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[theirlawyer]

Ainsley pinches at the bridge of her nose, trying to fight off the will to sleep. It's been so busy in the White House ever since the President had started to call meetings with a good deal of the legal staff, which meant they weren't available for the day-to-day and Ainsley's workload had dramatically increased. It meant that it was pushing ten at night and she's genuinely unsure if she should leave.

What she wants now, more than anything, is just a night off. The trouble is, if she's here, then she's tied to her phone and that means it's not really relaxing. What she needs is that hotel. Whatever strange logic governed it meant that no time had passed since she and Sam had accidentally wandered into it and right now, she loves the idea of a weekend away when all she does is sleep and relax and rest.

There are two problems in this.

The first being that she can't find a door that opens there and the second being that she doesn't want to go alone. She begins the long walk up from the Steampipe Trunk Distribution Venue towards Sam's office, not surprised to still find him at work. She raps her knuckles lightly on the glass separating his office from the bullpen and pokes her head in the door.

"Do you ever wonder what our lives would be like if we had normal 9 to 5 jobs?" she wonders, in place of an actual greeting. "I don't know what I'd do with myself, honestly."

Comments

[imnotrobin]

Sam doesn't want to admit that very soon, Ainsley is going to have a very big something dropped on her plate and it's going to be unavoidable. He wants her to have the illusion of an escape before dropping that on her.

"Well, let's get out of here before they realize we left. We don't want a secret service tail in here when the president eventually discovers this door and decides to use it."

[theirlawyer]

"Or for them to think that the deputy communications director is doing something untoward with the Republican lawyer," Ainsley smoothly drawls, mostly to tease Sam and amuse herself in the process. She lingers at the door, gesturing as if to tell Sam that she'll be following him. "Beauty and age before intelligence," she insists.

[imnotrobin]

Sam arches a brow and laughs but he steps through the door first. He thinks if they're discussing beauty, Ainsley should certainly be first over him in that particular conversation.

"It looks just the same as before."

[theirlawyer]

Ainsley follows him with a few steps, happy that it doesn't seem to take much more than sheer force of will and want to find themselves back in this place. "It feels better, this time," she says, because they know where they are and they know it'll be relaxing. "Doesn't it? Knowing time won't pass, that we can relax, and I am starving," she finishes, as if those thoughts all belong together.

[imnotrobin]

In the past few months he's gotten to know Ainsley, Sam has learned that she makes leaps from A to C without so much as hopping on B between. Clearly the jump from relief to hunger is a logical one in her head and he chuckles a little.

"I think we can find an appropriate assortment of pastries to satisfy you while we spend the next several hours not thinking about work. The kitchen has to know your order by now, right?"

[theirlawyer]

"You make it sound like I'm here all the time," Ainsley protests, though he isn't too far off the mark. After she'd discovered the incredible food the restaurant could do here, she'd been sneaking in little trips whenever she could (and often stood pulling her bathroom door open multiple times just to get here). "What about you? Another healthy dinner?"

[imnotrobin]

"If you consider looking at a sandwich and drinking day-old coffee a healthy dinner, yes. That was the plan. I guess I should try to hit at least three of the four major food groups," Sam says. "So if you'd like to join me, I'd love to have dinner with you. My treat?"

It's almost like asking her out but it's still shrouded in friendship. Sam hasn't quite decided how to best approach moving things to something more.

[theirlawyer]

Ainsley nods, eager for dinner and a few hours away from work. Ideally, she wants to take those hours and stretch and stretch until they're beyond more than a few, but she's sure she can figure out some ways to stall before it comes to that. "No day old coffee," is her only rule. "Or day old anything. Not if we're here," she says, already heading for the restaurant without needing any more encouragement.

[imnotrobin]

"Only the finest for White House counsel," Sam says. Truly, he's wanted to take Ainsley to dinner for a while but he doesn't dare do it in DC without someone finding out. He isn't ashamed to go out with her; on the contrary, he doesn't want her career to be affected because she's seen out with him.

"What are you in the mood for?"

[theirlawyer]

"Everything," is her instant response, given that there's a point she reaches in which her hunger has a tendency to surpass everything else and she's left with one simple fact -- she could eat a horse. "Something heavy? Steak, maybe," she says, eyes lighting up to think about it. "I could really, definitely go for steak."

[imnotrobin]

"Let's go full out. Steak, wine, a nice dessert? I'm sure someone in the hotel kitchen can whip that up for us."

If not, Sam can make it happen. If anyone deserves it, it's Ainsley, whom he feels is overworked and under-appreciated.

[theirlawyer]

It sounds suspiciously perfect and Ainsley very much wants to have that kind of dinner, even though that kind of dinner also sounds like she's not wearing nice enough clothes to be eating. "Sam, the way to my heart is definitely through all those things. I could never deny any of them," she assures him, giving him an encouraging smile so he knows that he's playing right into the things she enjoys.

And she wonders if this is the kind of nice, romantic dinner that is shared between platonic friends or whether she ought to be reading into it.

[imnotrobin]

"See? I do learn," Sam says, holding doors open for her all the way to the hotel restaurant. When they arrive, he pulls out a chair for her before settling in his own.

"We'll just order everything that looks good and mix and match. Sound like a plan?"

[theirlawyer]

Ainsley follows, already beginning to feel the tension erasing itself with every additional step. "I don't think I've ever seen you eat more than picking at the occasional light platter," she admits, already thrilled that today might change her luck. "What's it like when Sam Seaborn indulges?" she wonders, her eyes widening at the thought.

[imnotrobin]

"It usually ends with antacids and a birthday card to write but hopefully we'll have a better ending tonight," Sam teases. "I'm fond of shellfish. I suspect it has to do with growing up on the coast. Somehow, a big plate of oysters just makes me think of home. Charming, right?"

[theirlawyer]

"Well, don't worry. If you eat too much, I'll rub your stomach until it feels better," Ainsley promises with a sly grin, thinking of oysters and steak and pie and bread and whatever else he's willing to get for her. "Now, Sam, you have to stop talking about food if you aren't going to give it to me."

[imnotrobin]

"I'm working on it," he promises. Sam tries not to think about just how appealing it would be for Ainsley to rub any part of him. It's probably a bad idea to get involved and yet...

"Ainsley? May I ask you a personal question?"

[theirlawyer]

"Of course," Ainsley replies warmly, feeling in a better mood for her proximity to food. She's probably willing to answer a dozen personal questions, but it's best not to let Sam know that. Best to leave him wanting more, so to speak.

[imnotrobin]

"If I were to say this wasn't a work related dinner or a dinner between coworkers or a dinner between friends, would you still want to go?"

It's simply testing the waters a little. There's no safer place to do that than here in the Nexus where nobody else from DC is around.

[theirlawyer]

Ainsley had to take a minute to parse through Sam's words. It's almost like she takes each of his scenarios and dissects it before moving on to the next. If it's not a work dinner, if it's not coworkers, and it's not friends, then that leaves one very hopeful possibility that Ainsley takes a moment to wonder whether he's actually offering what she thinks he is. "Sam," she gets out, searching his face for anything betraying that this might be a joke.

"You'd better not be putting me on just for a prank," she warns, feeling her heart constrict with nerves, slightly.

[imnotrobin]

"I would never prank anyone about something like this but much less you, Ainsley," Sam says, utterly sincere. "I would never hurt you like that. I just wanted to test the waters and see if you were interested before...putting myself out there."

[theirlawyer]

"I am," Ainsley says, maybe trampling a little on his last few words, but there's a rush of desperation to make sure Sam understands that she's not disinterested and that she genuinely wants to have dinner with him (not as coworkers, not as friends, but something more). "I mean," she clears her throat, trying to calm her enthusiasm. "I would very much be interested in sitting down to a meal with you, in such a fashion."

[imnotrobin]

"Good, now that we've gotten the hard part over with, let's have dinner? I'm sure you're starved by now." Sam is more nervous now that it seems that Ainsley is actually interested and for someone who makes a living writing speeches and crafting policy, he's awfully tongue-tied in his personal life.

He leads her over to a table and pulls out her chair. It's the little things that make a dinner into a date and he wants it clear that this is a date.

[theirlawyer]

Ainsley has a dozen questions that she wants to ask, but doesn't know if this is the appropriate time to register them. After all, it's not like she wants to ruin this first dinner amongst more-than-friends with too many questions, but she still can't help her curiosity. "Sorry, before we order..." It turns out she can't wait.

"What sort of arrangement are you looking for? Is this just one dinner? Or would you like something more?"

[imnotrobin]

"Well, I would like to get through dinner without flubbing it. Other than that, it's up to you, isn't it? To decide whether or not you want to keep going out with me?"

Sam really hopes that she does. It'll take a lot of the pressure off.