“Well, baby girl. . .,” Leo started, gently stroking the little girl’s hair. “You’re quite the little heartbreaker, aren‘t you? Daddy’s gonna have to keep an eye on you. . . and those boys.”

He couldn’t believe it when Margaret had announced that she was pregnant, that they were going to be parents. Here he was, sixty, and a father for the second time. There had been even more surprise when at six months they had been told it was going to be a girl. This time he wasn’t going to mess it up.

Mallory had been shocked at first, but happy for them, the past year having convinced everyone that life was for living. She had even gone so far as to throw a baby shower and help paint the nursery. Seeing his two daughters together had been one of the most emotional moments of his life.

“Mommy’s having a nap. You’ve worn her out little one,” he whispered, his voice echoing through the almost deserted nursery. “We thought you weren’t coming.”

Margaret had finally been induced seventeen days late, on a Friday. They had made the decision together, fully aware that there would be a constant stream of visitors and that it would be easier for them to visit the new arrival over the weekend. For the past forty-eight hours he had scarcely had a moment alone with his wife or his baby. Something he intended to rectify when he got them home.

An agent stood guard outside the door at the President’s request, another watched over his sleeping wife a few yards down the corridor. They weren’t going to leave anything to chance, the protectees far too important.

Leo’s fingers brushed against the name tag circling the chubby pink ankle as his lips quirked upwards. “And now that you’re here, I’m going to protect you with my life. I love you, Naomi.”

Her tiny pink foot kicked outwards as she shifted in her sleep.

Content that she was safe, Leo slipped out of the room and headed back to check on his wife.

*~*~*~*

The hospital room was dark and quiet, the only occupants a tall red-haired woman and a newborn baby, while a broad shouldered man in a dark suit positioned himself just outside the door.

She was exhausted, Naomi had to admit. No one had quite prepared her for the long painful labor but then considering the newborn’s genes, it should have been predictable. Not that she regretted it for a second, the tiny pink bundle in the crib beside her was worth it. She just wished her husband had made it back in time to be at her birth. Instead he was in New York campaigning.

Naomi settled herself on the bed and smiled down at her baby. They had tried for years to conceive, finally taking a leaf out of her own parents’ book and visiting the Bartlet Farm. Four weeks later she was amused to find herself pregnant. Her father always joked that it was something in the water there.

Margaret walked up the corridor to her daughter’s room and stopped. She gave the agent a wary once over and opened the door.

“Naomi,“ she whispered, unwilling to break the silence. It was hard to believe there were now three generations of her family, three strong willed females. Crossing the room, she embraced her daughter and picked up the wriggling infant. Her eyes drifted back to the closed door, protective as ever of her family.

“He’s her lead agent. Five hours old and she has a detail of six,” Naomi groaned to her mother. “It’s not as if she’s gonna leave the hospital.”

“Yeah, well, if your father was here. . .” She didn’t need to finish the sentence. They both knew if Leo was alive the baby would have an FBI locator beacon attached to her and probably a detail the size of the 82^nd airborne. Except Leo wasn’t alive, having finally succumbed to pneumonia the previous winter, and Margaret was now in charge. Although, according to Leo she had always been in charge, except he was her strength as much as she was his. “Have you thought of a name?” she asked, struggling to control her emotions. There wasn’t a day that passed that she didn’t miss Leo. Her only consolation was that he and Jed were together again, friends forever.

Naomi nodded, her thoughts of the man who had been her world throughout her childhood. “We thought Zoey.”

There was a moment’s silence before Margaret cleared her throat. “So. . . ?” she asked, turning as a second agent entered the room. “It’s twenty-four hour protection?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” the man replied, not in the least bit phased by the question. “The Congressman wants her protected around the clock.”

“And you’ve been an agent . . ?”

“Five years, Ma’am. I was in the army before that,” he added politely.

“You’re starting to sound like Uncle Jed,” Naomi whined. “She’s going to be fine. It won’t happen again.”

She meant that Zoey wouldn’t happen again, that they wouldn’t have to endure the worst seventy-hours of her parents lives again. Even as she said the words she hoped she was right.

*~*~*~*

Margaret was in her office when the President and Leo returned from the residence. The look on their faces through the open doorway told her it was bad news, the worst news. There had been an undercurrent for months, she wasn‘t blind after all, and Jordan‘s reappearance the previous Fall was a give-away, but she didn‘t ask questions, just trusted Leo to tell her when the time was right.

She loitered in Leo’s office, trying to put some semblence of order to his desk, on hand if he needed her.

Minutes later Leo excused himself and approached her, hands at his side, brow furrowed. His closest friend was in seven kinds of hell and there was nothing he could do to help. His own pain was tearing him in two and now he had to tell Margaret. Of course he could have left it to someone else, but she would have only worried more. This way he could be sure she was okay too, not working herself up into a frenzy worrying about everyone else.

“Margaret.“ Her name on his lips sounded so foreign that she wrapped her arms around herself and waited.

“Zoey’s missing.”

She didn’t need to hear anymore. Her thoughts sprang momentarily to the ink pen, to Zoey‘s graduation and the moment of adoration she had witnessed between the young woman and her father‘s friend. “What do you need?“

His smile was weak, his thanks implicit in his eyes.

For the next six hours they had worked side by side in silence. There had been endless calls to make, papers to sort and meetings with the staff. The President’s decision would change their world for the foreseeable future and as Chief-of Staff, Leo had to protect the Administration, as a friend, he wanted to make it easier for his friends.

The First Couple were in the Residence, the First Lady sedated with Jed watching over her when Margaret knocked lightly on the door to her boss’ office.

The sun was already coming up over the horizon, but they hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours. When they thought they had witnessed the worst night of the administration, something came along to top it. This time she was sure this event was the worst, it had to be, the possibility of something even more tragic happening was too much to contemplate.

At a little after eleven-twenty the night before, the lead agent on Zoey’s detail, had sent out the message that she was missing and an agent was dead. That was as much as Margaret could relay over the telephone to the endless stream of people that phoned for news.

Leo was hurting, a mixture of anguish that the young woman he considered a god daughter was missing, and fear for his best friend’s health. Unfortunately the business of the country had to be carried on and now they had a Republican President to deal with.

“Leo?” Margaret called softly, berating herself for studying him so intently. He seemed to have aged years in the last few hours and she had to stop herself from hugging him, from trying to take care of him.

“Yeah.” He was tired, emotional and it had only just begun.

“Mallory’s on line two.”

Leo glanced up at her in surprise.

The slight bob of her head confirmed his suspicions. She knew him too well. The steaming cup of coffee on his desk a constant reminder of her fussing.

“I thought you might wanna talk to her. She called earlier when you were with the Presi. . .” she trailed off. President Bartlet wasn’t the President anymore. Tears pricked at her eyes.

“It’s okay.” The idea of Jed not being President anymore was too much for him too. The whole day had been too strange. Now that she was on the other end of the phone, the sudden urge to talk to his daughter, to ensure himself she was okay, was overwhelming.

Margaret bobbed her head again and closed the door quietly behind her.

It took a few seconds for him to compose himself before he snatched up the receiver. “Mal, honey, are you okay? Where are you?”

“Hey, Daddy.” Her voice was tight and infinitely more quiet than usual. “I’m in Baltimore with Ellie.” There was a pause. “Is it going to be alright?”

She was his little girl again. The child who had found him passed out on the couch, listened to her mother’s rants about how useless he was but loved him anyway. He had told her then it would be alright and for a while it had been. This time he couldn’t lie.

“I don’t know, baby, I hope so. We’re doing everything we can to get her back. How’s Ellie bearing up?” It didn’t surprise him that mallory was in Baltimore. She had grown up with the Bartlet girls, they were closer to her than her own cousins. At least there his daughter would be safe.

Mallory sighed into the phone. “She’s lurching between hysterics and yelling. She won’t take sedation and the agents make her feel like a caged animal. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” His heart skipped a beat as he thought about Jed and Zoey. He could only imagine what they were going through. The idea of someone taking his little girl, of harming her, frightened the life out of him.

“Do as Margaret says,” Mallory ordered, a small hint of teasing in her voice. “I’ll talk to you later.” Her father had work to do and for once she could appreciate it.

Leo returned the phone to its cradle and sat back in his chair. He wanted a drink, the urge as strong as he had ever felt, except it wouldn’t be one drink, it would be many. But his friend needed him, the acting President needed him, and then there were the staff; one drink and he would be letting down not only himself but the people who were depending on him. “MARGARET!”

She appeared before him, notepad in hand, her red hair now tightly tucked up into a ponytail. “Yes, Leo?”

“Have you eaten?” he asked nonchalantly.

“We were going to send out for breakfast.” The assistants had taken it upon themselves to make sure their bosses ate - Donna was taking orders as she spoke.

“Come on.”

“Where?” Margaret raised an eyebrow and stared at him, confused.

“We’re gonna open the mess and I’m going to make you eggs.”

“Leo?”

“I want a drink,” he said calmly.

She didn’t need to know the rest of his thoughts. That one sentence alone would mean her watching over him, worrying for days. Right now she was going to be his life-line, the only person he knew he could depend on.

Margaret swallowed back her argument and nodded. “Well as long as there’s toast.” It wasn’t the first time she’d witnessed a moment of Leo’s weakness. But it was the first time he had come close to saying he needed her. She wasn’t going to let him down. She'd even eat his eggs, if that made him happy. God, she hated eggs.

*~*~*~*

“MARGARET!“

She sighed and rose to her feet. “Yes, Leo?“

He glanced up from the stream of paperwork that he had spent much of the day prioritizing and removed his glasses. “Go home.“

“I go home when you go home.“ It was a continuous argument. One she had never lost yet and tonight she had no intention of changing that.

“In that case, you can both go home,“ a voice said from the connecting door way.

They both turned to look at President Walken.

“Sir. . .?“ Leo started, his voice trailing off as the President waved him back into his seat.

“Go home, Leo. Get some sleep. You know it’s going to be even worse tomorrow. I’ve already sent CJ and Toby home. Josh is staying.“ He shook his head as Leo began to protest. “You have a pager.”

“Yes, Sir,” Leo finally mumbled, watching as Margaret rolled her eyes. “If you need anything. . .”

Margaret waited for the President to leave before she returned to her desk and went about the business of closing the office. Ten minutes later she re-entered Leo’s office to find him stuffing papers into his briefcase. “Forget it,“ she said firmly, her arms automatically crossing her chest.

His groan was audible as he dumped the stack of files on his desk and closed the case. “Are you ready?“

“After you.“ She wasn’t taking any chances. He was just as likely to wait until she left before returning to his desk.

The driver was waiting for them as they left by the northwest entrance, the spring air laden with the first hint of rain. They climbed in and he set off for Margaret’s apartment.

Less than fifteen minutes later they pulled up outside her apartment building and Leo helped her out of the car.

“Goodnight, Leo,” she called, climbing the steps.

Leo loitered on the pavement, not wanting to go home alone. Abbey had invited him to spend the night in the residence, but as much as he loved his friends he wasn’t sure he could watch them torn apart by what was happening. Instead he had planned to take a nap in his office, work a little and pretend he didn’t need a drink.

Margaret stopped on the step, key in hand. “Leo?” He looked almost lost and she knew then what she had fought so hard to deny, that she loved him. “Look I only have a couch but if you want it it’s yours.” It was crazy, the idea of Leo in her apartment over night. All it took was one reporter passing by, Presidents had been brought down with less.

A minute later she watched as the car left and Leo followed her through the apartment building. For one night at least it didn’t seem to matter and besides this way she could ensure he didn‘t go back to the White House.

The next morning Margaret awoke alert and happy. Then it came flooding back - Leo asleep on her couch, Zoey missing and a Republican President. She fought the urge to roll over and go back to sleep. Leo needed her and the least she could do was make sure he had a good breakfast, one without eggs. Maybe grapefruit, she mused as she pulled on her robe and headed towards the kitchen.

*~*~*~*

“Yes, Mr. President, I’ll leave a message for Leo. He’ll know what to do,” Margaret stated to the newest leader of the free world. She wasn’t sure he would anymore, but that wasn’t something she was about to let slip. To everyone else Leo looked in control, his professional demeanor was firmly in place. The only people who probably knew he wasn’t were herself and Mallory, Mallory who phoned every hour to see if there was news and to make sure her father was okay. Leo was okay, Margaret reassured herself. And she was going to keep it that way, even if it meant practically locking Josh out of Leo‘s office.

*~*~*~*

It was less than forty-eight hours since Zoey had disappeared from the club when Abbey appeared in Margaret’s office.

Margaret for her part stumbled to her feet, smoothing down her skirt as she did. “Mrs. Bartlet?“

“Hello, Margaret. Is Leo free to see me?“ Abbey asked, her voice timid, her eyes still red-rimmed. It was the first time in days she had been able to escape watchful eyes and she had felt the need to see Leo.

“Of course, Ma’am.” Margaret knocked on Leo’s door and stuck her head around the frame. “Mrs. Bartlet is here to see you.”

Leo removed his glasses and seemed to look straight through her for a few seconds. “Send her in,” he said gently.

Margaret opened the door wide and motioned for the First Lady to enter, closing the door behind her.

“Abbey,” he started, circling the desk and wrapping his arms around her.

Her eyes filled up and she clung to him, tears staining his rumpled white shirt. Her words were muffled as she babbled her greatest fears to him.

He held on to her, not saying a word, hearing his fears out loud brought back the reality of the situation and there was nothing he could do but hold her and listen.

By the time she left an hour later, his shirt was sodden and his heart was heavy. Leo followed her into the outer office and watched her go.

Margaret rose from her seat and appeared at his side, her eyes showing concern, her hand lightly touching his arm briefly before pulling away.

It was a simple gesture, but it told him more than words ever could - she was still there for him. One day he was going to show her how much that meant.

*~*~*~*

Leo left the Oval Office and entered his office through the connecting door. The last few days were finally catching up with him as he came to a halt in the middle of the room.

Margaret was leaning over his desk, sorting through the endless paperwork, phone messages piled high. She glanced up and frowned.

“Come ‘ere,” he said, his voice practically begging her, his eyes watering up.

Her face scrunched up.

He indicated she should move.

With a deep sigh she walked towards him, surprised when his arms encircled her and he pulled her to him. Seconds later he released her.

“Leo?”

His eyes misted over.

Without thinking she threw her arms around him and kissed his cheek.

*~*~*~*

Both women turned at the gentle rap on the door.

It opened and in strode Congressman Huckleberry Ziegler-Wyatt, a giant teddy bear under his arm. “How are my girls?”

His wife stepped into his arms and kissed her husband forcefully on the lips. They forgot everyone else in the room as they held onto each other.

“Hi, Mom,” he grinned sheepishly, stepping away from his wife. “Dad and CJ are going to drop by later.” He hugged his mother-in-law and took the tiny bundle from her arms.

His daughter opened her eyes and seemed to look right up at him.

Gently he reached for her hand and let her grab at his finger, marveling at how delicate she was. “What do you know? Dad was right. They really do come with hats.”

Margaret shook her head and smiled. Huck was the spitting image of his father, a fact that had frightened Leo senseless the first time his precious sixteen-year-old had announced she was going steady. Huck had grown on him and he was almost as proud as Toby when Huck had announced he was running for congress. It was a well founded rumor in Washington that they were looking at a future Presidential hopeful.

“What’s with the bear?” Margaret teased, sitting the overstuffed brown stuffed animal upright.

“Zoey dropped him by the office,” Huck offered without taking his eyes off his newborn. “She sends her love.”

*~*~*~*

“Zoey’s been found,” Leo offered. “Abbey and Jed are on their way to the hospital.”

Margaret let out a sigh of relief. It was only in the seconds that followed, Leo’s arms still around her waist, that questions began to arise. “Is she. . .? Did they. . .?”

“She’s bruised and we don’t know what they did to her mentally but she’s alive. They weren’t very smart. We’ve been watching the dealer, one of the . . . kidnappers turned up looking for a buy. We followed him back to an abandoned house. The FBI took the house about an hour ago.“ The full story was code word clearance but he trusted Margaret with his life. She had been his rock.

“Thank God,” Margaret breathed, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek.

Leo turned his head and their lips met for a matter of seconds. It was brief but he felt a connection that had been missing from his life for years.

Before he could stop her, Margaret silently pulled away, her skin flushed pink. “I’ve left your messages on your desk,” she mumbled, heading for the door.

Margaret headed down the corridor to the ladies room, her heels clicking on the floor as she picked up speed. Flinging the door open, she launched herself into a stall. In the heat of the moment she had kissed her boss. It was more than inappropriate, it was ill-timed and stupid.

Leo stood outside the bathrooms - well, paced up and down the corridor - as he debated whether to walk in and apologize. He needed to let the others know Zoey was safe, but at the moment he was more worried about Margaret.

“Josh told me the news,” Donna said matter-of-factly, appearing at his side and hugging him.

At least, he decided, with Donna already knowing, he was spared the task of telling the others. In Donna’s arms, he also knew what he felt with Margaret was real.

“Donna, can you check if Margaret’s in there?”

She gave him a look that asked if he was stupid, one that she used on Josh regularly.

“Look, I told her about Zoey and she took off . . .“ he trailed off exasperated. “I want to make sure she’s okay.”

Donna rolled her eyes and opened the door. “Margaret, you in here?”

The red head took a sharp intake of breath. “I’ll be out in a second.”

“Leo’s looking for you.”

Margaret inwardly groaned. She wasn’t up to facing him yet and she was dreading having to explain her actions. “Yeah, okay, whatever.”

“Margaret?”

“I’m coming.”

He was still waiting for her when she stepped out of the bathroom a few minutes later, his brow furrowed. “Margaret?”

“What do you need?” she asked, starting to walk towards the office.

He caught her elbow and turned her towards him. His answer had stunned her into silence, something which Leo was fond of telling everyone had never happened since.

They had celebrated Zoey’s return over dinner that night in his office. It wasn’t quite the date she had dreamed about but in the days that followed, their relationship had gone from boss and assistant to something more intimate and clearly defined.

*~*~*~*

“I told her to come over and say hi,” he added, oblivious to the fact his mother-in-law’s attention was somewhere entirely different, a generation away.

Naomi moved closer to him and straightened the baby’s hat, mouthing “Dad.”

Huck nodded. “Well, little one, I’m your dad. And it’s my job to look after you. There a few things I should probably tell you, about life and this family. Scratch that. There are a lot of things I should tell you. Apparently though we should start with Andrew Jackson and a big block of cheese.”

Margaret reached for her daughter’s hand and squeezed it tightly. Out of a terrible ordeal had come something good, a legacy she hoped baby Zoey would one day share with a baby of her own.