the kiss and dropping her purse to the ground.

Leo sighed contentedly. The service car and senior staff meeting were quickly disappearing from his train of thought, and she was taking him to a place he had come to know only too well over the last few weeks.