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Adagio Molto Espressivo |
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Author: Maeve Disclaimer: TWW belongs to AS, WB, and NBC. AKA not me – don’t sue. Spoilers: None - PG-13 AN: Margaret and Leo story. Born out of a
conversation about the The entire story was written in about an hour, listening to Beethoven. Honestly…I replayed
‘Spring – Violin Sonata
– Adagio molto espressivo’ over and over and over again while
writing this. It was to be one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever heard. Try and
find it if you can, I think it makes the story more fun. “I’m not going.” He gave his friend a good-natured glare. Leo let the glance turn into a smirk as the President tossed his glasses to his desk. Bartlet dropped his hands against his hips, voicing lifting loudly as he spoke. “You are going,” he waved a finger, “And you’re taking a woman with you.” Leo snorted, “No I’m not.” There was a breath between them before the President spoke, “I could order you to go.” “You could.” Leo nodded in amusement, knowing that he would somehow be forced into watching the Philadelphia Pops play Beethoven all evening. It was the sort of torture that Jed Bartlet reveled in. He had no problem with Pennsylvanians. He had no problem with Beethoven…no problem at all. Beethoven was probably one of his favorites. He did have a problem with Jed Bartlet playing ‘let’s get Leo a girl’. “I’m gonna.” Jed nodded, “Gonna have Debbie type it all up and everything, a Presidential order. I’m going to stamp it and sign it and post it on your wall. Leo McGarry must go to the ball.” “Symphony.” McGarry murmured with an amused grin. “And must take a date.” The President grinned, opening to door to the outer office with a maniacal grin, “Debbie c’mere – I need you to take a memo.” Leo just grinned, heading for his own office slowly. “I’m not going.” Bartlet laughed, answering in a sing-song tone, “Oh yes you are.” “He’s taking Margaret.” CJ stopped in the hall, her heels nearly tagging against the carpet. She turned swiftly towards her aide, glancing at Carol in amusement. She felt the smile warm between them. “Margaret?” she questioned softly. Carol nodded, “Yeah, asked her this morning. Ginger told me that Ed heard it.” CJ blinked, “What about The brunette shrugged easily, “I like Maggie better.” “Well,” the Press Secretary shrugged, “Yeah.” “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.” “Ouch.” Margaret grabbed her arm, evading the second smack from Donna’s direction. She eased behind her desk, breath dropped. “Tell you what?!” she tossed, rubbing the red mark on her arm. Margaret frowned and blinked at her friend in confusion. Donna’s hands settled on her hips, “That Leo asked you to the symphony.” “The “The Pops…yeah.” She shook her head, “He didn’t.” Donna arched a brow, “Ginger, Carol, CJ and Josh all seem to think he did.” Margaret just smiled slowly, “He asked me to go to his meeting with him - not the symphony. Someone must’ve heard him wrong.” “Oh.” The blonde aide rubbed a soothing hand over her friends arm, rubbing the spot where she’d playfully smacked her earlier. “Sorry Mags.” Margaret just laughed, “You really think Leo would ask me to Beethoven?” Her friend smiled slowly, “Some days I do.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” Margaret demanded. “That on some days, you’re both very obvious.” “Do you want me to get Ms. Kendall on the phone for you?” He watched the nearly disgusted glance of her eyes as she spoke the other woman’s name. Leo blinked at her slowly, a breath between them. He shook his head in a negative, standing slowly and moving towards her. “No.” Margaret sighed, dropping papers on his desk, “The President actually put out a memo Leo. You really do have to get a date.” “I have one.” He offered slowly. She blinked, stomach suddenly tight, “You do?” Leo nodded quietly, his hand reaching out to brush her back as he moved behind her, heading towards his book shelf. She refused the urge to press against his hand as he moved past. His fingers stroked lightly across her back, rubbing on the fabric of her shirt. Her body flushed when his hand left her. He pulled out a penal code book slowly from the shelving, catching her wondering glance when he turned back around. “Can I ask who?” she asked softly, voice dropped in pitch. He took an easy seat behind his desk again, “You.” “Excuse me?” her eyes grew wider. Leo shook his head, seated and glancing up with a knowing smile, “You don’t have plans do you?” She didn’t answer. God…the look on her face was priceless. He soaked in the flicker of amusement that passed her eyes, “Margaret?” “No.” she spoke softly, blinking down a shy glance.
“But I figured that you’d want “Don’t make assumptions about my love life Margaret.” He murmured slowly, flicking open the book with an easy hand. He tossed her up a knowing smirk, “Unless you’re a part of it.” “Excuse me?” her voice shook as she spoke the same words again. Leo let himself laugh softly, “Do you like Beethoven Margaret?” She blinked, “Yes.” “Well then I think you should go buy a dress.” “Liar!” “Ouch!” Margaret hit her back this time, smacking lightly against the other senior aide’s hand. Donna just grinned playfully, grabbing both the redhead’s hands and pulling her into the Deputy-Deputy Chief of Staff’s bullpen office. “You lied to me.” “No,” Margaret pointed with a laugh, “He asked after I talked to you. How am I gonna find a dress in a day?” Donna shook her head in a smile, “Talk to CJ. You need a really nice dress.” Margaret laughed, “No - I need a Valium.” “You have a dress?” She sighed heavily, flickering a glance towards the First Lady. Margaret shook her head in a no, amazed at how quickly gossip flew. She watched Abbey Bartlet cross her arms with a smile. “Leave early, get the dress, and meet me in the residence before dinner.” Margaret blinked up gratefully at the First Lady, “Dinner too?” “He didn’t tell you?” Abbey queried in amazement. Margaret swallowed hard, shaking her head with her fingers to her forehead. She drew a long deep breath, rubbing her temple to stave off the headache. Abbey squeezed her fingers warmly in support, “Leave now, I’ll go yell at him.” Margaret smirked, “Very loudly.” “Yes,” the First Lady laughed in humor, “Very loudly.” “This is my favorite part of the job.” Margaret laughed, taking the countless hangers of dresses that the Press Secretary handed over. CJ waved idly towards the dressing room, heading for another rack in the massive department store. She was sifting through all the blacks, entirely avoiding any colors. “I wanna see all of them Maggie, I don’t care if you like it or not.” “What if it’s too tight?” Margaret grinned and she stepped into the dressing room, closing the door. “Honey that’s the point.” In any case – she had a dress. “You look wonderful.” She felt her cheeks blush softly at the glance of Abbey Bartlet. Margaret shook the compliment away, waving the woman off with a careful hand. The other hand smoothed nervously against the black satin, her fingers trailing the tight waistline and skirt flare. “I feel…very nervous.” “You’ll love it.” Abbey smirked amusedly, dusting her fingers over Margaret’s bare shoulders. The pale skin flush against the heavy black of the fabric. Her red hair pulled up and back, low on her neck and twisted elegantly. “The concert part is going to be easy,” Abbey winked, “It’s dinner with Senator Barry and his wife that’ll kill you.” Margaret looked to her in something near fear. “I swear Lydia Barry is an absolute windbag, you’ll have no chance to speak at all this evening.” The First Lady grinned amusedly, putting in her jewelry. Margaret studied the smooth elegance of Abbey Bartlet’s deep maroon dress. The sheer fabric easy against the woman’s skin and full dark hair. She sighed softly, watching the way Mrs. Bartlet eased through the room in utter class. “That’s fine with me.” Margaret shook her head, fingering her own earrings worriedly. Abbey grinned, “I’d let you borrow some jewelry but I have the idea Leo’s already attended to that.” Margaret swallowed, “You’re kidding.” The First Lady laughed, “Oh…no. He has a real affection for Harry Winston.” She could swear Margaret’s face blanched pure white. He tried to ignore the shake of his hand while he put the necklace on her, his fingers running against the smooth fall of her hair. He chewed his bottom lip, forcing the clasp of the diamond chain to agree with him. “It has to go back in the morning.” He wavered her a smile when she fingered the jewels gently. He watched her chest heave slightly against the black fabric of the dress, eyes wide as she nodded. His voice was close, breath warm on her ear as he spoke to her. His hands had tripped along her arms. “So no boxing matches right?” she asked with an easy smirk. Leo grinned back, offering his arm as they moved out of the residence, “Neh, we’ll just take it off first.” She looked up fast with a smile and it made his chest tight, “This thing isn’t coming off until it absolutely has to.” His breath stalled, “No matter what you’re doing?” “No matter what I’m doing.” She smirked shyly, taking the arm he offered and looking straight ahead. Leo sighed, “Good to know.” Dinner had gone well until he’d touched her. Then it was going extremely well. “Honestly though, I just don’t see the point in the 43rd resolution. The trade sanctions are already doing their job, why should the embargo acts go under revision?” She blinked lazily while the President smiled into his Fettuccine, eyeing the babbling Lydia Barry in complacence. He faked a smirk of agreement and nodded, tossing a pained glance in McGarry’s direction. “The trade sanctions are doing their job,” she spoke without thinking, her body flushing warm with his fingers dancing on her back, “but the revision is to make sure they keep doing their job throughout the new administration.” Leo grinned amusedly, his fingers easing up her back, stroking lines and circles against the exposed skin of her neck. He nearly laughed at the look of put out horror on the face of the Senator’s wife. Both Bartlets were grinning as well and the President picked up the defense of Margaret’s argument, leaving his food alone for a chance to argue with the woman Abbey Bartlet had hailed as a windbag. Abbey Bartlet wasn’t wrong very often. “I said no boxing matches.” She shivered at his whisper, hot on her ear. Combined with the feeling of his fingers teasing at the nape of her neck, her skin tightened in goose bumps. His lips dropped against her ear, kissing like air. “Even verbal ones.” She turned her head slowly, eyes flashing in amusement, “Sorry, did I damage the diamonds?” Leo let out a soft chuckle as Bartlet rolled on in the conversation, his fingers trailing against her neck. He stroked over a pear cut stone and shook his head no. “They’re fine.” She smirked, “Good.” “So are you.” He whispered even quieter, watching her lit her drink. The glass paused in mid air, her hand slightly shaking. Margaret flashed a slow glance in his direction, brow arched in wonder. With a wide smile Leo took the glass from her fingers, half listening to the Senator’s wife while settling his redhead’s wine to the table. “Thank you.” She mouthed. He just smiled back, his arm still draped over her chair, fingers still stroking against warm skin. “Welcome.” He watched her breath slowly, eyes held tight to the concert before them, her lips in a comfortable smile. There was just enough light to see the contentment in her glance. Leo smiled stroking his hand down as the symphony hit a crescendo, his fingers tagged against her leg, slipping on the fabric of her dress. At first he thought she hadn’t noticed the movement, her eyes still trained on the orchestra, her body leaning into the soft hush of the violins. He held a breath, watching as her fingers started to fidget, rolling her hands together, and thumbs rubbing in palms. Oh she’d noticed. With a steady breath, violin solo resounding across the hall, he slipped his hand over hers, stilling the movements. He caught the smile that flashed across her face, and the way her body shifted back into her seat. He smiled too, sliding his hand open nearly drawing away. Margaret’s fingers tugged into his before he could let go of her hand. He tightened his fingers when the piano swept along with the violin; with a breath he dipped his head, pressing an easy kiss against her hair. Her eyes lifted to his slowly, “Thank you.” Leo blinked, “For what?” “This.” Her eyes flickered back to the orchestra as she whispered, their heads close together. “I expect to be repaid.” He said in humor. She just smiled ahead, squeezing her fingers tighter in his hand. “When’s the necklace have to be back?” “In the morning.” He answered, voice hushed in a whisper. Margaret nodded, her body dipping forward as the piece rolled in another crescendo, “I don’t wanna take it off, so I’ll just stay with you until you need it back.” “All night.” He whispered in agreement. Her only answer was her fingers squeezing tightly in his. The box stared at her from her desk the next morning. “Leo.” She swallowed hard, fingering the leather cover to the flat square box. He watched her fingers rake over the box from his doorway. “It didn’t wanna go back.” He offered quietly. She shook her head, “You didn’t.” His hand was flush against the arch in her back when he moved forward. He leaned against her, pulling up the box and handing it to her, still closed. They both knew exactly what it looked like. He had the insane memory of it around her throat as she’d whispered his name all night. There was no way it was going back to the jewelry store after slipping her neck all night while they were making love. He sighed softly, pressing the box towards her chest. “When I said I wanted to be repaid I didn’t mean…” he shook his head, eyes dark, “what we did last night.” Margaret smiled warmly, “Oh, that wasn’t your payment…that was for enjoyment.” He blinked, almost blushing when she clutched the box against her chest, eyes glittering in humor. He sighed softly, tapping his fingertips against the jewelry box. “So I still have a payment coming to me.” She leaned in, kissing him softly, “You’ve got something coming to you.” Leo laughed, “I like the sound of that.” His hands slipped at her waist, his mouth dragging against her forehead and into her hair. She smirked gently with him. “You would.” Click Leo and Margaret to send feedback:
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