Feedback!
By: VegaWriters
Pairing: Sam/Ainsley
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Through season 3; pretend that everything that we know of Sam in Season 7 didn’t happen.
Author’s note: this is for anita_coffee who wanted a fluffy Sam and Ainsley. She wanted food, UST, and a kitten, all of which I hope I managed get through for you. There is, for once with me, no angst. Careful, I have a reputation to maintain. Thank you to hannahfmuk for the beta, the ideas, and just being her.
Disclaimer: They aren’t mine. Now, if Aaron Sorkin wants to be surfing the net and hire me … wait, they still won’t be mine. So, no, I make NO money off this, but I do have a lot of fun writing it.
Chapter 1: The Road Ahead
“I really don’t know why you’re so nervous, Sam. I mean, really. The South used to be populated with Democrats.” Ainsley’s bare feet stretched onto the dashboard and she pressed her toes against the cool of the windshield. It was going to be a long drive and they were both tired. If she were smart, she’d nap so that she could drive in a couple of hours, but the magazine in her hands was far more interesting.
“Yeah, that was before the definitions of the names changed.”
She rolled her eyes at the high school answer. “Why do Democrats always bring that up?”
“Because the Republicans claim to be the party who freed the slaves when really the Republicans back then were –“
“If you’re going to give me, ME, a lecture of the politics of the South right before we go to visit my family then I swear to God you’ll –“
“I’ll what?” He cut her off easily as he slid into traffic on I-85.
“Never mind.” She didn’t want to admit she was actually at a loss for how to threaten him. Maybe she was more nervous than she realized. “I’m going to read my Playboy now.”
Sam snorted, “I love that you get it.”
“I get it for the articles.”
“Are you sure you’re not a lesbian?”
“I enjoy having sex with you, Sam. Although, at this rate,” she examined the front cover for the bunny that was always hidden somewhere on the model, “you’ll be sleeping in the barn when we get there.”
“At least bisexual?” He teased, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.
“Sam, I went to Smith. If you think I didn’t …” the laughter bubbled out and she swatted at him with the magazine. When he reached for it, she tugged it back, “No! You’re driving and I don’t want you getting it sticky before I find the bunny on the cover.”
“You’re adorable.”
“I am.”
“Your father’s going to hate me.”
“Yes.”
“Your brothers …”
“Will kick your ass.”
“Your mom …”
“Will ask you if California really exists.” She grinned triumphantly as she discovered the bunny hidden in the straps of the model’s bikini. “Deal with it, Sam. Eventually, you have to meet my family.”
“Why? I’m never letting you meet mine.”
“That’s because you come from a family of hippie California Democrats and you’re worried that I’ll awaken them to the error of their ways.”
“I’m from Orange County. I’m one of three Democrats and the other two aren’t in my family.”
“So that’s why you became a lawyer and a speechwriter? You knew you could never get elected from Orange County so you had to enter politics somehow?”
“Something like that.” He set the car to cruise control and reached over with one hand to caress her thigh. “Ains, really, we could just have Thanksgiving here …”
“Yes. You, me, two turkey pot pies and our collected mountains of briefing memos?”
“When you put it like that …”
“Yes?”
“Will you be naked on top of those briefing memos?”
“This isn’t a chance for a Playboy shoot, Sam.”
“It could be.”
“We’re going to North Carolina.”
“Do we have to?”
“Straight to Raleigh.”
“I know. We’re driving. All night. Why didn’t we leave in the morning again?”
“We’ll miss dinner.”
“That’s a problem?”
She caught his hand before it slipped completely between her legs; risking an accident on I-85 was not her idea of a fun time. “Yes, Sam.”
“Ains …” He groaned lightly.
“You’re meeting my family, Samuel. Deal with it.”
He chuckled and returned his full attention to the road, doing his best to not think about the small box tucked into the pocket of his duffel bag.
Chapter 2: Lee and Grant
“It’s right out of Gone With the Wind.”
“Really, it’s not.”
“No really. It is. Look, there’s rolling hills …”
“It’s Raleigh, Sam, not Atlanta.”
“Really, it’s some place called what ….?”
“Fuquay-Varina.”
“Come again?”
“Not likely.”
Sam rolled his eyes and pulled the bags out of the car. Hordes of blonde, blue-eyed children all raced down the plantation’s steps, all screaming Ainsley’s name, all happy to ignore him for the time being.
Slowly, feeling like the guppy in the shark tank, Sam walked toward the pile of children. The oldest and tallest noticed him first and wrinkled her nose. “Who’s that, Aunt Ainsley?”
Ainsely’s drawl, which had grown thicker since they passed the state line, answered and Sam actually had to focus to listen to her. “It’s just Sam, guys. He’s my boyfriend and you can’t maul him until we’re settled. Now, be good and take the bags up to my room. And where’s Mama Hayes?”
“Ainsley!”
Sam looked up. And up. And panicked.
The man had to be at least six foot five. And was probably a good three feet across.
“Daddy!”
Yeah. Sam gulped. He’d seen pictures of Anderson Hayes, but meeting the man in real life was enough to make him get back into the car and high tail it to D.C. CJ was hosting her usual Thanksgiving beer and junk food fest. If he drove seventy the whole way he could be there in five hours. Not too late.
“Cupcake!” The huge man swung daughter into an embrace.
Sam barely registered movement as the excited children grabbed the duffel bags and ran up the stairs. All he could do was stare at the father and daughter and wonder exactly how he was going to be able to work up the nerve to talk to this man.
Chapter 3: White Gloves and Kittens
“So.”
Ainsley looked up as her mother entered her childhood bedroom. Amelia Hayes was a portrait of Southern beauty – never a hair misplaced, never a nail chipped. For thirty-two years, Ainsley had been trying, desperately, to live into the dream her mother had for her, but she just wasn’t meant to be a Raleigh Society Wife. “So?” She smiled nervously and sat on the bed, knowing full well what this conversation was going to be about.
“He’s a handsome young man.”
“He is.” Ainsley looked away from her mother’s scrutinizing gaze and ticked one of the newest of the farm kittens into her arms.
“A lawyer as well?” Amelia wandered over to scratch the kitten’s head.
“Duke Law School, actually. He’s a Princeton Man, but that can be forgiven.”
“Duke and Princeton … interesting.” Amelia sighed and shook her head. “You’ve brought him for Thanksgiving. This is serious.”
“Mama …”
“Oh, don’t start defending him to me, Ainsley Marie. He has to contend with your father and your brothers; all of them could break the boy in two.” Her gaze softened, slightly as she regarded the look on her daughter’s face. “You love him.”
“Sam is the man I love.” She took a breath, “He’s so idealistic. In a realistic way. He gets fired up just thinking about how to educate people about his ideas but he can also learn from other people and work with their ideas too.” She sighed, realizing she was rambling. “His words are pure music.”
“He’s a bit liberal for this family, don’t you think? Aren’t you the only Republican working for Bartlet?”
“It’s President Bartlet, Mama. And I’m sure there are more than me around the White House. But they’re a liberal administration, do you expect the Cabinet and the senior staff to be full of people who don’t share at least part of the vision of the President?”
“Why were you hired?”
“Because President Bartlet likes smart people who disagree with him.”
“And how often are you actually allowed to disagree with him face to face?”
“Mama …”
“Or are you listened to more now because you’re with …”
“Sam, Mama. Samuel Norman Seaborn. Born to a wealthy family in Orange County in California.” She stopped for breath and continued on, far more sure of herself. “His father’s a doctor; his mother’s a nurse. No, they aren’t Southern, but they’re …” she stopped short of lying flat out about how tight knit Sam’s family was. There was a reason he usually worked Thanksgiving.
“They’re what?”
“They’re like most of the families in this country. You ever thought that us Southerners are a dying breed?”
“Which is a whole other argument.” A laugh finally escaped Amelia’s lips. “Are you up to coming down and finishing with preparations? Dinner will be ready soon.” She sighed. “I do wish we could see more of you, Ainsley. I wish you could stay longer.”
“I miss you too, Mama.”
Chapter 4: Of Mice and Men
Anderson Hayes cracked open the smokehouse door to check on the two large turkeys. The smell of cooked meat wafted out into the yard and he nodded with pride. It looked like it would be another perfect Thanksgiving meal; all the children had made it home this year and he even found himself liking this Sam Seaborn that Ainsley had brought with her. Not that Anderson would let him know it of course. “So you’re courting my Ainsley.”
“I am.”
“You’re a liberal. Work for Bartlet.”
“President Bartlet, Sir.” Came the automatic, protective response. “And yes I do. I’m the Deputy Communications Director.”
“Fancy title for what?”
“Speech writing, primarily. I help to set the message of the White House, I also work closely –“
“You help to mislead the public, is what you really do. You helped to cover up that MS thing?”
“There was no cover up, Sir.” His voice remained calm, something Anderson could respect. It wasn’t like the Republicans didn’t have their fair share of scandal to deal with.
“Where are you from, Seaborn?”
“California, Sir.”
“Oh.” Anderson tried not to laugh as he watched the other man. Here was a senior advisor to a President, not an easy gig and certainly not for the weak of spirit, and Sam was practically cowering. “So, not only is my only daughter working for a liberal president, but she’s dating a California hippie?” He shook his head, amused. “Just goes to show that you can raise them right, send them to the best schools, instill good, Christian values in them and they still do whatever the hell they want.”
Sam started to visibly relax and Anderson moved in for the kill.
“So, Seaborn,” Anderson lit a cigarette, “What exactly are your intentions with my daughter?”
“Well, Sir—“
“You aren’t trying to make her a liberal or anything are ya?” By now, the older man was teasing. He liked watching Sam squirm.
“Not a liberal, but perhaps an honest woman.” He took a shaky breath, “I’d like your blessing to ask Ainsley to marry me.”
The uncomfortable silence that descended around them was only broken by the soft sizzle and pop of the cooking turkeys. For a brief instant, Anderson considered throwing Sam in alongside the birds. “Marry you?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“How long have you been dating her?”
“A year, Sir. Our first date was shortly after she joined the staff.”
“How do you know she’s the only one you want to be with?”
Sam paused only a moment before speaking. “There was a moment shortly after we started dating. I needed her help on something, or at least, that was my excuse, and I went down to her office and she was sitting there, her hair twirled around her finger and the sun was cascading down through the little window she had then and the room was sepia toned and it was like a painting. I don’t know how long I stood there, watching her read and re-read the brief she was working on, but I knew then that she was the only woman in the world I could spend my days with. She argues with me and sometimes she wins and sometimes I do. We laugh together. We cry together. She was as horrified as I was when the President announced he had MS, and for the same reasons. I love how when she’s nervous she speaks in iambic pentameter. When she wins an argument, she likes a cupcake or a muffin so I keep a stash of them in my office now. When I’m with her, I feel more comfortable in my own skin.”
Anderson stared for a long, long time at the upstart liberal who wanted to marry his daughter. His only daughter. The sixteen year old, dressed in a white cotillion dress, allowing the young men to dance with her. The daughter who had gone to Smith and Harvard. His daughter, an accomplished lawyer and a strong voice for the political party he cherished so deeply. “You love her?” He asked, carefully.
“I do, Sir.”
“Then make her happy.” He smiled, softly.
Chapter 5: Reconciliation
He leaned in the doorway, watching. Over the backdrop of the football game, the men of the Hayes family talked about the failing pig and tobacco farms in the Eastern part of the state. In the kitchen, older children stirred sauces while the women finished setting the tables and arranging the different meats and the side dishes. Ainsley reached down to pick up one of the younger children and balanced the girl with the blonde pin curls on her hip while she showed her the proper way to stir the chocolate sauce.
Ainsley turned to get a better angle and her eyes caught Sam’s as he watched her. He kind of jerked his head and she laughed, passing the two-year-old over to one of the older cousin’s arms. The same cousin took over the stirring of the sauce and Ainsley walked over, reaching for his hand, “You survived my father. Any bruises?”
“It wasn’t so bad.” His lips grazed her cheek gently. “Come outside with me for a minute?”
“All right.” She led him out onto the side Veranda and settled into the swing. Sam curled up next to her, his arm draped around her shoulders.
“You have the monopoly on the gene pool in this state, right? Cause I’ve never seen a family this big.”
Ainsley laughed softly but before she could come back at him with a comment about broken liberal families, Sam’s lips brushed hers. “I love you too,” she whispered as they came apart.
“Good, because I have something to ask you.”
“Hm?” She tilted her head, wondering what secrets he had hidden behind those big blue eyes. Her gaze tilted downward to where their fingers were no longer linked and for a minute she stopped breathing. “Sam …?”
“I love you and I would go to the ends of the earth to be with you and I don’t know where the world is going to go and where we’re headed or even if we’re going to win re-election.” He stopped the rambling. “But I love you, Ainsley Marie Hayes. I was entranced when you kicked my ass on Capitol Beat and now every time I see you, I fall further under your spell.” He held the simple diamond ring out to her. “I’d like to keep doing that for the rest of our lives together. Will you marry me?”
She knew better than to think she could stop her words from spilling out in a litany of incoherent ramblings, if she actually managed speech at all, so she just kissed him and let him slip the ring onto her finger.
“You haven’t answered me, not officially …” he smiled. “I’d hate to presume…” Sam’s fingers paused before the ring slid completely down her finger.
“Yes,” was all she could squeak out. “Yes.”
He laughed and the ring made it all the way onto her finger before he kissed her again, deeply, promising her everything just in his kiss. For the first time in his life, he understood how even a writer could be rendered speechless in a perfect moment.
It was the shrieking of the teenage girls that broke them apart, as the nieces all chorused at once back to their mothers, “Aunt Ainsley’s getting married!!”
Ainsley laughed and stood up. “I think we have a family to go deal with.”
“Yes.” Sam smiled. “It looks like we do.”
~fins~