Lunch had gone very well.
Very, very well.
It had gone so well in fact that Ainsley insisted they go and get ice cream. Sam tried to protest, citing the fact that it was October, not July, and this was Washington, not Orlando, but it was no use; he was going to cave regardless of what argument she countered with, be it good or bad – but it was Ainsley Hayes, so it was gonna be good.
Halfway through her chocolate ice cream cone with sprinkles – or jimmies, as they called them in Boston, Ainsley explained – Sam was asked to hold her ice cream and not eat any of it while she answered her cell phone. Perhaps if he hadn't been so cold from his peppermint cone he would have flirtatiously stolen a bite, but the thought process went that if he ate more, he would get frostbite, and if he got frostbite, then he'd never be able to find out what was going to happen between the two of them in the future. Risk did not equal reward.
"Hey, Marissa!" Ainsley squealed into the phone.
During lunch, Ainsley had said that it was Marissa with whom she would be staying during her visit. Sam sighed, figuring that Ainsley's hostess was probably curious as to her guest's whereabouts – which meant that his exciting encounter would end.
"You're in New York?"
Sam's head, which had been facing downward, contemplating saying goodbye to Ainsley for however long it would be this time, perked up. If Marissa was in New York right now, then…
"Oh, no, I understand. I can't believe they sprung that on the last minute on you. I'd be kicking and screaming right now," Ainsley laughed. "Oh right, I forgot, I'm talking to the queen of kicking and screaming."
Last minute… kicking and screaming… seriously, was there the possibility that Ainsley needed somewhere to stay? Sam's hotel room could certainly fit – no, she wouldn't want to do that. But, if she were desperate, maybe she could stay at the same hotel as he…
"No, Marissa, I don't want to impose – are you sure?"
Damn, arraignments.
"I can call your neighbor and he'll give me the key? Okay. Thank you so much, Marissa. I'll have to make sure I come down again when you're not so swamped with work. I'll call you and let you know how everything goes, okay? Talk to you later."
The instant Ainsley closed her phone Sam stuck her ice cream out toward her and begun the questioning. "Marissa's stuck in New York?"
"Yeah. Her boss is making her stay to work on a project."
"Does she have a place to stay there?"
"Yeah, her boyfriend actually lives in New York. But since she's supposed to in the city three days a week, they have plenty of time together."
"So that shouldn't be so bad, she has an extra night with him this week," Sam said, passing the ice cream.
"No, Tom's in Chicago right now, and Marissa's not crazy about staying there alone, but she'll be okay."
"Where does that leave you?"
Ainsley licked her ice cream. "I'm getting the key from her neighbor and staying there alone."
"Well, that doesn't work out so badly then, does it?"
"No, but she also doesn't have any groceries in the house. It means I'll have to go shopping."
"Oh." Sam wasn't sure. Was this – was this another – was she trying to – why did women have to be all about the subtle, hidden messages? Taking a dive, he asked, "Are you going to need any help? I mean, I've got a car and a trunk and everything. We could even trek out to a Wal-Mart to get you the cheapest prices and big bulk packages of snack-size chips."
------
"Sam, he didn't want to kill you," Ainsley laughed, pushing open the door to Marissa's apartment, arms laden with groceries.
"Did you see the look on his face? He was going to go for the giant hunting rifle I'm sure he had in his living room."
"Or maybe the pistol in his bedroom," Ainsley remarked sarcastically.
"Hey, I wouldn't put it past him. You and your people love the second amendment, so I don't see why Calamity Bob down in 4C—"
"Sam, you're in a building whose residents make up a good faction of the Republican party, and these walls are paper thin."
"I'm just saying, had you not popped your head in at that minute, asking for Marissa's key, I'd be dead right now. Lying dead on the 'Jesus Saves' doormat."
"Please, continue with the degrading Republican comments, by all means."
Sam frowned. "Sorry."
"It's okay," Ainsley said, a sinister grin appearing on her face, "but I know how you're going to make it up to me."
"You mean driving you around and helping you get groceries and carrying things into the apartment and nearly getting killed by people who hate Democrats wasn't enough?"
"No. And it's surprising that Cal even knew who you were. Marissa said he usually isn't too political with knowing names and faces."
"Uh-huh," Sam replied, rolling his eyes.
"A lot of the other people in this building are, however."
"Yeah, because this is the D.C. Republican Headquarters."
"What about the Congress that we control?"
"The residential headquarters."
"Well, anyway," Ainsley sighed dramatically, "you're going to make up the snooty comments to me, and you're going to do so by getting dinner."
"Dinner?"
"Yes. You can cook it, you can order out, it really doesn't matter. But, you're buying me dinner."
------
Forty-five minutes later, groceries put away, Ainsley unpacked, and the table set, the pizza arrived and the two sat down for yet another meal.
"I was hoping that you were going to cook for me," said Ainsley.
"I generally try to avoid setting buildings aflame."
"That bad, really?"
"Well, I can make pancakes."
She smiled. "It's a start."
"It certainly is."
The two paused. They had honestly hit on almost every topic they could possibly speak of – except one. The elephant that had traveled around with them everywhere today was still alive.
Then Ainsley went and killed it. Speaking softly, she asked, "How has everyone from the administration taken to losing Leo?"
Sam swallowed his pizza and stared down at the plate, taking time to look pensive about the next few words out of his mouth. "It's surreal, I think. For me at least. I don't exactly think it has hit yet. I hadn't seen Leo for so long – and to think that the world is still revolving without his presence is just – strange."
"He accomplished so many things though. More things than many people can ever say they did."
Sam continued to look at his plate, a film projector showing what would amount to old home movies of working on legislation with Leo and Josh and Toby. "He did do a lot. I think it's probably the hardest on Josh, he being basically Leo's surrogate child." Sam looked up at Ainsley, then back down. "The President loved Josh like a son, but you always knew there was an even tighter father-son bond between Josh and Leo. Josh'd move mountains to help Leo.
"During the MS stuff, when Leo had to testify, right before we struck the deal with the censure, Josh was inside about a problem with Congressman Gibson knowing something that would hurt Leo, and Josh… he tried everything to get Gibson out of the room. I was calling people, pulling strings, but it didn't get done. And just – Leo looked out for Josh and Josh tried to do everything in his power to protect Leo. It's weird to think about him being gone."
"Is Josh doing OK?"
"Yeah," Sam said, a large grin spreading over his face. "He's got Donna."
"And everyone else's got someone?"
"Yeah."
"What about you?"
Sam sharply inhaled. What? What about him? Was she doing it again? Giving him a sign? Had everything today amassed to a sign? It certainly seemed as if she were signaling him. But, wasn't it better safe than sorry? He decided upon saying, "Me? I'm fine."
"But who do you have?"
"Everyone's got each other, really, I suppose."
"But Toby's got Andrea and the President's got Mrs. Bartlet and C.J.'s got Danny—"
"C.J.'s got who?" Sam interjected, his eyebrows raised.
"Danny. But you didn't hear it from me. I'm just making a point."
Sam chuckled and let her continue. "And Charlie's got Zoey, if I'm not mistaken, and Josh's got Donna, so where does that leave you? Who do you have to turn to?"
"Ainsley, I—"
"Sam, back when I first started working at the White House, Leo was the only one who treated me with respect. He was decent. Truly decent. I said that to him. He had humor, he was kind, and he treated me like a human being when you and C.J. were screaming about my being hired. I knew Leo, Sam, and I respected him immensely. I miss him too. I came down here to celebrate his life. But, Sam, who do I have to turn to?"
He swallowed. "I – don't know."
"And it's not that I just want someone to turn to right now. I shouldn't have to find someone to make me feel safe just when times are difficult. I should have someone like that all the time."
Oh, my God. What was he supposed to do? "You should, Ainsley," he said softly, resolute.
"Sam, there's always been something between us," she said, leaning forward in her chair.
He stared at her. Her beautiful eyes, her fair skin, her blonde hair – features that reminded him of Lisa, the last person who had, at one point, made him feel the same way she did, only Ainsley held more beauty and more grace than Sam's former fiancée could have ever had. Sam had never felt so unsure. God. What could he reply with? "I know, there has been, but I've just never known what to do, and then you left and I left and—"
"Sam," she said, stopping his rambling. "There's been something between us for years, and today I've been giving you all the hints in the world toward trying to progress it, and so I have to ask you something."
"Yeah?" he replied, his heart racing. She needed someone to turn to – forever. He needed someone to turn to – forever. What she was about to say could have an impact of monumental proportion.
"Are you ever going to kiss me?"
Gentlemen, start your engines. Here's the first pitch from the right hander. The two centers line up for the tip off. And a strong kick out to the ten yard line, where the rookie out of LSU is waiting to receive.
Sam locked his eyes with Ainsley's and slowly got up out of his chair, never breaking contact. He got to the other side of the table, next to Ainsley's chair, leaned over, and sworn he could have felt a jolt of electricity the first time their lips met.
Or maybe it was just static from his socks and the rug.
Whatever it was, Sam knew that there was something special. He pulled away and opened his eyes. Ainsley's, he saw, were still closed. "I've wanted to do that for a long time now," he whispered. "I can just never tell the signs."
"Well, maybe you'll learn," she replied, taking her hand to his face, bringing in for another kiss. She stood up out of the chair, putting her other hand in his hair and letting his arms wrap around her. He moved to kiss down her neck, and Ainsley took the opportunity to make another request. "Sam," she said.
"Yeah," he replied breathlessly.
"Since you lack observational skills, you're going to need to do something else for me."
He stepped back and looked at her. "What?" he said flatly.
"Make pancakes in the morning."
And with that, Sam agreed – only this time, he decided not to use words.