Disclaimer:
-This chapter is based on the episode The US Poet Laureate. As usual, I do not own anything related to West Wing that you recognize.
-This time the chapter title isn't a pop culture reference.
Note: Since Ritchie is based on George W. Bush, I gave him the same educational background.
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Disclaimer:
-This chapter is based on the episode The US Poet Laureate. As usual, I do not own anything related to West Wing that you recognize.
-This time the chapter title isn't a pop culture reference.
Note: Since Ritchie is based on George W. Bush, I gave him the same educational background.
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Ainsley's POV:
Sam held the handrail and Ainsley sat on the hard plastic chair next to him as they took the shuttle to the hotel.
"Hey Babe?" Ainsley looked up at Sam.
"Mmmmm?"
"Thanks again for making this happen. I really do appreciate it." The morning sunshine danced across Ainsley's pale, creamy skin through the shuttle window.
"Anything for you." Sam said. His cell phone rang.
Ainsley's face fell. 'Seriously? We didn't even make it to the hotel.'
Sam flipped his phone open. "Toby?" He listened. "How did that happen? ….. We'll be there soon. I'll call you as soon as our flight's booked." He closed his phone.
"We gotta go back, don't we?" Ainsley asked.
Sam looked down in shame. "Yeah, I'm sorry Babe. I'll do my best to make it up to you."
Ainsley squeezed his hand. "It's okay. We can get away some other time." She kissed his cheek.
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Ainsley's POV
Travelers hustled around Sam and Ainsley as they arrived at their gate. "I'll be right back. I'm gonna go get us coffee." Ainsley sat down in the fake leather seat with their luggage. Sam came back thirty minutes later with a hazelnut latte, a lemon raspberry muffin, and a cream cheese for her and an earl grey tea for him. "One hazelnut latte, a lemon raspberry muffin, and one cream cheese. They didn't have peach muffins, so I got you a lemon raspberry instead."
Ainsley took her coffee, muffin, and cream cheese. "Thank you, Darlin'."
"They looked at me like I was crazy when I asked for a packet of cream cheese." Sam set down his tea in a cup holder.
"It's not my fault I'm the only one who knows that cream cheese belongs on muffins." Ainsley opened the cream cheese, cut her muffin in half, and put cream cheese on her muffin. "So what happened?"
Sam took her hand in his. "So you know how he has the energy panel coming up?"
"Yeah." Ainsley sipped her coffee.
"Well, he's been doing the local morning shows. He was on his tenth interview and after it was over, he was talking to the anchor. She asked him what he thought Ritchie,-"
'This can't be good.' Ainsley's eyes widened. "Oh no."
"And he said 'I think we might be talking about a .22 caliber mind in a .357 magnum world.'"
Ainsley's eyes popped. "He said that?! … Wha' in the Sam Hill was he thinkin'?"
"On B Roll."
"On B Roll? Lord, have mercy." Ainsley sipped her coffee as Sam looked down. She set her coffee down before she squeezed his hand. "Sweetheart, this isn't your fault." She kissed his cheek.
Sam's face wore a downcast expression. "You deserve better than a derailed vacation." He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed her knuckles.
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Ainsley's POV
Sam and Ainsley held hands as they entered the lobby of the West Wing. They scanned their badges at security before they headed down to the Communications Bullpen.
"Babe, let me take this for you while you go see Toby." Sam picked up her luggage.
Ainsley stood up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek as she touched the other cheek with her hand, making Sam blush. "Thank you so much, Sweetheart." Sam headed to his office when Ainsley knocked on Toby's door.
"Hey! Welcome back! By the way, congratulations. Babish is promoting you to Deputy." Toby said as Ainsley stood in the doorway. Meanwhile, Sam stole a quick glance at Ainsley and smiled.
'No.' "When did this happen?" Ainsley asked.
Toby stood up. "Right after I told Bill Wachtell that we already had." He walked towards the door and Ainsley followed him.
"Because I'm a Republican?" Ainsley asked.
"I assume that Sam filled you in?" Toby and Ainsley left his office and then the Bullpen en route to her office.
"Yes. What do you need?" Ainsley asked.
"Capitol Beat, Capitol Gang, Inside Politics." Toby said.
"To say what?"
" 'The President isn't an elitist. He respects everyone.' " Toby said.
'He is an elitist, even if he is a good President.' "And that's why he made a Southern Republican who disagrees with him a deputy counsel." Ainsley and Toby walked down the stairs. "He is an elitist."
Toby raised both eyebrows as he took a deep breath. "Here we go."
"It's elitist, geocentric, Ivy League snobbery-"
Toby cut her off, his volume escalating. "All right. Let's clear up a couple of things. First of all, Notre Dame isn't a member of the Ivy League. They play football as an independent. They play basketball in the Big East. Second, we're very interested in education in this White House, so can you tell me what's wrong with the Ivy League? Should we be discouraging parents from hoping their kids get into Princeton and Yale and Dartmouth?"
"That's a great goal, but an elite education isn't everything. You can be a good leader without writing six journal articles on monetary support mechanisms." Ainsley said.
"You need to understand policy if you're gonna set it!" Toby's voice boomed. "And at this point, I'd be astonished to discover that Ritchie had read as many as six journal articles on anything other than athletic support mechanisms."
'This is true, but you're missing the point. It's not all or nothing.' "There's a difference between intellect and instinct." They entered her office where daylight streamed through her large windows.
"252 million people in the country. Ya don't think we'd oughta be able to elect somebody who's got both?"
"I'm sayin'… Presidents can have good advisors." 'In Ritchie's case, he'd need a lot.' Ainsley walked around her desk to her swivel chair.
"Good advisors could better advise informed and curious Presidents." Toby popped a tic tac in his mouth.
Ainsley skimmed through the paperwork on her desk before she looked up. "But what happens when Ivy League Presidents surround themselves with intellectual snobs? … Look. All I know is … we got into Vietnam courtesy of the Beltway Chapter of the Harvard Alumni Association." Ainsley sat down. 'Y'all just don't get it. One of these days, the people'll have had enough.'
"Except that's not all you know because you're bright and you're curious and you worked hard, and you got into Smith and you got your law degree where? Cambridge, Massachusetts. You lose, I win." Toby turned around to walk out.
Ainsley wore a thoughtful, disappointed expression. "We were on vacation."
Toby turned back around. "Life's tough in the aluminum siding business. Check the press office on your TV schedule."
"I will do the TV shows because I serve at the pleasure of the President, but I do not want a promotion that I didn't earn." Ainsley said.
"I'll talk to Babish." Toby said.
"Well, ... let me check out the pay differential first." Ainsley said.
"You bet." Toby walked out.
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Sam's POV
"You know… it's been weird ever since Josh and Toby moved out." Sam's arm was wrapped around Ainsley's waist. "I guess I'm just so used to having roommates that it'll take some getting used to."
The half-empty Chinese takeout boxes sat on the coffee table while Ainsley snuggled into Sam under a throw blanket, their hands clasped. "I know that look. What's on your mind?" Sam asked as Law and Order played on TV.
"It's just everything that's happened with this Ritchie business. I know that y'all mean well, but I feel like sometimes y'all don't get it." Ainsley rested her head on Sam's shoulder.
"We don't get what?" Sam kissed Ainsley's temple.
Ainsley took a deep breath. "An elite education is great, but it's not everything. Real-world experience can teach you just as much as going to an Ivy League. Sometimes the rest of us feel like the Political Elite class looks down on us and has the 'We need to make your decisions because we have PhDs and we know best.' mentality. Politicians like Ritchie are popular because he doesn't make the average American feel patronized."
"Don't take this the wrong way, … but … aren't you part of this alleged 'Political Elite class' with an Ivy League degree?" Sam asked.
"Well…. I did get my JD/MBA from Harvard and my family is wealthy, but I put myself through undergrad waiting tables and then managing the restaurant. I joined the Navy as an officer, left the Navy, and then I supported myself through Law School managing a restaurant again. All that gave me real-world experience." Ainsley said.
"What d'you mean?" Sam played with Ainsley's hair.
"I'm sayin'… that a leader doesn't need an ivy league education." Ainsley said.
"Shouldn't a leader understand policy?" Sam asked.
"Absolutely, but you don't have to have an Ivy League education to do that. And an Ivy League education doesn't necessarily mean that you'll understand policy either. Take Ritchie for example." Ainsley said.
"What?" Sam furrowed his brows.
"Ritchie went to Phillips Academy for prep school, Yale for undergrad, and then he got his MBA at Harvard." Ainsley stroked Sam's thumb with hers.
"He did? Wow. I didn't know that." Sam said.
"I'm not sayin' that Ritchie's the perfect candidate, but an ivy league education isn't the end all be all. What I'm tryin' to say is that Ritchie's popularity isn't because most people want a politician who doesn't know anything. He's popular because people feel like he understands what they go through. Now I'm not sayin' that this applies to you, but the Political Elite tends to think that they're smarter than the rest of us. We tend to feel like the Political Elite think they have the right to make our decisions."
"Which is something the Republicans never do, except when it comes to a woman's right to choose or a gay man's or lesbian woman's right to be true to their sexuality." Sam teased as he gave Ainsley a cheeky smile. 'I love it when I get you all riled up.'
"First of all, the Pro-Life movement isn't about restricting a woman's personal liberty. Once a baby is involved, it's not just about what the mother wants or doesn't want. We advocate for the baby's right to live."
"What about the baby's quality of life once the baby's born? Why don't Republicans support services such as welfare?" Sam asked.
"Because, ... now don't take this the wrong way, ... but the Federal Government sucks at it." Her eyes twinkled as she kissed his cheek. "The Welfare State is a perfect example of why it's better to let the market create as much prosperity as possible. It creates a vicious cycle of government dependency that leads to fatherless homes, gang violence, drugs, poverty, and teen pregnancy. It's better to let the market create jobs and private charities provide the support. That's why churches work tirelessly to support the mothers and the babies. The mothers also have the option to put the baby up for adoption."
"What about all the kids in foster care?" Sam asked.
"Most of those kids aren't eligible for adoption because the goal is reunification with their families. And about the issue of gay rights: the current Republican Party platform may be against gay rights, but I honestly don't think the Party will stay that way. There's even a group of Republicans called the Log Cabin Republicans that have been around since the late '70s and supports gay rights." Ainsley said. "Anyway. Many Americans would like a government that does just enough to take care of National Security, law and order, trade agreements that serve the country's interests, immigration, border security, and individual liberty. Many politicians have the luxury of making policies but never have to deal with the consequences. Most politicians don't understand what it's like to barely keep their businesses afloat due to the excessive taxes that businesses get."
"And Ritchie is in touch with what regular Americans deal with, even though he's an idiot?" Sam asked.
"No. I'm sayin' that many think he's in touch with regular everyday Americans, when in reality, he's not. In reality, he got where he is in this race because his daddy's a big wig in the Republican Establishment. If that man had an idea, it would die of loneliness."
'Oh, that's a good one.' Sam laughed. "Did you just say that if Ritchie 'had an idea, then it would die of loneliness?"
"Yes, I did." Ainsley said. "But anyway. He knows how to present himself in a way that doesn't make people feel like he's talking down to them. The country is gonna get to a point where they just don't put up with the condescending mentality anymore and they'll be looking for a candidate who's smart, has real-world experience, and actually understands what it's like to be a regular person. Average Americans are tired of being treated like they're dumb." They snuggled on the couch for a minute before Ainsley spoke. "So we have the whole apartment to ourselves."
Sam's hands slid under her lacy panties. "Why, yes… yes, we do."
Ainsley looked up at Sam with bedroom eyes. "So… that means we can do whatever we want, …wherever we want, … and whenever we want." Ainsley breathed into his ear as she pressed soft kisses to his jaw.
Sam quirked an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? What d'you have in mind?"
Ainsley straddled him before she took off her Harvard shirt, revealing her black and red lacy bra.
Xxxxx
Sam's POV
"Let's start a pool to guess how long the senior communications official is going to keep his job if once a day he suggests we call his candidate stupid. Somebody's got to step in and stop this fight 'cause we're the only ones scoring points, and we're not even playing. Mark?" C.J said in the press conference on television.
Sam laid back on Toby's couch with his head leaning against one hand. "She's got a point there." He gestured with his other hand.
Ainsley turned to Sam. "Does it concern you that the smartest Presidents have been the worst?"
'What?' Sam turned his head to Ainsley. "I don't grant your premise, but…"
"John Quincy Adams was so full of himself, he could hardly build a coalition around having eggs for breakfast. How many grand theories of international relations did Wilson come up with that were dead on the arrival in Congress?"
Sam shrugged it off. "I don't care."
"Why?" Ainsley asked.
"Because before I look for anything, I look for a mind at work." 'Like you. You're a mind at work.' "Nobody's saying the President needs to have a tenured chair in semiotics, but you have to have…" Sam trailed off. 'How do I describe it?'
"What?" Ainsley asked.
"Gravitas!" 'And you've got it, Babe.' Sam gazed at Ainsley.
Ainsley leaned forward, resting her elbows on her colonial blue business skirt. "And how do you measure that?"
"You don't, but we know it when we see it, and Republicans tend to mock it when they do. … You think I'm wrong?"
"I do not." Ainsley said.
"No, you don't, … and the way I know you don't is I saw you say so on television." Sam said.
Toby stood in his office doorway, still wearing his brown wool coat. Sam addressed him. "Hey, Toby."
Ainsley stood up before Toby addressed Sam. "Why are you here?"
"The TV isn't working in my office." Sam said.
Toby turned to Ainsley. "You did good on TV."
"Thanks. I'll be in my office." Ainsley left, the sound of her sandals audible as she walked through the West Wing.
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Sam's POV
Sam got out of the car to open the door for Ainsley. He took her hand as she stepped out of the car in her emerald green ball gown with an inverted halter neck. The beading throughout the dress and the rhinestones along the collar twinkled. They walked hand in hand up to the entrance to the lobby. "Hey, Babe?"
Ainsley smiled. "Mmmmm?"
"I'm gonna need you to do something but I can't tell you what for, not yet at least." Sam brought her hand up to his lips and kissed her knuckles.
"Okay." She punched the code into the keypad outside her apartment building.
Sam held the door for her. "I need you to pack enough clothes for the weekend."
"Can you give me a hint?" She asked.
Sam shook his head. "No."
"But how will I know what clothes to pack?" She asked.
"You could always let me pack for you." Sam grinned.
"Last time I had you grab clothes for me, all I had for the whole weekend was lingerie." Ainsley said.
Sam's cornflower blue eyes glinted with mischief. "Didya ever consider that was the plan?"
Ainsley returned the mischievous expression as she played with his tie. "I have to admit, that was a pretty good plan." She held his cheek in her hand and kissed him. They broke apart and looked at each other for a moment.
'That's not gonna work.' "Is that so? You naughty girl." Sam returned her kiss.
"But seriously. Can you please give me something to work with? Are we going to a cabin? Are we going to Paris? Where are we going?" Ainsley batted her eyelashes.
"No hints." Sam smiled before he kissed her.
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Ainsley's POV
The next morning, Sam carried his and Ainsley's luggage. "My God, woman. Did you leave anything at home?"
Ainsley shrugged. "You left me no choice but to pack for all contingencies. Unless of course you wanna give a hint."
Sam laughed. "No, but nice try." They got off the elevator and then walked through the lobby and the revolving doors. They arrived at the curb outside where a limousine waited for them. The driver stepped out and took their luggage.
'Wait… no…. Could it be?' Ainsley's jaw dropped. "Wait... is this… for us?"
Sam nodded. "I wanted to do something special."
"Something special? What's the occasion?" Ainsley asked.
"We never got our Hilton Head vacation, so I wanted to make it up to you."
Ainsley was blown away. "Oh, Sam." She firmly secured her hands in his lush, auburn hair as she gave him a passionate kiss and Sam pulled her in at the waist.
The limousine pulled up to the hotel. "Now I know it's not Hilton Head or Paris, but Annapolis is a great city with some beautiful ocean views." Sam said just before the driver let them out.
"That sounds perfect. Thank you." Ainsley gave Sam a soft kiss.
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Ainsley's POV
Sam and Ainsley lay naked wrapped up in each other under the tangle of sheets. "Sam?" Ainsley traced Sam's chest muscles with her finger.
"Yes?" Sam asked.
"Everything this weekend's been so wonderful, but I hope you know that I wasn't expecting you to do all this." Ainsley said.
"It's just that I felt horrible that we had to cancel Hilton Head because of me." Sam's hand stroked the curve of her hip.
"It wasn't your fault." Ainsley held his cheek in her hand and kissed the other one. "Besides … they needed me back too."
"You say that now," Sam kissed her temple. "but I know what happens to most Washington relationships."
"What d'you mean?" Ainsley said.
"Doing what we do…. It takes a big toll on our personal lives, and our relationships usually suffer. Eventually, one person gets to the point where they're tired of canceled vacations and missed dance recitals and forgotten anniversaries…. I just don't want that to be us." Sam held Ainsley tighter against his body.
"And it won't be us." Ainsley kissed Sam's shoulder.
"That's easy for you to say now, but it takes a lot of work. What I'm saying is I want you to know that no matter what is going on in Washington or my career, you … and our family… will always come first. I may have to miss a few things and I'll have lots of late nights, but I'll always make it up to you."
Ainsley smiled. "Our family?" She pictured herself raising their future kids with dark-haired and green-eyed kids with Sam. 'He's gonna be such a great dad, isn't he?'
"Yes. Someday." Sam kissed her hair.
"Mrs. Seaborn. Ainsley Seaborn. I like the sound of that." She continued to smile as she pictured their life together.
"My point is that I don't want us to end up like Leo and his wife or my parents. You and our family are too important to me." Sam said. Ainsley responded with a passionate kiss.