Disclaimer: West Wing and its characters do not belong to me.
Author's Notes: Thank you to everyone who took the time to review! Like always, your comments were much appreciated!
I'm currently looking for a new beta reader for West Wing fiction, including this story. If you're interested please email me. My email address can be found on my profile page.
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"I'll get that Mr. Seaborn," one of Zoey's agents, Brian, said as Sam went to answer the door.
Sam stood a few steps back as Brian made the surprised pizza boy produce his driver's license and work ID badge. Finally he stepped back with a nod to Sam.
The boy looked between Brian and Sam a few times before meeting Sam's eyes. "It'll be $51.54 please."
As Sam pulled out his wallet and counted out the money, plus a tip, the teenager continued to glance back and forth between the two men as if trying to figure out who Sam was that he rated a bodyguard.
Sam accepted the food and closed and locked the door, shaking his head and smiling slightly. The poor kid had been so confused. He'd obviously assumed that Sam was some sort of celebrity but hadn't been able to figure out what he was famous for.
He was going to have to get used to that again. During the first several weeks of the Bartlet for America campaign, the attention had been disconcerting. Whenever they could find the time the staff, and usually Zoey, would slip away to a quiet restaurant, a department store, or a laundry mat. Even without Governor Bartlet present there has been curious stares, pointing, and whispering. Zoey's protection had drawn a lot of attention.
Since leaving DC, he'd gotten used to the life of anonymity again. He'd been recognized from the picture on the jacket cover of his novel but not often and usually in bookstores or libraries. He really couldn't imagine what it must be like for Zoey. She'd been standing on the edge of her father's spotlight, slowly being pushed farther and farther into it, since childhood. It would likely be that way for the rest of her life.
She'd have her secret service detail for a while after her father left office. It was policy to gradually withdraw protection. But eventually the agents would all be gone. He had to admit that he was already a little concerned about how she'd handle that. He shook off the thought. It was months away and by then Zoey would hopefully be a lot better.
In the kitchen, Sam dropped the food down on the counter and reached into a cupboard for plates. He served salad onto each plate and then added a couple of slices of pizza. He closed the plastic bowl the salad had come in and set it and the remaining pizza aside for the agents. After adding forks to the two plates and grabbing salad dressing from the fridge, he stopped for a moment, wondering if he should serve Zoey wine or soda. After a few moments of silent debate, he took two cans of soda from the fridge. He didn't want to take the chance of alcohol influencing Zoey's decisions tonight.
He balanced the food in his arms and headed for his bedroom. Zoey had surprised him earlier in the guest room. As attracted as he was to her, as he'd been since that first day he'd seen her in her bedroom, the first day he'd held her, he'd known from the beginning that they were going to have to go very slowly. He'd spent the last several weeks acclimating her to his touch. He was terrified of pushing her into something she wasn't ready for, of causing her more emotional trauma.
The doors out to his patio were open and Zoey stood outside, leaning against the rail. She stared out at the ocean as the slight wind blowing off of the water ruffled her hair. She'd changed from her traveling outfit to a pair of denim jeans and a college sweatshirt. Not for the first time, Sam was struck by how young she looked. Too young to be here like this, with him. Way too young to have gone through all that she had.
For a moment he wished he could somehow go back in time to that night or even a few months or weeks before Zoey's graduation so he could get rid of the French boyfriend. It would save her so much pain, emotionally and physically. She'd still be the bubbly, cheerful young woman that he remembered so well from his time working for her father. But, a niggling thought reminded him, if those events hadn't happened would he and Zoey be together now? Would he give this up, even to spare her? God he was selfish, he thought even as he answered both questions no.
He set the food on the table and moved toward her, careful to make enough noise to ensure that he didn't startle her. He laid his hand on her shoulder and gently ran it down her arm as he leaned down to kiss the top of her head. She let go of the railing and leaned back, pressing herself against his chest.
Sam wrapped his arms around her as she relaxed against him. She seemed content to just stand there, watching the darkening sky and the lights flickering off of the water. He rested his chin on her head as he too stared out at the beach.
He stroked his hand through Zoey's soft hair. What she'd said, what she'd offered, earlier, needed further discussion, yet he didn't know what to say, how to broach the subject. He didn't want Zoey to think that he was rejecting her, on the other hand, if she thought that he'd asked her to come to California with him planning on seducing her…
Zoey drew back slightly, turning so that she could look up at Sam. "Pizza?"
"On the table, probably getting cold." He reluctantly let go of her, gesturing toward the food he'd set out.
She shrugged as she took one of the two seats at the table. "Hot or cold, Pizza is pizza."
Sam held out a chair for Zoey and then sat across from her, watching as she picked up a slice of pizza and took a bite.
"Wow. This is really good!"
He swallowed as Zoey's tongue darted out to swipe at a bit of sauce that clung to the corner of her mouth. "I told you Antonio's food is amazing."
"You did," Zoey agreed, grinning. "Just because you thought it was good pizza didn't mean I was going to like it though. I'm from the East Coast, we know pizza."
Sam arched an eyebrow. "Oh, and Californians don't?"
"New York style," Zoey said, raising one of her own eyebrows.
"California style," he countered.
She crinkled up her nose. "You Californians put such weird things on your pizza. Carrots, peanuts, chicken, even bean sprouts."
He chuckled. "If you feel that strongly, I'm glad I stuck with a nice traditional cheese pizza."
Zoey poured a little dressing on her salad and took a bite, musing over the differences in their childhoods. They'd even eaten different kinds of pizza as children. He'd been so matter of fact while telling her about his sister and her family. She and her sisters fought, sometimes quite a lot, but she couldn't imagine not having them. The idea of growing up without them, finding out about their existence as an adult… She couldn't fathom it.
The relationships Sam's parents must have had, with each other and with him. Her parents adored each other, even when they fought, as they had after her kidnapping, their love for each other was obvious. Their daughters, and now their grandchildren, were their lives. The idea of silent dinners and decades long secrets was dumbfounding. With a childhood like that, how had Sam grown into the wonderful, caring man that he was now?
But then, he probably wondered the same about her, she thought with a smile. Though it had seemed normal to her while growing up, she hadn't exactly had the most normal of childhoods.
"Zo?"
She laid her fork on her now empty plate before meeting Sam's gaze. "Hmm?"
"Where'd you go just now?"
She tilted her head questioningly.
"You seemed to be miles away." But she'd smiled so they'd been happy thoughts, he reassured himself silently.
"I was just remembering family dinners while I was a growing up."
Sam grinned. "Ah, so I'm so boring that I can't hold your attention?"
"Well… I wasn't going to say so. It seemed like such a rude statement." She flipped a lock of hair out of her face.
He glowered at her.
"What?" She asked innocently. "You called yourself boring, I didn't."
He slowly stood up and rounded the table to stand before her. "You agreed," he pointed out.
"Yes."
Sam gently took hold of her arms and pulled her up to stand in front of him. "Am I Zo? Am I boring?"
"Mmm hmm," she mumbled softly.
He ran his left hand up her arms slowly, gliding over her throat to cup her chin. "I didn't hear you."
She stared into his eyes. "Yes."
"Zoey?"
She swallowed hard. "Yes," she repeated, a bit louder.
His hand moved up over her cheek, into her hair, and around to cradle the back of her head. His lips brushed across her forehead, her closed eyelids, her cheek and her lips. Zoey pressed closer, one hand going up to thread through Sam's hair as he deepened the kiss.
When Sam finally drew back to rest his forehead against Zoey's they were both breathing raggedly. He caressed her right arm and massaged her scalp gently.
"Sam, please." She opened her eyes to stare into his. "Make love to me."
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