~Faith~

Disclaimer: Still don't own them.

Rating: PG

Spoilers: 25

AN:  I was listening to NPR today and this woman was reading the most beautiful story, which inspired this.  As she said each line of the Sorrowful Mystery Rosary, she described the Last Judgment by Michelangelo and what it and the Rosary meant to her.  That turned into this.  And, yes, I'm still not Catholic.

Summary: What was it about these "good Catholics" that made them believe in him? 

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Leo watched his assistant's nimble fingers.  He loved watching her fingers; whether they were scratching against her note pad as she took dictation, flying across the keyboard as she type, or running through the files in search of the needed one.  But, this was different and in a way more fascinating.  Her red nails click every so often as she ran the rosewood beads through her hand, the Rosary dripping off her lips in a half forgotten manner.  He watched as once again, one-handedly since the other hand was turning pages of the report she was reading, her fingers made the circuit around the beads.  His eyes studied the Rosary, a beautiful, old piece made of polished rosewood and Sterling Silver Crucifix dangling from the end.  It was lovely.

He wasn't sure when she had started saying the Rosary and was even less sure when he had joined in.  Their soft voice were barely audible in the dark of his office, but still you could here the gentle rise and fall of their voices as they repeated it over and over.

Margaret had always been "more Catholic" than him.  She found a solace in the Church that he had long since lost, but, then again, Margaret still saw the good in him and believed in him.  That was something that he had stopped doing along time ago.  What was it about these "good Catholics" that made them believe in him?  After everything, even after today, Margaret and the President still believed in him.

"Leo will know what to do."

The problem was Leo didn't know what to do.  His best friends child was missing, a republican was in the Oval, and he was sitting in his office stumbling through the Rosary with his assistant.  If only those beads and those words really had the power to put the world to rights.

A heavy sigh dropped from his lips, causing her to falter as she spoke.  Casting heavy eyes his way, she shook her head.  The sun was rising over his left shoulder and he had yet to sleep.  So, she had yet to sleep, either.

"I'll sleep when you sleep."

With her own sigh, she closed the report she had been reading.  The words were blurring so badly, anyhow.  Standing up stiffly, she walked to his desk and took the papers from his hands.  He needed sleep, whether he would admit it or not.  She realized that when instead of yelling at her for praying he joined her.  Carefully she pulled him from the desk chair and led him to the couch, where she gently pushed him down into the cushions.  Sitting next to him, she let him lay his head on her shoulder as she once again started the Rosary.

Relaxing into his assistant, Leo joined her in the gentle words again.  Perhaps, just perhaps, her faith was enough to make them real.  Perhaps, just perhaps, he could borrow her faith for a few hours.  Perhaps, just perhaps, he could believe, at least in her if nothing else.

"Act as if you have faith and it shall be given to you."