Author: Maeve

Disclaimer: TWW belongs to AS, WB, and NBC, not me. Please don’t sue.

Spoilers: Five Votes Down, but not really.

AN: Leo and Maggie fic, funny Maggie believe me. I was just too hyper at 1AM.

I just need to not like her.

I need to dislike her.

Not hate her, nothing that drastic. I just can’t allow myself to like her, because then I’d feel terrible. I’d be angry with myself for touching him. I’d hate myself for letting him touch me. I’d feel shallow and undeserving, and trashy.

I’d feel like the sexpot secretary who lays out her boss on his desk. And so far – well so far that has definitely not happened. Not that I’m totally denying the possibility. I’d like to lay him out in certain areas of his office, the desk most certainly being one of them.

But I’ve always made sure that I didn’t like Jenny McGarry – O’Brien.

I just needed to dislike her, for my own sanity.

She was his first love I think. He talks about other women, but his eyes do that…thing, when he talks about Jenny. They soften, if it’s possible. His mouth wants to smile, and his eyes flash good memories. And then bad ones. It makes my head want me to be jealous. But at the same time, it makes my heart scream to just love him all the more.

So I’ve decided to never like her, but never hate her.

And he’s decided that we’ll always respect her.

Because he’s a gentleman.

"Come to bed."

His hands are warm, fingers easy on my back. The apartment dark and the hour – far too early. I sigh softly, meeting his fingers and leaning in, pressing a warm kiss to his cheek.

"I’m gonna stay up."

He sighs, "Margaret, come to bed with me."

Not tonight.

I can’t tonight.

I know what today is.

Happy Anniversary Mrs. Ex-McGarry.

"Leo, not tonight."

Sweet Jesus, he knows how to kiss the disagreement out of a woman. And he’s got hands that…wow, you got it. Bed? Where’s the bed? The hell with the bed, there’s a couch around here somewhere. Hell with that, the kitchen table’s pretty sturdy.

Leo McGarry you own me.

"Come to bed."

Sigh…yes sir.

"Okay."

"The alarm - "

"I shut it off." His chest rumbles against my back as he speaks.

God he’s warm in the morning. He’s cozy, and I could give a damn about getting up. I like it like this; his arms tugged tight, fingers in mine. His skin is smoother than I’d ever thought it would be. His breath slower than I’d imagined. His chest moves differently. His fingers feel stronger in mine.

"Thank you." I murmur, rolling slowly, tugging closer to his chest. His fingers are doing that thing on my back. God I love that. He’s such a tease.

"For what?" he whispers, breath catching in my hair.

He’s so cute when he kisses my hair like that, like I belong to him. I wanna belong to him, just him. No one else in the world can have me. Sold to the highest bidder. Bingo, Yatzee and freakin’ Uno –he owns me. He owns the deed and title to everything I’ve got.

I think it’s his voice, the little way he says my name. The way he touches me like he’s the only man in the world allowed to touch me.

Just him.

"I know what today is."

His eyes refuse mine, tripping over history with a sigh. He’s tugging his fingers in my hair, stroking through the loose locks. Another way of saying – this is mine.

He’s good at that. Control and possession.

Possession is nine tenths of the law.

I love law now.

His chest shudders, "Me too."

I blushed when I heard her voice.

Couldn’t help it. For some reason I assumed that by looking at me, she’d know what I’d been doing in her ex-husband’s sheets the evening before. The hours of her anniversary, I was doing unexplainable things to her husband.

Ex-husband,

Back to that trashy feeling.

"Hello, Margaret."

Deep breath, "Mrs. O’Brien."

Mrs. Leo…good god I’m in hell

Kill me…right now.

Please?

"Is he in?" God she’s so sweet. How can I not like this woman? Far too easily. Just remember why I can’t like her – Leo McGarry. The man that owns my emotions.

This could be so bad.

I nod softly, moving to the door quickly, refusing her eyes, "Yeah, let me get him for you."

Yes your Honor – I plead insanity.

So help me god, if they come out of that office hand in hand, I’ll beat her with a stapler. It’s way too much like a bad episode of Friends. I get him, so she can get him. Like a bad trade-in.

Sorry, Leo McGarry is not a 93’ Chevy Cavalier.

"Stop glaring at the phone."

I’m so not in the mood to deal with Donna right now.

"It glared at me first."

She snorts in laughter, "You are in a mood. Come get lunch."

What? She my mother?

"C’mon, Maggie, he’ll still be here when you get back." Her eyes are amused.

I’m not finding this funny. Why is this funny to her? I’ll tell you why, because Josh Lyman is head over heels for her, and Amy Gardner is no real damn threat. This happens to be the ex-wife.

I’m on thin ice here. She could skate the same figure eight for a week and still have a foot and a half of ice. A whole damn lake full.

Okay…bad metaphor…analogy…whatever. God, Toby would kill me.

"Yeah and she will be too."

Donna shrugs, eyes soft, "Mags…come on. It’s a pie day."

I pout, "I’m not drowning my sorrows until I see the wedding plans."

"You’re pouting."

Oh he would know, he does it often enough.

"I’m not pouting."

He’s watching me move back through my office, eyes refusing his. I can’t look at him right now, not knowing exactly how he spent the last hour in his closed office with his ex-wife on their anniversary…okay I need to take a breath.

Inhale…exhale.

"Looks like you’re pouting."

Sigh, another breath. "I’m really not, I think you’re imagining things."

Don’t you touch me Leo McGarry, that’s entirely unfair. Don’t you…oh Jesus. He’s a bastard. A bastard with really…god, really nice hands. And I have no idea where he learned to kiss a woman like that. It had to be some, make-out school or something. He was a straight A student, believe me.

"Okay, I’m not pouting anymore."

He grins to me over my desk, "So you admit to it."

He makes me laugh, "Yeah, I admit defeat."

"She’s still my ex, and you’re still my Margaret."

Praise the Lord and pass the ammunition.

I smile warmly, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, "Good to know."

He’s grinning, voice dropping against my ear, "Come to bed."

"Leo!"

Oh hell yes.

"I’ve got a couch, and a desk." His voice trails my ear and neck.

Back to the goddamn couch…and the desk.

I admit defeat.