Title: Bipartisanship
Author: ScarlettMithruiel
Rating: PG-13
Classification: R
Disclaimer: I don't own it. If I did, King Corn would have went differently, Sam Seaborn would never have left, and Sam would be campaigning for president (with Ainsley by his side). So yeah. If you watch these eps, you can tell…so not mine.
Author's Note: Yeah. Random double-posting again. Quite a few chapters left in it, I think. Review. Enjoy.
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Sam Seaborn felt a tapping on his shoulder. His mind shook the thought off. It'll go away. Go back to bed. Before he could exercise what his mind and body wanted him to, he heard a voice. "Sam," it was teasing, with a lilt. He could practically hear the smile, if that was possible. A smell began to prick its way up his nostrils. It smelled like hazelnut. The warmth of the steam was making him uncomfortable. His eyelids began to slowly open, despite his efforts to keep them closed. His eyes fell on a cherub. It looked so radiant, absolutely glowing. His eyes focused and he saw that it was Ainsley in a plain robe; wet hair combed back, crouched, holding a mug of coffee under his nose. Her blue eyes flicked up to look at him and he smiled, reaching for the mug. She pulled it away. "Coffee," he rasped out, his voice lost somewhere in the throes of sleep. She shook her head.
"Brush your teeth first. Morning breath," she replied.
He got up, albeit reluctantly, and headed for the bathroom. She heard the word "Republicans" within his mutterings. She smiled and headed toward the kitchen. A television, strategically placed in the kitchen, was turned on to C-Span. She checked the time. She didn't have to go in until nine. She didn't know about him. She had gotten home about one last night. He wasn't home. She had gotten to bed and she still heard nothing about him. That morning, she had found him, asleep on the sofa. She had gazed at the dark circles under his eyes with concern. How late did he stay out til last night? He returned and snatched up the coffee. She leaned in for a kiss. He pressed insistently against her lips and she smiled, before pulling away.
"Now there's a morning greeting no girl would mind facing," she quipped. He grinned. "Sam, you got the speech ready?" He nodded. "How long did it take you?" He cast her a look and she knew. She watched him down the coffee, black, like water. He got up and poured himself another cup.
"Anything going on?"
"Not really. When are the primaries? Day after tomorrow?" He nodded. "You should get ready for work. You know, you are running for the Presidency."
He grinned. "Really? I wasn't aware."
She scooted her chair over, closer to his, and leaned against his shoulder. "You still have to meet my parents."
"I have an idea," he said. She cast him a glance that read Yeah? He continued. "I could go meet your parents when I'm in North Carolina for a stop. And you could meet mine…y'know…at the wedding or something." She looked exasperated. "Because Thanksgiving and Christmas are after the election."
"And when do you propose we get married?"
"Well, if you're asking for my professional opinion, we could get married in November, after the election."
"Who would plan it?"
"You could…I don't know…enlist Donna's help. Or Margaret's."
"And we'd get married in November?" He nodded and searched her eyes for her response. They did not fail him. He gazed into the glimmering orbs and saw that she supported him. That she loved him. And that was all he needed to know. He placed a kiss to the top of her head. She smiled.
"You could meet my parents while you were on the campaign trail, while I plan the wedding. Then, we get married in November." She explained the plan out loud, testing the waters in the air. He nodded. She said nothing for a while and just breathed, their scents intermingling in the air. A thought popped into her head out of nowhere. Well, not out of nowhere. This is what our house will smell like.
"Does that sound all right?" His tentative voice filled the void of their silence. She smiled and released a contented sigh.
"Yes. We could get a nice fall wedding." He let out a laugh. She jabbed him lightly with her index finger. "If you get elected, we could get married in the Rose Garden."
"You know what, Ainsley?"
"Hm?"
"We might actually have to go to work today."
She checked the time and realized that they would indeed have to get going. She gave him another lingering kiss and went to change.
-
Sam Seaborn went into work with an improved attitude than when he left. He treaded on the carpet towards his office, embracing the aloofness of the closed door. He stopped. Or perhaps he was reading too much into a closed door. He thought with a somewhat childlike glee that if he was President and Toby was on his staff, he could talk about making an action-adventure series with Pilgrims every Thanksgiving, rather than discuss the Latin word for "yam." Although he still remembered it was diascorea.
He sat in his chair and leaned back, pulling files from his briefcase. Now that he was awake, he'd reread the speech. It wasn't that they weren't good writers or anything, but nobody truly functions well surviving on coffee and working hours upon hours straight. No matter how much his ego would try to persuade him, it just couldn't be done.
The day after tomorrow, he would deliver the speech and the primaries would happen. He'd figure out if he'd be a main player on the Democratic side of the ballot. He hoped he was. And then, after all of that, he would campaign. His goal was to become the next President of the United States of America. And somewhere, a voice rang out within him. And McAllister sure as hell isn't going to take this from me.
