Confessions


Rating: PG
Pairing: Leo/Ainsley
Spoilers: Up to On The Day Before
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: There's something wrong with Ainsley…and Leo's about to discover what.
Author's Note: Sixth in the Inside the Tornado series, previous instalments found at my site above.


"Have a good night everyone."

The President bids us farewell for the evening, and we troop out in silence. As if we could possibly have a good night , knowing that he's making a phone call to the parents of those boys. They were kids. They were nineteen and twenty one years of age and they went to a soccer match. Something so normal, so everyday, and it cost them their lives. Between that and the drama over the over-ride vote, it hasn't been a good night thus far.

Although that being said, CJ's got a bit of a spring in her step as she walks down the hall, and Toby makes some kind of comment to her about Sheri Wexler, which only serves to make her grin and invite him out for a drink. They invite Sam and Josh along, and while Sam agrees, Josh shakes his head, muttering something about just heading home. I frown after him, worried suddenly, because I've seen Josh Lyman after a drama filled night, and that's not how he's acting now. He's acting like there's something up, like he did last Christmas.

Like we need to go through that again.

He collects himself enough to tell me that he struck a deal with Buckland, that we should consider him for Secretary of Labour. He looks nervous as he tells me that, and considering I told him to put Buckland on a bus, I don't much blame him. But I nod, recognising the wisdom in what he did, and besides, he's right about Buckland. Sam and Toby detail the deal they made with Royce, and that sounds fine as well. Gotta give it to the two of them, when they throw an elbow, they throw an elbow. I tell CJ to make sure she spins the bipartisan element tomorrow, and she tells me that she's on it. Which is good, because not only is it good politics, it might just score me some brownie points with Ainsley.

There's something strange going on with that girl, has been for the last few days. Nothing that I can put my finger on as such, just the general sense that there's something on her mind, something she's nervous about. Every so often, I'll be doing something and I'll feel her eyes on me, looking up to see her staring at me, her lower lip caught between her teeth. "What?" I'll ask her, and there's no irritation in my voice, no anger, just good humour, and she'll blush and grin and tell me that it's nothing.

I would normally be worried that it was something; that she's afraid of what people would think if they were to find out about us, that she's tired of keeping our relationship a secret, that she's tired of me, full stop. But every time I catch her staring at me like that, there's a smile on her face, and that look in her eyes that drives me crazy, and after a few minutes, she shows me just how much she's not tired of me.

And speaking of, I'd really like to get home to her some time tonight.

So I dismiss the Senior Staff, letting them off to do whatever it is that they normally do on a Friday night when they get out of here. And I pop my head out the door and tell Margaret that I'm done for the night, that she can go home. She looks at me doubtfully, as if she's worried about me, and I tell her that I'm heading out in five minutes. That makes her smile and nod, and she's gone in seconds.

I didn't lie to her about that. I have in the past, but not tonight. There's just one thing that I have to do first. Picking up the phone, I dial the number that's become so familiar to me, and it rings for a little while before she picks up.

"Hello?" There's a breathless, if cautious, note to her voice and I smile, because once again, she hasn't checked her caller ID.

I'd call her on that, but not tonight. "You're home," I say instead, and she chuckles lightly.

"Stating the obvious there Leo."

"I wasn't sure if you would be," I told her frankly, checking my watch again. It's almost midnight, which is late to be in the office on a Friday night. But she wasn't working tonight; instead she was meeting a friend of hers for dinner, and who knows when she gets home from something like that?

"Yeah, we finished kinda early," she notes, and there's something in her voice, something that tells me she's hiding something. And I really wish that she'd tell me what it is.

"So, mind if I come over?" I ask her, a smile on my face, because it wouldn't be the first time that I've asked her that, and I've yet to receive a negative response.

"I was kinda hoping for it actually."

The flirty tone is back in her voice now, and I don't waste any time in getting off the phone and finding my guy, getting him to bring me to Ainsley's place.

When I let myself in, she's sitting on the couch, waiting for me. She's wearing a pair of sweatpants and a Harvard sweatshirt, and her hair is pulled back in a ponytail. Her face is devoid of any makeup, and we must make quite a sight, her dressed in comfort clothes and me still in my tux, my only concession to comfort being that my tie is undone, hanging loosely around my neck.

She looks up at me and she smiles, her eyes taking me in from head to foot, and I swear to God, she almost licks her lips. "What?" I ask her, not able to keep the laughter from rising up in my throat.

"Nothing…" The grin on her face is wider than I've ever seen on her, and that's saying something. "I just don't think I've ever seen you in your tux before." She stands, coming closer to me, the glint in her eyes almost predatory. "I like it."

"Oh really?" I'm close enough to her now to slip my arms around her waist and hers go up around my neck. She's barefoot, and that means that she's short enough that the top of her head brushes my chin when we stand like this. "You think I should wear it more often?"

"Somehow, if you did that, I doubt that very much work would be done in the West Wing. Not, at any rate, by me."

I laugh, really laugh at that. "I doubt that very much," I tell her, and she shakes her head.

"You really have no idea do you? About how many women find you attractive?"

"I think you're exaggerating," I say dryly.

"I'm really not," she insists, and from months of listening to her, I know that she's not going to let go of this argument any time soon, and that when she's arguing for something she believes in, she can go on for hours. Fortunately, I've found a quite effective way of shutting her up.

When I draw back from her, she's holding onto me tightly, and her cheeks are flushed pink, with a dreamy smile on her lips. "Good night?" I ask her, when it becomes evident that my strategy has worked.

"Yeah." Arm in arm we make our way back to the couch, and she sits down leaning against me, her head on my shoulder. "Nothing special, just takeout at Cliff's."

I frown, trying to remember which of her friends Cliff is, and then it hits me. "He's your Law School friend."

She shifts slightly against me. "Yeah."

"The one you fixed Donna up with." I remember the conversation that we had about that, where I wasn't sure if it was such a good idea, for a variety of reasons. But Ainsley insisted, although she never told me how it ended.

And then I remember Josh's face tonight when he was leaving, as if there was something bothering him, something above and beyond the meeting with Buckland. And it hits me that he might just have heard something about Donna's date on the grapevine, because let's face it, his attitude to her having a life outside work is well-known, although he tries to hide it with humour. I really hope that the whole thing between them isn't going to blow wide open over this, because the last thing that this administration needs is a sex scandal.

"Yeah."

I suddenly realise that Ainsley is sticking to one word answers on this topic, and alarm bells begin to ring, because one word answers and Ainsley Hayes do not go together. "How'd that work out?" I ask her, and once more she shifts in my arms.

"I don't think that they're going to see each other any more," she finally admits.

Which is not what I was expecting to hear. "They didn't get along?"

"Something like that. You want some pie? I think I have pie in the refrigerator. Also cream. Or ice cream, if you would prefer."

She's on her feet, ready to get dessert, and I catch her by the wrist, looking up at her, and her eyes are huge when she stares down at me. "What's the matter?"

"Matter?" Her voice goes up an octave, and she must realise that because she shakes her head. "Nothing's the matter. Why would something be the matter?"

"Ainsley." That's my patented Chief of Staff "Margaret, look at my face" voice, the one that never fails to get attention. "What aren't you telling me?" She shakes her head, and I continue, standing up and taking her hand in mine. "There's nothing you can say that would make a difference to us," I tell her gently, and I'm stunned when tears come into her eyes. "Tell me."

She takes a deep breath, disentangling her hand from mine, rubbing her hands over her face. "They got along well," she finally admits. "She thought that he was funny, and cute, and he really enjoyed talking to her."

"So what's the problem?" Because I can't see it, aside from the fact that Josh is going to be a bear to work with if this becomes a relationship.

"Leo…you know Cliff works in the Majority Leader's Office?"

"We've all got our problems," I shrug, but my attempt at levity, such as it is, falls flat.

"Well, the thing is, and I didn't know this when I gave him Donna's number, that you must believe. He worked, as far as I was concerned, and to the best of my knowledge, for Ways and Means."

That surprises me. "You set Donna up with one of the people that we've just been warring with on the estate tax?"

"Death tax," she amends, squeezing her eyes shut the instant the words leave her mouth. "Sorry. But the thing is, that Cliff, and I must remind you that he neglected to inform me of this fact, was transferred, recently, to another committee."

Once I sort out the clauses in that statement, I begin to realise that this might be a bad thing. "Where?" I grind out the word, and she winces, her voice almost inaudible.

"House Government Reform and Oversight."

Those words seem to hang in the air between us, and I'm momentarily speechless.

"I didn't know Leo, I swear, I didn't know. Not until Donna told me the next day, I never would have…"

"You." My voice is calm and flat as I interrupt her, but even I can hear my Chief of Staff voice ringing loud and clear. "Set the Assistant to the White House Deputy Chief of Staff up with a lawyer who works on House Government Reform and Oversight?"

She blinks, and the tone of my voice seems to restore her equilibrium. "No," she tells me sharply. "I set my friend Donna up with my friend Cliff."

"One of the very people whose job it is to tear the White House apart brick by brick?" I'm shouting by the end of the sentence, and there's definite anger coming to her face now too.

"I already told you, I didn't know that. Cliff never told me."

"And why would he? Friends with someone in the Counsel's Office, why would he let you know where he's working?"

Her mouth opens wide. "Don't you talk about Cliff like that," she tells me. "He's a good man Leo and he is my friend. And while we're at it, I'm not so sure that I like what you just implied about me."

"Ainsley, these people are out for blood. They are out to destroy us, they are out to tear us apart. I can't believe that you…"

"I can't believe YOU!" she interjects. "I've known Cliff for years Leo, he is my friend and…"

"Not any more."

"You think you can circumscribe who I see socially?"

"When it's someone like that, yes I can."

"You don't even know him!"

"He's a Republican working…"

She doesn’t even let me finish the sentence. "So am I!" she yells. "Or did you forget that?"

I suddenly realise how loud our voices have got. We're both screaming at each other. We've never done that before. Not over the leadership breakfast, not over CJ. I take a deep breath, pausing before I speak, battling for control. "Ainsley, the White House is in a dogfight right now. We can't afford anything, anything that could hurt us. You've got to understand that…"

"I'm not the White House Leo," she says quietly. "Neither is Donna. And Cliff is a nice guy. Not everything in my life right now has to be about the administration."

"Yes it does." She recoils at my words, turning away from me. "Right now, yes it does."

"I can't believe you just said that."

Her voice is filled with disgust, and truth be told, I can't quite believe that I said it either. But that being said, there's no way that Donna and this Cliff guy can see each other again. It's a huge conflict of interest for both of them, and for Ainsley as well. "It's only for now Ainsley," I tell her gently. "Just until the hearings are over. Until all this goes away." I come up behind her, resting my hands on her shoulders, and she shrugs them off.

"Don’t touch me."

"Ainsley…"

I try to touch her again, but she moves away from me, spinning around, and her eyes are angry and tear-filled. "It's never going to go away Leo. Ever! It's the same damn argument that we had in January. Republicans, Democrats and never the twain shall meet… my whole life doesn't have to be about politics."

"When you work…"

"Don't try to tell me about working in the White House and what that means. I know what it means Leo, I've seen it. I live it every day. I see people looking at me, I know that conversation stops when I walk into a room. I was just starting to get people to trust me when all this happened, and now, I'm back to square one again. Or worse, because even my friends are objectifying me as the Republican on the payroll. It's ok when I can help you, when I can put the spin out to a conservative paper, when I can go on Capitol Beat and flirt with Mark Gottfried and look cute and Southern doing it. But then you all go on to your jobs and whatever the hell it is you do and I go back to the Steam Pipe Trunk Distribution Venue." She shakes her head, looking to the ceiling as the tears stream from her eyes. "I spend my working life Leo, feeling small because of my political beliefs. I'm not going to let the man I love do that to me in my own home. You can find your own way out."

She walks into the bedroom and the door slams behind her, leaving me to digest what she said.

I've never heard her sound so bitter, so defeated. She never did complain about her working conditions to me, not before we became friends, not after we became more. I thought it was because she didn't want it to look like she was complaining to the boss, that it might look like she couldn't handle it. Then I just figured that she was used to it, that it didn't bother her anymore. I didn't realise it was bothering her more than ever. She's been so busy holding me together that I never realised what she was going through.

And then what she said at the end hits me and I have to sit down.

The man she loves?

I’m the man she loves?

I know she cares about me. I know I care about her. A lot. More than a lot. The only woman I ever felt this strongly about was Jenny. But love? She's never said that to me before. And I don't know if that's how I feel for her.

I might.

I could.

I just don't know if I do.

I do however know that I can't leave her like this.

So I take a deep breath and screw up my courage and I go over and open the bedroom door. She's lying on the bed on her side, and she doesn't move when I come in, even though she must have heard the door open. I look at her for a long moment, wondering what to say, wondering how I can repair the damage I've just done, wondering if she even wants me to.

I settle for going over to the bed, only taking off my shoes before I lie down behind her, slipping my arm around her waist. She doesn't throw it off, which is a good sign, but she doesn't move either. The opposite in fact - her body is rigid against mine, with only an occasional tremor showing the effort that it's costing her.

I press my body closer to her, kissing the side of her neck.

She turns to me then, wrapping her arms around me. "I'm still pissed at you," she grumbles.

"I know," I tell her, kissing the top of her head. "I shouldn't have said what I did."

"I know," she sniffs. "I'm not going to cut Cliff out of my life Leo. He's my friend. And believe it or not, we have more to talk about than the White House."

I don't doubt it. After all, she and I hardly ever talk about work, and after tonight I remember why. It's in case of things like this happening. And if we can do it, why shouldn't they when they've known each other for years?

"I was wrong," I admit. "But Donna…"

"They're not going to see each other. She told me that last week. He told me tonight. It's just… they really liked one another."

"We're not them Ainsley," I tell her. "This doesn't change us."

"I know."

There's a long pause.

"Leo?"

"Yeah?"

"About what I said…you know…after? I didn't mean… that is to say…I shouldn't…it's not the way…"

"I know." I kiss the top of her head. "I know."

"I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry for," I tell her, and she stifles a yawn, burying her head in my chest. "Go to sleep."

"I should get changed…" she protests, but I know from her voice that she's already more than half asleep.

"Don't worry about it…go to sleep…"

A couple of minutes later, she's out like a light.

It takes me a lot longer.


Back to Inside the Tornado
Back to West Wing Fanfic