Just Be Smart About the Fallout

When he got close to the house, Toby saw that some of his colleagues were gathering to head back. He made a beeline for the empty SUV and slipped into the back seat. It had taken all of his willpower to walk away from Addy just now, but that hadn't stopped him from touching her in the first place.

She'd kissed him back!

"Hi, I thought you'd like another secret to keep," he groaned, throwing his head back against the back of the seat.

Already he was regretting the apology. It had been the right thing to do, maybe the only right thing he'd done. Addy's reaction to his kisses had been welcoming, enthusiastic. She'd said she wanted to help him, and fuck, in a way she had. She'd helped encourage his worst instincts, sure, but he felt exhilarated. He gave in, letting himself picture the way she'd arched up toward him, the tiny sounds she'd made, the way she'd tasted.

Toby rubbed at his beard. He was going to have to temper his joy before the car started filling with his perceptive, nosy coworkers.

Was there a way he could keep both Addy and his job?

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He'd kissed her.

Addy's feet were rooted in place, but her heart and her mind were shooting to the stars on two vastly different trajectories.

Toby Zeigler was brilliant, challenging, a whole host of adjectives that her stunned, delighted brain couldn't even retrieve. The idea that he was interested in her at all was at once incomprehensible and exciting, and Addy fought the instinct to go back over any and all of their interactions to look for clues. At the forefront of everything was the prevailing sense that nothing could change. Bartlet needed him, the country needed him.

Of all the places in the world for a workplace dalliance, the White House had to be the worst- but that wasn't what this felt like. It felt like… Addy scrunched up her face and chastised herself for her own naiveté. The word she kept coming back to was 'romance.' That's what this felt like. It felt like two people being drawn to each other. Hadn't she been avoiding looking directly at the little moments between them for weeks, fearful that she was swapping one brilliant Presidential advisor for another? Hadn't she been worried, deep down, that she was attracted to Toby, inappropriate and irresponsible as that was?

It was still inappropriate and irresponsible, Addy knew. It was also thrilling, seductive, and dangerous.

She stood there for a long time fighting a loop of 'what happens now? What can happen now? What should happen now?' under a shifting backdrop of the West Wing, her own future, Toby's future, and a million things she wouldn't dare speak aloud even if she were called to testify before Congress. Just her luck, they'd ask her about prior relationships, and wouldn't that make things look even more like her boss took advantage? How could she explain that her high opinion of him wasn't hero worship, and that his innate moral compass meant he wouldn't misuse his position?

It sounded ridiculous, even in her own mind, and yet, Addy would stake her reputation on it being true.

She probably would have to stake her reputation, if anything came of it!

After a long period of reflection, Addy picked up her bag and made her way back toward the house- but the staff vehicles were all gone when she got there.

"Shit!" she muttered, running up to the front door. It was still propped open like it had been earlier, but there wasn't anyone around anymore. At least her dismay would cover up the way she kept randomly blushing. "Hello?" Addy froze when the voice that answered was the First Lady's.

"Oh, good. We hoped you hadn't found yourself an old well to fall into," Abbey Bartlet said as she came down the stairs to greet her. "I made up a bed, but I have to warn you, all of the alarm clocks in this house are hardwired to go off at six in the morning."

Addy was speechless. "Maybe I should-" she started to say, but cut herself off. Any other option other than staying the night would just gift their opponents a process article about the White House in disarray. Even a friendly press would jump on the story that a staffer had to call for a cab from the President's New Hampshire home in the middle of the night. Abbey nodded in approval when she shook her head helplessly. "Never mind."

"Yeah, you know better. Come on, you'll be fine."

"Dr. Bartlet, I really don't know what to say," she whispered as they climbed the stairs.

"Oh, yes you do! You can say thank you." The First Lady made her way to a corner room and opened the door, flicking the light on before stepping back. "I picked the smallest one, to reduce your feelings of guilt."

"Thank you, ma'am," Addy managed. "What was it they said at that benefit last month? 'We're blessed to have the wisest First Lady in a generation?'"

"Well, now you're laying it on too thick," Abbey winked at her as she started to shut the door. "You know where the bathroom is?"

"I do, thank you again."

"Get some sleep, I wasn't kidding about the alarm."

Like I'll be able to sleep at all! Addy thought to herself, sinking to a seat on the neatly-made bed. A second later she was popping back up to a stand. Would Toby think she'd stayed back and imposed herself on the President's family just to avoid him?

"Shit, shit," Addy whispered, rushing to adjust what she was wearing into some semblance of an outfit she could sleep in without the ensemble looking terrible in the morning. It was too late to call someone to ask to be brought a change of clothes, so that would have to be done in the morning. The small distraction of where she was and what she was wearing faded away in the face of the large distraction that demanded her attention.

There could hardly have been a development more shocking. Addy was hard-pressed to think of someone she respected more than Toby Zeigler, for his integrity, his political savvy, and above all, his writing talent. To imagine that he was attracted to her, that those feelings were strong enough to risk what he'd risked to kiss her- that he might be using his brilliant, lyrical mind to think well of her? It was drugging. Was it too much to hope he thought of her as more than… She tried to think of an alternative to the hope that had begun to build in the deep recesses of her heart. Stress relief? Surely he wasn't that kind of person, was he?

Addy lay on her back in the darkness, pondering the possibilities. It took forever to get to sleep. Every time she drifted off, her traitorous mind brought up another electric memory of Toby's lips on hers, and she was helpless not to relive every second.

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"Donna wrote me a note that says you should put these on in one of the staff bathrooms. It says here that the kid stall doors only go up to your- Yeah, I'm not reading that out loud," Josh grunted, handing her a garment bag and a piece of paper, his eyebrows lifted skyward.

"Oh god, I know just what it says. Thanks, Josh- where is she, by the way? Depending on what's in here I'll owe her my life or she'll owe me hers."

"She's probably looking for some ice to toss down Toby's shirt. Someone found more of those posters that say 'Bartlet for President,' and he's several clicks past 'apoplectic' on the dial. Want me to find her?"

"No, that's ok."

Donna had brought her the exact outfit she'd planned to wear. Addy wasn't comforted much though; through all of her exulting and worrying the night before, she'd completely forgotten that keeping such a monumental secret from Donna was going to be impossible. It was necessary, though. This was codeword-level stuff.

She hurried to dress, knowing that the only way to get through the day was to throw herself wholeheartedly into her job.

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In an odd way, Toby was grateful for the distraction of the rediscovered signs, even though he fully intended to fire someone over them. He'd woken up multiple times the previous night sweating, worried about what he'd done, worried that Addy would (rightly) think less of him for his lack of professionalism- but in the warm light of day, Toby had come to a decision.

He was all in. Sink or swim, no regrets, but no pressure, either.

It didn't hurt that for all that her side braid was pristine as usual, Addy didn't look like she'd got much sleep. He hadn't begrudged her absence from the carpool, especially since it had made it easier for him to master his own emotions. The only question was whether she was up for whatever they could make out of this attraction, not that he'd get a chance to ask her anytime soon.

He'd just finished chasing off one of the local volunteers after their 'help' in screwing up a section of chairs when Toby looked up and saw Addy walking just twenty feet away.

"Adora!" he called over, holding his clipboard so tight that his knuckles hurt. She turned, her expression curious but wary, one arm held up to block the sun so she could see him. "I take it back," Toby yelled out. Addy's upheld hand dipped in surprise, but before she could respond, he finished his planned thought. "I'm not sorry at all."

She sucked in a shocked breath, her body language curling in on itself as she shot a glance around the area to see if anyone had seen or heard them. When her gaze landed on him again, Addy mouthed the word 'okay,' clearly fighting a grin. Toby forced himself to look away. He had a reputation to protect, and there was no conforming to a poker face right now. Not when there was hope.

What he really wanted to do was march right over there and kiss her again, but that would be gross incompetence in multiple spheres of his profession. Their itinerary had everyone meeting back up at the farm to decompress (and drink). He resolved to slip out at the same time he had last night and head over to the barn. If Addy showed up, they were on the same page. If she didn't, well. He couldn't be upset at her for making a mature, professional decision to pretend their kiss hadn't happened.

She'd trusted him, followed his lead. The least he could do is give her the same courtesy.

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Toby had convinced himself Addy wouldn't show up, so when he didn't immediately see her, he wasn't surprised. Then, he heard a woman's voice swearing under her breath.

Walking around the corner and past the podium where Bartlet had been practicing, he saw that Addy had climbed halfway up one of the rickety-looking wooden wall dividers. Each of her feet were balanced only on her toes as she stretched up to reach something on the uppermost shelf.

Toby cleared his throat before speaking, so he didn't startle her. "You're going to fall!"

To his delight, Addy shot him a shy little smile. "I think I've been falling for a while, now."

There was no mistaking her meaning, and the weight of her words struck the breath right out of him. After a few seconds of mental and physical recalibration, Toby said, "Anything I can do to help?"

"You've done enough, don't you think?" came her cheeky reply.

"Absolutely not." There were years' worth of help he'd like to offer her. Toby walked over to lay a hand on the structure she was climbing on, hoping like hell he wouldn't feel it shift under her weight. Thankfully the thing was solid, probably the only thing in his life that was, right now.

"Got it!" Addy crowed, waving a dusty, crumpled cowboy hat in triumph. He recognized it as the hat Josh had thrown in disgust during the morning argument. The thing had caught air and sailed up out of view. He suspected Donna might have dared Addy to retrieve it.

"Great, now get down here."

"So impatient! Back up, I need to drop this so I can use both hands to climb down."

"I'm not going anywhere," Toby said. Two could play the double meaning game. Addy threw the hat anyway, and after it glanced off of his shoulder, he saw that she was looking down at him again, the color on her cheeks visible even in the poor lighting of the barn.

"Good," she said softly. "At least one of us should have their feet on solid ground."

"Come on, then," he encouraged, reaching up a hand for her to grasp when she got close enough. Feet on the ground, head in the clouds, he added in his head.

"Yes, yes!" Addy griped as she hurried.

Toby realized her mistake the same second she did, adjusting his stance as her grip failed on one side and she slipped down the last three feet. Addy ended up twisting around to face him and landing against his chest with a little cry of fear, her legs tangled up underneath her. It didn't take much encouragement on her part for Toby to pull her trembling body close.

"Your heart is pounding again," she said after a long moment, her voice muffled.

"You scared me."

"I scared myself."

"Are you all right?" Toby asked, loosening his hold on her so she could step back if she wanted to. She didn't move, staying nestled against him as if burrowing her way even further into his heart.

"I'm fine, just trying to muster up the strength to walk away from you and pretend none of this happened. That's what we have to do, isn't it?"

Toby gave in to the desire to kiss the loosened braid along the side of her hair. "Probably." The little shiver she gave when he trailed his nose along her hairline was very gratifying, but he felt very vulnerable as he whispered, "Please don't."

"Why?" she whispered back, sending a frisson of worry through him. "I mean, not why," she hastened, pulling back.

Toby opened his arms to release her even as he prepared a persuasive arsenal in his mind. They were both smart, they worked well together, if everything was going to hell anyway, they might as well enjoy the-

"This is a shift, and it's not that I don't like the shift," she said, brushing off the remnants of barn debris from her fall. "I just need more information."

"A briefing?" he half teased, relieved.

Addy straightened, amusement and affection painted across her face. "Yes!" Miming notetaking with an imaginary pencil and paper in front of her, she said, "As a member of the Press-you-for-information Corps, what's going through your mind right now? What were you thinking last night? A week ago? A month ago?" She dropped her hands, looking self-conscious. "I just need- what changed?"

The answer was easy. "Nothing," Toby said softly, holding her gaze, willing her to understand that he'd been smitten from the beginning.

He felt suddenly antsy; confessing exactly how he felt about her was like ripping the labels from a Top Secret cover sheet, leaving it bare and metaphorically unprotected. As he watched Addy's realization hit her with a charming humility, though, Toby remembered her flipping the light on him in his office after the State of the Union and immediately turning it back off. He thought about her bringing him coffee and reassuring him that she was not trying to figure out the mystery, just facilitate his solving it. Of all the people in his life, Addy Blair was the last person who would misuse her knowledge of him.

He needed her reassurance. The best way to get that was to reassure her.

"I'm thinking what I'm always thinking," Toby said, feeling the urge to smile and letting it happen, for once. "You're smart and beautiful and a hell of a writer. You make me feel like a poet, when I'm around you. Half the time I'm stuck in emotional writer's block, consumed by-" he waved his hand as he searched for eloquence, and the longer it took, the more he appreciated the irony. Toby settled on, "-feelings," emphasizing the word with mild derision that shook free a little laugh from Addy's otherwise wide-eyed look of appreciation. "The other half I feel like a laureate crafting his best work with your help. Last night specifically, I was thinking you're the best thing to happen to me in a long time." He rubbed at his temple and gave a small shrug. "I tempted chaos."

He'd fought for the right words, but as always, Addy was there to encourage him, unintentional though it may have been. As he'd spoken, her hitched breathing had steadied, her hunched posture adjusting back to confidence, bitten lip curved into a lovely smile.

"We are both pros at chaos," she said lightly.

"That is among your many talents, which includes sensing when to defer and when to push back. You have superb political instincts," he said, approaching her with a steady step and a gentle tone. "My bad advice is to ignore them, for my sake."

"For our sake," she corrected with a cross look, sending his pulse racing again. "But, there is one very important thing to consider, if we do choose to walk away."

There was a light in her eyes that read to him as impish, and Toby narrowed his eyes at her. "Oh?" he asked. He stepped even closer, and Addy reached up to adjust his crooked collar and brush the dust from the hat strike from his shoulder. Both actions felt natural and yet heartstoppingly symbolic.

"Wouldn't that deny Donna the opportunity to run another pool to guess at why I'm so happy?" she asked.

"I should have fired you on the first day," Toby growled at her, reaching out to caress her cheek with the backs of his fingers.

Addy stood her ground. "That wouldn't be fair, would it? I haven't told you what I think of you."

"Show me, instead," Toby rasped. He pulled her close with a greedy hand buried in her hair, and sought her lips. Addy pressed up against him right away, her small hand sliding up to his neck with a caress that spoke volumes, just as he knew it would.

Where yesterday he'd held back, today Toby kissed her with every ounce of longing he'd been suppressing for months. He walked her back against the wooden divider, images of doing the same at his office, in the hallway, in the press room fueling his hunger. She'd spoken of fairness, but nothing that had happened in the past month had been fair, nothing but this. Addy's acceptance of him was vindication, a reward for patience and a punishment for overstepping his bounds.

She was warm against him, sweet and vibrant and responsive. Toby felt clumsy with lust, his fingers snarling her hair and wrinkling her blouse, his beard leaving reddened marks on her face. He wouldn't have believed it was really happening but for those imperfect reminders. It was Addy whose fingernails grazed sweet pleasure at the nape of his neck, Addy's tongue responding to his exploration, Addy's gasp when he ground his hips against hers. Toby could sense her growing confidence and fell for her all the more- she trusted him, he could tell, and it was unexpectedly sexy.

He kissed his way to her throat, out of breath and overcome. She'd tangled her fingers in between the buttons of his dress shirt, and with every drag of his lips, they would spasm and she would sigh. Toby was-

"Well this wasn't on my bingo card for the evening," Jed Bartlet thundered from the doorway of the barn.

Addy pushed him away at the same time that Toby took a large step back, cramming his hands into his pockets and hunching his shoulders. The sense of impending doom that had followed him since the night before had finally metastasized, but now that it was here, all he felt was a strange sort of relief. For years he'd taken one step forward and two steps back in his career, enough that he'd started to wonder what he was atoning for.

"Good evening, sir," he said, clearing his throat.

"Clearly," the President said drily.

"Right, okay," Addy said from across the room, working quickly to repin her braid. "I can formally offer my resignation as soon as I get it typed up on the-"

"Absolutely not!" Toby interrupted. "Mr. President, I'm the one who-"

"No one is resigning," Bartlet cut in, using his 'disappointed father' voice. "However, I have some questions."

"With all due respect-" Addy started again.

"In the interests of that respect, hush," Bartlet interrupted. He made a vague gesture encompassing the two of them. "How long?"

"Twenty-four hours?" Addy whispered at the same time that Toby was answering, "Four months."

Addy had walked over to stand beside Toby as though they were being dressed down at the principal's office. At his revelation, she stumbled sideways in utter surprise.

"What?" she whispered. Toby risked insubordination to look over. It was worth it; Addy looked delighted and disheveled, and both were his fault.

"I don't think it would be a shock to learn that I cannot lose either of you right now, nor can we sustain the kind of scandal that might ensue if this came to light," Bartlet said stridently. "Can you two promise to keep yourselves zipped until I have some time to think?"

"Mr. President, I really think the best-"

The President interrupted with a tone of finality, "Good night, Miss Blair."

"Yes, sir," she told him meekly. "Good night to both of you."

Before Toby could reach out to squeeze her hand, Bartlet cleared his throat. The two of them watched as Addy left, her head held high.

"The surprise ebbs away the longer I see the two of you in the same place," Bartlet remarked, letting out a hefty sigh. "Stubborn mules, both of you. What the hell were you thinking?"

"I wasn't," Toby said simply.

The President kept silent for a punishingly long time before he turned to face Toby, eyebrows raised. "Well, young man, what are your intentions?"

Bartlet was just over a decade older than him. Toby chuckled, but the President's stern expression didn't waver, prompting him to ask, "You're serious?"

"Are you?"

"Serious about her? Yes. Not that she knows that. We really- this is very new. I apologize for the, ah, inconvenience." Toby's political experience rested heavily on his position at the White House and his reputation for being implacable. Neither of those held any sway right now.

"Toby, your saving grace just might be discretion, not that you've employed any semblance of that here," Bartlet sighed, sounding deeply weary. "You've at least hidden it well."

The exhaustion in the President's tone pricked Toby's conscience. "Sir, I am also prepared to resign if that becomes necessary."

"You have got to be kidding me," Bartlet said, turning away to stomp off toward the door. "The two of you deserve each other!" he threw over his shoulder.

"Thank you, sir," Toby yelled back.

The President threw up his hands in disgust as he made his way toward the house.

"Well, that could have gone worse," Toby muttered to himself, scrubbing a hand through his sparse hair. "Shit."