west wing fic: five times she thought something and hid something
SUMMARY: Life is a collection of moments. In the long run, these five moments are just fragments of the whole. But they still matter and, without them, she wouldn't be who she is.
CHARACTERS: Ainsley POV, mention of Ainsley/Sam
RATING: PG
DISCLAIMER: I don't own The West Wing or any of its characters.
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1. "Only since I was two," she quips to Leo McGarry.
But the key point is it's a lie. No truth whatsoever. She didn't dream of politics as a little girl. She dreamed of Prince Charming and fairytale weddings. She wanted to be, in order of appearance, a teacher, a puppeteer, a nurse, a hairdresser, a chef, a journalist, a fly attendant, an actor, a doctor, a writer. A job a year, ages five through to fourteen.
Lawyer and politics came not in childhood, came in fact during adolescence. The result of her brother abandoning their father's plan for Nathan to be a lawyer and to be actively involved in the Republican party. Nathan chose instead to run away to California and become a professional surfer and a registered Independent.
She stepped up to fill the shoes Nathan had vacated, delighting in the limelight given to her by their father as she became the child Edward Hayes had wanted. Fulfillment of her father’s dream and she was ridiculously pleased with herself for being able to give her father that dream.
But that story lacks elegance, is empty of conviction. The truth makes her less than she wants to be, a girl in desperate need for self-validation. Lying is easier than admitting she was a teenage girl who just wanted her daddy’s approval and so chose the career path her father had wanted for her older brother. The story sounds much nicer now.
And so she perpetuates a lie and doesn't really care about doing this. In the grand scheme of things, it's not a big lie. It's just a tiny white lie and no one has to know. And if she one day firmly convinces herself of the truth of this story, well, then that's okay too.
2. Her grandmother used to say she'd argue just about any point. There's an element of fact contained in that statement, an actual reflection of one of Ainsley’s negative qualities.
She can never just agree. She likes to argue and debate. Likes to take a side and makes it hers. She'll play devil's advocate, doesn't matter when. It's even better when it's a topic she's passionate about, but she's not picky. She should know better, and yet she gives into this aspect of her personality every time.
The act of arguing is important, and that’s what makes up for her engaging in what could be construed as needless debates. It’s important for her to demonstrate to her audience that she can think. She needs to show that she isn't some mindless drone who merely repeats what others tell her. A mind of her own she does possess and she delights in rendering others speechless as she turns an argument upside down.
She isn't always as passionate as she pretends to be, but only she knows that. And only she knows of her vital need to argue and to win.
3. She's flattered when Sam is rendered momentarily back to being a thirteen-year old boy. It's nice to be noticed as a female, as someone who is attractive.
They'd make a cute couple, she thinks. The Barbie and Ken of the political world. They’d be well-dressed, well-spoken, intelligent, informed, and even attractive. They could take politics by storm, a Democratic speechwriter for the President dating a Republican lawyer who works in the Counsel’s office.
Then she blinks and the fantasy slides away.
She knows they’d never work. They're different stripes and they would only clash. Red and blue aren’t complementary colors after all. They're each too passionate, too strong-willed, and too opinionated. It would be one hell of a romance, intense romance she knows, but it would end disastrously. It's better to not contemplate such an option.
Relationships require compromise, not a word in either of their vocabularies, not truthfully. And since she's always been a bit of a realistic, she doesn't indulge in fantasies that would put a thirteen-year old girl to shame.
And so she focuses on what's at hand, concentrates on her work, and pretends she never compared her and Sam to Barbie and Ken.
4. According to the masses, leaving is never easy.
But that's just wishful thinking. Ainsley firmly believes leaving is easy. It's just another decision and lives are composed of decisions. Decisions are what make a life go forward, go backwards. Decisions are what make life real.
She's not the first person to leave. She's not even a major player in this game, not like Sam. She's only important because of what she symbolizes, a Republican in a Democratic White House. And being a symbol isn't a good reason to stay. It's perhaps not even a good reason to join, but what's done is done.
She's grown weary of being a symbol. She's tired of the instantaneous judgements she has to work overtime to change. She's tired of assumptions and stereotypes and even politics to an extent.
It's time to move on, time to pack up her office and set out once again. Time for a break and this isn't a hard decision. Nor is it hard to turn in her resignation and leave behind her job of almost three years. Cites personal reasons when questioned and asks for a reference in the next breath.
Not fun, definitely not, but not difficult. One day she's there and the next she's not. It's really that simple.
5. Her office isn't Oliver's old office. It's still a nice office with large windows and heat that's blissfully normal.
She hadn't planned to work once again at the White House, at least not under a Democratic President. But here she is, once again a Republican in a Democratic White House. This time is different, though, since she sought out this job. It wasn't her intention to ask CJ about working again at the White House after Leo's funeral, but then the words came out of her mouth and she realized she did want to return. And so she contacted the right people and found herself employed once more by the White House.
Another thing she's heard is that you can't go back. Maybe that's true for home, but she's pretty sure it isn't in general true. At least in this case it isn't true. Because she's back and there’s nothing uncomfortable about being back in this place.
And when Sam comes to stand in her doorway, dropping off a causal, "Hey Ainsley, I need your opinion on something," she just smiles and waves him in.
Not a routine moment this early on in the game, and yet it feels normal and almost homely. Like something she's always known and maybe that's a little weird. It feels good, though, so who cares if there's perhaps there’s eccentric factor to the whole thing. These are just her thoughts and no one is privy to them but her. And since she doesn't view herself as weird, she can't be odd.
She leans back in her chair, lets the sun warm her neck, listens to Sam rabble, and tries to focus on the present and not on what the future may hold.
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The End
CHARACTERS: Ainsley POV, mention of Ainsley/Sam
RATING: PG
DISCLAIMER: I don't own The West Wing or any of its characters.
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1. "Only since I was two," she quips to Leo McGarry.
But the key point is it's a lie. No truth whatsoever. She didn't dream of politics as a little girl. She dreamed of Prince Charming and fairytale weddings. She wanted to be, in order of appearance, a teacher, a puppeteer, a nurse, a hairdresser, a chef, a journalist, a fly attendant, an actor, a doctor, a writer. A job a year, ages five through to fourteen.
Lawyer and politics came not in childhood, came in fact during adolescence. The result of her brother abandoning their father's plan for Nathan to be a lawyer and to be actively involved in the Republican party. Nathan chose instead to run away to California and become a professional surfer and a registered Independent.
She stepped up to fill the shoes Nathan had vacated, delighting in the limelight given to her by their father as she became the child Edward Hayes had wanted. Fulfillment of her father’s dream and she was ridiculously pleased with herself for being able to give her father that dream.
But that story lacks elegance, is empty of conviction. The truth makes her less than she wants to be, a girl in desperate need for self-validation. Lying is easier than admitting she was a teenage girl who just wanted her daddy’s approval and so chose the career path her father had wanted for her older brother. The story sounds much nicer now.
And so she perpetuates a lie and doesn't really care about doing this. In the grand scheme of things, it's not a big lie. It's just a tiny white lie and no one has to know. And if she one day firmly convinces herself of the truth of this story, well, then that's okay too.
2. Her grandmother used to say she'd argue just about any point. There's an element of fact contained in that statement, an actual reflection of one of Ainsley’s negative qualities.
She can never just agree. She likes to argue and debate. Likes to take a side and makes it hers. She'll play devil's advocate, doesn't matter when. It's even better when it's a topic she's passionate about, but she's not picky. She should know better, and yet she gives into this aspect of her personality every time.
The act of arguing is important, and that’s what makes up for her engaging in what could be construed as needless debates. It’s important for her to demonstrate to her audience that she can think. She needs to show that she isn't some mindless drone who merely repeats what others tell her. A mind of her own she does possess and she delights in rendering others speechless as she turns an argument upside down.
She isn't always as passionate as she pretends to be, but only she knows that. And only she knows of her vital need to argue and to win.
3. She's flattered when Sam is rendered momentarily back to being a thirteen-year old boy. It's nice to be noticed as a female, as someone who is attractive.
They'd make a cute couple, she thinks. The Barbie and Ken of the political world. They’d be well-dressed, well-spoken, intelligent, informed, and even attractive. They could take politics by storm, a Democratic speechwriter for the President dating a Republican lawyer who works in the Counsel’s office.
Then she blinks and the fantasy slides away.
She knows they’d never work. They're different stripes and they would only clash. Red and blue aren’t complementary colors after all. They're each too passionate, too strong-willed, and too opinionated. It would be one hell of a romance, intense romance she knows, but it would end disastrously. It's better to not contemplate such an option.
Relationships require compromise, not a word in either of their vocabularies, not truthfully. And since she's always been a bit of a realistic, she doesn't indulge in fantasies that would put a thirteen-year old girl to shame.
And so she focuses on what's at hand, concentrates on her work, and pretends she never compared her and Sam to Barbie and Ken.
4. According to the masses, leaving is never easy.
But that's just wishful thinking. Ainsley firmly believes leaving is easy. It's just another decision and lives are composed of decisions. Decisions are what make a life go forward, go backwards. Decisions are what make life real.
She's not the first person to leave. She's not even a major player in this game, not like Sam. She's only important because of what she symbolizes, a Republican in a Democratic White House. And being a symbol isn't a good reason to stay. It's perhaps not even a good reason to join, but what's done is done.
She's grown weary of being a symbol. She's tired of the instantaneous judgements she has to work overtime to change. She's tired of assumptions and stereotypes and even politics to an extent.
It's time to move on, time to pack up her office and set out once again. Time for a break and this isn't a hard decision. Nor is it hard to turn in her resignation and leave behind her job of almost three years. Cites personal reasons when questioned and asks for a reference in the next breath.
Not fun, definitely not, but not difficult. One day she's there and the next she's not. It's really that simple.
5. Her office isn't Oliver's old office. It's still a nice office with large windows and heat that's blissfully normal.
She hadn't planned to work once again at the White House, at least not under a Democratic President. But here she is, once again a Republican in a Democratic White House. This time is different, though, since she sought out this job. It wasn't her intention to ask CJ about working again at the White House after Leo's funeral, but then the words came out of her mouth and she realized she did want to return. And so she contacted the right people and found herself employed once more by the White House.
Another thing she's heard is that you can't go back. Maybe that's true for home, but she's pretty sure it isn't in general true. At least in this case it isn't true. Because she's back and there’s nothing uncomfortable about being back in this place.
And when Sam comes to stand in her doorway, dropping off a causal, "Hey Ainsley, I need your opinion on something," she just smiles and waves him in.
Not a routine moment this early on in the game, and yet it feels normal and almost homely. Like something she's always known and maybe that's a little weird. It feels good, though, so who cares if there's perhaps there’s eccentric factor to the whole thing. These are just her thoughts and no one is privy to them but her. And since she doesn't view herself as weird, she can't be odd.
She leans back in her chair, lets the sun warm her neck, listens to Sam rabble, and tries to focus on the present and not on what the future may hold.
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The End