a quick fix
Title: A Quick Fix
Rating: PG
Pairing: Sam Seaborn/Ainsley Hayes
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Spoilers: Episode Tag for Night Five
Word Count: 898
Author's Notes: For magisterequitum at ww_secretsanta. Thanks to tidbit2008 for taking a quick look at it and helping me come up with a title.
“I fixed it.”
Ainsley looks up from her desk to find Sam Seaborn standing in her office doorway. His voice is triumphant, and he holds what she assumes to be an updated draft of the U.N. General Assembly speech in his hands.
“You fixed it?” she asks, skeptically tilting her head to the side.
“I fixed it.” A pause; then, with less certainty. “I think I fixed it.”
“Okay, well let’s see it then.”
She motions for the copy of the speech, which he steps forward somewhat hesitantly to relinquish it into her waiting hands. He hovers around the edge of her desk; although she’d never admit this, usually she finds his displays of nervous energy almost infuriatingly charming. Tonight, however, there’s a speech to read and policy to check, and Ainsley can’t concentrate when he’s just there like that.
“Sam?” She quirks an eyebrow as she gets his attention.
“Yes?”
“Sam, can I help you with something?”
“Uh, no.”
“Then I’m going to need you to go do something else while I finish reading this.”
“Oh. Okay.” He casts his eyes downward for a second, almost forlorn, before he turns and heads toward the door. Stopping just as he reenters the hallway, he turns around to ask, “Hey Ainsley? I didn’t offend you before, right? I know you said I didn’t, but if I did, I’m sorry.”
“Have I ever given you the impression that I would keep quiet about it if you offended me?”
“Well, no.” He speaks slowly, but she can tell it’s because he’s finally working this out in his head, and not because he doesn’t understand her or doesn’t believe her.
“Then there’s your answer,” she replies cheerfully. “I meant what I said; I’m not offended.”
Sam nods and leans back against the doorframe. “Okay, good.”
“Sam,” she tries to scold him, but her smirk gives her away. “Sam, I’ll be back upstairs as soon as I finish. Now go.”
“I’m going, I’m going,” he replies. Then he turns around and disappears down the dimly-lit hallway.
She waits until she is certain he’s rounded the corner before she picks up the draft again and begins to read.
xxx
About forty minutes later, it is Ainsley’s turn to stand in Sam’s office door, speech in hand, and announce her presence. She waits for a few moments, however, as she watches him enthralled in what appears to be a very intense game of Solitaire.
“You were right. You fixed it.”
Sam jumps out of his seat, startled, at the sound of her voice. “Oh, I was just...” He trails off as he recovers and quickly realizes what she said. “I did?” he asks, maneuvering around his desk to approach her.
“Yes. The speech looks good. No more political land mines.”
“Good. Because as much as I find the French Ambassador irritating, we probably don’t want to let the whole U.N. General Assembly know about it.”
“No, Sam. We certainly do not,” Ainsley says with a laugh.
Sam takes the final draft of the speech when she offers it and flips through the pages one last time. “I’m sorry I dragged you away from your thing tonight.”
She’s not that sorry; the crowds at the Federalist Society tend to be dull and monotonous. But since she refuses to tell him that, she says instead, “I’m sorry I interrupted what clearly was very important business you were handling.” Sam frowns, and she explains, “You might want to move the red five.”
“Oh. That.”
“Yes, that.” The corner of her lip quirks slightly in response.
Sam retreats back to his computer and closes out the game. “Hey Ainsley, did you ever get that cupcake?”
“No. The all night pastry chef took the night off again. We’re really going to have to look into that.”
“I’m sure we will.” He smiles. “But in the meantime, why don’t we head out for the night? I know a bakery not far from here that stays open until midnight on Fridays.”
“A real bakery?”
“Scout’s honor.”
Ainsley eyes him suspiciously. “Did you have Ginger or Bonnie look this place up?”
He laughs. “Well, I certainly wasn’t going to ask Celia.”
“Probably a good idea,” she agrees, grinning. “So at this bakery, are you buying?”
“You aren’t concerned that would be demeaning?”
She shakes her head in amusement. “No. Not really.”
“Okay. In that case, yes I’m buying.”
“Then you’ve got yourself a deal. I’ll just go down to my office and get my things.”
Sam smirks. “What are the odds I could convince you to put that dress on again?”
“Don’t push your luck,” she retorts, not entirely sure she sounds threatening enough.
He apparently doesn’t seem to think so; as he locks his office door and they begin to make their way out of the Communications bullpen, he pipes up, teasingly, “We still haven’t discussed your little speech from earlier. You should tell me more about this Lipstick Feminism.”
“Sam?” Ainsley looks up at him incredulously, trying to bite back a grin.
“Yes ma’am?” He tries to appear innocent. It almost works.
She pauses before she tells him, simply, “Shut up.”
But by the time they reach the staircase, they are both laughing.
End
Rating: PG
Pairing: Sam Seaborn/Ainsley Hayes
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Spoilers: Episode Tag for Night Five
Word Count: 898
Author's Notes: For magisterequitum at ww_secretsanta. Thanks to tidbit2008 for taking a quick look at it and helping me come up with a title.
“I fixed it.”
Ainsley looks up from her desk to find Sam Seaborn standing in her office doorway. His voice is triumphant, and he holds what she assumes to be an updated draft of the U.N. General Assembly speech in his hands.
“You fixed it?” she asks, skeptically tilting her head to the side.
“I fixed it.” A pause; then, with less certainty. “I think I fixed it.”
“Okay, well let’s see it then.”
She motions for the copy of the speech, which he steps forward somewhat hesitantly to relinquish it into her waiting hands. He hovers around the edge of her desk; although she’d never admit this, usually she finds his displays of nervous energy almost infuriatingly charming. Tonight, however, there’s a speech to read and policy to check, and Ainsley can’t concentrate when he’s just there like that.
“Sam?” She quirks an eyebrow as she gets his attention.
“Yes?”
“Sam, can I help you with something?”
“Uh, no.”
“Then I’m going to need you to go do something else while I finish reading this.”
“Oh. Okay.” He casts his eyes downward for a second, almost forlorn, before he turns and heads toward the door. Stopping just as he reenters the hallway, he turns around to ask, “Hey Ainsley? I didn’t offend you before, right? I know you said I didn’t, but if I did, I’m sorry.”
“Have I ever given you the impression that I would keep quiet about it if you offended me?”
“Well, no.” He speaks slowly, but she can tell it’s because he’s finally working this out in his head, and not because he doesn’t understand her or doesn’t believe her.
“Then there’s your answer,” she replies cheerfully. “I meant what I said; I’m not offended.”
Sam nods and leans back against the doorframe. “Okay, good.”
“Sam,” she tries to scold him, but her smirk gives her away. “Sam, I’ll be back upstairs as soon as I finish. Now go.”
“I’m going, I’m going,” he replies. Then he turns around and disappears down the dimly-lit hallway.
She waits until she is certain he’s rounded the corner before she picks up the draft again and begins to read.
xxx
About forty minutes later, it is Ainsley’s turn to stand in Sam’s office door, speech in hand, and announce her presence. She waits for a few moments, however, as she watches him enthralled in what appears to be a very intense game of Solitaire.
“You were right. You fixed it.”
Sam jumps out of his seat, startled, at the sound of her voice. “Oh, I was just...” He trails off as he recovers and quickly realizes what she said. “I did?” he asks, maneuvering around his desk to approach her.
“Yes. The speech looks good. No more political land mines.”
“Good. Because as much as I find the French Ambassador irritating, we probably don’t want to let the whole U.N. General Assembly know about it.”
“No, Sam. We certainly do not,” Ainsley says with a laugh.
Sam takes the final draft of the speech when she offers it and flips through the pages one last time. “I’m sorry I dragged you away from your thing tonight.”
She’s not that sorry; the crowds at the Federalist Society tend to be dull and monotonous. But since she refuses to tell him that, she says instead, “I’m sorry I interrupted what clearly was very important business you were handling.” Sam frowns, and she explains, “You might want to move the red five.”
“Oh. That.”
“Yes, that.” The corner of her lip quirks slightly in response.
Sam retreats back to his computer and closes out the game. “Hey Ainsley, did you ever get that cupcake?”
“No. The all night pastry chef took the night off again. We’re really going to have to look into that.”
“I’m sure we will.” He smiles. “But in the meantime, why don’t we head out for the night? I know a bakery not far from here that stays open until midnight on Fridays.”
“A real bakery?”
“Scout’s honor.”
Ainsley eyes him suspiciously. “Did you have Ginger or Bonnie look this place up?”
He laughs. “Well, I certainly wasn’t going to ask Celia.”
“Probably a good idea,” she agrees, grinning. “So at this bakery, are you buying?”
“You aren’t concerned that would be demeaning?”
She shakes her head in amusement. “No. Not really.”
“Okay. In that case, yes I’m buying.”
“Then you’ve got yourself a deal. I’ll just go down to my office and get my things.”
Sam smirks. “What are the odds I could convince you to put that dress on again?”
“Don’t push your luck,” she retorts, not entirely sure she sounds threatening enough.
He apparently doesn’t seem to think so; as he locks his office door and they begin to make their way out of the Communications bullpen, he pipes up, teasingly, “We still haven’t discussed your little speech from earlier. You should tell me more about this Lipstick Feminism.”
“Sam?” Ainsley looks up at him incredulously, trying to bite back a grin.
“Yes ma’am?” He tries to appear innocent. It almost works.
She pauses before she tells him, simply, “Shut up.”
But by the time they reach the staircase, they are both laughing.
End