Title: Campaign Flings Or Lack There Of
Rating: PG-13
Originally published: April 8th, 2006
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or this show. And it shows.

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She supposes that she should be upset with him, but she's not. She's a little ticked off with herself for not waiting until he actually picked up the key. But since the look in his eyes was all the answer she needed, she opted to saunter off provocatively, knowing he would follow as soon as he managed to pick his jaw off the ground. She forgot about his abysmal luck in these matters. She's disappointed, but that starts to fade as she observes Ronna blatantly pursuing Cindy under her boyfriend's nose and Bram making his way through a number of Santos groupies. It disappears completely when Lester and Edie find a new way to resolve their ill will, which had lingered long after the California shooting was a barely remembered news cycle. By the time Lou and Otto started to size each other up, she is pathetically glad that nothing happened that night.

He knows he doesn't actually need her key, or even an invitation, to be with her. All he needs to do is pick up the phone or knock on her door and maybe beg a little. But he doesn't. Had Ronna been a little less observant, he would have put all his reservations aside and just let go. But the moment was lost and he didn't spend nine years trying to protect what they had from being cheapened by gossip to blow it now. Sometimes, that's the only thing that keeps him from taking her against the nearest wall.

She realizes it should now be awkward between them, but it's not. It helps that he's been grabbing and kissing the hell out of her whenever they have a moment alone. Apparently, he has gotten over how "terrible" he felt over the "inappropriate" setting of their first kiss, because some of the surroundings he has since chosen have been strange, to say the least. There is rarely any privacy on the campaign trail, but from the very start they have been amazingly adept at judging just how many seconds they have before they are interrupted. There have been a few mishaps, but nothing more serious than his gum winding up in her mouth. She has begun to think it must be an innate gift of theirs rather than a learned skill. She also has begun to deliver good news to him when no one else is around. She learned that lesson after telling him about Vinick's cold.

He probably should thank CJ someday for her brilliant idea. He will definitely thank Danny for telling him about it all those years ago.

She enjoys the way he's been watching her, especially the look he slides her way as he reminds everyone that this will end all end tomorrow. The one that tells her that he knows as well as she does that the waiting, the teasing, the anticipating will soon be over. They have been indulging in a little quiet flirting all day. Too subtle for anyone who hasn't know them for years to notice and Leo is far too amused at everyone else's obliviousness to care. When they are left alone, they flirt more blatantly. True to form to the last, it's still not what they say, but how they say it that is important. Then, without warning, they are no longer flirting and are facing something much, much deeper. Suddenly, distance between what they have and what their colleagues are engaging in seems to be measured in light-years. She's never had a campaign fling and nothing they do tonight will change the veracity that statement.

He stopped "coming on board" years ago. Right around the time a young, blond volunteer from Wisconsin talked her way into a job. Which should have told him something right there. But he does remember what the campaign trail was like before then, so the number of campaign hook-ups doesn't surprise him… though the pairings do. He is going to do his best to try to purge idea of Lou and Otto from his brain before it causes serious damage. There was a reason he did his best to block any knowledge of romantic entanglements… so he could avoid listening to the fall out of their inevitable demise. He has learned more from Leo than just how to run a country. As he swallows the last of his ridiculously priced alcohol, he spares a shred of pity for the others. It may have taken almost a decade, but this is definitely the better way to go.

Unlike their colleagues, there is nothing that gives them away. Should Ronna and Cindy drag their attention away from each other, all they'd see would be their campaign manager casually chatting with his campaign spokesman as they waited for the elevator. The thought amuses her because though he doesn't touch her, not even the small of her back, his eyes are intense and letting her know just what he intends to do with her the moment they are alone.

He is a little amazed at his restraint. An empty elevator has been his favorite place the past few weeks. But when he finally puts his hands on her, nothing is going to convince him to remove them. So, instead of repeating those performances, he stands in the corner, eyes smoldering at her. He follows her to his door, one step behind. When she turns to him, he hands her his key card. He lean against the doorframe as she opens the door and follows her inside.

If she's not careful, their focus on the election is going to suffer the same fate their need for sleep has. Twice, she settled into his arms expecting exhaustion to finally take them both. Only his hands kept exploring her body. And then his lips followed. And then… Finally, she banished him to his end of the bed, which cost her, but he did seem to drift off for forty minutes or so. But he's awake now and that means she is going to have to get out of this bed before his resolve crumpled. Or hers.

It's the coffee that finally reassures him that everything will be fine between them. In all their time together, he can count the number of times she had brought him coffee on one hand and still have fingers to spare. The last occasion was years ago, but she still remembers exactly how he prefers it. Now, if he could only get these people out of his room before she gets back, life would be good.

She hadn't intended to proposition him. She really couldn't help herself. He had made her melt with one word. The polling numbers were there right in front of him absorbing everything he had to give, but he was still flirting with her. From the moment she met him to the very second before the word left his lips, she never thought that anything could divert an iota of his attention away from politics. But apparently she can. She revels in the power.

He was laughing a few hours ago. They had been caught and they were laughing because they didn't need to hide or even want to. It was a few hours ago. Why does it feel like years?

She wishes they had gotten together earlier than this. Maybe the night when she tried to give him her key or when Ellie Bartlet got married. Hell, she should lunged for him across the damn table when he handed her that beer at the Democratic National Convention, Will Bailley and anyone else in the room be damned. She wishes she had given him definitive proof of her devotion ages before, because, if she were to do so now in the Houston night air, he might misconstrue it. He might think she was trying to placate him or talk him down from some psychological cliff. If she had only swallowed her pride, drowned her fears and made sure he knew that her heart and soul was his, he might be able to believe her commitment and to know she would be there to catch him when he fell. She doesn't want to ever be anywhere else.

She's the only one he wants by his side. She is the only one who he trust enough to confided his fears. She's the only one who lets him vent his frustrations. She's the only one who knows that his ranting is not some form of insanity and she's the only one who knows how much it is exhausting him to keep it that way. When it all falls down, she is the only one he can depend on without question. He thinks that no matter what this day still has in store for him, he can handle it if she's there.