A/N: Sorry it's short, but I figured if I kept the chapters shorter, I could post more frequently.
Jamie wasn't entirely sure what she was doing at the mall with Sam Seaborn and Donna Moss. These were people who worked in the White House. She was just a student and part-time receptionist/assistant/whatever. And she was shopping. With Sam Seaborn and Donna Moss. Shopping.
She was okay with Donna, though. Donna was smart and funny and surprisingly nice. Sam, on the other hand . . . Sure, he was sweet (not to mention drop-dead gorgeous, Jamie thought wistfully) but he was still the Deputy Chief of Communications. He spoke to the President every day. Jamie couldn't quite get past that.
She realized he was speaking to her and forced herself to pay attention. "Sorry, what was that?"
"What do you think of this one?"
Jamie's jaw dropped.
"Donna?" Sam asked.
"I don't know, it's a little flashy." Donna wrinkled her nose and pointed to another display. "This one's nice."
"It's $15,000." Jamie blinked, wondering if she'd imagined the price.
Donna sighed. "Makes you want to cry, doesn't it?"
"I don't know anyone who'd spend that much money on me." All shyness forgotten, Jamie turned to Sam. "You don't have a younger brother, do you? Or a clone?"
Donna laughed. "A clone of Sam? I'm not so sure that's a good idea."
"Hey!" Sam protested.
Donna leaned towards Jamie. "You know, he and Josh almost set the White House on fire once. Can you just imagine if there'd been another Sam? They might just have succeeded."
"That was Josh's idea." Sam turned his attention back to the shop assistant. "Maybe you can help me. I'm looking for something elegant, but not flashy."
The assistant – Tiffany, according to her nameplate – smiled. "Of course. Perhaps you'd like to see our selection of white gold?" She directed the trio to another display cabinet.
"So I take it the whole meeting-her-parents thing went well?" Donna asked.
"I think so. I'm still alive, which is always a good thing."
"I'm sorry," Jamie said. "I have to ask. Are you guys always like this?"
Sam and Donna looked at each other. "Like what?" Sam asked.
"Normal. I mean, I have this picture in my head of what it's like to work, you know, in the White House and everything, and you guys are – Please don't take this the wrong way, but you guys are as crazy as Nate and Ainsley."
Donna laughed. "Oh, you have no idea."
Sam grabbed Donna's arm and pointed. "That's it. That's the one."
"It's beautiful," Jamie said. 'It' was a thin band of white gold set with three tiny diamonds.
"Ainsley's going to love it." Donna smiled. "You'd better not mess this up, Sam."
Sam pulled Ainsley's class ring from his pocket and handed it to Tiffany. "I'm going to need it this size."
Tiffany smiled. "Of course."
"I want to meet your family," Ainsley said, leaning against Sam's kitchen counter. "Mmm, that smells great. What is it? Pineapple?"
"My family?"
Ainsley picked up a fork and stole a piece of pineapple from the stir-fry Sam was currently making. "Mm-hmm. I love pineapple."
"Ains, my family's not like yours. My parents are divorced. I have a half-sister I just found out about—"
Ainsley nabbed another pineapple piece. "Sam, they're part of who you are. I want to know everything about you."
Sam caught her wrist as she tried her luck a third time. "That sounds dangerously stalker-like, Miss Hayes."
"Potato, potahto. It's only fair. You met my family." She smiled. "Unless you're embarrassed to let them meet me . . ."
"What? No. That's ridiculous." He sighed and pulled her closer. "Okay. You win."
"Good." Ainsley crossed to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of Fresca. "Oh, your mother's in Martha's Vineyard this weekend. She said she's free to go sailing on Saturday."
"You spoke to my mother?"
Ainsley shrugged innocently. "She called earlier when you were in the shower. It was her idea."
"Yes, but—"
"I've never been sailing."
"Today's Thursday."
Ainsley smiled. "The stir-fry's burning."
Sam turned the stove-plate down. "I'm going to get you back for this."
"I look forward to it." She winked and hopped onto the counter. "Now get over here and feed me."
"Remind me why I put up with you?"
"'Cause you love me."
Sam wiped his hands on a dishtowel and cleared his throat. "Yeah. About that . . . Would you wear something for me tonight?"
"The black dress, right?" Ainsley's accent was more noticeable when she teased him. "I know you've been dying to see me in it."
"Uh, actually, I want you to wear this." He pulled a small box from his pocket and held it out.
For once, Ainsley had nothing to say.
"I know it's only been a couple of months, but when you know, you know. Ainsley, I don't ever want to be with anyone else. I love you and I want to marry you."
Ainsley grinned. "Get over here and kiss me, Sam Seaborn."
TBC
