******

Toby removed the garment bag from beneath the couch cushions and smoothed out the few remaining creases. Crossing to the desk, he riffled through the bottom drawer until his fingers finally curled around his toiletry bag.

Ten minutes later he was leaving the men’s locker room, dressed in a crisp white shirt, his beard neatly trimmed and the remains of the old shirt in his bag, ready to dispose of later.

The night before was clear in his mind. He had taken the object of his friend’s affection to a bar, gotten her drunk and ended up in her bed. At least that was how Sam, and CJ, and anyone else who found out, would see it.

After leaving Ainsley’s apartment he had wandered aimlessly, without a clue where he was, his thoughts centered on the naked body he had just left rather than the street names above him. Finally, he had found himself near Dupont Circle, the streets more familiar and it had seemed easier to go straight to work than go home.

Toby dropped his garment bag over the back of the couch and dropped into his office chair. He was exhausted but sleep didn’t seem to be forthcoming. His mind was reliving the previous night and everywhere he looked the papers he had abandoned in favor of drinks with Ainsley taunted him.

There had been a few minutes as he lay beside Ainsley that he hadn’t thought about work, or the complications it would cause, only how beautiful she was. For a few hours there had been passion and excitement, things that the first campaign had brought, whereas the present one brought only stress. Then as he watched her body rise and fall in sleep, reality interrupted. Sam would be devastated, the final nail in the coffin of his naivety. His calm, quiet anger would send ripples through the West Wing. CJ would lecture him about his behavior, the impropriety of the act and pile on guilt about Sam whereas Josh would tease him merciless.

Of course, he could be blasé and tell them all he could care less what they thought, but in truth their friendship was important to him and he wasn‘t about to risk it all for one night of passion, however great it had been. Instead he would forget about the night and hope the Republican realized what was at stake and kept quiet. Things would return to normal and eventually Sam and Ainsley would settle into a warm and fuzzy relationship. That would certainly be best all round. And what had transpired would never happen again.

Toby rubbed his finger tips across his temples and groaned. If he closed his eyes he could see her naked body, pale against the early sunlight and her blonde hair fanned across the pillows. He could still taste the alcohol on his lips, feel her soft skin against his chest and smell her shampoo. His senses were reeling from her but any minute Sam would bundle through the door, cheerful and oblivious. The sooner he pushed Ainsley from his mind, the easier things would be and the less chance there would be that Sam would suspect. Otherwise the day would only get worse.

*~*~*~*

Ainsley awoke with a pounding headache and the bitter taste of alcohol in her throat. Pulling the pillow over her head, she tried to ignore the bleep of the alarm clock and the fact that she had to get up and go to work. It was then that she remembered the night before. The pillow landed across the room as she sat up quickly and scanned the bedroom. Head throbbing, she pulled the sheet around her naked body and wandered through the apartment.

Safe in the knowledge that Toby had in fact left at some point between their love making and morning, she slid to the floor and sat there, blonde hair tangled around her face. Sometimes being a happy drunk wasn’t such a good thing. It was often better to wake up without a clue what had happened the night before and to apologize profusely in the hope no one filled in the blanks. She was, unfortunately a drunk who had near perfect recollection.

Harmless flirting and the need to feel wanted had gone too far. Ainsley remembered the tumbling to the floor and the sound of cloth ripping. The sex, she grinned, was explosive. There was something to be said for an older man who liked to use his hands and Toby, it transpired, was very good with his hands. Her smile disappeared as she envisioned Toby waking up regretting taking her home. Ainsley, for her part, was torn between hating herself and feeling guilty, and wondering what it would have been like if she’d been sober. The latter thought, she knew, wouldn’t be going anywhere soon.

She scrambled to her feet and walked into the bathroom. Her reflection stared back at her from the mirror and her fingers traced the obvious red, beard-burned skin across her chin. There was nothing for it, she would, after a long shower, and with a clear head, have to go to work and see Sam. Once, she was certain he didn’t suspect anything, she would need to apologize to Toby and make sure he wasn’t about to tell Sam.

*~*~*~*

Sam powered up his laptop and drummed his fingers on the desk. He felt good. After ending up in a bar with Josh and Amy the night before, and getting drunk as a skunk, he had fallen into a taxi. Waking up on the living room floor with the sound of his alarm clock shrilling from down the hall, he had proceeded to shower and riffle through his closet for a new shirt. Now he sat at his desk in a clean powder blue shirt and his twelve o’clock shadow carefully removed.

His computer came to life and automatically opened onto his daily schedule. It was then that his eyes widened and he squeaked. In bright blue font the words Ainsley’s Birthday flashed up at him. His squeak became a groan as he cursed the fact he’d left his laptop at home the previous day. There was no excuse for it, he had forgotten her birthday, stood her up and worse still, missed out on what would have been terrific sex. At least, he anticipated terrific sex if her killer body was anything to go on.

“Hey Sam,” came a familiar drawl from the doorway.

His eyes darted up from the screen to the petite blonde leaning against the door. “Ainsley.” Sam jumped to his feet and moved around the desk. “I owe you an apology.”

“You really don’t, Sam. I understand that something came up and you couldn’t make it,” she offered, her hands fidgeting against her skirt.

He shook his head, and frowned, “But it was your birthday and I promised dinner and dancing. Maybe we can reschedule.”

“My birthday was yesterday, Sam. I turned, well let’s just say I turned another year older. I had drinks, I danced, it’s fine,” she smiled weakly. The last thing she wanted was for him to ask where she’d gone or worse still who she’d been with.

“But I have no excuse. I forgot my laptop yesterday and I have my calendar on it and then there were meetings yesterday and I couldn’t get home. . .,” his apologetic voice trailed off at her hand waving him off.

“You are, as I am prone to do, babbling. We can grab dinner, maybe next week, if it would make you feel better. Rest assured I had a good night.” Her eyes lit up as she remembered how Toby had made her feel.

“I haven’t been a very good friend.”

Ainsley tossed her hair over her shoulder and buttoned up her jacket. “It really is fine, Sam,” she said, giving him a wide smile. And it was. Sam’s memory lapse was forgivable in light of her indiscretion. Ainsley glanced into the dark cavern that was Toby’s den and relaxed when she found it empty. Her eyes involuntarily scanned the bullpen.

Toby left Leo’s office, his mind running over the campaign schedule, his hands clasping and unclasping at his side. It wasn’t bad enough that Bruno and Doug were trying to write key speeches, now they were dictating policy. His brow furrowed in consternation as he tried to find a way round it. “GINGER!”

Ainsley turned slowly towards the familiar bellow and searched for an escape route, finding none she stood frozen to the spot. Her fingers curled around the hem of her jacket as she waited for Toby to see her.

“Ginger, I need to speak to Bruno and I need the fax. . .,” his voice trailed off and he stared down at the floor.

“Toby?”

“I’ll be in my office,” he growled, striding purposefully through the bullpen. “Ainsley, are you here to see me?”

“Sam,” she mumbled, her gaze never leaving his face. “He apologized for his lapse of memory and for abandoning me on my special day.”

Toby carried on into his office and tossed a pile of briefing papers on the desk. “So all’s well with the world.”

Ainsley bit back her retort and headed to her office.

“Damn,” Toby groaned. “Damn and blast.”

“Toby, I need. . .”

“Not now, Sam.”

“I forgot Ainsley’s birthday, and she says she’s not mad, but I’m sure whether she’s telling the truth. I need something that says I’m sorry,” Sam continued, oblivious to Toby’s discomfort.

“And you’re telling me this, because?” He threw his arms in the air and shuffled the mountain of paper on his desk.

Sam shrugged, “You’ve had to apologize a few times, I thought maybe you’d have a suggestion.”

“She likes food,” Toby growled, trying not to think of Ainsley sitting at the bar, offering her fries.

“So, what am I suppose to do, buy her a dozen muffins?”

“I could care less what you buy her.” He hoped the inherent dismissal in his voice was enough to make Sam drop the subject.

Sam took a step in the direction of the door, “I’m going to ask Josh.”

“Yeah, because his record with women is so perfect,” Toby called after him, picking up a file and reading the opening paragraph for the third time.

*~*~*~*

Toby stared at the phone, his fingers drumming on the back of his head as he contemplated what he was thinking of doing. Slowly, he reached for the receiver before pulling back. His attention returned to the pile of papers on his desk for a few minutes.

Finally, he growled and snatched up the receiver, dialing Ainsley’s extension.

“White House Counsel’s Office, Ainsley Hayes,” she drawled down the line.

“Ainsley.”

Her heart dropped into her stomach. “Hey.”

“I thought we should talk,” he growled, picking up a pen and twirling it between his fingers.

“Okay.”

Toby shook his head at the one word answers. He could imagine her at her desk, cringing at the memory or worse still at the broken memories. “Not here.”

“A bar after work,” she suggested, immediately tensing in the knowledge he’d think she was making another play.

“There’s a place near Rock Creek Park, Mortimers, say nine?” he waited for her agreement then replaced the phone to its cradle.

*~*~*~

The bar was out of the way. The likelihood of bumping into any of the staff close to zero. Ainsley stepped up to the bar and glanced around the room. She spotted him immediately, his fingers gripping a whiskey glass as his eyes rolled back in his head. Straightening her suit, she crossed the room and hovered over the booth until he noticed her.

Finally, she crossed her arms over her body and cleared her throat, “Toby?”

“I wondered how long you could stay silent,” he growled, looking up at her.

“We had sponsored silences at school, I was unfortunately the first one to speak and therefore I never won a single prize. My sister once told me that I talk in my sleep, I don’t believe her but then as I am asleep and generally alone I wouldn’t know.”

As she paused for breath, Toby jumped in, “Can I buy you a drink?”

“A ginger ale, would be nice.”

Toby motioned for the waitress and ordered an ale for her and another scotch for himself.

“I wasn’t sure, under the circumstances, if you would want to see me, and with the upcoming trip whether you would be able to make it,” Ainsley declared, sliding into the booth.

“Are you nervous?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t be,” he said, leaning forward in his seat. “We are just going to talk.”

“Okay,” she said quietly.

“Fine.”

They sat in silence as the waitress placed the order on the table and turned away.

Toby’s eyes drifted to the gentle swell of her cleavage through her silk blouse and back up her throat. He had kissed and nipped every inch of the exposed skin that now peaked from under her jacket. He caught her staring back at him thoughtfully and he returned his gaze to his drink.

“Maybe I should go first. I was a little, well actually, very drunk last night, I may have, well I did, say things that were inappropriate. In fact, that wasn’t really me last night, well it was, but myself and drink don’t mix very well.” Ainsley took a sharp intake of breath. “So, if you would just forget it ever happened, and I can get over the mortification I am now experiencing.”

“Ainsley, it’s forgotten.”

“Okay,” she nodded, sipping her drink and watching him over the rim of the glass.

“Did Sam apologize?” he asked, his eyes stealing glances at her face.

“Many times, but I told him it didn’t matter.”

“Good, because he’s been a nightmare all day and if he continues I may feel the need to kill him.”

“You would, I am sure, miss him, should he no longer be around.”

“You think?”

“So it’s forgotten, and no one need know,” Ainsley concurred. “I should however take this opportunity to say thank you for making my birthday, well for helping celebrate my birthday.”

Toby nodded mutely and they lapsed into silence as both sipped at their drinks.

Five minutes later, by mutual consent, they walked to the door, with Toby’s hand resting on her lower back. He waited for her to step out into the warm night air before he allowed the door to swing shut.

“Thank you.”

“For what?” he asked, scanning the street for a passing cab.

“For being understanding and not further increasing my embarrassment at the unenviable position I have put you in.”

Toby stared back at her blankly.

“I made a pass at you, Sam’s friend, the person he looks up to, and you were kind enough not to hurt my feelings, and you took good care of me,” she explained, avoiding his gaze. “And for not ridiculing me, as others would have done, and for being willing to put it behind us.”

“Ainsley,” he called loudly, causing her head to shoot up.

“Toby?”

“My recollection may be better than yours but I think I was a willing participant,” he gave her a rare smile, as his hand lingered at her waist.

“But I was the one who initiated the incident.”

“I’m six foot two, many pounds heavier than you, you think I couldn’t fight you off?”

“Well, when you put it like that.”

A cab screeched to the curbside and stopped in front of them.

“You take this one,” he suggested, opening the door. “I can wait.”

“We could share, I mean, you have been so kind and all,” she drawled, gazing up at him, fluttering her lashes.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea. The last time we shared a cab. . .“

Ainsley climbed into the cab and held out her hand for him to take. “We’ve both agreed that it was a mistake, never to be repeated, and therefore you should not feel uncomfortable riding with me. I promise to keep to my side of the vehicle and not to allow myself to entertain what could be considered inappropriate thoughts.”

“Eh?” Toby furrowed his brow and stared down at her hand as he tried to comprehend why she would even have inappropriate thoughts towards him and what those thoughts might be. Finally, he climbed in beside her and closed the door. “I‘m not going to walk you to your door.”

“Okay,” she sighed, her gaze drawn to their entwined hands on the seat between them. “But if you change your mind, and would perhaps like a hot beverage, then you are welcome to come in. Most welcome.”

Toby glanced at their hands and back to her face, “I wouldn’t want to be any trouble.”

“Then coffee it is,” she grinned, sliding across the leather seat and brushing his knee with her thigh. “One coffee then you can go. Anything more could lead to, well shall we say, um, . . . .”

He nodded as his eyes caught sight of her naked thigh as her grey cotton skirt rode further up her leg. “One coffee and I’ll go home.” Toby increased his grip on her hand and lifted their hands to rest on her leg, his finger tips drawing circles against her alabaster skin.

Ainsley shivered at his touch, her skin breaking out in goosebumps as his fingers stealthily worked their way beneath her skirt. She suddenly wasn’t thirsty anymore.

*~*~*~*

Toby pulled on his boxers and climbed out of bed.

Ainsley mumbled something in her sleep as she rolled over onto her front and sprawled out across his newly vacated side of the mattress, pulling the pillow under her face.

As he watched her, Toby couldn’t help but smile. Whereas two nights ago it had been sex, fast and less than gentle, last night had been slow and tender. Ainsley’s body had molded itself to his as they made love, not once but twice, finally falling asleep wrapped around each other. In the taxi on the ride to her apartment he had fully intended to have coffee and head home, but the minute his fingers felt the heat radiating from her body he knew that he wouldn’t be going home anytime soon.

As they lay spent on the living room rug, she had given him a long winded speech about this being the last time. Most of what she’d said had gone over his head, but one phrase was instilled - “Everything can change in the blink of an eye so let the good times roll before we say goodbye.” There was something in the way she said goodbye that left him pondering if it was going to be as hard for her to walk away as it was for him. But putting the events of the last few days behind them was what they decided to do.

An image of a distressed Sam had been at the forefront of both their thoughts. They both agreed that walking away from the relationship was the sensible thing to do, that forgetting the last two nights and how good it was between them was necessary for all concerned. Then Ainsley had disappeared to the bathroom, reappearing in a red satin robe and Toby had found himself being led to the bedroom. This time as he positioned himself over her, she had begged him to stay the night.

Toby tucked a stray blonde hair behind Ainsley’s ear and padded into the kitchen, opening cupboards at random until he had located the coffee and flicked on the kettle. Satisfied his liquid breakfast was started, he headed to take a shower.

Ainsley groaned at the ringing doorbell and rolled out of bed, clutching at the floor for something to wear, her eyes firmly closed to the sunlight pouring through the window. Her fingers brushed against cotton and she pulled the item over her head, wriggling it down her body until it fell to her knees.

“Hey Ainsley,” Sam greeted when she opened the door.

Her eyes flew open and she glanced around the apartment, wondering if Toby had left or was still in the building. “Sam, this is a surprise. Were we suppose to meet? Am I late for a meeting, because if you’ll give me five minutes I can get dressed and. . .?”

“Whoa, I wanted to make up for missing your birthday. So I bought breakfast.” He opened the brown paper bag and wafted it below her nose. “Chocolate chip muffins and apple donuts.”

“That is very kind, wow, double choc chip,“ she squeaked, lifting out a muffin and taking a bite. “This is, by me, a welcome treat. I am, particularly this morning, very hungry.“ And not just for food, she wasn’t about to add.

“So, coffee?“ Sam asked, stepping around her and walking into the kitchen. “Nice shirt by the way.“

Ainsley glanced down at her bare knees and her eyes widened. Toby’s shirt hung off her body leaving very little to the imagination, the same shirt she had gripped as he had taken her to her first orgasm. Her shoulders slumped as realization hit.

“Two mugs, wow you must have second sight,” Sam called from the kitchen. “If you want to take a shower, go ahead, better not let the water get cold.”

As if on cue the sound of running water stopped and the heater creaked.

“You should get that checked out.”

“Yeah, I will do that.” Her eyes darted to the bathroom door and back to Sam, sweet Sam, who once upon a time she had envisioned waking up next to every morning. How quickly things changed. “Sam?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take my coffee, and sit in the living room,” he offered cheerfully. “So feel free to walk around in a towel, or not.”

“Ainsley, have you seen my shirt?” Toby called, coming out of the bedroom and stopping short as he removed the towel from his head. “Sam.”

“Morning Toby.” Sam’s smile dropped as he took in Toby’s bare legs and short black boxer shorts. “Ainsley?”

“Oh god. I am now mortified that you, in doing something so extremely thoughtful, have found yourself in this situation.”

“Ainsley?”

Toby dropped the towel on the counter and stepped into the room. “Sam!”

“No,” he started, quietly. “This is why you weren’t upset about dinner. You and Toby, it’s. . . Toby, I thought you were my friend. And Ainsley, how could you?”

He shuddered and stalked passed them both. “I hope it was worth it.”

Ainsley covered her face with her hands and turned away as the door slammed behind Sam. “Oh god.”

“I’ll go after him,” Toby offered, hoping he could get to Sam before news of him and Ainsley made its way around the West Wing. “I might be able to explain.”

“Explain what exactly, Toby? That we, that is you and I, fell into bed, while I was drunk and after deciding that it should never happen again, and whilst sober, made love again?”

“Actually, I was planning on telling him that we didn’t mean to hurt him but that things change,” Toby offered firmly, his hand moving to her waist. “Or should I tell him we were both drunk and made a mistake?” His growl turned low and emotionless as his eyes scanned the room, focusing on anything but her face.

Her blonde hair shook slightly as she gazed up at his face and bit her lip. “In light of last night, I don’t on reflection think we made a mistake, I do however think that one of us needs to talk to Sam, if only to deflect some of his anger from permeating the workplace.

“Then I’ll go after him and we can talk later.”

“Or not,” she purred as her hand cupped his bearded cheek.

Toby grinned and began to fumble with the buttons on his shirt, “You do realize you’re still wearing my shirt?”

“Mm.”

“And I need that if I’m going to talk to Sam,” he said as his lips trailed across her cheek.

“Yeah.”

“For a woman who normally has a lot to say, you’re awfully quiet now.” His hands released the final button and slid over her stomach to cup her breasts. “And, for your information, you do talk in your sleep.”

“Toby?”

“Yeah.”

“Aren’t there other things you could be doing with your mouth?”

He didn’t need asking twice as he began to kiss his way down her body. She had been right, things do change but this was one time he had no intention of saying goodbye.

The End