It was raining when Sam left his apartment building. He was in such a rush, however, that at first he completely failed to notice it. He'd gotten home even later than usual the night before and had therefore woken up late this morning; if he didn't hurry he'd be late for a senior staff meeting – the penalty for being late to which, if Toby was to be believed, would be Sam's very painful, untimely demise. Consequently, it took several seconds for him to notice the heavy drops that were already soaking into his suit jacket. Finally realizing how wet he was getting, though, he ducked under a nearby awning to contemplate his options.

He could go back for his umbrella. A quick glance at his watch, however, told him that there was simply no way this could be accomplished if he was to arrive for the staff meeting on time.

And the only other option was… well, the only other option was to get wet. Or rather, wetter, he corrected himself, glancing down at his suit.

Knowing that he didn't have long to decide, he watched a stream of rainwater pour off the corner of the awning, splashing into a deep puddle on the ground below. And gradually, a smile began to form on his face. The rain felt so wonderfully cool. It was a warm day, but that was no surprise. Washington, D.C. was currently in the sweltering grip of one of the driest, hottest summers on record. As far as Sam was aware, this was the first time it had rained in at least a month.

And Sam always had liked the rain.

Still grinning, he stepped out from under the awning, continuing on his way to work through the heavy storm.

Judging by the volume of Toby's voice in the bullpen when Sam arrived, the Communications Director was asking the assistants where the hell Sam was (and receiving an answer of "I still don't know, Toby") for at least the fourth time. Or maybe the fifth. He was sounding a little more hoarse than usual, Sam noticed, and that made it hard to tell.

While Toby's back was turned, Sam ducked into his office and dropped his brief case on the floor next to his desk, just in time for his irate boss to notice his arrival.

"Sam! Where the hell have you been? We've got senior staff in – " The tirade cut off abruptly. "Sam…"

Even without turning around, Sam could picture the way Toby was massaging his forehead with a look on his face that suggested that Sam's very presence was enough to give him a migraine. "Yeah?"

"Do you own an umbrella, Sam?"

"Yeah."

"Do you know how to use it?"

Sam had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. "Pretty sure."

"Then, if I can just ask, why the hell didn't you?"

Sam finally turned around, stepping out of his office and leaving a trail of sodden footprints behind him. He whisked a hand across his forehead in a futile attempt to stop his hair from dripping into his eyes, unable to entirely wipe the smile from his face. "I don't know. I just… like the rain."

Toby looked like he was well into the process of dredging up the most scathing response he could possibly unearth from the depths of his soul, when an interruption arrived in the form of a Deputy Chief of Staff on the hunt for his best friend.

"Hey, Sam! You do know there's a staff meeting – " He stopped short, his gaze flickering back and forth between Sam and Toby. Finally, he turned to Toby. "Why is Sam all wet?"

Toby rolled his eyes. "Because he likes the rain, apparently."

Josh again looked at his friend, unable to resist returning his innocent grin. "Right. Of course he does."

Sam just shrugged, falling into step next to Josh and Toby as they all headed for the Oval Office. They were joined by CJ just outside.

"Hey, guys," she greeted them casually. "Can you believe we're finally getting some r-" She stopped and stared at the youngest member of their group, suddenly remembering exactly why it was that she'd always had a soft spot for him. "Sam… why are you all wet?"

Before he could so much as open his mouth, Toby answered for him. "Because, as you were about to point out, CJ, it's raining," he growled in exasperation. "And apparently, Sam likes the rain!"

CJ shook her head, returning the somewhat sheepish smile of the young man in question as they were called into the office.

Before Sam could take a step toward the door, he felt Toby grab his elbow for a brief moment. "Do not sit on the furniture." And then he brushed past Sam and entered the room, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like a question of how it was that someone with so little common sense had managed to keep a White House job for six whole months anyway.

Had they been alone, Sam would have been tempted to point out the irony of Toby, of all people, implying that everyone else in the White House had common sense. As it was, however, he simply shrugged again and moved to follow his boss into the room. He was greeted by Leo's voice, and it took him a moment to realize that the Chief of Staff's question was not directed at him.

"Sir… can I ask why you're all wet?"

President Josiah Bartlet brushed absentmindedly at his sodden hair, steadfastly ignoring the way his suit was dripping all over the carpet as he considered the question.

"Well, Leo, because I forgot I had a staff meeting to attend at such an unholy hour of the morning; and because we appear to have finally reached the end of one of the hottest, driest months on record for this part of the country; and finally – and I cannot stress enough just how important this is – I suppose because I just like the rain."

Bartlet looked around in surprise as his words elicited two simultaneous reactions from the people who had just entered the room: a heavy, longsuffering sigh and a quickly stifled laugh.

"Toby?" Bartlet called, knowing that one of the two noises had come from his Communications Director and having a strong hunch as to which one. "Got something to say?"

"Not at all, sir," Toby answered, sounding like every sports team he'd ever cared about had just lost all at once.

Bartlet's gaze shifted to the young man standing behind Toby, who, much like himself, was dripping all over the carpet. "Sam? Anything to say for yourself?"

Even after a long campaign and six months in a senior staff position, Sam still looked slightly nervous at being directly addressed by the president. "Well, sir, I just…" He cleared his throat. "I just like the rain, too." And once again, the smile he hadn't been able to contain all morning broke through.

Bartlet stared at him for a long moment – and then his face also softened into a smile. "Yeah," he said as though a deep suspicion of his had just been confirmed. "I always thought you showed some promise."