******

Margaret threw another dress on the bed and sunk down beside it. It was no good, the only formal dresses she owned no longer fit. Her favorite black, slinky number was so tight she couldn’t even zip it. Tears pricked at her eyes and within seconds the tears were streaming down her face.

“Margaret, it’s me,” Toby called, opening the front door and dropping his briefcase on the floor.

“I’m up here,” she choked.

His footsteps on the stair treads drifted closer as she tried to wipe away all indicators of her tears.

“Hey,” he said from the doorway, smiling at her. It wasn’t very often he got to see her undressed. These days she disappeared into the bathroom only to reappear fully clothed. Tonight she was wearing simple white underwear, her hands protectively resting on her swelling stomach.

She smiled weakly and he crossed to the bed.

The bed, he noticed, was covered in evening gowns. His favorite green number was peeking out from the bottom.

“You’re not giving these to Goodwill are you?” he asked, pushing them aside to sit down.

“Might as well. Nothing fits,” she mumbled. “I’m fat.”

Toby heard the sound of her voice breaking and pulled her into his arms. “You’re not fat. You’re carrying our baby.”

“But I have nothing to wear to the dinner,” she wailed, unaware of the sentiment in his voice. “You’ll have to go alone.”

He inwardly groaned and stroked her back in small circles. “We can buy you a dress, something stunning. I want you by my side.” He hoped there was a maternity shop in the District. “Maybe you and CJ can go shopping tomorrow.”

The tears started in earnest this time.

“What did I say now?” he growled.

Margaret pulled back from his embrace. “But she’s skinny and beautiful and I’m. . .”

Shaking his head, he pulled back and lightly brushed her tears away with the pads of his thumbs. “CJ isn’t beautiful, she’s just CJ.”

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

“In a crowded room it’s you I look at,” he started softly. “I’ve thought about you since the day I met you.”

Margaret frowned.

“At the very least since election night. And now, you’re all I ever want.” His hand fell to her stomach and he smiled. “Both of you. And you’re beautiful. Sam said only this morning that you were glowing, whatever that means.”

Things had been a little hectic of late. The move had taken place a week ago and the week before that they had finally told the rest of their friends that Margaret was pregnant. Not that they could have hidden it much longer. Margaret was starting to gain weight like eating was going out of fashion. He wasn’t sure how Margaret’s tiny frame was going to handle a ten pound baby. But now that everyone knew, they all wanted to be part of it.

“You said it better,” Margaret grinned. Lightly she leaned in and kissed his cheek.

“Don’t I always?” He brushed a strand of hair from her face and pressed his lips to hers. “So I guess I’m coming shopping tomorrow.”

She bobbed her head and slid her arms up to cross behind his neck. “I’d like that.”

Toby didn’t fail to notice her foot working its way up his calf, or the fact her tongue was teasing his earlobe. No, he knew just what she was up to. Unfortunately, at that minute the image of the horny First Lady came to mind and he grimaced.

“I thought you liked that,” Margaret commented gruffly, pulling back to look at him.

“I do,” he assured her. “Let me get out of these clothes and we can. . .” He gestured wildly with his hand.

The dresses landed in a heap on the floor as she shifted up the bed to wait for him.

******

“You should wear green more often,” CJ said, casting her eyes over Margaret’s dress.

“You really like it?”

CJ grinned. “More to the point, Toby must love it.”

Margaret’s eyes twinkled. Their shopping excursion on Saturday had led to a pretty passionate afternoon. Toby, it seemed was becoming increasingly turned on by the whole pregnancy experience.

“Okay, I don’t want to know the details,” CJ laughed, holding up her hand. “So how’s little Ziggy Ziegler?”

Margaret flushed pink and looked back at her wide eyed. “Ziggy?”

“It’s the only thing. . .,” she stopped suddenly. “Oh dear God, no. Ziggy is what Josh and Sam named the bump. It’s the only thing they could find to go with Ziegler.”

“Ah, okay. Well, Toby wants to name him Byron,” Margaret said, applying a little more foundation to her crimson cheeks.

“Him?”

“It’s going to be a girl but he won’t listen.”

“You know he’s going to be smitten, boy or girl, right?”

Margaret nodded. “After the medics pick him up off the floor. He doesn’t like blood,” she whispered conspiratorially.

CJ couldn’t help but giggle. The idea of Toby fainting and missing the birth was too good an image.

“Anyway, we’d better go find him before he starts to panic,” Margaret said, smoothing down the green satin. She opened the door and followed CJ towards the party.

They made it as far as the double doors before a familiar voice called out to them.

CJ turned first, grinning broadly. “Your Lordship.”

“Enchanting, positively enchanting,” he gushed, kissing her hand. “And Gerald’s assistant, looking more buxom than ever. Wonderful breasts.”

Margaret’s skin flushed pink under his intense scrutiny.

His eyes remained firmly fixed in her cleavage as his hands gestured wildly.

Something over his shoulder caught Margaret’s eye and she groaned. Toby was staring at her, a mixture of lust and jealousy in his eyes. She knew he was going to come over and she knew that there was going to be an international incident if she didn’t act fast.

“Have you seen Gerald this evening?”

His Lordship looked up into her face for a brief second before his eyes returned to mentally undressing her. “He’s about somewhere.”

“Lord Marbury,” Toby growled, his hands tightly clenched at his side.

“Toby. Good to see you.” The English Lord continued to talk without looking up. “Positively heaving. Don’t you think a heaving breast is good on a woman?”

“Especially when she’s my woman,” Toby growled, moving until he could place a predatory hand on his partner’s waist.

“She is. You and Gerald’s assistant? Why, that’s wonderful. Congratulations. Great taste, old boy.”

“They’re having a baby,” CJ interrupted, sensing Margaret’s nervousness.

“Really?”

Toby shot him a look that dared him to question his masculinity.

Margaret bobbed her head and lightly touched Toby’s arm. “If you’ll excuse us, your Lordship.”

He waved them off as he started to look CJ up and down.

“Now I know how the President feels,” Toby grumbled, glancing back over his shoulder. “I hope he didn’t offend you.”

“I’m fine,” she assured him. “Toby?”

“Mm.”

“Give me your hand.” She looked up at him, her face glowing.

“He’s moving?”

“She is,” Margaret offered firmly, pressing his hand to where their child was moving. She felt movement lower down and moved his hand.

“Wow!” He was practically bouncing up and down. “That’s our baby.”

“Yeah.” She cupped his cheek gently. “In in a few days I’m going to be proven right.”

“And if I’m right?” he asked smugly, his hand sliding to squeeze her bottom. “What do I get?”

She considered things for a moment. “Your biggest fantasy come true.”

A deep growl escaped his throat as he pondered the arrangement.

“Deal?”

“Deal,” he agreed.

“Come on, I want to show off the dress. And you have work to do.” She smiled and reached for his hand. “But I may get a headache later.”

The End

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