FIC::West Wing::Get A Room (And No, I Don't Mean the Oval Office)
I've been writing like mad lately, which is a good thing, considering I've suffered a year-long slump almost. I wrote some Sam/Ainsley fic in the twenty-minute eye of the six-hour-Internet-less-storm that I was in. Also, it is snowing and icing like the Devil out there. Blerg. And tomorrow, I have three classes. *dance* NOT.
Title: Get A Room (And No, I Don't Mean the Oval Office)
Author:
hyacinthian
Rating: PG
Author's Note: Zahmg, Fluff like woah. It's mainly dialogue and quite possibly OOC because I didn't have it betaed. But I felt like good old Sam and Ainsley banter and fluff. And discussion of Beatles songs! And, um, yes, this is very very saccharine. It might rot your teeth and make your gums prematurely recede. Also, it might be a little badly written. (But do I care? No!) And I owe the title to
michellek's advice about the matter. Who knows if it worked?
Summary: If you let the crumbs fall on your lips, maybe you'll let me help you clean up. [SamAinsley]
"Standin' in the dock of Southampton..."
She approached him from behind, smiling at the sight he made. "Beatles fan?"
He turned. "What are you doing here?" He narrowed his eyes in mock suspicion. "Scouting for the opposition? I can see the headlines now: 'Sam Seaborn Supports Partisan Liberal English Group Beatles.'"
"Oh, Sam. You should know better. That would never fit on a headline. Do you know how wide the margins would have to be?"
"So you are. Great. Bill O' Reilly's going to foist me onto his show and make me listen to some country music in order for me to reclaim my long lost masculinity."
She laughed. "Sadly, I didn't have any deviant schemes planned this early in the morning. I came for some muffins and a 64 oz. cup of coffee."
He crinkled his nose. "Drinking that much coffee has to be bad for your teeth."
"No worries. I have a dentist."
"You can't regrow enamel." She plucked a muffin from the basket and bit into it with girlish glee.
"That is the great thing about fall."
"What? Regrowing tooth enamel?" She rolled her eyes.
"No. Pumpkin spice muffins. Yum." As she slowly chewed her bite, she watched as he thumbed through the newspaper. The ink smudged his fingers and she imagined another time. Thought about them sitting at the kitchen table: her with her coffee and muffin, him with his paper, and maybe a kid or two running around, breaking things. "Why were you singing 'The Ballad of John and Yoko' anyway?"
"It has such poetry to it, don't you think?"
"Not as much as 'Come Together' and its stirring images of...whatever." He scoffed and she almost choked on her muffin in indignation. "Come on! Abbey Road."
"Come together right now over me?"
"It was for a political campaign," she defended. "I do see your point though. 'Christ, you know it ain't easy' just stirs tears from the deepest pits of humanity."
"I want to write a Beatles song."
"Oh, Sam. Please don't."
"What? Why not?"
"Do you remember the time you wrote a sonnet?"
"I liked it!"
"Sam, you wrote it! Why wouldn't you like it?"
"Yeah, well, read my depositions. There's real poetry in there."
"Yes, I'm sure."
"You think you're so smart."
"I did go to Harvard."
"I went to Princeton."
"Ah, but US News and World Report likes my school better."
"Are we going to enter into a striking rendition of West Side Story: Ivy League?"
"Now there's an idea. You could write that."
"Yes, that's perfect," he said, dryly. "What would the first song be? Let Go of My Cardigan?"
"Hey. I'll have you know that I never wore a cardigan."
"Oh," he hummed deliciously in the back of his throat. He reached forward and clasped his hands behind her back, pulling her towards him. "Now I've ensnared you in the Lasso of Truth."
"Of course, Wonder Woman. Please let me go before you shove me in the Invisible Plane."
"You think you're so cute."
"I am so cute." He pulled her forward until she was flush against him and gently rocked against her. In plain defiance, she lifted the muffin up between them and took another bite. She chewed slowly and her tongue darted out to pick up the crumbs left behind on her lips. She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
Leaning in, he kissed her. Snaring her lip between his, he plied her mouth open with his tongue. Her fingers wound in his hair and he was growing considerably warmer.
"Sam, correct me if I'm wrong, but this is the White House, right? And not your disgustingly illl-kept apartment?"
He pulled away as Ainsley tucked her head into his shoulder and laughed. "Sorry, Toby."
Title: Get A Room (And No, I Don't Mean the Oval Office)
Author:
hyacinthian
Rating: PG
Author's Note: Zahmg, Fluff like woah. It's mainly dialogue and quite possibly OOC because I didn't have it betaed. But I felt like good old Sam and Ainsley banter and fluff. And discussion of Beatles songs! And, um, yes, this is very very saccharine. It might rot your teeth and make your gums prematurely recede. Also, it might be a little badly written. (But do I care? No!) And I owe the title to
michellek's advice about the matter. Who knows if it worked?
Summary: If you let the crumbs fall on your lips, maybe you'll let me help you clean up. [SamAinsley]
"Standin' in the dock of Southampton..."
She approached him from behind, smiling at the sight he made. "Beatles fan?"
He turned. "What are you doing here?" He narrowed his eyes in mock suspicion. "Scouting for the opposition? I can see the headlines now: 'Sam Seaborn Supports Partisan Liberal English Group Beatles.'"
"Oh, Sam. You should know better. That would never fit on a headline. Do you know how wide the margins would have to be?"
"So you are. Great. Bill O' Reilly's going to foist me onto his show and make me listen to some country music in order for me to reclaim my long lost masculinity."
She laughed. "Sadly, I didn't have any deviant schemes planned this early in the morning. I came for some muffins and a 64 oz. cup of coffee."
He crinkled his nose. "Drinking that much coffee has to be bad for your teeth."
"No worries. I have a dentist."
"You can't regrow enamel." She plucked a muffin from the basket and bit into it with girlish glee.
"That is the great thing about fall."
"What? Regrowing tooth enamel?" She rolled her eyes.
"No. Pumpkin spice muffins. Yum." As she slowly chewed her bite, she watched as he thumbed through the newspaper. The ink smudged his fingers and she imagined another time. Thought about them sitting at the kitchen table: her with her coffee and muffin, him with his paper, and maybe a kid or two running around, breaking things. "Why were you singing 'The Ballad of John and Yoko' anyway?"
"It has such poetry to it, don't you think?"
"Not as much as 'Come Together' and its stirring images of...whatever." He scoffed and she almost choked on her muffin in indignation. "Come on! Abbey Road."
"Come together right now over me?"
"It was for a political campaign," she defended. "I do see your point though. 'Christ, you know it ain't easy' just stirs tears from the deepest pits of humanity."
"I want to write a Beatles song."
"Oh, Sam. Please don't."
"What? Why not?"
"Do you remember the time you wrote a sonnet?"
"I liked it!"
"Sam, you wrote it! Why wouldn't you like it?"
"Yeah, well, read my depositions. There's real poetry in there."
"Yes, I'm sure."
"You think you're so smart."
"I did go to Harvard."
"I went to Princeton."
"Ah, but US News and World Report likes my school better."
"Are we going to enter into a striking rendition of West Side Story: Ivy League?"
"Now there's an idea. You could write that."
"Yes, that's perfect," he said, dryly. "What would the first song be? Let Go of My Cardigan?"
"Hey. I'll have you know that I never wore a cardigan."
"Oh," he hummed deliciously in the back of his throat. He reached forward and clasped his hands behind her back, pulling her towards him. "Now I've ensnared you in the Lasso of Truth."
"Of course, Wonder Woman. Please let me go before you shove me in the Invisible Plane."
"You think you're so cute."
"I am so cute." He pulled her forward until she was flush against him and gently rocked against her. In plain defiance, she lifted the muffin up between them and took another bite. She chewed slowly and her tongue darted out to pick up the crumbs left behind on her lips. She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
Leaning in, he kissed her. Snaring her lip between his, he plied her mouth open with his tongue. Her fingers wound in his hair and he was growing considerably warmer.
"Sam, correct me if I'm wrong, but this is the White House, right? And not your disgustingly illl-kept apartment?"
He pulled away as Ainsley tucked her head into his shoulder and laughed. "Sorry, Toby."