Title: Stay Anyway 6/?

Author: Amber (Ambino1111@prodigy.net)

Disclaimers and other notes can be found in Prologue

Previously, in Stay Anyway…

Part 1…

… Josh and I are working our butts off on the latest Health Care Package, an amendment to H.R. 206.

… The President, CJ, Toby, and Charlie are in China until Monday evening.

… Josh lets out a snort. He wiggles his index finger in my direction. "You

were engaged to this woman, you haven't seen her in years, and all you can

say is 'she got a haircut'?" "Well, she did," I defend, looking down at my hands briefly. "That, and a baby."

Part 2…

… I can remember Sam leaving as if it were yesterday, yet... it's been over three years and, at times, seems decades longer.

… She shifts in her seat suddenly and thrusts a manicured hand in my direction. "I'm sorry, I didn't introduce myself. I'm Donnatella Moss, Josh Lyman's assistant." I chortle in amused sympathy, which causes Donna to grin. "I somehow doubt Josh's personality has changed much in three years." I pause. "You're a very brave woman."

… The door opens again and I sigh. Gathering my courage I stand, ready to face my ex-fiancee.

Part 3…

… Lisa and I are staring at each other, and Donna coughs slightly, backing into the Roosevelt Room. "I'll be in here, if you, uh, well, we'll be here." Then she's gone, and it's just Lisa and me... and Alex.

… Why does politics always come between Lisa and me?

Part 4…

… His face brightens and he smiles one of his killer smiles. I always loved his perfect white teeth, and it has nothing to do with professional appreciation.

… "I - I... we... why does everyone think we should date? Donna is my friend and a fine assistant, and we are both professionals."

… "You can both be professionals and be in love," I tell him truthfully. He doesn't meet my eyes.

… My body tenses immediately. "Sam, I don't want to do this right now," My voice carries with it a silent plea. Sam either misses or ignores it. "Lisa, please. I think we need to talk about it."

… Then Sam coughs and the spell is broken, and he leads the way to Josh's office.

Part 5…

… I stand up, more furious than I should be but unable to help it. "No. You know what? No! We're not getting into this. I know you mean well, but frankly, this is none of your goddamn business. Yes, I was engaged to Lisa, but that was before the campaign and has no relevance to anything. And unless I express them verbally, my thoughts and feelings are mine and mine alone. I'm sick and tired of being 'Poor Little Innocent Sam' whose life's purpose is to amuse the White House Staff with tales of his misadventures.

… Oh great. This is fitting; this is perfect. I take it back - the last thing I want to do right now is talk to Lisa.

… "Oh, Sam," Lisa sighs. I look up at her as she gestures vaguely with her left hand. "This - this was never supposed to happen; this wasn't supposed to be us... How did we get here?"

*****

"Love at first sight
I know that this can't be happening
No, not to someone like me
Love at first sight
So rare, and so exciting
I only hope this love we found can last."

- Love at First Sight, Dennis DeYoung

*****

"What song is this?" Helen inquires, tapping furiously on her keyboard. I flip the file folder I'm reading shut, listening intently to the faint music.

"All I can tell is that it's elevator music," I conclude, plopping down in Joy's swivel chair. Joy, the other receptionist at Durham Family Dentistry, has called in sick today, along with my colleague, Dr. Bruce Burrows. My assistant, Debbie Thomson, is on her lunch break, due back in forty-five minutes. Poor Helen and I are all alone. It's only eleven-seventeen in the morning, but it feels more like five thirty at night. At least now there's a lull in the onslaught of patients.

"This is going to bug me until I figure it out," I announce to Helen. She's still typing away at the computer. I jump to my feet and head towards the rows of filing cabinets in the back of the office, trying unsuccessfully to hum along with the stereo.

"It's been bugging me all morning," Helen complained. "I don't know what CD Debbie put in, and I don't recognize any of the songs."

The phone rings, ending our conversation. "Durham Family Dentistry. This is Helen speaking. How can I help you this morning?"

I smile at her familiar cheery spiel, placing the file folder in the appropriate slot and grabbing another.

Someone clears their throat behind me and I jump, spilling all of the multi-colored papers on the floor. My face flushes bright red as the unidentified person laughs quietly. I bend down, keeping my back facing the person as I gather the mess into a pile.

"Can I help you?" I ask coldly, spinning around to face whoever it is. My heart stops and I swear my eyes bug out. This man is gorgeous.

"Yes. Sorry about that," He apologizes, shooting me a friendly smile. "It's just - it looked like something _I _ would do. In fact, I'm sure I've done that many times before."

I'm standing still, staring at this man in a most unprofessional manner but unable to stop. I never believed in love at first sight, but...

"Uh, I'm Sam Seaborn. I have an eleven-thirty appointment to fill some cavities?" He sounds like he's trying to jog my memory, and he has.

"Yes, yes. Right this way, Mr. Seaborn," I say, straightening the papers sticking out of the file in my hands and motioning him down the hallway. "Right this way."

I lead him to the third room and tell him to have a seat. He complies as I place the folder on the counter and survey my instruments. I flip his file open and scan the information, silently willing my heart to slow down.

"Okay, Mr. Seaborn. You better get comfortable because you're going to be here for a while," I proclaim, opening the cabinets to pull out a paper bib and a pair of gloves.

"How long is 'a while'?" He asks, a tinge of nervousness in his voice. Poor guy.

"Well, from a professional point of view, it's only an hour or so. From what I've been told, it seems longer if you're a patient."

"From what you've been told?" He asks as I approach him with the bib.

"Yeah. I've never had a cavity myself," I inform him, slipping the cord around his head. He leans forward slightly so I can clasp it, and my stomach flutters.

"You've never had a cavity?!?" From the tone of his voice, I take it he's surprised.

"Nope. Never. I'm a nut for dental hygiene. You know, your teeth are the best friends you've got; you take care of them, they'll take care of you."

I cringe at the stupidity of my statement, but thankfully he doesn't seem to mind. I busy myself with putting on my mask and preparing the shot of Novocain, hoping he'll change the subject.

"I've never thought of it that way," He says politely. I still feel like an idiot.

I sit down on my stool and wheel around to face him. "Anyway, you've got three cavities. One of them is on the top of your left side, one is on the top on your right, and the last one is way in the back on the bottom right. Now, I could do them all at once, but your entire mouth would have to be numbed. Or, if you want, we could do one side today, and you can make another appointment… What will it be, Mr. Seaborn?"

"Sam."

"Hmm?"

"Call me Sam."

"Oh -okay."

"How about we do it all today? I've already called taken the day off of work."

"All right," I say, wheeling myself back over to his chart. "Three it is." I adjust the light and pick up a cotton swab. "I'm just going to rub this on so the shot doesn't hurt so much," I explain.

"Do you work with children a lot?" He asks when I finish.

"Well, this _is_ Durham Family Dentistry, so yes," I respond with a smile, picking up the syringe of Novocain. "Why do you ask?"

"You just have a very good chairside manner, that's all."

I dip my head so he can't see me blushing. "Okay, this may sting a little bit, but it won't last long," I warn, injecting his gums. He grunts softly.

"Now we wait," I announce, cleaning up the supplies I've used. "It should start feeling numb in about ten minutes."

Sam nods and shifts in the chair so he can see me.

"You guys seem a little short-handed today," He observes congenially, watching as I slip on my mask.

"Yup, the other dentist and assistant called in sick, and my assistant is out to lunch."

"Ah. Sorry to hear that."

"Me, too. It's been a hectic morning." I pause, feeling a strong desire to find out more about this handsome man with three cavities. I'm not sure if this is quite ethical, but I can't help myself. "So... I read in your insurance information you work for Dewey & Ballantine. Are you a lawyer?"

"Yeah," An odd emotion passes over his face, but I can't identify it.

My eyebrows furrow in curiosity. "You don't like it?"

He looks surprised at my assessment. "No, it's not that, really. It's... it's just not what I thought it would be. You know?"

"I can empathize. Somehow dentistry doesn't hold the glory I thought it would."

He laughs, and I can tell that despite his cavity problems he has a terrific smile. I wonder if he uses whitening toothpaste...?

"It feels tingly now," He confesses after a few more minutes of smalltalk, lightly rubbing his jaw.

"That's good. That means it's working," Why do I suddenly sound like my mother? "Now open wide."

He does, and I set right to work, ignoring the impure thoughts that pop up when his tongue inadvertently touches my hand. Sadly, it's been a while since I've had a boyfriend.

After a long bout of silence he vocalizes something that sounds like "Who-he-men-rip-sodey."

I stop and stare down at the man in confusion. His mouth is wide open, and I have placed various dental instruments inside. Even after years of experience with open-mouthed conversations I can't understand a word he's saying.

"What?"

"Who-he-me-in-rip-sodey," He repeats, speaking slower in the hopes that I'll understand him. Yeah, right.

"Who-he-me-in-rip-sodey?" I question, checking on his filling. He shakes his head as well as he can with my fingers in his mouth.

"Unh uh," He croaks.

"Hang on," I tell him, tightening the brace and leaning back. "I'll get you some paper and a pen."

I scoot across the room on my stool and snatch a pad and pen, then scoot back to his side to hand them over. He uncaps the pen and scribbles away, allowing me to observe how funny it looks when a person writes with his mouth wide open.

"Who. He. Me. In. Rip. Sodey." He declares, thrusting the notepad in my hands. I look down and read it.

"Ahh!" I remark, still confused. He motions for the pad again and I comply. He adds something and hands it back, tapping it emphatically.

"The song on the radio when I got here," I read, finally comprehending it. "Ohh! Bohemian Rhapsody! I get it!"

Sam sits back, triumphant. "Who-he-me-in-rip-sodey."

I nod and wipe the drool from his mouth. Somehow he manages not to lose his dignity at the action. Not many people can do that.

"Thank you," I say quietly, staring into his oh-so-blue eyes. They remind me of the ocean. "Helen will be very pleased. You may have just saved her sanity. Mine, too."

We sit there, looking at each other, for a delightfully long moment, then there's a knock at the door. It's Debbie, back from lunch.

"Looks like our bonding time is over," I whisper as I stand to greet my friend and co-worker. I note happily that Sam's trying to smile.

Not long after that, all three of his cavities are set. Debbie heads to the room across the hall to prep our next patient, and I lead Sam to Helen's desk.

"If you have any problems, questions, or concerns, just give us a call," I conclude, filling out the rest of a form in his folder.

He hands Helen a check and waits patiently while she prints him a receipt. After he carefully folds it in four and secures it in his wallet, he takes a step towards me.

"Ow woo fwee Fwiday night foh dinnah?" He asks shyly, running a hand through his hair. I look up from my paperwork, surprised.

"Pardon?"

"I thed, 'ow woo fwee Fwiday night foh dinnah?'"

I feel Helen's eyes boring a hole into the side of my head as I force my brain to respond coherently.

"Y-yes. Yes, I am."

"Gweat." He attempts a smile and fails, his muscles too doped up on the drug to respond. The endeavor looks hilariously funny, but I suppress my laughter.

"Oh," I exclaim suddenly, reaching down on the desk for a post-it note. "Here's my number. Give me a call when the Novocain wears off."

I jot down my phone number and rip off the sticky note. As I hand him the note we brush fingers, and I feel a shiver run up and down my spine.

"Gweat," His eyes twinkle and he spins around, humming Queen's 'Bohemian Rhapsody' as he walks out of the door. I can't help smiling after him.

Helen points at him victoriously. "That's it! That's the song!"

I nod dumbly, still smiling. "Yeah. Queen. 'Bohemian Rhapsody.'"

"I _knew_ it," She mutters, then jumps to her feet to give me a congratulatory hug.

"He's adorable. Absolutely yummy."

"Oh yeah." My throat feels a tad dry. I sink into Joy's chair as Helen returns to her computer. A new song is playing, and I recognize it immediately: The Beatles' 'With a Little Help From my Friends'.

I shake my head to gather my thoughts, and softly sing to myself as I head to see my next patient.

TBC