The night wasn’t made for sleep. Not for him. He’d not ever felt the need to really sleep in the nighttime. The shadows were meant for silence and thought. They were dark for the sole purpose of being dark, and mysterious. Evening was blinking twilight and beauty. The night was thick with sounds, and fear. Black with breath, love, hurt and sex. It was wrought in inky darkness that begged to be explored, but screamed for a fight.

The shadows were too dark for him to sleep.

And there were things in the darkness that haunted him still.

But there were things in the shadows that had his name across them.

And she was one of them.

"Stop staring at me."

He blinked, rolling onto his side in the bed, his eyes roving flashing white skin as she moved across the bedroom. Leo brushed his hand over his face, scrubbing at tired eyes. She was gloriously naked, stalking teasingly across the room, and telling him not to look at her.

When hell froze over.

He’d put his eyes where ever the hell he wanted.

"Shut up." He murmured and watched her grab her nightgown, pushing back the black cotton sheet.

Leo reached out, grabbing the nightgown before she could lift it over her head. He pulled it from her fingers and sat up in the bed, pulling her fingers tightly down, moving her onto her knees on the bed. He lifted his lips to press hers insistently.

She didn’t kiss him at first, and he knew it was because of their earlier argument. He groaned softly against her lips, begging her to respond. His fingers moved from her hands up her arms, then to her sides. He felt her shiver under persistent fingers, smiling in victory as she shuddered, her tongue pressing fast against his. Leo pulled his mouth from hers slowly, his eyes blinking past hers in the darkness. She shivered again when his hands stroked down the skin of her sides, moving back up under her rib cage.

"Leo."

"Shut up Margaret." He mumbled, pushing his lips into her neck, dragging her body to lay back on the bed.

She wouldn’t win this. If she hadn’t wanted him to take her to bed, she’d have tossed him his pillow and a blanket and pointed to the couch. She’d have worn some damn clothes while readying for bed. He was gonna end the feud they’d started earlier that evening. It was gonna be done.

He was so full of shit…and he knew it.

This was gonna make it worse.

Her hands slid across his shirted back and he knew that he didn’t care how much worse it got. Her breath was heavy on his ear, a soft whimper of loss as he tumbled his hand across her bare stomach. She shuddered hot breath across his cheek when his hands flattened on her abs and skidded up past her breasts.

"Hate me in an hour. Yell at me, scream at me, beat me." His mouth hit her jaw, "But damn it just shut up."

Margaret shifted against him, lifting a hard knee against his thigh. He froze a moment when she nudged her bare skin against his cotton pj’s. Her fingers were tugging hard at his shirt in silence, for once complying with his bedroom demands. He sat up, sliding his knees on the bed at her sides, yanking off the shirt fast and moving back over her.

"Can I say something?" she begged gently.

Leo groaned, sliding needy fingers over her stomach and across to her hips. "Rather you didn’t."

"It’s not bad." She murmured, arching hard when his mouth dipped to her throat and then down.

"Fine."

She moaned when his fingers teased across her thighs, "I don’t think me being the only one naked is fair."

Leo groaned, "I don’t care."

"Leo - "

"Margaret I’m the Chief of Staff," the power trip did nothing for her, and she just blinked in the shadows, shuddering as his fingers teased, "just do as I say. Shut up."

She did, and he found her all the more attractive for it. She was suddenly very much his, and very submissive. He was almost scared by her compliance – it wasn’t the usual Margaret. She was usually teasing and stubborn, light and fresh. He found her dark and brooding, but hungry for the same thing he was starved for. Silent sex.

She lifted her hands, stroking her fingernails over his back, digging softly into his skin when his mouth hit the spot of heat between her breasts, his fingertips running hard over her skin. He was tugging her body closer, forcing her to mold into his form. Her hands slid off his skin, and skirted the waist of his pants, nudging at them in discouragement. She was still trying to get them off when he slid his hand up the sensitive skin of her thighs, tripping past to touch her quickly. Her hips snapped hard in mild surprise, and a harsh moan escaped her throat.

His movements were rushed, stroking over her with a sudden need for her to explode in his arms. He needed her shaking and vulnerable, and totally open before he could forgive her for the fight. Before he could forgive himself for their fight.

He touched her hard, forcing her to peak quickly and without the gentle touch she knew him so well for. She stayed true to his stipulations and arched hard in a strangled silence, her fingernails digging hard into his forearms. Her forehead pressed against his shoulder, breath choked to his bare skin. After a brief rush of breath, and a moment of still, he heard her tears across their flushed skin. She sobbed softly against his skin, pushing his hand from her body.

And he suddenly realized why they spoke to each other while they made love. He understood their words and soft sounds of gentle care. Because the darkness between them was terrorizing. It was scary and painful…and he’d forced her into a deadly silence. He’d been wrong…she hadn’t needed the quiet.

She’d been afraid of the silence.

The silence was what carried the darker side of Leo McGarry, and she’d not touched that part of him in a long time. The darkness reminded her of glassy eyes under drugged mornings. Binges where he came to her smelling of whiskey and thick scotch. Of passing moments where he’d been in pain, and she’d been in hurt.

The silence brought it back with a vengeance.

"Jesus Margaret I’m sorry." He rushed, feeling her shudder down off her peak.

She didn’t move, and he knew in that moment that he’d not yet been forgiven. Her fingers skidded off his arms and he felt her pull away from him. Leo sobbed to himself as she rolled away from him, forcing his hands away from her.

"Baby," he tried to touch her skin, and his body screamed in hurt when she flinched, "I’m sorry."