"Rain On A Tin Roof"

by SouthernBelle

PG-13 because of the theme only

Drama

I own no part of the West Wing or the characters that preside in said show. The show and characters belong to Aaron Sorkin, John Wells, Warner Bros., and NBC. The title song was recorded and performed by Julie Roberts on Mercury Records. I'm making no money from this.

This is my first WW fanfic, but I have written several ER fics. Feedback is greatly appreciated.

His eyes are blue just like the ocean

His heart is a river free

And now and then he gets the notion

And he finds his way to me

His love's like...

It's been two years since the first time, about five months since the last. I ask myself over and over if this infrequent relationship...well, that is both an understatement and an overstatement at the same time. Is that possible? To say this thing is infrequent makes it sound like...I don't know. I suppose sporadic or erratic or random might be better words. And relationship? I can't believe that word crept into this situation. I mean while we have a relationship, it is purely professional. Except for when he needs me.

He needed me the first time. A man he trusted and had loved all of his life had been lying to him almost as long. That discovery alone could cause anyone to find the nearest bridge and contemplate the amount of time it would take to hit the water below. But not him. Oh, he took a chance, that's for sure, but it was one that could wind up being career suicide. Better than the alternative, I suppose.

He told me about his father the next morning, lying on the floor of my living room. My heart broke for him, as any friend's would, as he cried in my arms.

Once we entered the White House, we became colleagues again, and nothing more. It was a certain return to the friendly banter of the everyday, much like many people around this place. Did I enjoy the night before? Yes, but I did it because he needed me, not for myself.

Rain on a tin roof

Sweet song of a summertime storm

And oh the way that it moves you

It's a melody of passion ragin' on

And then it's gone

The second time was comfort to both of us. Some might say that it was the emotions of that May—the sadness, confusion, betrayal, the loss of a friend. To others, it could be seen as a product of the sheer energy of those moments of victory. Whatever it was, it helped us both though a time that I honestly don't think that anyone in the building would be able to describe in words.

There was no morning embraces of comfort that time, only a rude awakening in the form of the shrill chirping of his cell phone. A quick good bye and I'll see you later, and he was gone.

No sign of what happened between us for a second time crossed his face that day. Or the next or the next. He was too focused, focused on the President and how to protect him. That, after all, was his job...and mine too.

He tells me he'll be back to see me

Every time he has to go

And I keep wondering just when that'll be

Cause with him you never know

His love's like...

He was drunk the third time. Although, I have to admit, I was a bit tipsy myself. Such is the norm on the night of the State of the Union, at least for me. I knew there was a reason, or reasons, he had allowed himself to become so inebriated. Through his slurring, I was able to pick out something about a diamond ring, Tommy Hilfiger parties and cancer. Talking didn't much matter to me at that point in time, though.

It was more awkward waking up this time, both with hangovers trying to remember exactly how we wound up at his place, in his bed. But we covered well and soon continued our pattern of going to work like nothing happened. It was then I became confused as to what all of this meant.

Rain on a tin roof

Sweet song of a summertime storm

And oh the way that it moves you

It's a melody of passion ragin' on

And then it's gone

I woke up in his arms for the fourth time, after a night of talking and...other things. He had gotten guidance from the most powerful man in the world, that I was certain sealed his fate. Words like that from someone he admired so much put him on cloud nine and he needed someone to talk to. I was there for him again.

But it was then that I realized that I wasn't just doing this because he needed me. I needed him, too. I realized as he lay sleeping next to me that I was falling for him. I knew he didn't feel the same, but I didn't feel that he saw me as some cheap thrill either. I was his friend, and that role, I knew, had to be my priority with him.

And just like a thirsty field

I can't complain a bit

Cause I'm thankful

For every single drop I get.

His love's like...

It was nearly eight months before we were together again. This time was actually a twist of fate that worked out well. I was back at my parents when he called me to ask when I was going back to DC. I wound up taking my first trip on Air Force One that night, as seemingly the entirety of the West Wing had invaded my home state.

We sat together the whole trip and he filled me in on the latest development from California. I could tell by his whispered voice that I was the only one who knew of his new potential opportunities.

We traveled in the motorcade back to the White House and somehow wound up in my old office, because it lacked windows. This time was different. It was quick and impatient and a little desperate. There was no morning after, as we both went to our separate apartments to sleep the rest of the night.

Rain on a tin roof

Sweet song of a summertime storm

And oh the way that it moves you

It's a melody of passion ragin' on

And then it's gone

Five months ago, he showed up at my doorstep, carryon bag in hand. His last night here. He said he was headed to the airport, but had to see me once more. I put my arms around him to say goodbye, but that wasn't sufficient. One more time. Maybe there would be more...it was all so uncertain. The future is that way, I thought to myself.

He dressed quickly after we finished, in fear that he might miss his plane—might miss his chance of a lifetime. He always feared missed opportunities, so I was happy he was getting to take this one. A final kiss and he walked out my door. I cried a while, not because I was angry or even sad, but because I felt I may have missed my chance.

He is doing what he wants to now. He took his opportunity and he's happy. He doesn't need me now.

And then it's gone

Then it's gone