This isn't much, but I've had it sitting around for a while. If you've read any of my other stories, some aspects might reappear because they basically all live in the same universe. Anyways, here's some canon-compliant Sam/Ainsley because there really isn't enough of that to go around.
Sorkin owns it all. Sadly.
"Let's just get married," he says. He doesn't, for once, think before spilling his inner thoughts to her. He doesn't wish immediately to take back what he's said. He means it.
It's nothing like the night-long anniversary dinner he'd planned before proposing to Lisa. It isn't a huge romantic gesture full of candles and flowers and a secluded dining table at one of New York's finest restaurants. It's not even conventional: no ring, no getting down on one knee, no question, even. He's not asking her.
Let's just get married.
He remembers the day they met: underestimating her ability to wipe the floor with him, her easy confidence and knowing smile. He remembers the first time they kissed: the tray of coffee he'd been holding smashing against the ground as he dropped it in favor of running his hands through her hair. He remembers the first time she told him she loved him: a smile in her voice even though he couldn't see it, the warmth of it spreading through his entire body as he began to understand she really meant it. He remembers all the times he's looked at her—really looked at her—and wanted to say those very words.
Let's just get married.
She'll agree, of course, because she loves him. She'll kiss him and tell him as much at least a hundred times throughout the night. He'll call Donna first thing in the morning, a smile on his lips that doesn't seem like it'll ever fade away. She'll remind him that if he wants Josh as his best man, he probably ought to call him too, but he'll drag his feet a good bit with that one.
When they get the news about Leo, they'll be sitting on the couch together, holding each other and crying, and he won't be able to get out of work long enough to fly across the country for his funeral, but she will. She'll come home with hopes of moving back to D.C., with the promises of new jobs and a way to become a part of something great again.
When Josh visits, he'll tell him that he's engaged, but won't elaborate further, and when he finally makes it back to Washington, he'll be very ambiguous about his intentions with taking the job, offering him an ultimatum, but calling her as soon as Josh has left for the airport with his confidence renewed and the go-ahead to start looking for apartments in the area.
When they finally break the news to Josh, they do it together, with Donna's support. Josh will be angry for a long time for many complicated reasons, and they'll have to bring him around to the idea of a Republican being family, but in the end he'll still be his best friend. When Josh asks for his help in his grand scheme to propose to Donna only two months into their first year in office, he'll shake his head and act like it's ridiculous, but she'll laugh and tell him she doesn't know what took them so long.
Josh and Donna will beat them to the altar, if only because she finds out she's pregnant two months into their engagement, and that moves things along a bit faster. Josh will beg for help writing his vows, and he'll agree quite easily, also managing to piece together what Donna claims is "The Best Best Man Speech of All Time." They'll see them off on their honeymoon—Paris, of course—with wistful, happy smiles, and hopes of what's to come.
They won't get married until 16 months after he proposes. After over a year of color schemes and flower arrangements and music selections and ultimately deciding to push it back a month when they find out about Donna's baby. It'll be a relatively small affair, or as small as such events can be when the Commander-in-Chief is attending, in mid-March just outside Washington. They'll limit their wedding party to avoid having to include too many people, and she won't be able to choose between her sisters for Maid of Honor, so she'll just use Donna instead. Their spotlight will be almost entirely stolen by the little bundle that is their month-old goddaughter when her parents carry her down the aisle, but he'll think, looking around at all the people he's come to know as his family, that it's quite possibly the fullest his heart has ever been.
For now, though, he's still waiting for her to answer—still laying with his hands folded behind his head and his eyes closed as if he's too afraid to look at her and see any doubt in her expression.
Let's just get married.
She looks at him, smiles softly, then says, "Okay."