Title: Stay Anyway 19/?

Author: Amber (Ambino1111@prodigy.net)

Disclaimers & other notes in Part 1

Previously, in Stay Anyway…

Sam sees his ex-fiancée Lisa as she takes a tour of the White House with her son Alexander. He talks with her and they decide to go to dinner the next night. A political snafu pops up before their dinner, and they end up eating with Josh and Donna in the White House. Lisa vows to hook up Josh and Donna, the latter becoming a new friend. Sam encourages Lisa to stay so they can talk about what happened between them, and as she is singing her son to sleep in Josh's office, Sam talks with Josh and Donna. He goes ballistic when Josh asks if he still loves Lisa. Sam and Lisa decide not to talk about what happened, although Lisa rhetorically asks "How did we get here?" Flashbacks: Lisa is a dentist and first meets Sam at an appointment. Fast forward to Sam and Lisa living together. A misunderstanding occurs when Sam's plans for a surprise party make Lisa suspicious. She tracks down the woman she thinks he's having an affair with, and discovers it was Josh, who had been helping Sam plan everything. At the party, she and Josh, realizing who they are, react strangely when introduced, which makes Sam wonder. He confronts Josh, who tells him the truth. Sam tells Lisa it was all just a misunderstanding and they drop it. Back to the present, where Lisa informs Sam that she and Alex are moving to DC He offers to let her stay at his apartment until hers is ready - she says she'll think about it. Instead, she accepts Donna's offer to live with her and refuses to call Sam and tell him. Sam and Josh have a heart-to-heart about women, and Josh learns about the office-wide pool betting on when he and Donna would admit their feelings. Meanwhile, at Donna's, Lisa comforts Donna, who admits that Josh treats her like a platonic wife. Josh shows up at her apartment, drunkenly informing her of his love, and Donna makes him leave. While waiting for the cab, Josh tells Lisa that Sam still loves her. In the middle of the night, Sam comes over to Donna's and demands to know where Lisa is. He and Lisa have a huge fight that ends with Sam yelling that he loves her. Later that day, Lisa calls Sam and tells him it's over - they shouldn't even see each other anymore. At lunch, Sam decides to ask Ainsley out to dinner and she agrees. Fast forward to Lisa and Alex waiting in the mess to eat lunch with Donna. Before she arrives, Lisa meets Ainsley, who is waiting to eat with Sam. An awkward situation insues, in which both Sam and Lisa pretend to not know each other.

*****

'You know, a lot of people are under the impression you get to choose who you fall in love with." – Leroy, The Mexican

*****

I never thought this would happen. Not in a million years.

HR 206 passed earlier this afternoon in a surprisingly not-as-close-as-we-thought-it'd-be vote.

It's a great cause for jubilation. CJ, Toby, Josh, and Donna are going out for dinner and drinks to celebrate. They invited me, but I already had plans with Ainsley.

That's right. This will be our third dinner date (sixth overall, if you count the three lunches) and so far everything is going well. I'm having so much fun with Ainsley that I haven't even thought about Lisa.

Honest.

Well, despite that, life has been great for me since Tuesday afternoon. I haven't laughed this much in… months, it seems, and I can't stop smiling. I think it's doing wonders for my health: I slept for five straight hours last night, and I feel like a new man.

"Sam, are you paying attention?" Ainsley's gentle voice stirs me from my thoughts.

"Hmm?" Man, she looks amazing in that outfit.

"Well, the check came three minutes ago, and you've just been sitting there, staring into space. Is everything all right?"

"Yeah. Yes."

"Do you want to leave?"

"Uh yeah, sure. Yes. That sounds great. I snatch up the check and pull out my wallet, shaking my head slightly to clear away the cobwebs of thought. Ainsley, being the independent woman that she is, insisted that we switch off paying for the meals, which, while at first clashing with my gentlemanly ways, ultimately agreed with my budget.

I reach across the table and wordlessly hand Ainsley one of the peppermints from our check. Our hands brush against each other and there's a tingle of electricity between us.

I go and quickly pay the bill, then come back and stand next to her. "So, what do you want to do now?" I ask after pulling out enough bills to cover the tip. Ainsley smiles shyly.

"I was thinking I could give you a haircut," She offers, eyes twinkling.

I narrow my eyes playfully. "You _really_ don't like my hair, do you?"

"It's too long for you, Sam. It looks much better when it's short."

"Well, then. In that case..." I trail off and extend my hand to her in an overly-chivalrous gesture. "My place, or yours?"

She shrugs and takes my hand. I help her into her coat before slipping on my own. "I bet mine's cleaner," She teases. We make our way to the front of the restaurant.

"Mine's plenty clean!" I defend, holding open the door. For the first time, I notice it's pouring outside.

"Really?" She seems honestly surprised by my words. This will never do. I must defend my self-proclaimed title of "Housekeeper."

"Taxi!" I call, looking down the street before looking over at Ainsley. We're getting drenched, but I don't have an umbrella or anything. Stupid meteorologists. "I'll show you how clean my apartment is. I bet you ten dollars it's cleaner than yours."

"And how are we going to judge that?"

"I don't know. I'll trust your judgment."

"You will? We Republicans are known to be penny-pinchers," She jokes.

"I trust you," I state in a much-too-serious voice. To maintain the levity, I stick my tongue out. Ainsley rolls her eyes and shakes her head at me.

"Sam, sometimes, I'm afraid, you act even younger than you look."

Exactly seventeen minutes later I am fumbling with my keychain outside of my apartment. We are both dripping water all over the hallway carpet. I pick up the keys after they slip from my wet fingers, find the key, and unlock the door, swinging it open with a grand motion. "Come enter my humble abode, Ainsley."

She smiles and slowly walks in. I can't tell if it's shyness or caution. Maybe a little of both.

"It's nice, Sam. It's a nice place," She compliments, slowly spinning around and examining the room. She starts to take off her soggy coat.

"Thanks. I'd like to live here someday."

She turns to look at me and flashes me another one of her smiles. I smile back, momentarily forgetting how to be a good host and just reveling in the warmth of the moment.

"Oh!" My manners come rushing back. "Are you hungry or thirsty? I think I have -"

"No, I'm fine, Sam. We just came from dinner, remember?"

I nod dumbly, feeling my heart racing.

"I, uh, if you want, I could toss your clothes in the dryer for a bit. I have some sweatpants, or a robe you could wear. You could even pretend you've sat in paint again."

Now it's her turn to stick her tongue out. "That sounds great. I feel like a drowned animal of some sort."

"I'll be right back." I smile and disappear into my room. Would a robe be construed as more intimate than a sweat suit? I don't know; I've never been good at these sort of cultural rules. I quickly dig out two parts of sweat pants and two sweatshirts. I'll give Ainsley the robe, too, just to cover the bases.

I peel off my wet clothes and change in record time. Seconds later I'm back in the living room, wet clothes in one hand, dry in the other.

"Thank you, Sam," She says sincerely, accepting my offer.

"You're welcome. The bathroom is down the hallway, first door on the left."

She nods and squishes down the hallway. I put my wet stuff in the dryer and go back into the living room. The silence becomes too much to take, and I turn the stereo on low, searching for a jazz station. A long time ago Josh and I came to the conclusion that jazz was always the way to go on a date.

I need all the help I can get, too. Right now I'm trying not to picture her changing in my bathroom. We need to be careful. We're starting to enter uncharted territory.

"So, do you want to do it in here, or the kitchen?"

What?!?

"What?!?" My voice is, I swear to God, three octaves higher than normal.

"The haircut. You know. Do you want to do it in here, or the kitchen? The clean-up would, in my opinion, be easier in the kitchen, but anywhere is fine."

Oh.

"Yeah, the kitchen's fine. Here, I'll take your clothes," I take her bundle of dripping articles of clothing and toss them in the dryer with mine.

I make a detour to the bathroom, where I grab a few towels and a comb. Back in the living room, Ainsley has picked up some safety pins and a pair of scissors from my desk.

"These will have to do," She says, following me into the kitchen. I pull a chair from the table and place it in the middle of the room.

"Sit," She instructs. I nod obediently and seat myself in the chair. I'm strangely excited right now.

She sets to work, first pinning the towels around my neck. After that, she starts to comb through my hair, a process which takes a matter of seconds.

"Do you cut hair a lot?" I ask after a moment of silence. I hear the scissors being opened.

"I used to. I had four younger brothers and sisters, and to save money my mom taught me how to cut hair."

I nod, gaining a clucking sound from the woman behind me. "Don't move, Sam. Unless you want a lopsided hairdo."

I smile, deciding I wouldn't really mind it that much.

For a while, the only sounds I hear are the clacking noises of the scissors and the quiet jazz music from the other room. It occurs to me how extremely romantic this whole thing is.

Ainsley suddenly stops cutting and pulls a chair in front of me. Our faces are inches from each other.

"Hello."

"Hello, Sam. How're you doing?" She plays along, smiling shyly. I smile back and watch her work in fascination. The tip of her tongue is sticking out of the corner of her mouth as she concentrates. It's absolutely adorable. She leans forward slightly to comb out what I suppose are considered my bangs. As she reaches up with the scissors to start cutting, I lean forward and kiss her, taking both of us by surprise.

The surprise doesn't last long, however, and the kiss soon deepens. It isn't our first, but I'd say it's our first real one. I haven't wanted to rush anything.

And oh, is it worth the wait! She tastes heavenly - a bit like honey, actually. As our tongues meet, I hear the scissors clatter to the ground. She puts her hands on my face, drawing me closer to her.

Knock.

At first, neither of us heard the knock at the door. Then it came again, louder and longer.

Dammit.

"Hang on," I say breathlessly, reluctantly breaking our kiss. I walk over to the door while brushing hair off of my shirt, feeling Ainsley's eyes on me. I look through the peephole.

"You've got to be kidding me," I mutter. Then I swing open the door.

TBC