Title: Lawyers In Love

Author: Greer

Pairing: Sam/Ainsley

Rating: K+

Spoilers: AU post S3 'Night Five'

Disclaimer: I own nothing!! Lyrics belong to the awesome Jackson Browne.

This is pretty long, my apologies in advance for any literary babbling. I'm still finding my feet with WW fic, so please bear with me!

'Am I the only one who hears the screams

And the strangled cries of lawyers in love.'

The small, crumpled ball of paper sailed unceremoniously through the air and landed with the faintest of thuds next to its delinquent brothers and sisters, all of whom had similarly managed to evade the trash can around which they lay scattered.

Releasing a muffled groan of exasperation, tinged with the slightest traces of defeat, Sam peered listlessly around his office and rested his weary head in his hands.

Staring down at the sheets of paper before him, he willed the muddled words in his head to someone materialise on the page and he sighed to himself as his mind merely continued to wander in a new and wholly unadvisible direction.

Yes, Sam Seaborn was a man in turmoil, the kind of turmoil he had come to associate solely with the female of the species. He wasn't sure when it had occurred, but somewhere, somehow, the unthinkable had happened. He had fallen for a Republican.

He'd thought he was coping admirably with this new found attraction and had attempted to reason himself out of his desire by citing the many problems such a match would ultimately face. It had all been going reasonably well too, and thoughts of her now only took up two thirds of his waking hours. Then, last night had happened or to be precise, that dress.

He'd felt the air sucked from his chest as she had sashayed into the office, a black evening dress hugging every curve and plain of her body so effectively that it had rendered him almost speechless. Unfortunately, that effect had been short lived and he had found himself rambling on about 'good dogs' and 'leashes' and had promptly found himself berated by a disgruntled office temp who took exception to his ill-advised, yet well meaning comment.

He was thankful that he hadn't vocalised his thoughts on the back of said dress, that would surely have left them open to litigation.

But as Ainsley had spent the remainder of the evening assuring him that she had not taken offence at his remarks and had even enjoyed his attention, he found himself realising that he now valued the friendship they had somehow forged, and he respected and even admired this eccentric little force of nature.

Dismissing any last shred of willpower that remained, Sam stared out miserably at the cause of his lovelorn distress to where the green eyed, blonde in question was standing chatting happily with Bonnie and Ginger.

From this vantage point he felt safe to simply observe her, glad that he did not have to think up any clever retorts or impassioned counter arguments that always resulted if they struck up a conversation.

She was exhausting, and his heart and brain seemed to be in constant opposition as each battled for control of his emotions. On one hand, she was opinionated, awkward, difficult, contrary, stubborn, head strong and a thousand other things that all made his liberal blood boil.

Of course he had also not failed to recognise that Ainsley Hayes was as exciting, challenging, intelligent, vibrant and unnervingly beautiful as any woman he had ever met. And therein lay the problem - he was in love with her.

Sam slumped back in his chair and swiped the takeout coffee cup from his desk, a little alarmed to realise that he had apparently finished his beverage with little or no memory of actually drinking it. His mind had obviously been elsewhere. Squeezing the cup absently in his hand, he stared blankly ahead of him, hardly noticing when Josh appeared in the doorway and cast an all too analytical gaze in his friend's vicinity.

"Sam, you got a minute?" he checked, trying to follow Sam's eye line and frowning as he appeared to be staring vacantly at the bookcase opposite his desk. "Sam?"

"Yeah?! Sam sat up quickly in his seat and placed the now defunct cup onto the desk before him, hastily rearranging a line of freshly sharpened pencils as his shirt sleeve accidentally edged them dangerously toward the precipice of his desk.

"Are you okay?" Josh's brow furrowed as he regarded his colleague, who was now doing his best to affix an alert and interested expression on his face.

"I was just thinking," Sam shrugged absently, rubbing the back of his neck and trying not to stare past Josh into the outer office as he heard Ainsley's distinctive laughter punctuate the now uneasy silence.

"About?" Josh pressed, wondering if he really wanted to know the source of Sam's apparent unease. Judging from the truly troubled look on his face, Josh felt strangely certain that the root of his friend's problems stemmed from a female source. Knowing Sam, probably a very leggy, curvy, attractive source.

He sincerely hoped that this time, there had been no further accidental liaisons with those his mother politely referred to as 'ladies of the night'.

Josh settled into the chair across from Sam and tossed the file he had been carrying onto the wooden surface, his hands moving to rest behind his head.

"So, what's up?" Sam enquired, clearing his throat as he tried to avoid Josh's unwavering stare.

Josh was about to reply but paused suddenly as Sam's eyes appeared to follow something behind him and he turned quickly to ascertain the passer-by who held Sam so abruptly transfixed. With a soft chuckle of amusement, Josh turned back to his friend with an impossibly smug grin. "Is this about a woman?" he pressed, knowing Sam well enough by now to know that he needed to be gently eased into a confession.

"A woman? No. Why would you say that?" Sam jammed a finger down the side of his collar and pulled the suddenly restrictive garment from his throat.

Josh cast a quick glance out toward the outer office and eyed Ainsley briefly before turning to his squirming friend and suggesting in a thoroughly bored tone, "Ask her out."

"Who?"

"Ainsley," Josh countered quickly, frowning in apparent disdain at Sam's feeble attempts to deflect his line of questions. He stood and closed the blinds on the office windows, blocking Sam's view and forcing him to address this obviously pressing issue.

"Ainsley?" Sam repeated, taking a quick breath before he continued on, "Why would I... I mean, she's...She's, you know...A Republican and she's..."

"Ask her out," Josh repeated, ignoring Sam's stammered protests.

Sam stared across at him pensively and in a reply that evoked a sixth grader and not the Deputy White House Communications Director, replied hastily in a tit-for-tat manner, "Ask Donna out!"

Josh bristled slightly and held up his hand in a defensive gesture, "Let's just focus on you and Scarlett O'Hara."

Sam sighed and ran his hands wearily over his face, "What am I going to do?!" he asked miserably, realising that further denial was now futile at this juncture.

Josh bit back the smirk of victory he felt about to overcome his features and appeared to think over Sam's predicament. "Well, the way I see it you've got two options."

"Okay," Sam nodded, glad to have some input into his current crisis and hopeful that a solution, or at least a partial plan could be devised, "and they would be?"

Josh shrugged, "Option 'A', you leave it alone. You pretend like there's nothing between you and wait for whatever it is you're feeling to, you know...disepate. It's not exactly proactive, but it is an option."

"Right," Sam agreed, suddenly forgetting his own misery and grinning mischievously as he thought about his friends own complicated love life, "how's that working out for you?"

Josh pretended not to hear and carried on undeterred, "Option 'B', you suck it up, tell her you like her... ask her out to dinner," he said simply, noting the look of abject fear that crossed Sam's face as he proffered his opinion.

"I'm going to need a second to think this over," Sam swallowed hard, "is there an option 'C'?"

"Just do it, Sam," Josh pressed somewhat impatiently, "ask her out to dinner. What's the worst that could happen?"

Sam blanched and sat back in his chair, hardly believing Josh could have tempted the fates with such an obviously goading and flippant remark. His love life had hardly been plain sailing - unexpected, unanticipated and wholly unwelcome surprises seemed to occur each time he became even vaguely interested in a woman.

"Do you really need me to answer that?" Sam widened his blue eyes and folded his arms across his chest as he deliberated over his apparent choices and tried to ascertain his favorite of the two options.

He nodded slowly as he came to a conclusion and looked up to meet Josh's obviously bored gaze, "What if she says 'no'?"

Sam did not handle rejection well, especially from beautiful women, and there had been several instances over the years that had left a substantial dent in his pride.

Josh sighed and rose languidly from the chair, picking up the file from the desk as he headed toward the door, "Fortune sides with him who dares."

"Love makes fools of us all..." Sam retorted, briefly enjoying a war of words in which he was not trying to subtly impress his counterpart. Disagreements and banter were so much more enjoyable when you weren't secretly wondering at how your adversary's lips looked so impossibly soft and harboring the desire to end the flow of conversation with an impromptu kiss.

Josh stilled for a moment and stared thoughtfully at the ceiling, enquiring with an uncertain wince, "Romeo and Juliet?"

"Midsummer Nights Dream." Sam was sometimes appalled at the lack of literary awareness of his co-workers. Appalled, and yet strangely smug at his apparently God-given gift for eloquent word play.

Sam stood from his desk, intending to first quench the now unbearable nervous thirst with a trip to the water cooler, before engaging Ainsley in what he hoped would be a charming and affable conversation that would lead to her falling head over heels in love with him.

If there had ever been a day he wished there had been something a little stronger chilling in that water butt, today was that day.

In his haste to stand up, the neat line of pencils was once again sent rolling toward the edge of the desk, with a number of eraser tipped victims falling in a heap onto the floor below.

Josh rolled his eyes at his friend's characteristic clumsiness which appeared heightened threefold in times of stress and leant his hand on the door frame as he watched Sam bend down under his desk to hastily retrieve the pencils.

"Ainsley!"

Josh chuckled in amusement as Ainsley Hayes stepped across the threshold of Sam's office, her green eyes widening in confusion as Sam's desk suddenly shuddered and there was an audible thud and he arose seconds later, rubbing his now reddened temple.

"Sam!" Ainsley looked at him with evident concern and turned to look back at Josh whose laughter she viewed as being entirely inappropriate, "Are you okay?"

"Jury's still out on that one," Josh glanced between the couple and stepped out into the outer office, pulling the door covertly behind him, "I'll leave you kids to it."

"Sam?" she watched him sink slowly into his chair the blush rising up his cheeks was almost as evident as the angry red mark now appearing on his forehead.

"I'm fine," he assured her, wondering if yet again he should mention the possibility of Dyspraxia at his next annual medical.

"Okay," she drawled, her tone clearly unconvinced as she chose to perch on the edge of his desk and reached down to pick up a sheet of paper which she greeted with a cursory glance. "Is this the speech for the UN General Assembly?"

Sam nodded, hoping she would dismiss his silent stares as merely the early onset of a concussion and not the lingering gaze of a man in love.

The office became eerily silent as Ainsley read over the changes he had made to the speech and Sam busied himself with trying not to stare at her lips as she pursed them in evident concentration. She shifted her weight and crossed her legs as she struggled to find a comfortable position and Sam smiled briefly as the unmistakable scent of 'Chanel No. 5' momentarily pervaded the air around him. He thought her choice of perfume to be entirely befitting and the very traditional, elegant and classy fragrance seemed to epitomise the woman before him.

"Well, this looks good, Sam," she suddenly announced, satisfied he had made the suggested amendments and that for the time being at least, he was not about to get himself or the President into another political quagmire. Ainsley had learnt the hard way that were Sam was concerned, it was best to anticipate a problem rather than wait for it to organically occur. Prevention was definitely better than a cure, especially in politics.

"Hmm?" Sam frowned, having only been half listening and remaining a little preoccupied with his previous train of thought. His palms were sweaty, his mouth was dry and suddenly the thought of shutting himself in Leo's closet wasn't seeming like a bad idea.

"The speech, Sam," Ainsley stated, placing the papers back on his desk and looking at him closely, "are you sure you're okay?"

With a pointed sigh, Ainsley folded her hands in her lap and frowned, wondering if Sam's slightly strange behaviour was in fact down to their conversation the previous evening. She hadn't taken offence at his comments about her dress, in fact, if truth be told she had rather enjoyed their flirtatious banter. It made her uneasy and slightly saddened now to think that he had regretted his actions to such an extent that things would now become awkward between them.

Ainsley considered Sam a valued friend; a tall, dark, handsome, caring, intelligent friend. The kind of friend she had often fantasized of transitioning to an entirely different level of acquaintance, despite the nagging voice in her head that reminded her of their contradictory political beliefs. If rumors around the office were to be believed, they were either sworn enemies, dating or conducting an ilicit affair, it was sometimes difficult to keep track of the weekly gossip.

She knew there was a definite chemistry between them and had suspected, or perhaps hoped, that he too had feelings for her. Maybe she had simply been mistaken, romantic relationships had never really been her forte.

"Sam, is this about last night? Because if it is, let me assure you once again that although perhaps some might have regarded your comment as inappropriate and taken exception to your colorful choice of vernacular, I took it in the spirit in which it was meant."

Sam merely fidgeted in his chair and nodded, avoiding her gaze as he replied quietly, "I thought you looked nice."

A small smile briefly crossed her lips as she watched him, "Thank you. Now, if at all possible, I'd really like for us to get past this."

She looked up quickly as he cleared his throat and sat up straighter in his chair, "The party last night..." he began, deciding to ignore her previous statement.

"The Federalist Society?" she arched an eyebrow and anticipated the grin that quickly overcame him.

"Yes, that one." he chuckled softly, it still amused him that the words 'party' and 'federalist society' could ever legitimately be joined in a sentence, "Did you uh...did you go with anyone?"

"I thought you didn't like to pry?" she countered, enjoying the nervous expression playing across his handsome features.

"Humor me."

"Don't I always?" she laughed softly, noticing for the first time that his usually healthy complexion seemed to have paled significantly in the last few minutes.

Ainsley tried to conceal the smile she felt about to betray her as she affixed Sam with what she hoped was an impassive expression, "Sam, if this is your clumsy way of finding out if I'm currently dating anybody, then the answer would be, no. I am not."

He nodded absently and cleared his throat nervously once again, "Okay. Good... Good," he mumbled, feeling his heart begin to beat uncomfortably in his chest.

Ainsley cocked an eyebrow at his response and tried to still the butterflies in her stomach as she found herself hopefully anticipating the direction their conversation seemed to be taking.

Sam took a slow, deep breath and stared uncertainly up into her green eyes, "Ainsley, would you..." he faltered as he was about to finally reach his proposition, swallowing hard as he felt her staring at him intently.

"Would I...?" she followed along, willing him to finish his sentence and put them both out of their misery.

Sam sighed, almost wincing in preparation for the rejection he felt was imminent, "Would you, maybe like to have dinner with me?"

He stared back at her, not daring to even blink as he watched her mull over his invitation. Very slowly, a beautific smile illuminated her face and he felt himself release a long held breath.

"I thought you'd never ask," she said softly, giggling nervously as he shot her an incredulous expression and visibly slumped back in his chair in relief. The urge to strangle the life out of her was currently only slightly outweighed by the desire to kiss her senseless. Sam smiled at her wryly and shook his head, he had long ago given up trying to anticipate her responses.

"I'm free tomorrow night," she offered, shrugging as she stood from her perch on his desk and smiled at him charmingly.

"Okay," he nodded, surprised at just how quickly the tables had turned and she now seemed to be the one in control of their dinner plans.

"Around 7.30?" she suggested, mentally formulating a list of the restaurants she would later suggest he made reservations at.

"Okay." Her smile was radiant and he felt himself powerless to do anything but agree. She had said yes and that was all that mattered. He had a date with Ainsley Hayes and so far the only word in his vocabulary he felt correctly summed up his present state was 'giddy'.

"Sam," she glanced up at him uncertainly, wanting to make sure she understood the implications of his invitation correctly, "this is a date, right?"

Sam smiled at her reassuringly and stood from his desk, nervously closing the distance between them, "That is how I was hoping we could approach it, yes."

"Okay," her smile was shy and uncertain and she swallowed hard as she heard her heartbeat pounding in her eardrums.

Sam stared down at her lips and then glanced over toward the door of his office, anticipating an interruption at any moment. It had been his experience that fate, in the form of his colleagues, usually knew just when to make an unexpected appearance.

Ainsley watched his eyes dart nervously between her lips and the door and she brazenly took a step closer until their hands brushed together gently, "Sam?"

He smiled at the softness of her voice and the almost melodic way she said his name, her accent thick and sweet and luring him ever closer to the soft pink lips he was now entranced by.

"Yes, Ainsley?" he was certain that at that moment the air around them audibly hummed with electricity.

"Would you like to kiss me?"

"Yes, I would," he replied almost instantly, his tone gentle yet expressing the absolute certainty of his answer.

She leant closer and angled her head toward his in an open invitation, her pulse quickening as he stepped closer and drew her to him, one arm snaking around her waist as his other hand fluttered up to rest lightly against her cheek.

He smiled at the warmth of her skin and took a moment to merely brush his thumb over her jaw, sweeping it lightly over her lips and and back across the curve of her cheekbone. Her breath was hot against his skin as he pulled her closer and he felt his heart all but skip a beat as her arms slipped around his waist and her hands stilled firmly on his back holding him to her.

When their lips finally met it was in a slow, tentative kiss, with gentle moans of approval punctuating the silence as they parted slowly, only to be joined together once again in another, more passionate, explorative kiss.

Ainsley sighed against his lips as his hand slipped around her neck and he held her to, her knees buckling at the hunger and longing expressed in his embrace. She was elated to find that her fantasies had not even come close to doing justice to reality.

They finally broke apart, yet remained in each other's arms, a somewhat incredulous expression on both their faces as they shared a lingering gaze and for once, enjoyed a comfortable silence.

"I'd say that went pretty well," Sam stated with a grin, unwilling to relinquish his hold on her and happy to note that she made no effort to move out of his arms.

"I think so," she agreed, rubbing her thumb gently across the corner of his mouth were traces of her lipstick were tellingly visible, "although you do realize they'll probably revoke your party membership for that."

Sam grinned and simply shrugged at her teasing, "That's a chance I'm willing to take."

"We should get back to work," she sighed, pausing to lean up and press a final kiss against his lips before she slowly extricated herself from his arms and adjusted her suit jacket. She was certain that she was blushing and truly hoped that she could make it back to her office without being intercepted by any curious co-worker, who she knew would instantly be able to read the inane smile on her face.

"I'll make reservations," Sam followed her to the door and placed his hand over the door knob, momentarily halting her exit.

Ainsley nodded and narrowed her eyes suspiciously, "Okay, but no 'all you can eat' buffets, Sam!"

Sam laughed and nodded in agreement, "This is going to be an expensive evening isn't it?!"

"I like candles, flowers, soft music and white tablecloths," she informed him, an enigmatic smile on her face which she hoped was lulling him into compliance.

"I think I can manage that," he assured her, chuckling at the suddenly unconvinced expression on her face as she looked up at him dubiously, "or, why don't you send me over a list of your favorite places?"

She beamed up at him at the suggestion, realising he knew that was her preferred option all along, "I'll email it right over."

"Okay," he couldn't help but laugh at her enthusiasm, although given her love of eating and food in general, he hoped some of her enthusiasm was at the idea of their impending date and not simply at the prospect of visiting a restaurant.

Sam opened the door and stepped back to allow her to cross the threshold into the outer office, glancing up self-consciously at the faces that greeted him with discrete smiles of acknowledgement. Leaning languidly against the door frame, Sam watched her walk slowly down the hall, a wide smile instantly appearing on his face as she turned to cast a final flirtatious glance back in his direction before continuing back to her office.

He seemed visibly startled as Josh appeared as if out of nowhere at his side, his friend's knowing smirk and teasing tone hinting that he knew the outcome of Sam's predicament.

Josh silently followed Sam's gaze down the hall and cocked an eyebrow, "You asked her?"

"I asked her."

"Option B?"

Folding his arms across his chest, the lovelorn lawyer simply stared after the retreating figure of the petite blonde and nodded in happy confirmation, "Option B."