theirlawyer | (no subject)

(no subject)

The Nexus has a lot of benefits, ranging from plush comfortable mattresses to long buffets filled with all kinds of food that Ainsley could normally only dream of, but what she finds is the very best door so far is the one she opens when she goes to find Sam and instead opens a door to a tropical beach paradise. The calming rush of ocean waves to the shore of a private beach and a cabana makes Ainsley all too aware that what she's missing is a beach vacation.

She props the door open with her shoe before heading off to find the appropriate clothes and the right partner for that kind of thing. Dressed in an oversized t-shirt that belongs to some guy she'd accidentally stolen it from, Ainsley hitches her well-stocked bag of preparations (and food) higher over her shoulder while she tries the door right next to the beach one, as if Sam might have moved without telling her.

"Sam?" she calls, knocking steadily. "I'm giving you another thirty seconds. Trust me, you'll like it," she promises sweetly, because she really can't imagine anyone who wouldn't like the hot sun and sand of a beautiful beach where no expectations or responsibilities lay on their heads.

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"Maybe as long as we're not staying for months at a time," Sam says. "Because standard logic would say we do age and we need to take the appropriate steps to ensure we're not drastically altering our appearances."

He laughs softly. "Or we could blame it on the DC grind. That'll age you quick."

"Or we find some kind of fountain of youth through one of the doors. I mean, this place does look pretty tropical. I wouldn't put it past it to open up to a secret that could have us eternally youthful," she jokes, sinking into the water with a blissful sigh. "Not that I want to be young forever. There's something dignified and respectful about ageing and becoming a mentor to younger generations."

"Mm, yeah, there's that too," Sam says. "Though I think you're going to age more gracefully than I will. You have that kind of timeless, Grace Kelly thing going. I don't even hope to achieve that."

Sam draws closer to her in the water, reaching to take her into his arms.

"Are you serious?" she asks with a bubbling laugh, both for the flattery and his modesty about how he'll age. She lifts her fingers from the water to stroke them along Sam's hairline with a fond smile, pressed up against him comfortably. "You're going to be that silver fox that the girls on the Hill will sigh over. Honestly, Sam, if ever you ran for office, you'd probably earn the popular vote based on how much everyone wants to either be you or be with you."

"I thought about running for Congress a few times," Sam says quietly. It's not something he has really said to anyone before, considering his position in the Bartlet Administration but eventually he won't be in office anymore and Sam is going to have to get a new job. He doesn't think he could go back to private practice.

"Why didn't you?" Ainsley asks, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck as she refuses to go too far, enjoying being in Sam's arms far too much to do anything else. "I'd have voted for you, I think," she informs him, with all the face-pulling a comment like that requires.

"Oh? Me? Into gun control and federal government? Who would ever have thought? I guess it's because of my gorgeous smile and trustworthy demeanor, right?" Sam can't help but tease about it because their political views are rapidly different even if they both share common ground in working for the White House and loving their country. Bipartisanism at its best, right? He hopes so.

"It's because you're more than willing to work with the other side despite the values you hold that I find completely and utterly ridiculous," Ainsley says, even if she's more than charmed by him and the idea of Sam in office. She hooks one of her legs around his waist, getting comfortable in the water with him. "Would you ever think about it more seriously?" she wonders. "Running?"

"More than I care to admit," Sam says. "My home district has been staunchly Republican for as long as I can remember. I would sort of like the chance to give the incumbent a reason to try and make some changes even if I don't win."

"Not that I'm about to say that we should get so serious that you could use me socially in your campaign, but even if we were only friends, wouldn't I be an asset for you?" Ainsley asks, drawing patterns on his bare shoulder as she thinks about his campaign and strategies and tries to ignore the excited frisson that passes through her at the mere thought.

"You're always an asset to me," Sam assures her. "If you want to put some serious thought into it, I'm definitely willing to look at a proposal or two. It's early on, so if we did end up running it's not like we've lost a lot of time."

There's the matter of fundraising, of course, but Sam has a lot of connections in the area and people who would truly like to see a strong opposition candidate make a run for the House if possible.

She honestly thinks that this might be something that she invests some of her infrequent spare time into. For one, it's interesting, and for another, it's something that Sam would enjoy. "Would you be able to pry yourself away from the White House?" she wonders, because it's been his life for so long. "Given the lack of guarantee that you'd win?"

"What would your back up plan be?"

"Environmental law, maybe? I don't want to do corporate again," Sam says. That much is a given and, honestly, there's quite a bit of latitude with a JD that he might not have in some other profession. "Or possibly working for some kind of lobbying group. Something to show I've got some legislative experience along with my White House credentials. That way, if I plan to run again, I'll have some experience under my belt that isn't an executive appointment."

"For a second, I thought maybe you'd go straight to the tree-hugging life," Ainsley admits, when he confesses that he might go to environmental law. She can't see herself doing that, but mostly because she thinks she'd go to criminal law to keep herself on her toes. "You've thought about this, haven't you?"

"Honestly? Yes. I know it's not a permanent posting, my position in the White House. Eventually Bartlet isn't going to be president any longer and I'm going to be out of a job. I want to line up a plan for the future. I'd...I'd like to be in Congress myself. I feel like it would be the next natural step for me."

Sam wants to carve out his own legacy, do something to make his parents proud. He knows that it's hardly like he's a disappointment considering his position in the White House but he wants to be something more.

Ainsley feels an overwhelming sensation of pride. She knows they're barely starting to date, she knows that talking like she'll be around is presumptuous, but she's honestly very proud of Sam right at this moment. She tightens her arms around his neck and leans up into his space for a kiss that hopefully shows exactly that.

"I think you'll be great. Regardless of whether I'm still with you or if I'm the pundit writing bitter articles about your success," she teases coyly.

"I would like for you to still be with me," Sam says softly, pulling her that much closer.

"We fit, Ainsley. We fit in a way I don't think I've fit with anyone else in a long time and I want, very much, to keep exploring what's going on between us. I hope you're interested in it too. Does that scare you? To be thinking about a potential long term thing?"

"It scares me a little because I don't even know what I'll be doing when the President's term ends," she admits, given that she's started to think of her life in four-term batches. After all, if a Republican wins, would they really want Ainsley to stay? Is she tainted by the Bartlet administration now? "I mean, I hope we work. I don't like taking chances if there's no good base, but I also know your history with relationships," she points out.

"A call girl and Leo's daughter, Sam?"

Sam frowns a little. "I didn't know she was a call girl and I didn't think that Leo's daughter was repugnant to you. I was also engaged, for a while, before the both of them. It seems like you want to write it off before we get a chance to get started. I like to look at these things with a little more of a glass half-full mentality."

Sam likes to think he's a good guy and that they have a good thing and it wounds him a bit to think that Ainsley is critical of how this is going because he can't pinpoint the cause.

"Sam, I'm just saying that before me, you'd made some interesting decisions," is her way of calmly replying, easing away from him to settle down into the water on her own two feet. "I wrote op-eds about it," she says, "and I'm sorry for that. I am," she concedes. "I just don't want to be some scandal in the paper with you that you move away from when you're done with me," she says.

"I want it to be real. I want it to last."

"I want it to be real too. I think it is real," Sam admits. "You were your own woman with your own identity long before I met you. You'll be that even if we did break up. I'm insanely attracted to that. It's more real to me than anything has been for a long time."

Ainsley stares at him with a smile that's warming up, her doubts slowly inching away moment by moment. She trusts Sam, she does, and if she's going to go into this, then she needs to do it with him. "Okay," is all she says, and that's it, she's all in. She knows it. "Then you and I are going to do this properly," she promises. "But maybe let's get out of the water? I think I'm pruning."

"Don't want all that creamy skin to suffer," Sam agrees, offering his hand to her so they can walk back into out of the water and to the warm sand again.

"No, I'd hate to have to explain where I went to get so tanned and the last thing I need are a dozen Josh Lyman jokes about spray-tanning," Ainsley admits, reaching for her towel when they get to dry ground. "I mean, mostly because he's just really not a funny man. But he thinks he is. Is that your fault, Sam?"

"Oh, no. Josh Lyman thought he was funny long before I knew him," Sam says, laughing a little at the image. "He was born thinking he was God's gift to comedy and we just all go along with it so he doesn't make that sad little face when his jokes go flat. You know the one I'm talking about, right? Donna makes him do it all the time."

Sam reaches for his own towel, drying off, and draws up close to Ainsley again. "This is...I want this forever. Just this. No pressure, no work creeping in. Just us spending time together."