A/N: Leo-lovers are going to bang my head against the wall...
WARNING: I curse, curse, curse, curse, and especially in this chapter.
# 100 Ways to Say I'm Sorry - Chapter 5 #
His firm demand makes me pull out the guest chair and sit down without further questions. He keeps staring at me, his eyes follow my every movement. It manages to make me nervous. I lift my ankle on my knee and lean back. He won't stop staring.
"What's going on?" I ask after a pause. Avoid, my mind yells at me, deny.
"You tell me."
I bow my head down avoiding his eyes. "Leo, I really don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't lie to me." His voice is flat, completely emotionless, even when his words tell otherwise.
"I'm not lying. I just don't think --"
He cuts me off. "When I ask you directly, you could at least answer me truthfully! Now I'm asking: What's going on?"
The volume of his voice is rising with every word and in the end of the sentence it's close to a shout. As his mouth snaps shut, I jump up from the chair and start pacing.
His voice controls the room as he speaks again: "You have some guts, Toby. And that wasn't a compliment."
"What are you talking about?" I manage to let out.
"What am I talking about?" he asks flatly. It's not a question really. "I'm talking about last month, I'm talking about you, and I'm talking about CJ."
I stop pacing. I stop dead on my feet and turn my eyes at him slowly. He doesn't even blink. I knew it.
"You're sleeping with her." Again, a statement, not a question.
I always knew this day would come, but still I'm not prepared to answer him. I try to find the words but it all sounds stupid. "Listen, I was... We were going to tell you."
"I don't give a shit about that."
I frown. "Then what --"
Then, out of nowhere, bluntly, ruthlessly, words that stop my heart: "End it."
I thought I would never hear those words from Leo's mouth in a situation like this. Sam's, maybe, Josh's, definitely, but Leo's... Never. I stand there staring at him with my mouth slightly open, dumbfounded, completely taken aback, shocked. "End it?" I stammer.
"I don't care how you do it, just do it."
The room falls silent for a beat. The only audible sound to me is the sound of my own breathing.
"What?" The blood in my veins starts boiling as my brains finally register his words. I can't believe this. I can't fucking believe this. He's telling me to... "What?!"
"We don't need a scandal. We can't --"
"Who the hell --"
"-- afford to give away another weapon for our opponents to strike us with!"
My throat feels dry as I start my pacing again, this time not worried but furious, furious at him. That son of a... "Is he behind this?" I point at the closed door of the Oval Office with my hand. "He told you to do this?"
"He has nothing to do with this."
I try to control myself but the words come rushing out, they explode from within me. "Who the fuck do you think you are!!"
"Toby --"
"You think, you actually, honest to God, think that I would even consider working here for one more second after you do this? You actually think that? And what about CJ? You think that she's just going to adjust?!"
"You're not going to tell her."
Once again, my pacing stops. "I'm not?"
"You're not going to tell her," he repeats coldly. His face shows no emotion. "If you tell her, I'll make sure that neither of you works in politics again. And if you quit, she goes too. Are you willing to do that to her?"
"Are you blackmailing me?" I spit out.
"I'm not willing to throw out everything we've worked so hard to achieve," he answers plainly, as if it would explain everything, make everything right.
Breathe, I tell myself. Breathe. Keep breathing. What ever you do, keep breathing. The roles have changed; the piercing gaze has moved from one to another. I have to keep breathing. Breathe. Don't let your anger take you with it. Breathe.
"This isn't a request, Toby." Breathe. "I'm not asking, I'm telling you." Breathe. "End it before the press finds out. End it now."
"You asshole." The words escape from my lips uncontrollably before I have the change to reconsider them; not that I'd want to. My voice is low and hoarse. It doesn't sound like me.
For the first time during this conversation, his face gives away something. Pain. Guilt. The hell with his guilt. The hell with him. My eyes narrow, nailing him into his chair. "Go to hell, Leo," I snap.
I hear his final weak plea behind me as I storm out.
Ginger meets me in the bullpen and I tell her to find me some cartons and find them now. She gives me a weird look but goes to do as I say. I bang my door shut. My hands rush to pull open all the desk drawers and start shoving my personal things into my bag; photos, pens, my address book, a tie. When one drawer is done, I move to the other.
Who the hell does he think he is, my mind is still screaming, hollering. I throw a book into the bag; it's starting to get full.
The TV's open. The goddamn TV is open. She's on, I suddenly realize. She's on. My movements slow, the rushing hands slow down as if waiting for something to happen.
She starts speaking. "Good afternoon, everyone. Today we only have a couple of things..."
I stop moving; I just listen. I listen to her voice, listen where she stresses the words, weigh the sound in my mind. And then, as if I'm afraid to look at her, I move my eyes at the screen.
She sparkles. She smiles. She controls the entire roomful of people with the balance of her voice. She loves this.
She really loves this.
I crash onto the chair and bury my head in my hands. I'm still sitting there ten minutes from that when Ginger comes in with two cartons.
I tell her to throw them away.
TBC...
PS. *takes cover*