Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to the West Wing, Hamilton, or The Monkees (who sang A Little Bit Me, A Little Bit You, written by Neil Diamond).

Note- The timing of events is slightly tweaked in the context of the original episode.

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The smell of air freshener blended with the mildew that surrounded the Steam pipe trunk distribution venue Ainsley opened a can of Fresca. *Knock, knock.* Sam rapped his knuckles on the metal door.

"Come in." Ainsley walked over to the filing cabinet. 'Lemme just file away these documents for Babish, and we'll be good to go for lunch.' *chumm-wEEEEEEEEEEEEEee… swi…... WEEE-ur.* She pulled the filing cabinet open.

Sam turned the door knob before he opened the creaky door. He beamed.

"Hey Honey." Ainsley's eyes twinkled as she filed away documents and Sam closed the door.

"Whatchya so excited 'bout?" Ainsley inquired.

"First of all," Sam stepped closer to her. "the fact that I get to do this." The filing cabinet closed as he pressed her against the filing cabinet and then kissed her.

"Oh," Ainsley caught her breath. "Well you're welcome to do that anytime."

"Second of all," Sam smiled. "the CBO projections for the surplus came in."

"And...?"

"They're projecting them 200 Billion down for 8 years out and 400 Billion down for 9 years out." Sam answered with pride.

"Oh." Her body chilled as her eyes avoided him.

"Ainse? Didya hear me? I said-" Sam started to say.

"Oh, I heard you." 'Loud and clear.' Ainsley's words froze her breath as she returned to her desk.

"Did I say something wrong?" His eyebrows knitted together.

"I'm just confused as to why you're so excited about lower federal government tax revenue, 'cause I thought the goal of tax collection was to generate as much revenue as possible to pay for the roads, schools, programs, medicare, conservation efforts, and so on. Correct?" Ainsley straightened a stack of papers.

"Yes."

"So shouldn't the tax code be set up to generate as much revenue as possible?" Ainsley argued as she booted up her computer.

"Yes, but the fact is is that projections are down from the initial estimates. It's not great that we have less money, but it'll make the floor fight against the tax cuts easier- "

Ainsley tilted her head as her eyes narrowed. "I'm sorry, ... why's the floor fight the priority?"

"Because that's how we get legislation passed."

Ainsley heaved a sigh. "You know what I mean. Shouldn't we try to pass tax code legislation that'll generate as much revenue as possible? An' yes, the projections are down from the initial estimations, but what're the projections in comparison to a progressive tax code?" Ainsley took a deep breath. "This is what drives me crazy 'bout the Democratic Party. "

"What, that we ask the top 1% pay more taxes than the middle and working classes? I think they can bear to give up a little bit of their money." Sam argued. "Y'know, I used to pay that tax rate."

"I know, Sam. …. An' they may have more money, but what that theory doesn't account for is the fact that it doesn't encourage the wealthy to invest and grow their businesses and as a result, provide more jobs for the working and middle classes because if they did so they would increase their income. And why would they want to do that if it's just going to be taxed at penalizing rates? You know the reason we had so much economic growth in the 80's-"

"You Republicans sure love your fearless leader Ronald Reagan."

Ainsley's temper rose. "Well aren't you precious. You Republicans?"

"Yes, you Republicans for some reason want the rich to keep all of the money while middle and working class families struggle to get by because some dead, rich actor said so." Sam said.

"Oh, bless your heart." Ainsley snapped as her eyes caught fire. "First of all, I've always been a fan of Ronald Reagan, but since when was I his cult follower? Second of all, you do realize that he didn't exactly grow up with a silver spoon in his mouth, right? And third, even if you taxed millionaires an' billionaires at a rate of 100%, that'd fund the government for less than a year. But lowering taxes on the wealthy helps create jobs 'cause they won't have to worry about payin' a higher tax rate if they earn more profits. An' the more jobs they create, or raises and promotions they give, the fewer people who'll need government programs because they will be moving into the middle and even upper classes. ... Unless of course the true goal of the Democratic Party is to centralize power, which would explain why you would celebrate lower tax revenue projections."

All color drained from Sam's face with wounded eyes. "I can't believe you just said that." Sam opened the door and then stormed out of her office.

"Sam -" She called after him as he pounded up the stairs.

An hour and a half later, delicate knuckles rapped on Ainsley's open door as she prepared legal documents for Babish, the White House Counsel.

"Ainsley?" Donna asked.

Ainsley's head jolted up. "Oh hi, Donna!"

"Can I come in?"

"Is Sam wi' you?" Ainsley filed away the documents.

"Nope. I just came by to drop this off for Josh." Donna assured her.

"Oh, come in then!" Ainsley perked up.

"Where can I put these?" Donna stepped inside.

"On the desk is fine."

"Everything okay?" Donna asked.

"Yeah, Sam an' I just had our first fight." Ainsley answered.

"You wanna talk about it?" Donna offered. "Sam's still in meetings for a couple hours, so we won't run into him in the Mess."

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Ainsley placed their trays with takeout baskets on the metal table.

"Ainsley, you want ketchup? " Donna called from the condiment counter.

"Yes, please." Ainsley pulled in her chair.

"Ainsley, Donna!" C.J. called out to them. "Mind if I join you guys?"

"Yeah, absolutely!" Ainsley waved C.J. over.

"I'll be right over, lemme get my food first." C.J. got in line.

"What would you like, Miss Cregg?"

"I'll have a cheeseburger and fries." C.J. answered.

"Ainsley, what soda d'ya want?" Donna asked as Charlie got in line behind C.J. "They got Stouts and IPAs."

"Coke, please." Ainsley requested.

"C.J.?" Donna turned towards the register.

"I'll have a Coke too." C.J. chose as Donna grabbed three beers from the cooler next to the condiment counter. "Carl, couldya please ring me up for a beer as well?"

"Yes, Miss Cregg. That'll be 12.75." Carl notified C.J. before she handed him her credit card.

Charlie stepped forward as C.J. stepped off to the side to wait for her order. "What would you like, Mr. Young?"

"I'll have a burrito an' a soda, please." Charlie replied.

"Carne Asada or Carnitas?" Carl asked.

"Carne Asada wi' chips, guacamole, an' salsa, please." Charlie selected.

"That'll be 11.50." Carl informed Charlie.

"C.J., I got your beer, napkins, and ketchup." Donna joined Ainsley at the table as Charlie paid for his food.

"Thanks, Donna." C.J replied from the order counter.

"Your welcome." Donna handed Ainsley her beer. "Here ya go."

"Thanks." Ainsley said as C.J. sat down.

"Your welcome, Ainsley." *Clee-clunk pphhhh*. Donna removed the bottle caps from her beer with her travel-sized bottle-opener. "Lemme get this straight." She passed Ainsley the bottle opener.

pi-th-sp th-th.* The ketchup spat out of the bottle as Donna squirted it next to her fries. *Pamp, pamp.* She tapped the bottom of the bottle. "I'm gonna get more ketchup. I'll be right back." She brought the ketchup bottle to the register. "Carl, could we have more ketchup, please?"

"Yes, Miss Moss." Carl took the bottle and refilled it. "Here you go, Miss Moss."

"Thank you."

"Your welcome." Donna said before she returned to the table. "As I was saying, Sam referred to you as 'you Republicans' and then he called you a 'reaganite cult follower' -"

"Sam called you that? Whadda dumbass." *Clee-clunk pphhhh*. C.J. opened her beer. "Why's he being all pissy then?"

" 'Cause she said that the Democratic Party's true motive is to gain power." Donna explained.

C.J's eyes went wide. "Oh. ….. That explains a lot."

"Ya do realize why he got upset, right?" Donna asked. "Don't get me wrong, he was a real dumbass when he called you a reaganite cult follower."

" 'Cause I challenged his world view of the Democratic Party." Ainsley ate her fries.

Donna shook her head. "Nope. When you said the 'Democratic Party', he took that as you saying that HE was perpetuating a fraud against the public for political power."

"But-" 'He shoulda known that I didn't mean it like that.'

"And that boy adores you with every fiber of his being and your opinion of him means everything to Sam." C.J. dabbed her lip corners with a napkin.

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The remaining daylight faded outside the Oval Office waiting room as Charlie and Mrs. Landingham sat at their desks.

Sam closed the Oval Office door behind him with defeated eyes. "Don't ever have a girlfriend, Charlie."

"Whadya do, Sam?" Mrs. Landingham glared up at Sam from her desk.

"What'd I do?" Sam's jaw dropped. "Why'd you assume it was my fault?"

"Because we are men, and therefore, it's always our fault." Charlie organized paperwork in the filing cabinet.

"Bu-" Sam protested.

"Bu' seriously, ma'." Charlie shut the filing cabinet. "I overheard Ainsley, Donna, and C.J. talking about it. …..This one's on you."

"Bu- But- uh-"

"A reaganite cult follower? …. Really Sam?" Mrs. Landingham scolded him.

"I didn't say-"

"Doesn't matter. It's what she heard." Charlie advised. "Look, Sam. ... At the end of the day, does it really matter who's in the wrong here or not? Is that really the hill you want your relationship to die on?"

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Ainsley's apartment intercom buzzed. "Ainsley, I'm sorry." Sam pleaded through the intercom. "Please, lemme come up. I brought food."

Ainsley pressed the talk button. "Come on up." She buzzed him in.

Knock, knock.* Sam arrived at her door with takeout and ice cream. "Ainsley, I am so sorry. I was an asshole-"

Ainsley waved him off. "No, I'm the one who should apologize. ... But we should talk 'bout how we're going to handle talkin' politics in our relationship."

"First of all, I took it too personally, so don't apologize." He set down the bags with the ice cream and the takeout. "I shoulda known that you didn't mean me specifically. Second of all, I shouldn't have said 'You Republicans'. I was outta line. I'm sorry. Third, I don't think that talking politics something we can avoid. You're incredibly sexy when you get fired up about tax cuts and the Second Amendment." He wrapped his arms around her.

"You're absolutely right 'bout that –"

"Couldya repeat that?" He cupped one hand to his ear as the hand that held the bags of takeout and ice cream rested on her hip . "Didya just say that I was right?"

"Yes, Sam. You can brag that, in addition to the fact that the girl who kicked your ass on National TV is your girlfriend, that she said you were right. The lovely people of Kirkland, California- your home state I might add- would be happy to hear about it." She said.

"Way to build up a guy's self esteem." He pouted.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Anyway, I was thinkin' that we should agree that it's okay to have debates as long we respect each other's opinions and don't make personal attacks. And if we mess up, which'll happen because I'm not perfect-"

"I respectfully disagree. You're the one single angel amidst a mob of dwarves, rats and droves of the swamp dwelling creatures of Washington DC." He said with pure, humble adoration for the love of his life.

"Well what about you, Sam? Are you perfect? Anyway. We'll have to agree never go to bed angry-"

"But what about all of the angry sex we'll miss out on?" He whispered with a cheeky grin.

"Samuel, you're not gettin' any if I'm mad at you." She asserted. "Anyway. We'll always kiss goodnight."

"But what if I want to do more than that?"

"Say-um." She rolled her eyes up at him in a glare.

"And do I only get to kiss you good night after we've had a fight?"

"Sam."

"Yes. That's my name, don't wear it out." His voice dropped to a low whisper into her ear, making her blush. "Although you might do that tonight."

"Samuel!" Her face turned deep red.

His voice returned to a normal volume. "One more question. I just want to make sure that I understand the rules correctly, Miss Ainsley Hayes. Do I have to wait until we go to bed before I kiss you? Because I don't know if I can do that."

"Would you like to kiss me, Samuel?"

"Yes please." He pleaded.

"Then shuddup an' kiss me, dammit." Ainsley giggled.

"Yes ma'am." He obliged as she grasped his auburn hair and he backed her up against the wall.

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Who was right? Who was wrong?

Which character(Donna CJ Charlie or Mrs. Landingham) had the best insight/criticism?

Were you surprised by the insight/criticism that they gave?

What were your favorite lines of the chapter?