Rating: PG
Spoilers: None
Feedback: Makes my day
Disclaimer: If it was in the show, it's not mine.
Archive: At my site The Band Gazebo (helsinkibaby.ahkay.net) Anywhere else please ask first.
Summary: Usually cold feet come before the wedding…
Author's Note: Especially for Jayne who bugged me months ago for a wedding story, and when I saw her last story, I figured I'd trade her one for one. The quote at the end is a direct take from Say Anything and multiple viewings of that film is what started this off in the first place….

They say that every bride gets cold feet before her wedding. Not me. I didn't get nervous, didn't get flustered. I was completely certain that this is what I wanted, that I'd finally found the man with whom I wanted to spend the rest of my life, and that there was nothing that anybody could say or do that would keep me from doing just that.

Not that fact that he was older than me, that he had a lifetime of experiences that I knew nothing about, to say nothing of the fact that he has a daughter who's almost the same age as I am. She wasn't too happy about us, I know that. The night he went to tell her about us, he was more nervous than I've ever seen him, either before or since. And when he came back, he was positively ashen. He told me, not because he wanted to, but because I insisted, every single word that she'd said about me, about us, and I thought, as he did, that she'd never come around. That she'd never be happy for us. My surprise when I answered my office phone the next day to find her on the other end can only be imagined, and when she invited me over to her apartment that night, to talk, to try to get to know one another better, I was more terrified than Leo had been. By the end of the night though, we'd reached an understanding. Not that we were friends or anything like it; that's a bridge that I'm still not entirely sure we've crossed, even now. But she knew that I wasn't some blonde bimbo out to ruin her father's life, and that he wasn't in the throes of some mid-life crisis, trying to recapture his youth or something like that. She didn't give us her approval, but we did have her acceptance, and for us, that was more than we could have hoped for.

It's certainly more than we got from my parents. When Daddy heard that I was dating a Democrat, he was shocked, having thought that he raised me better than that. Momma got him to calm down, to at least listen to me, while I squirmed in my seat and wished that I'd actually delivered this news over the phone rather than flying down to do it in person. But once I was there, I had no choice but to go through with it, and I told them his name. We're a rather talkative family - I didn't get my distinctive patter from nowhere, and family gatherings at our house have been known to literally raise the roof. I've never seen either one of my parents speechless before, and to see both of them just sit there, not reacting at all, was horrifyingly scary.

Although once they began talking, screaming rather, I kinda hoped that they might lose their voices again.

They told me in very clear terms that I had lost my mind, that he was all wrong for me. Wrong age, wrong politics, wrong job, just everything wrong. They told me that they would never sanction this relationship, that it was against everything they wanted for me, and they forbade me to see him.

Tears in my eyes, my heart hammering in my chest, I stood up and told them that they didn't raise me not to follow my heart. That I'd always done what I thought was right, and that I wasn't going to stop now. That I loved Leo and that I was going to be with him, no matter what they thought. No matter what it cost me.

I got the next flight back to Washington and cried the whole way home.

It took a while for my parents to come around, and predictably enough, my mother was the first to thaw. Daddy is still not entirely comfortable with this, and he's only here today under duress. My mother ordered him here, telling him that she'd never forgive him if he missed today; moreover, she pointed out to him that he'd never forgive himself. So, with something less than good grace, Daddy did walk me down the aisle today, and he did make a speech at dinner, filled with anecdotes about how he loved his little girl, and how happy he was that she was happy. He hardly mentioned Leo at all, and we both knew that he was damning my brand-new husband with faint praise, if even that.

Not that he was the only person in the wedding party who felt that way. The best man, for example, was also heard to utter words of concern while shaking his head. The irony of the fact that he was echoing everything that my father had said was not lost on me - it's probably the only time that they'll ever agree on anything. The night that Leo told the President about us, he was almost as nervous as the night that he told Mallory, and I have it on good authority that the paint was all but stripped off the Oval Office walls, such was the level of debate inside. That was a conversation of which Leo never told me the specifics, but Charlie was outside, the only other person still in the West Wing at that hour of the night, and while he didn't tell me any specifics, because he never would, he did go out of his way to find me in a quiet corner the next morning and tell me that everything was going to be all right.

I don't know if he thought that that was true, or merely hoped it, but either way, it hasn't worked out that way. Oh, don't get me wrong, the President is perfectly cordial to me; he never says anything either in my presence, or so far as I know, in Leo's, that gives away his feelings about our relationship. But I still detect a reserve in his dealings with me, as if he's keeping me at arm's length. The First Lady is wonderful, so welcoming and warm, which, in a way, makes her husband's reticence all the more noteworthy. He was best man today, and made a wonderful toast, all about how much he cherished his friendship with Leo and how happy he was that he was happy. Me, he hardly mentioned, and both Leo and I knew that I was being damned with faint praise too.

Looking around the room, I see the Senior Staff all gathered around one table, talking and laughing with one another. Of all of them, CJ was the one who shrieked the loudest, which was to be expected, as she was the one who was going to have to be on the front lines, spinning us to the press, no matter how much Leo was adamant that he didn't want that. But CJ knew that the spin was going to have to be spun, and once she talked to us, figured out with us how best to respond to the questions that were going to be asked, she was fine about it. She was one of the first ones to really accept us as a couple, castigating the others when they made smart comments about us. She was the one who came over to me during my first state dinner as Leo's escort when she saw me alone. She made some wisecrack about not being able to rely on men to be around when you needed them, and walked me over to our table, making sure I was involved in the conversations that whole night.

Toby and Josh were both slower to come around, which I expected. Toby in particular had several vociferous objections about us, and made them long and loud. He's stopped now, thank goodness, although his latest one was that the President didn't allow him to write his best man's speech; wouldn't let him even edit it. He doesn't like the President speaking without his input, it appears. Josh took just as long to come around, although I think his conversion has as much to do with Donna talking him around as anything. He was seeing things from the political point of view, wondering if Leo and I could ever last the pace with all our differences. Donna, on the other hand, die-hard romantic that she is, saw no just cause or impediment as to why we couldn't be together, and said as much to all and sundry. She even organised a bachelorette lunch for me in the Mess last week, talking all the assistants into coming, and all their bosses into letting them.

One of the strongest allies that we've had in our relationship has been, surprisingly enough, the First Lady. She's the one that the President ranted to when Leo first told him, and she's the one who appeared at his office the next day and had a long heart-to-heart with him, listening to him without judging him, just hearing what he had to say. Leo just spoke to her, and she never interrupted him, save to ask a question about a point that she needed clarified. When Leo was finished, he said that she just nodded once, stood up and hugged him and walked out. He was more than a little mystified as to her state of mind, and spent a nervous night with me, wondering what it all meant. We found that out the next day, when I was working in my office, minding my own business, not expecting anything out of the ordinary to happen, and the door opened, and in came the First Lady. I probably didn't make too good of an impression - I was so shocked and so nervous, because I knew what she wanted to talk to me about, and I was babbling a mile a minute. Although at least there was no music, no dancing, and no throwing of alcoholic beverages across the room. This time, it was she who did the talking and me who listened, and when she was finished, I was in tears. Not in a bad way, but tears of happiness that there was finally someone who wished us well, who wanted the best for us. After so much negativity, it was a huge relief.

I look across the room, and I see the First Lady and Leo dancing. I can see them smiling, and he's laughing at something she's said. I wonder what they're talking about and then I see another couple, which takes my attention for a moment. Sam and Mallory are also tripping the light fantastic, and from the looks of things, he's talking earnestly to her about something. Her lips are pursed, her eyes narrowed, but she's listening to him, without resorting to violence yet, which can only be a good thing. After the First Lady and Donna, Sam was the next person to accept us, which surprised me no end. Leo said that he didn't say anything at the staff meeting, just set his jaw and listened to everyone else, which is never a good thing when it comes to Sam. He didn't say anything to anyone else, and he avoided me all day, and all the next day too. Then, on the third day, he came to my office, bearing muffins, and asked me about Leo. And I told him everything. He just listened, not saying a thing, and when I was finished, he told me that he was happy for us. Hopefully, he's doing the same thing with Mallory now.

To sum up, there's only a handful of people in this room who have ever showed marked enthusiasm about Leo and me, but that didn't make me nervous in the slightest in the run-up to my big day.

Right now though, it's all I can think about.

I'm so lost in my thoughts, observing everyone else, that I don't notice Leo coming over to me, not until he sits down beside me. "Penny for your thoughts," he says quietly, taking my hand in his, and I smile my best smile and attempt a laugh.

"I'm just thinking…" I parry, hoping that he can't see through me.

Which is quite the vain hope, because this man knows me inside and out. "Yeah," he says slowly, and he smiles, but like mine, it's not wholly convincing. "C'mon," he says, after giving my hand another squeeze. "Let's dance."

He stands, still holding my hand, and helps me up, slipping his arm around me as we go out onto the floor. The band are playing something slow and romantic, and I use the excuse, not that I need one, for this is after all my wedding day, to step as close to him as is publicly decent, wrapping my arm around his waist. One of his hands rests on my back, and he puts our joined hands over his heart. I lay my head on his shoulder and close my eyes, and forget about everything else, except the music and the man that's holding me.

You see, this is what I've wanted to do all day. Because when he's holding me, when we're together like this, it's like the rest of the world just doesn’t exist anymore. What they think of us, what they say about us; it all vanishes. Only the two people that matter exist for me.

Contrary to what people think of us, we didn't just fall into bed together one night. It was a long process, and it wasn't something that either one of us took lightly. After all, I was the woman who wrote a scathing op-ed piece calling for his resignation, which I think is something that Mallory hasn't quite forgiven me for. I've long had a distrust of Democrats, thanks to growing up in a staunchly Republican home, and thanks to years of Washington experience, Leo's not wild about Republicans himself.

But he still hired me. He still took the time to show me where my office was, took it upon himself to make sure that I was settling in well. By the time I realised that he wasn't just Leo, the recovering alcoholic, or Leo the Chief of Staff, I'd long since begun to think of him as Leo my friend.

When I began to think of him as Leo who is more than my friend, I was terrified. It was around about then that he began to think of me in the same light, and neither one of us knew what to do about it. I couldn't think what he'd possibly see in me; sure that he'd think of me as a silly girl with a crush. And he was sure that I'd think of him as some kind of dirty old man, chasing a girl young enough to be his daughter. We avoided each other for a long time, hoping that the feelings would disappear, that we'd forget them in time.

Then one day we were talking to one another, walking down the hall together having converged coming from different directions, and we looked at each other, and I realised something at the same time that I saw a spark of realisation in his eyes. Namely, that I liked this man. That we could have something really special if we gave ourselves that chance. So I marshalled my courage, took a deep breath, and said, "Leo, I was wondering if you'd like to get dinner some night."

The thing is, at the same time, he was saying, "Ainsley…if you're not busy, maybe we could go for something to eat…"

Once we realised that we were talking at cross-purposes, we stopped, laughed over it. He suggested a place, I told him that it sounded fine to me, and we said that we'd arrange a time later.

I have a distinct memory of not remembering how I got to my office, because it felt as if I was walking on air.

That night at dinner, we had a long talk. We detailed everything that could happen if we took our friendship to the next level, the good, the bad and the utterly catastrophic. And we decided that we wanted to try.

Not that it was easy. We both had fears to overcome; me that he'd leave me for someone older, he that I'd leave him for someone younger. He that I wouldn't be able to handle the baggage that came with dating a divorced man, an alcoholic, the White House Chief of Staff - take your pick, or all of the above. Me that I was just some rebound thing for him, that he still wasn't over his wife. Both of us afraid that other people's opinions would come between us.

None of that happened of course, and the night that Leo proposed to me was one of the happiest nights of my life.

We had a small ceremony by Washington standards, and thanks to the Secret Service, security was high, and there was no media intrusion. I was a little nervous this morning, I will admit, especially when my mother was hovering around me, near to tears because her baby girl was getting married. Once I was all ready, in something old (a necklace that Gramma gave Momma the day she married Daddy) , something new (my dress, a relatively simple halter necked affair with a foot long train, and a price tag that would keep a Third World country in food for a month), something borrowed (a bracelet from my sister-in-law) and something blue (let's just say that Leo's going to have one heck of a surprise later on tonight), she did in fact burst into tears, and she's barely stopped all day. The First Lady took charge when the first tears began to flow, and she ushered Mom out, leaving me and my sister-in-law to pull ourselves together as well.

Daddy walked me down the aisle, and I could tell from his body language that he still wasn't entirely sure about this. The fact that he had a long conversation with me last night where he made sure to tell me that I didn't have to go through with this if I didn't want to, that there was no shame in backing out and that no-one would think any the less of me, might also have been a clue. When I appeared at the foot of the stairs this morning, he smiled up at me, and told me that I looked beautiful. That's as much of an endorsement as I'm going to get off him today, and it meant the world to me.

I was shaking as I stood at the foot of the aisle, and when the music began, I was sure that I was going to throw up. But the second that I was able to see Leo, my nerves all disappeared. The groomsmen were in white tie, unusual for a wedding, but I know that the President loves it, and I think Leo might have been trying to please him when he went with that. Not that I had a problem with it, because I love how Leo looks like that. Today was no exception, and it was like I had tunnel vision after the first sighting of him. I was only barely aware of the smiles of the people on either side of me, only barely aware of my father's arm in mine, of the kiss he placed on my cheek when I reached the altar. My eyes were trained on Leo's face during the whole walk, on the crooked smile that I adore, the kind eyes, shining with love, and just a little moisture. The aisle seemed like it was a hundred miles long, and I couldn't take my eyes off him. I didn't miss the quick glance that he cast to the President before he saw me, didn't miss the double take that followed, or the mouthed "Wow" and my heart soared at the sight.

I can hardly remember the vows, although I do have a memory of barely being able to slide the ring on to his finger because I was shaking so much. I could hear him try to keep back a snicker, and his eyes were dancing when I looked up at him, smiling sheepishly. When Leo was told that he could kiss the bride, it was just a quick kiss, because both of us were very conscious of all eyes on us, but I swear, I could have swooned on the spot. Because that was the first kiss that he gave me as my husband.

I never thought that I was the kind of woman who'd get all sentimental over stuff like that, but Leo McGarry has changed me in all sorts of ways.

All day, all I've had to do whenever I've been worried about what people are saying, what they're thinking, is look at him, and I remember why I'm doing this. Why exactly it is that I went through with this wedding.

It's because I love this man and I can't imagine my life without him.

As we dance, I feel him turn his head, placing the gentlest of kisses on my temple. "You ok?" he murmurs into my ear, so that only I can hear what he's saying.

I draw my head back slightly so that I can look into his eyes, and I see the hint of thinly disguised worry there. I smile at him, moving my hand up and down his back, trying to formulate my thoughts. I'm not sure where to begin, but the truth sounds like a pretty good place to start. "I'm so happy Leo," I tell him. "I have wanted this for so long…"

My voice trails off and the unspoken word hangs in the air between us. He waits for me to continue and when it's obvious that I'm not going to, he says it. "But?"

"There's no but. I just…" My voice trails off once more, and I look around the room briefly, seeing most of the eyes in the place on us, and I wonder once more what it is that they're thinking. Afraid that I already know. "Nobody thought we'd really do this," I finally manage to say. "Nobody thinks this is going to work."

I can feel the uncertainty on my face; not that they're right, because I know that they're not. But the uncertainty that comes from knowing that we're doing something that nearly everyone we care about considers crazy. There's no such emotion on Leo's face though; he's calm, completely collected. And it's not just that he's hiding it better than I am, because I know him, I can read his moods, his face. There's not an ounce of doubt in his body, and he looks down at me now and nods firmly, decisively. "Yeah," he tells me, just before he shrugs and tilts his head. "You just described every great success story."

A sense of security settles around me, both from his words and from the tone of his voice and the look on his face when he said them. A smile breaks out on my face, and I press myself tighter to him. "I love you Leo McGarry," I whisper, kissing his lips before returning my head to his shoulder.

His arm tightens around my waist, and I hear him whisper, "I love you too…Mrs McGarry," and my stomach does flip-flops at my new name. I don't entertain any more thoughts of doubt, or uncertainty. Because I'm Mrs Leo McGarry now, and we're going to walk out of this room together to begin writing our own great success story.

I really can't wait.