Bikes and Broken Hearts

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. I have no money and I'm not making any off this. See I told you I wasn't Aaron Sorkin.

Author: Lee

Feedback: Lovely

Pairings: L/M

Rating: PG

Spoilers: Two Cathedral and Will Bailey

AN: A bit of fluff, because everything has been so heavy lately. I know this could NEVER happen, but that pic of AJ and a line Maeve was telling me about from one of her fics got me thinking. That is always a scary, scary thing.

Will Bailey smiled.

He had always wanted to work in the White House and now he knew why.

It was the women.

It had to be the women. They were amazing, talented, brilliant, dedicated, and loyal.

And hot.

They were definitely hot.

Especially tonight.

Tonight was the First Lady's birthday party, but unlike last year, the stories of which still confused him, the First Lady had insisted on a simple party in the residence. There was one stipulation: no one could be in work clothes. Suits for both men and women would absolutely not be allowed in the room. In fact, the First Lady had that leather should be worn, which they had done in spades.

Every woman had some form of leather clothing on.

Will Bailey smiled.

He had always loved leather and now he knew why.

It was tight.

Looking around the room, Will's eyes settled on a group of women laughing in the corner. Ginger, CJ, Carol, Bonnie and Donna were laughing at some pictures that they were passing around, but he was more concerned with the picture that they made.

CJ was wearing dark brown leather pants, which fit beautifully and tightly. On top she was wearing, well partially wearing, a leather patchwork halter-top in various shades of brown.

Will had a sneaky suspicion that Carol and CJ had gone shopping together for this party, because Carol's pants where a similar patchwork pattern to CJ's halter, but in shades of blue. Her blouse was a gauzy off-the-shoulder peasant style in a brilliant blue.

Ginger and Donna had both opted for skirt sets, but they were as different as humanly possible. Ginger's set was a long dark purple leather skirt, which had a cutout design of flowers around the bottom and up the high slit, and a matching sweater. In contrast, Donna's skirt was tiny, very tiny. It was also fire engine red, which matched the vest she wore over an off-the-shoulder white spandex top.

Bonnie's outfit, however, was the most spectacular of them all. She was wearing a one piece silver cat suit that not only accented her curves, but made her dark skin glow iridescently in the low lighting of the room.

Even with the lovely and exciting portrait that those women made in the corner, Will was still looking for one particular lady of the West Wing.

The Chief of Staff's Senior Aide and Assistant: Margaret.

For some reason, ever since he heard Ginger and Bonnie talking about the leather, he'd been picturing Margaret in tight leather. It was not a bad picture, even if it was slightly embarrassing the couple of times he had been caught staring at her. Now, he was just waiting to see if his imagination was better than reality.

Glancing at his watch, he took another swig off the beer bottle in his hand.

They were late.

Ginger had been joking about Margaret and Leo being late to parties, but he wasn't really sure what she was talking about. Of course, he didn't understand a lot of what Ginger joked about. It seemed there were more inside jokes and stories in the West Wing, than in most High Schools, especially his prep schools.

Hearing a familiar voice behind him, Will turned just in time to see Leo and Margaret enter the room.

She had apparently been telling Leo a joke, because they were both laughing. Stopping just inside the room, Margaret turned to Leo, her hands adjusting the sweater he was wearing. His hands went towards her, but she slapped them away with a laugh. The movement of their hands had pulled Will's eyes off Margaret's face and hair, which had been pulled back in a loose French braid, to the outfit she was wearing. Swallowing heavily, Will had to admit that reality was much better than fantasy.

He was actually having trouble believing the sight in front of him.

Margaret wasn't just wearing leather. She was wearing racing leathers. Skin tight racing leathers in black, with red racing strips running down her arms and long legs. She had the neck snaps opened and the zipper pulled down to reveal a good deal of her cleavage. Throwing her head back in a laugh, Will was treated to a view of the expanse of pure white flesh from her chin to the swell of her breasts.

He couldn't prevent the sigh the escaped his lips as she turned away from him, leading Leo to where the President and First Lady were greeting guests.

One hour and three beers later, Will finally found enough courage to talk to Margaret. It also helped that for the first in that time Leo was more than an arms length away from his assistant. This was not something that he really wanted to do in front of his new boss.

Casually sitting at the opposite end of the couch from her, Will smiled, "Hey, Margaret."

"Hey, Will," she dropped him one of her rare easy smiles. "Having a good time?"

"Yeah, it's nice seeing everyone so relaxed and enjoying each other."

With a far away look in eyes, she sighed, "Yeah, we used to do this all the time, but after Mrs. Landingham's death things got kinda difficult."

"Mrs. Landingham," Will asked, once again confused by an unknown story.

"The President's assistant. She was killed a few days before the MS admission two years ago."

Nodding, Will sighed, "That's right. I'm sorry. I'd forgotten." Seeing that Margaret was attempting to find other eyes in the room, Will decided to change topics, "Margaret, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"Where did you ever get that outfit?"

Margaret laughed, once again giving Will an excellent view of her neck, "My closet."

"You owned that," Will asked swallowing heavily.

"Yeah," two spots as red as her hair appeared on her cheeks. "The whole reason the First Lady declared this a 'leather' party is because she wanted to see my racing skins."

"You actually race?"

"Not as much as I used to, but yeah. I even won a few trophies, a few years ago."

"I can't believe it. You race motorcycles," Will stared at her.

"Motorcycles and ATV's, in fact," Margaret again laughed at the shocked expression on his face.

Shaking his head, he continued to stare at her, "I just can't believe it."

"Believe it," Leo laughed coming into the conversation from behind Will. "She's good, too."

Will turned to speak to his boss, but was shocked into silence at the scene in front of him. Leo was wearing a black leather bomber jacket with several patches on it, which read winning stats for someone named "The Red Baronette." In his hands, he was carrying two helmets, one matching Margaret's outfit, the other was black with a red, white, and blue, WHCOS emblazoned one the front.

Laughing at his opened mouth Deputy Communication Director, Leo tossed the one helmet at Margaret, "Ready to go, Baronette? I left the President, Abbey, and Josh down at your bike."

Groaning, Margaret rose, "We'd better get down there before Josh breaks my bike again."

"Not to worry, Abbey's guarding it. She'll break him, before he can break it." Turning back to the still shocked Will, Leo smiled, "What to come down and see Margaret's bike? She's going to take the First Lady for a spin and if you're really nice maybe I'll let her give you a ride too."

Nodding mutely Will stood to follow hoping that his embarrassment at Leo's words wasn't too visible.

Their progress didn't get very far however when Margaret spun back on the chunky heel of her bike boots to glare at Leo, "What do you mean 'let me?' If I want to give Will a ride, I damn well will."

Will felt his cheeks flush even more.

"Okay, okay," Leo held his hands up in surrender. "If you want to give Will a ride, be my guest. I'm just going to have to demonstrate all the place he can't put his hands."

Smirking, Margaret looked over Leo's shoulder to the younger man, "Come on, Willy, I'm in the mood for just such a demonstration."

Jumping off the back of the bike, Abbey pulled the helmet from her head and shook out her long brown hair, "I know what I want for my next birthday. That was amazing! We should have one of them for the farm."

The President wrapped an arm around his wife, "I don't think so, Sweetknees. Ron Butterfield would have a fit."

Laughing at the pout that Abbey gave her husband, Margaret turned to two young men with them, "Josh, Will, either of you want a ride before we head home?"

"I don't think so, Mags," Josh shook his head. "I've seen you open that thing up. You were being easy on Mrs. B."

"That's cause I don't feel like a lecture from the Secret Service. Besides, I love hearing you scream," she laughed.

Wrapping a territorial arm around Margaret's waist, Leo shook his head, "All right, that's enough flirting you two. If you want a ride speak up now, or we are going home."

Watching Margaret wrap her arms around Leo's shoulders, Will shook his head, "Nah, I think I've had enough excitement for the night."

"Good, then we're going home," Leo smiled at the younger man. Accepting his helmet back from the First Lady and exchanging quick good evenings, Leo climbed onto the back of the bike and wrapped her arms around Margaret.

As they watched the couple ride off, Will sighed loudly.

"Problem, Will," the President asked turning the newest member of his staff.

"No, sir. Well yes, sir. Is there some type of guide as to who's with whom in the West Wing?"

Both Josh and the President pointed to Abbey, who glared at them before turning to Will, "Why?"

"So, the next time I fall for someone, she won't be involved with my boss. Nobody could have told me?"

With a sympathetic look, Abbey wrapped her arm around Will's shoulders, "Well, shall we begin with the Counsel's office?"

Josh and the President laughed following them back into the White House.