*~*~*~*

Autumn seemed to turn to winter almost overnight and December had arrived, cold and overcast. Margaret’s pregnancy had become the talk of the West Wing as she gained weight in abundance, to the point that the only clothes she could wear were Toby‘s shirts and leggings. Tired, and no longer able to handle the long hours, she had approached Maggie Reynolds and they had taken the decision that she should begin maternity leave.

“Okay, now remember, Leo likes to have his messages and the Post before Staff. The Times phone number is in the Rolodex. He calls them on average twice a week. Staff is at eight so you’ll have twenty minutes to check his schedule and make sure he has the papers he needs,” Margaret explained, gathering the mail from her desk. “Right, let’s do this.”

She walked through the connecting door to Leo’s office, “Good morning, Leo.“

“Have you seen. . .?“

“It’s under your coffee cup,“ Margaret sighed. “I’m going to be around but Patti’s officially in charge from this morning.“

Leo’s head shot up, his eyes wide. “Today’s your last day?“

“We’ve been over this. Maggie thinks I should rest, she seems to think I have a stressful job. Can’t think why. Patti’s been here for two weeks now and she has everything under control.“ Margaret smiled at the short blonde at her side.

Patti smiled back weakly, nibbling on her bottom lip. “Here are your messages, and the Post.”

“Thank you, Patti.”

Margaret folded her arms across her navy maternity dress. “I finished the gift shopping so you just need to write the cards, okay?”

“Yeah.”

“LEO!”

“I need to write the cards.” He rolled his eyes in mock annoyance. “We’ve been doing this for nearly ten years, I think I have the routine by now.”

“And buy Mal’s gift and . . .,” she glanced at Patti.

“I have your suggestions, thank you,” he replied, avoiding her gaze. He didn’t mention he had his own ideas of what to buy Carol for Christmas, some red lacy underwear, but couldn’t quite bring himself to walk into Agent Provocateur.

“Okay.” Margaret bobbed her head and headed back to her office. “My shower is at one, and I won’t be coming back to the office.”

Patti rocked on the balls of her feet. “Is there anything else you need, Mr. McGarry?” she asked after a lengthy pause.

Leo looked up from shuffling his messages, “Call me Leo.”

“Yes, Sir. Is there anything else?”

“No.”

Patti turned on her heels and scurried out of the room. Closing the door behind her, she let out a deep breath.

“Remember what I told you.”

“Okay.”

“Leo’s all hot air, he really is a teddy bear when you get to know him,” Margaret commented, tossing her belongings into a box.

“How long does that take?” Patti asked in a timid voice.

“Ten years.” She smiled at the groan that escaped her replacement’s lips.

*~*~*~*

Abbey appeared in the doorway to Margaret’s office at ten to one and cleared her throat, “It’s time to go.”

“Ma’am?” Margaret squeaked, trying and failing miserably to get to her feet. “I’m sorry.” She lowered herself back onto the chair and shrugged.

“I’m sure Jed had told you many times that you are exempt from that nonsense. I thought you could ride with me. Can’t have the guests of honor waddling there,” Abbey grinned, motioning to an agent to help.

“Thank you, Ma’am.”

The agent helped her to her feet and held her as she slipped her feet back into her shoes.

“Looking forward to a rest before the babies come?”

“I’m hoping they’re gonna be here soon,” Margaret stroked her stomach. “I don’t think I can handle two more months.”

“I’ll remind you of that three months from now when you’re up all night. Ready to go?”

Margaret bobbed her head and followed the First Lady through the corridors of the West Wing.

******

CJ was standing on the sidewalk when the limo pulled up outside the restaurant. When discussions had started regarding a baby shower for Margaret, Toby had knocked discreetly on CJ’s door and asked if she would host it. After much pouting and mumbling about female bonding, he’d practically begged her. For some reason she’d agreed. Toby’s suggestion of a sports theme however had been ditched in favor of something more practical, and more to Margaret‘s taste.

“Hey,” CJ said, moving to aid Margaret from the car and squeezing her arm. “Everyone else is here.”

“You really didn’t have to do this,” Margaret sighed. “We could have just ordered in pizza or something.”

CJ waved her off and ushered her through the door and across the restaurant. “We have the back room.”

Tears pricked at Margaret’s eyes as she glanced around the room and caught sight of the faces. Her hormones had been steadily getting worse and Toby had practically banned her from watching anything involving animals or babies. The sight of all the senior assistants at the table had her bawling like a baby. Mallory, Lynette and Zoey had also been invited and were gathered at one end of the table.

“Okay, take a seat, we’ll order some food and crack open the cider,” Abbey said, indicating the agents should move to the side of the room. “Then we’ll get to the good stuff.”

“With all due respect, Ma’am, we aren’t talking sex with you in the room,” CJ groaned.

“Who said anything about sex, Claudia Jean? I was talking about gifts,“ Abbey shook her head. “Is there something you’d care to share?”

“No, Ma’am.”

“Did someone mention food?” Margaret asked, lowering herself into a chair and winking at CJ.

For the next forty minutes the women sat down to pizza and pasta as the conversation turned to the men of the West Wing and the pending arrivals.

“Okay, everyone,” CJ announced. “As you are all aware, except Margaret of course, the theme of the shower is Necessities.”

“Necessities?” Margaret asked, looking confused.

CJ lifted a box off the floor and pushed it across the table towards her. “Toby wanted a sports theme. But I thought you’d prefer something more practical.”

Margaret began peeling off the brightly colored paper and smiled when she saw the sea grass basket. Gently, she lifted the lid to reveal a selection of shampoos, soaps and toiletries for the babies. “Thank you, CJ.”

“Well, I thought with three of them, you’d need a never ending supply.”

“Us next,” Ginger declared, handing over a gift bag, topped with yellow tissue paper. “This is from Bonnie, Carol and I.”

A collective “ahh,” sounded around the table as Margaret lifted three matching onesies from the bag then three pairs of white booties.

“Aren’t they cute?” Bonnie sighed.

“This is from mom and me,” Mallory grinned handing over a small envelope. “It’s a voucher for a diaper service. They pick them up, wash them and drop them back. We thought it might make life a little easier.”

“Thanks,” Margaret said, her eyes filling up. “You are all too kind.”

The gifts continued to mount up on the table as they women oozed and ahhed. The Bartlet girls had bought a selection of stuffed animals, a necessity they decided. Lynette had gifted a box of diapers and there were a selection of bibs and hats from other staffers.

“Okay,” Abbey grinned, indicating to her assistant to bring over the large rectangular box. “This isn’t exactly a necessity but I wanted you to have something nice for after the birth.”

Once the lid had been removed and the tissue paper separated, Margaret lifted out a red sheer negligee. She flushed pink and glanced at CJ.

CJ shrugged, “It was better than Toby’s suggestion.”

“Don’t tell me. Teach your child baseball,” she laughed. “He’s convinced we’re having three boys and wants to make sure their formative education is taken care of.”

Donna scrunched up her face and slid a long thin box down the table. “Maybe, this isn’t a good idea then.”

“But you bought me a crib set,” Margaret chided.

“Josh and Sam.”

That was explanation enough and the women all leaned back as Margaret opened the box and started to laugh. Wedged inside were a small bat, a ball, a blow up football and a basketball hoop for the bath. The boys were certainly covering all the bases. She was still giggling when the limo arrived to take her home.

*~*~*~*

Toby parked on the street and stared out the windshield. It was Saturday and as busy as life became, he always tried to make it to Temple. The morning’s sermon had touched a cord for him, giving him pause for thought. His Rabbi had spoken of new beginnings and the importance of family. It was almost as if it had been written just for Toby.

Since his first date with Margaret, Toby had seen his life change for the better. Whereas the campaign had given him something to cling to, to escape the failure that was his life, Margaret had given him something better. He was soon to have the family he had always dreamed of, albeit a lot sooner than he planned, but he wasn’t going to turn down a home run. The last few months had also shown him he had the ability to love, something, which he thought, was impossible after Andi.

There was only one more thing he wanted, the thing that would make his life complete, and that was to walk up the aisle with Margaret. Of course, he had yet to figure out a way of proposing. He wanted it to be un-clichéd and unconventional, which meant a dinner and roses wasn’t going to work.

His reverie was broken by a light tapping on the window.

Margaret was standing on the pavement in a pair of maternity leggings and his well-worn Yankees sweatshirt. “Did you get them?”

His lips quirked up into a small smile as he opened the door. “A dozen raisin muffins for the lady.”

She grabbed the bag and turned on her heel, leaving Toby standing on the curb staring after her. He still hadn’t gotten use to her quirkiness, or her newly acquired obsession for muffins, and something told him he never would.

******

Toby scratched his head and stared down at the instruction sheets scattered around the nursery floor. He’d been trying for an hour to construct the first crib, to no avail. In amongst the instruction leaflets were various pieces of wood and screws, not a single one connected to any other.

“How’s it going?“ Margaret asked from the doorway. “Can I help?“

He growled something inaudible.

“Okay, well I’ll be downstairs wrapping gifts, if you want me,“ she offered cheerfully, waddling back out of the room.

An hour later he stood back and appraised his handiwork. One crib finished, two to go. Not to mention a frieze to put around the walls and three mobiles to hang. He groaned and glanced at his watch. Tossing the screwdriver to one side, he headed downstairs to the den.

Margaret sat on the sofa in the conservatory. So far the room was bare, just a sofa and a few potted plants, but she had big plans for it after the babies were born. Toby’d had it built as an anniversary present to her. He’d surprised her by remembering their five month anniversary, and she’d watched in awe as the glass structure had gone up over the following few weeks. Eventually it would be a playroom, somewhere for her and the children to play, but for now it stood largely unused.

Unable to walk very far in her present condition, Margaret had done most of her shopping on the web. The gifts now lay scattered on the couch in various states of wrap as bags of decorations and wrapping paper littered the floor. Margaret knew she had gone overboard this year, their first Christmas/Hanukkah together, but she had wanted everything to be perfect and being frugal seemed somehow unimportant.

The sound of the television drifted from the other side of the house and she shook her head. It was predictable that Toby would be in the den rather than preparing for the pending arrivals. He had been tied up with work for weeks, trying to get caught up before the birth, and she knew he would be gone most of January writing the Inauguration speech. This was their last weekend to make sure they were ready.

Groaning, Margaret pulled herself off the sofa and shuffled in search of Toby.

“What are you watching?”

“The World Series.”

“I thought that’d finished,” she commented, scrunching her face in disgust.

“Yeah.” He offered nothing further for a few minutes then yelled, “Look at that curve ball.”

“Toby, the cribs?”

He waved his hand in her general direction. “I’ll get back to it in a little bit. Foul ball!”

Margaret shook her head sadly, and mentally listed all the things she wanted to do to the network director who decided to play the reruns of the World Series two weeks before Christmas.

By the time Toby had dragged himself away from the television, it was dinnertime and Margaret had dropped off to sleep on the sofa.

Toby smiled to himself as he covered her up with a blanket and started to make dinner.

*~*~*~*

The rain had started in the early hours of Sunday morning as a gentle patter against the window panes. Margaret had spent a restless few hours as the babies moved in their sleep, before Toby had climbed out of bed and disappeared downstairs to make her hot milk. They had spent the next twenty minutes, sitting up in bed drinking warm milk and eating cookies before Margaret had fallen back to sleep. She had slept until well after Toby had slipped out of the house.

It was only when the rain had started again that she had awoken to an empty bed and dark, overcast skies.

By the time Toby had arrived home with Josh in tow the rain had started to fall in a sheet, the wind whipping it up against the house.

Donna and CJ had arrived shortly after and now they were all gathered beneath the glass roof as lightening lit up the sky.

Margaret watched as CJ and Donna decorated the six-foot tree that the two men had disappeared at dawn to buy. She longed to help but her rounded frame and over attentive boyfriend were having none of it. The tree had come as a surprise, once more reducing her to floods of tears. Toby hadn’t told her he was going, instead wanting to surprise her. If anyone thought it strange that the only two Jewish people among them were the most enthusiastic about the trimmings, they hadn’t said anything. Then again they had all celebrated the last night of Hanukkah together too. It seemed with Toby and Margaret’s relationship the whole West Wing had taken to celebrating both religious holidays.

Carols drifted out from the kitchen as Toby pottered around making lunch for everyone and Josh loitered against the doorframe.

“Where did you get the decorations?” Donna asked, hanging the glass baubles on the lower branches.

“Toby went shopping and bought everything,” Margaret announced, smiling as CJ did a sudden turn.

“Toby? Scrooge, Bah Humbug went shopping?”

Margaret bobbed her head, “Decorations, tree, and he’s ordered a turkey. He’s even been on with the Butterball Hotline to find out how to cook it. But please don‘t ask what stuffing he‘s using.” She absentmindedly rubbed her stomach.

“Lunch is ready,” Josh announced, bouncing into the conservatory. “Wow Margaret, you’ve gotten big.“

“Mr. Tact and Diplomacy strikes again,” Donna mumbled, standing up and crossing the room.

“What?”

Donna slapped his on the arm as she brushed passed him, shaking her head. “Idiot.”

“What?” he whined again. “I only meant. . .she’s put on weight. . .”

“Quit while you’re ahead,” Toby growled, walking to Margaret’s side and taking her hand. “I made soup and sandwiches, Red.”

“And?”

“CJ brought death by chocolate for dessert,” he grinned, shooting Josh a look. “And there’s squirty cream in the fridge.” His hand rubbed her lower back as his eyes wandered across her body.

“Guys, I’m in the room.”

“So, disappear,” Toby snorted, his eyes never leaving his girlfriend’s body.

“I’m going,” Josh grumbled. “Donna!”

“Thank you for doing all this,” Margaret whispered, slipping her hand into his. “I know how you feel about Christmas.”

“Does this make you happy?”

“Yes.”

“Then it was worth it.” Toby squeezed her hand. “Sam’s coming over later to help finish the cribs and I think Leo and Carol might drop by for dinner.”

Margaret pressed her lips to his and pulled back. “I love you.”

“I’m trying to eat here, “Josh whined, carrying a bowl of steaming hot soup. “Ouch.”

Donna removed her thumb and finger from his earlobe and dropped onto the couch. “It’s love, Josh. Not sex, not power dating, not falling into bed, but love. Who knows maybe one day you’ll experience it yourself.”

“It’s sickening.”

CJ threw her scrunched up napkin in his direction, narrowly catching his nose.

“Ow.”

“Get over it. Look at it this way, while they’re smooching, mi amour, you’ll have three new cohorts. Soon there’ll be three little playmates with your IQ,” CJ laughed.

“The triplets may have a slight edge there,” Donna mumbled.

“Josh, you can’t spend the rest of your life sitting on the bench, waiting for the right woman to fall into your arms,” Toby growled. “There comes a time when you have to step up to the plate. And, maybe you’ll be lucky and score a home run too.”

“And you call me unromantic,” Josh whined to no one in particular.

“Yeah.” Toby released Margaret and disappeared back into the kitchen, reappearing with a tray of food and lowering it to Margaret’s lap.

Margaret winced as she shifted position.

“Want me to rub your back, Red?” Toby asked, walking to the back of the couch. “Here?”

“Up and to the left. Ooh, that’s it,” she moaned.

Josh made a face. “You know, I’m suddenly not hungry.”

“In that case, wanna rub my back?” Donna asked, grinning and batting her eyelashes.

“Okay,” he replied eagerly, jumping to his feet and causing the rest of the room to fall into peals of laughter.

*~*~*~*

Margaret rolled over in bed, her burgeoning frame filling the warm space Toby had recently vacated. Her right hand dropped to rest on her stomach while the other pulled the pillow, his scent still lingering, to her face and smiled in her sleep.

Toby tucked the comforter around her shoulders and kissed her nose, before heading off to work. It was the first day she wouldn’t be at the office, and he’d already checked his mobile battery and the spare twice, just in case. Their last visit with Maggie Reynolds had indicated the babies had dropped slightly but that was two weeks ago. Now all they had to do was wait, and worry.

******

“Hey Red.”

“Toby,” Margaret groaned. “You don’t need to phone every hour. I’ll call if anything happens.”

He leaned back in his chair and allowed a rare smile to flicker across his face. “I had a free moment and wanted to see what you were doing.”

“Cleaning, Toby.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, then I’m going to walk to the store on the corner,” she said, hanging the dishtowel up.

“I’m not sure. . .”

“TOBY!”

“Okay. Talk to you later.” He dropped the phone to its cradle and rolled his eyes.

Margaret smiled to herself as she pottered around the house. Toby’s calls were coming like clockwork and she wasn’t missing work at all. Not that she could with Leo phoning every couple of hours and the girls phoning to check on her progress. If anything she was taking a walk to get some peace. She picked up her cell phone and tucked it into her purse before heading out for her stroll.

******

“Red, I’m home,“ Toby called, dropping his laptop in the hallway and shrugging out of his overcoat.

“Great, I’ve just ordered take out,“ she announced, appearing in the doorway in an oversized T-shirt, her robe pulled until it met across her bump.

“Lemon chicken?”

“Red Thai curry.” She rubbed her belly absentmindedly. “And I rented a couple of movies.”

“Titanic?”

“Scream 3 and I Know What You Did Last Summer.”

“Scary movies, Margaret?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and smiling. “I thought only sap was allowed in his house.”

“It’s 28 weeks and counting, Toby. I wanna have the babies,” she sighed. “I spoke to Maggie she suggested sex, spicy food or shock, so I figured try the last two and if all else fails we have a back up.”

He blinked once and released her.

Margaret rolled her eyes.

“You do realize that the movies are gonna keep you up all night.”

“Think of it as a trial run for the next few years,” she laughed. “Anyway, get changed, dinner’ll be here soon.”

They spent the evening on the couch, Margaret’s head buried in his shoulder as she watched the movies from behind her fingers. Toby held her tightly, smiling as he heard the first gentle snores. Lightly, he nudged her arm and helped her walk upstairs and into bed.

******

“Margaret,” Toby called, putting one foot on the floor and climbing out of bed. “Margaret.”

“In here.”

Toby padded towards the bathroom and opened the door. “What’s up? Couldn’t you sleep, honey? I told you the movies were a bad idea.”

Margaret looked up from her position on the floor and shook her head. She involuntarily gripped the toilet seat as pain shot through her body.

“Is it time?” he asked, shuffling on the balls of his feet and rubbing his naked scalp.

“Bet your ass it is,” she yelled.

“Oh.” He wasn’t sure what to do. Her bag was packed and in the hall closet, he had three different routes mapped to the hospital, but he wasn’t sure what he should do first. The shuffling stopped as he began to pace between the bedroom door and the bathtub, his hands waving through the air as he muttered incoherently.

“Toby?” Margaret called through gritted teeth. “You’re freaking me out here.”

“We should get you to the hospital. Phone Abbey. Get hold of Maggie. . .,” he trailed off at her smirk. “What?”

“Perhaps you should get dressed first,” she grinned. “We have plenty of time.”

“It’s going to be fine.” Which sounded much more reassuring than he felt.

“There’s going to be pain, Toby. Blood, screaming, and then they’re going to pull something the size of a melon from a hole the size of a golf ball. The hell it’s going to be fine.”

He chuckled as he leaned down to kiss the top of her head. “Actually Red, they’re gonna pull three.”

“You’re finding this funny, Foul Ball?” she asked, her eyes darkening as she struggled to get up off the floor.

“No,” he mumbled, trying to keep a straight face. “I’m going to get dressed now, and phone Abbey.”

“Okay.”

“Any message for her?”

“Yeah, tell her it’ll be a rainy day in hell before I do this again.”

Toby shook his head and allowed a small grin to cross his face. “Just think by morning, it’ll all be over.”

“You’d better hope so,” she moaned, gripping the bathtub as the next contraction ripped through her body. “Or I won’t be the only one in agony.”

There was something in the way she was eyeing his groin that told him it was time to get out of the bathroom. He shuffled into the bedroom and picked up the phone. With the receiver tucked into the crook of his neck, he began to get dressed.

From what he had read, the labour had yet to reach transition, which meant it was going to be a long night. Margaret was going to need him to be there every step of the way and he was going to be, hopefully for the full nine innings. That was if he didn’t end up on the deck at the first sight of blood.

The End