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Snowfall
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Author: Jen Fisher aka Docfraiser8

Spoilers: Jenny, Leo’s drinking problems

Disclaimer: Not mine…but I’m hoping for X-mas.

Feedback: Yes please God! Sorsha16@hotmail.com


Her eyes were awfully wide. Leo nearly laughed at the soft expression of confusion in her glance. He sighed and caught her attention with his voice.

"Margaret?"

"You really want me to go with you?" there was disbelief in her tone, and slight worry in her stature.

"Yeah," he lowered his voice, "I really do."

The office was dark with the late night shadows filtering in the window. His lamps were mostly turned off, and his coat was already slung on his wide shoulders. McGarry sighed softly, looking to the tall woman before him. She was wary of his offer. Margaret’s eyes narrowed and she studied him in the shadows.

"Give me a few minutes to finish up?" she asked gently.

He nodded in silent agreement, allowing her to move off and finish up her work. As he pulled on his scarf he let his eyes trail to the darkened window, watching the fat snowflakes flutter to the ground. He picked up his briefcase and transferred out his phone.

"Margaret I’m stopping in the Oval Office," he called to her gently, "I’ll meet you in a minute."

Her reply was lost on him as he wandered into Bartlet’s office. Leo smiled small as he glanced on his friend. The man was leaned over his desk, glasses held to his eyes and his brow furrowed.

"Merry Christmas Mr. President." He offered lightly as way of a greeting.

"You too Leo," Jed glanced up, relaxing back into his seat, "You going to the Wall?"

"Got to." The Chief of Staff nodded a weak smile, his eyes still slightly sad.

"Do me a favor?" Bartlet queried in a hushed tone.

"Sure."

"Stop at Mrs. Landingham’s boys will ya?" there was slight sadness in the man’s eyes.

Leo nodded, not daring to reply with sound. It seemed too hushed and quiet a moment to ruin. The two men glanced at each other a few moments, before Bartlet looked back to his own work. He stared at it desolately a moment before slumping into his chair.

"I think I’m gonna go spend the rest of the evening with Abbey." He offered.

"The girls coming in tomorrow?" he asked as the President began gathering up his paperwork, shoving it to it’s temporary home on his desk.

"Zoey’s in the residence now. The other two are meeting us in Manchester in the morning." Jed grinned, "You should come have Christmas dinner with us."

"Mr. President…" Leo shook his head in a negative, knowing they played this game every year. And every year he said no thank you.

"I’d rather not have this picture in my head of you sitting by yourself on Christmas, eating some terrible concoction that you ordered in from room service." Bartlet gave him an accusatory glance, "besides, Abbey told me to get you there for dinner."

"I actually have plans for Christmas," he tried to hide the shy smile on his lips, "so I guess it’s a moot point."

"Really?" the look of excitement in Jed Bartlet’s eyes worried him some. Leo glared him down, hoping he wouldn’t be interrogating him supposedly in the name of friendship.

"Mmm." Leo nodded, heading towards the door with the President.

"With who?"

Leo rolled his eyes at the New Hampshire native. He arched a brow and shook his head negatively; refusing to answer – knowing it would lead to rumours. The President of the United States was a brilliant man…he was also a brilliant gossip. Whatever Jed Bartlet knew, Abigail Bartlet knew. Zoey Bartlet knew. As did Charlie Young, and Delores Landingham, and most of the other assistants on staff. It was a small White House world after all.

He wouldn’t put Margaret through that.

She was too important.

"Why won’t you tell me?" the tone of Bartlet’s voice changed to a teasing one. He grinned to his Chief of Staff. He had already sent Charlie home, upon threat of dismemberment. Mrs. Landingham had only just left, and the other secretaries were on their way out.

"Because you’re a gossip." Leo tossed in return, making the corner back to his own office. Margaret was waiting patiently at her desk, flipping through errant paperwork. He smiled softly at the sight.

"Margaret." He lifted her gaze with his voice, "You ready?"

She nodded and filed her papers in her top drawer. Locking it she stood and flicked off the desk lamp. He noticed her coat was tucked tight around her body already, scarf and gloves tucked in her pockets.

"You better put those on, it’s freezing out."

He felt Bartlet’s stare on his back, and he knew the man had put two and two together. He sighed as she smiled to him, walking in their direction. Jed smacked him on the shoulder, glaring at him good-naturedly.

"Bring her with you." He exclaimed gently, nodding to Margaret.

She stared at them both in mild confusion and he shook it away gently, offering his arm. She took it quietly and followed him after the President out the door.

Leo grinned maniacally to his friend; "I wouldn’t subject her to that Jed."


She was nervous the whole evening. He caught her fidgeting in the car ride, her hands wringing in her lap. Leo gently laid his own hand over hers; his eyes still out the window on the light snow. He felt her relax her fingers beneath his and he laced their hands together. With a sigh he looked to her, breathing slow as the car made it’s way across the Washington Mall.

The Christmas lights were too harsh against the dark night, and she turned her eyes instead to him. Margaret squeezed his fingers lightly and smiled when his gaze danced upon her. He returned the smile, but his was weak and short-lived.

She leaned in softly, settling her head against his shoulder for a moment. When she went to move her head away, his lips pressed against her forehead. She left her temple against his wool covered shoulder, relaxing against him. Leo moved his hands out of her and wrapped her into his side, snaking his arm around her. Margaret shifted closer to him, but said nothing.

It wasn’t the time to talk.


She was cold. Really cold. And yet, it didn’t bother her, not as much as the sight of his shoulder slumped, and his forehead pressed against the wall. She had watched him trace names, too many names. He had let his fingertips fall to four already. His brother, where they had spent the most time, and she had been the most worried. His friends, a very hushed and disjointed point in the evening. Now they had stopped at the very middle of the Wall, where it bent to a corner. His hand lifted and he traced two names, not very far apart. The Landingham twins.

Margaret watched as his other hand lifted to carry the cross over his forehead and chest. His lips murmured in a soft prayer and it killed her emotionally. She held her breath and he traced the letters again. After a few moments of silence he stepped back, his body slowly nearing hers. The redhead watched, not daring touch him, for fear it would snap him from his revelry. Her eyes studied the figure of a tired man, his shoulders and body shuddered down, his head dipped, eyes closed. The snow had fallen to his head and shoulders as well, seemingly weighing him down even more. His coat ruffled a bit as the wind picked up around them and he finally turned to her, sadness glazed in his eyes.

He offered both hands and she took them steadily, linking her fingers in his loosely. Leo pulled her to him, tucking her cold hands under his coat and he wrapped her in his arms. He felt her sink her shivering body against his chest, and he wondered if she would warm him any. He doubted it. He was far too cold.

Leo pressed his face in the crook of her neck, lifting a shuddering breath into his chest, relying on her to hold him close. The ritual was so draining, so emotionally grating…he needed her to hold him.

To hold him up.

Margaret was always the one to hold him up. She ran his life, while he was too drunk to care. She held his marriage together, as long as she could. It was her work that got him through all those years, and her tears that made him hurt the most.

When Jenny had cried…he’d gotten angry. The twisted sort of anger where love is concerned.

When Margaret had cried…he’d felt ashamed. The twisted sort of shame where love is concerned.

He pulled from her body after a moment, looking purposely into her eyes. The glance he found showed nothing of shame or anger, only worry.

Concern.

She watched as he sighed and dropped his hand, palm up and offered to her. She slid her hand into his, her fingers tight between his. He pressed a kiss to her temple and led her down the well-worn sidewalk.

Silently as he stared at all those names.


She was cold again. It was dark, and the bed was cold. Margaret lifted her hand to brush his side of the mattress, finding it cool and empty. She sighed, dropping her arm across his pillow. Silently wondering at his where abouts, she blinked at the clock. Four in the morning…Merry Christmas Margaret.

She sighed, shifting the blankets off to go and find him. Tucking her pajamas tighter she slipped her feet from the bed, a shiver trembling her chin. The lanky woman stretched her legs and stood, ready to search him out.

Startled, she stopped short. His shadow was in the window, dark against the glass vision of snowfall. He wasn’t moving and it worried her a bit. As quietly as she could she stepped behind him. She made a soft noise in her throat, letting him know she was near. His body jumped a bit and she knew, that he knew she was there.

Her hand a bit shaky, she reached out.

When she turned him, she found something that she’d never expected. A deep set of eyes were rimmed in tears. He swallowed hard and she noticed he was shaking under her fingers. His cheeks were brushed pink, and he was breathing heavy.

Leo McGarry was crying.

The sky was sure to fall.

With a soft murmur of worry she pulled him into her, forcing him against her. After a moment of unsure comfort, his arms wound around her waist and she held him and he cried a bit more. Silently.

As she brushed her fingers up and down the back of his neck, she whispered soothing words in a honeyed voice, letting him find comfort against her body.

She glanced out the window.

The sky wasn’t falling.

Just Christmas snow.


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