Fic: It's Me or the Muffin
17 May 2010 08:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thisbluespiritI wasn’t very well today and spent a lot of it lying about not doing much and watching The West Wing (when I had the energy). And I’ve come to the conclusion (all but 3 eps from the end of S3) that I’m not sure it will ever give me the entertaining trainwreck that would be actual Sam/Ainsley, and, after all the random encounters every six episodes or so, I want the trainwreck. So I wrote this. Half my brain wasn’t working and I know pretty much nothing about Democrats and Republicans, so I made it mostly about muffins. Not that I know much about muffins, either. I’ll write everything I was supposed to be writing and catch up properly when I have a brain again. It may comfort people to know that enforced inactivity also got me to work out an awkward UNIT-related plot point. Or not.
(No spoilers. Except for there being characters called Sam and Ainsley, and that nothing like this has happened so far, sadly. Sorry.)
Story: It's Me or the Muffin
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lost_spook
Rating: All ages
Word Count: 1359
Characters/Pairings: Sam Seaborn, Ainsley Hayes, Josh Lyman
Warnings: None. Except what I said above.
Summary: Ainsley has an ultimatum to make. Either way, she's expecting to get a muffin.
It’s Me or the Muffin
***
“Ask me why it’s a good morning.”
Sam glanced up at Ainsley, who was standing in the doorway of his office, wearing a dove grey skirt and jacket and deep red blouse that had an interesting draped sort of effect at the front. (Not that fashion was his strong point, but he generally appreciated the view when it was Ainsley doing the wearing of it.) He looked back at his watch. “It’s morning already?”
“You have got to leave the building from time to time,” she advised him. “So, go on, ask me why it’s a good morning.”
He put down his pen. “Am I going to regret it if I do?”
“I’ve decided,” said Ainsley, ignoring that remark, “that it’s a good morning because you’re going to buy me a muffin.”
“I am?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
He narrowed his gaze. “Any particular reason? I’m the one who’s been up all night. Maybe you should buy me a muffin.”
“Maybe, but you don’t appreciate them the way I do,” she said. “Do you want me to answer that with all the reasons you should buy me a muffin, or do you just want to come and buy me one?”
Sam thought about it; opened his mouth, and shut it again. “Hey, I thought we got along these days.”
“You ruined my last vacation,” she pointed out.
“For a promotion.”
“I know, and the spirit of tokenism and political expediency in which that was made touched me to my very core,” she drawled, putting her hand to her heart. “Want me to go on?”
He got to his feet. “I’ll buy you a muffin.”
*
“So,” said Ainsley, as they arrived in the canteen. “Want to hear why?”
He rubbed his forehead. “Bearing in mind I may not actually be awake any more, okay. Shoot.”
“I thought,” she said, “if you’re not going to ask me out, then you might at least buy me a muffin.”
Sam paused. “And, clearly there’s a strong possibility that this might be a dream. Where did that come from? Do you even like me?”
“That isn’t important.”
“I’d have thought it was.”
She sighed. “Listen. You find that out when you ask the girl out on a date, not before. And since you’re too arrogant to do that, that’s something you’ll never discover. I’d like an orange-cranberry one, please.”
“That last bit was about the muffin, right?” he said. “And you’d say arrogant, would you?”
She shrugged, “Well, it’d be a blow to your pride to be seen out in public with a Republican. Otherwise I’m guessing even you might have asked by now.”
“I think we made a pretty big leap of logic there.”
“No, ‘we’ didn’t.”
He stopped her from moving further up the line. “Who says I want to ask you out?”
“You do.”
“You’ve this second told me I never have.”
Ainsley rolled her eyes. “Compliment me on my dress once more, Sam, why don’t you? Or summon me to your office to make some petty point a few more times. Okay, so it’s fun, but I have work to do, and if you can’t get over the R word, let’s have a little less of the school yard.”
“The school yard?”
“You haven’t pulled my hair and run away yet,” she said, with a smile, “but I think we’re getting there.”
He shrugged. “Just because I notice you doesn’t mean -.”
“You’re too much of a spineless coward to actually do something about it, because how would you explain that one to your friends? And, frankly, if you can’t see past our political differences this once and view me as a human being, you owe me a muffin. Several muffins, in fact.”
“Ainsley, of course, I see you as a human being. Besides, who says you’d be willing to be seen out with a Democrat? Hah.”
She chose her muffin and looked at him. “Let’s make this easy for you: if I wanted to go out with the Democrat who was asking, then I’d say yes. It may have passed you by, but I work in the White House. You can imagine what my friends think of that, but I still come here every day and hold my head up afterwards. So, I’d say yes, Sam. Now, ask me, or pay for the muffin and go.”
“You’d say… yes?”
She took her tray over to a table. “You really aren’t very awake this morning, are you.”
“What brought this on?” he asked, following her over. “Is this some weird revenge thing?”
Ainsley paused. “You know, I knew you were annoying, but I always thought you had intelligence. Well, it’s not as if it’s a shock. I knew that was it – and I know damn well you’ll never have the courage to risk asking out the enemy – or worse, the humiliation of having anyone else know it. At least this way I get to find out for sure, and I get a muffin.”
“Who says that’s the reason? After all, it’d be awkward,” he said, shifting in his seat. “I mean, workplace relationships and that sort of thing -.”
She nodded to herself. “Of course, Sam. Because that’s it. That’s completely it, nothing to do with anything else at all.”
“There might be other complications,” he acknowledged. “Plus, who says I want to ask out a crazy lady who’s calling me a coward and holding me to ransom for a muffin?”
*
He got to the doorway, and turned around again, rejoining her at the table. “For your information, I am not a coward, and neither am I arrogant, or prejudiced, thank you.”
“It’s quite sweet how you cling to these little delusions,” she observed.
He sat back down opposite her and said, “Go on, then. If you’re free on Friday, you name the place. Your call. As public as you like. That’ll teach you.”
“Thank you,” she said, with a wide smile. “I know a nice Chinese restaurant.”
“Why does that not surprise me? That’s not very public, though.”
She shrugged. “Well, I do have some pride of my own, you know. We’ll work up to that.”
“If we don’t kill each other on Friday,” he agreed. Then he paused. “You knew I’d say that, if you made it a challenge, didn’t you?”
“It was a likely outcome,” she said. “And I’d get a muffin anyhow.”
“You may actually be evil.”
“Why, thanks, Sam.”
“You did notice I just called you evil, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but I thought you believed that word was synonymous with Republican. I think you’ve restored my faith in human nature.”
Sam said, “Hmm.” Then he leant forward. “You know what, you’re right – I should leave the building more often. Want to come with me?”
“Yes, but I only just got here – hey, Sam!” she protested, as he caught at her hand and tugged her up.
He saw what she was after, and paused. “In this case, Ainsley, it’s me or the muffin.”
Ainsley hesitated.
“Forget I said that,” he amended. “I’ll buy you another once we get out of here.”
She smiled then. “Okay.”
“Did somebody starve you as a child?” he asked as they made their exit. “I can’t think of any other explanation for it.”
“I just don’t see why a girl can’t have her cake and eat it,” she told him. “I mean, what else are you supposed to do with it?”
“You do realise this is crazy?”
“I know. And I have to be back for a meeting at ten, okay?”
“No, I meant – us, I suppose.”
She smiled. “It doesn’t worry me, Sam, so that’s your problem.”
*
“You’re looking suspiciously cheerful,” said Josh, breaking off mid-conversation. “What is it you keep grinning at?”
Sam stopped. “Me? Oh, nothing. It was a good morning, that’s all.”
“It was? Any reason, because I thought it wasn’t that great as mornings go? But then they never look the same when you didn’t get to bed the night before.”
He shrugged. “Well, I bought Ainsley a muffin.”
“You’re a strange person,” said Josh.
“I am.”
“As long as we both know that, that’s okay.”
***
(No spoilers. Except for there being characters called Sam and Ainsley, and that nothing like this has happened so far, sadly. Sorry.)
Story: It's Me or the Muffin
Author:
lost_spookRating: All ages
Word Count: 1359
Characters/Pairings: Sam Seaborn, Ainsley Hayes, Josh Lyman
Warnings: None. Except what I said above.
Summary: Ainsley has an ultimatum to make. Either way, she's expecting to get a muffin.
It’s Me or the Muffin
***
“Ask me why it’s a good morning.”
Sam glanced up at Ainsley, who was standing in the doorway of his office, wearing a dove grey skirt and jacket and deep red blouse that had an interesting draped sort of effect at the front. (Not that fashion was his strong point, but he generally appreciated the view when it was Ainsley doing the wearing of it.) He looked back at his watch. “It’s morning already?”
“You have got to leave the building from time to time,” she advised him. “So, go on, ask me why it’s a good morning.”
He put down his pen. “Am I going to regret it if I do?”
“I’ve decided,” said Ainsley, ignoring that remark, “that it’s a good morning because you’re going to buy me a muffin.”
“I am?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
He narrowed his gaze. “Any particular reason? I’m the one who’s been up all night. Maybe you should buy me a muffin.”
“Maybe, but you don’t appreciate them the way I do,” she said. “Do you want me to answer that with all the reasons you should buy me a muffin, or do you just want to come and buy me one?”
Sam thought about it; opened his mouth, and shut it again. “Hey, I thought we got along these days.”
“You ruined my last vacation,” she pointed out.
“For a promotion.”
“I know, and the spirit of tokenism and political expediency in which that was made touched me to my very core,” she drawled, putting her hand to her heart. “Want me to go on?”
He got to his feet. “I’ll buy you a muffin.”
*
“So,” said Ainsley, as they arrived in the canteen. “Want to hear why?”
He rubbed his forehead. “Bearing in mind I may not actually be awake any more, okay. Shoot.”
“I thought,” she said, “if you’re not going to ask me out, then you might at least buy me a muffin.”
Sam paused. “And, clearly there’s a strong possibility that this might be a dream. Where did that come from? Do you even like me?”
“That isn’t important.”
“I’d have thought it was.”
She sighed. “Listen. You find that out when you ask the girl out on a date, not before. And since you’re too arrogant to do that, that’s something you’ll never discover. I’d like an orange-cranberry one, please.”
“That last bit was about the muffin, right?” he said. “And you’d say arrogant, would you?”
She shrugged, “Well, it’d be a blow to your pride to be seen out in public with a Republican. Otherwise I’m guessing even you might have asked by now.”
“I think we made a pretty big leap of logic there.”
“No, ‘we’ didn’t.”
He stopped her from moving further up the line. “Who says I want to ask you out?”
“You do.”
“You’ve this second told me I never have.”
Ainsley rolled her eyes. “Compliment me on my dress once more, Sam, why don’t you? Or summon me to your office to make some petty point a few more times. Okay, so it’s fun, but I have work to do, and if you can’t get over the R word, let’s have a little less of the school yard.”
“The school yard?”
“You haven’t pulled my hair and run away yet,” she said, with a smile, “but I think we’re getting there.”
He shrugged. “Just because I notice you doesn’t mean -.”
“You’re too much of a spineless coward to actually do something about it, because how would you explain that one to your friends? And, frankly, if you can’t see past our political differences this once and view me as a human being, you owe me a muffin. Several muffins, in fact.”
“Ainsley, of course, I see you as a human being. Besides, who says you’d be willing to be seen out with a Democrat? Hah.”
She chose her muffin and looked at him. “Let’s make this easy for you: if I wanted to go out with the Democrat who was asking, then I’d say yes. It may have passed you by, but I work in the White House. You can imagine what my friends think of that, but I still come here every day and hold my head up afterwards. So, I’d say yes, Sam. Now, ask me, or pay for the muffin and go.”
“You’d say… yes?”
She took her tray over to a table. “You really aren’t very awake this morning, are you.”
“What brought this on?” he asked, following her over. “Is this some weird revenge thing?”
Ainsley paused. “You know, I knew you were annoying, but I always thought you had intelligence. Well, it’s not as if it’s a shock. I knew that was it – and I know damn well you’ll never have the courage to risk asking out the enemy – or worse, the humiliation of having anyone else know it. At least this way I get to find out for sure, and I get a muffin.”
“Who says that’s the reason? After all, it’d be awkward,” he said, shifting in his seat. “I mean, workplace relationships and that sort of thing -.”
She nodded to herself. “Of course, Sam. Because that’s it. That’s completely it, nothing to do with anything else at all.”
“There might be other complications,” he acknowledged. “Plus, who says I want to ask out a crazy lady who’s calling me a coward and holding me to ransom for a muffin?”
*
He got to the doorway, and turned around again, rejoining her at the table. “For your information, I am not a coward, and neither am I arrogant, or prejudiced, thank you.”
“It’s quite sweet how you cling to these little delusions,” she observed.
He sat back down opposite her and said, “Go on, then. If you’re free on Friday, you name the place. Your call. As public as you like. That’ll teach you.”
“Thank you,” she said, with a wide smile. “I know a nice Chinese restaurant.”
“Why does that not surprise me? That’s not very public, though.”
She shrugged. “Well, I do have some pride of my own, you know. We’ll work up to that.”
“If we don’t kill each other on Friday,” he agreed. Then he paused. “You knew I’d say that, if you made it a challenge, didn’t you?”
“It was a likely outcome,” she said. “And I’d get a muffin anyhow.”
“You may actually be evil.”
“Why, thanks, Sam.”
“You did notice I just called you evil, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but I thought you believed that word was synonymous with Republican. I think you’ve restored my faith in human nature.”
Sam said, “Hmm.” Then he leant forward. “You know what, you’re right – I should leave the building more often. Want to come with me?”
“Yes, but I only just got here – hey, Sam!” she protested, as he caught at her hand and tugged her up.
He saw what she was after, and paused. “In this case, Ainsley, it’s me or the muffin.”
Ainsley hesitated.
“Forget I said that,” he amended. “I’ll buy you another once we get out of here.”
She smiled then. “Okay.”
“Did somebody starve you as a child?” he asked as they made their exit. “I can’t think of any other explanation for it.”
“I just don’t see why a girl can’t have her cake and eat it,” she told him. “I mean, what else are you supposed to do with it?”
“You do realise this is crazy?”
“I know. And I have to be back for a meeting at ten, okay?”
“No, I meant – us, I suppose.”
She smiled. “It doesn’t worry me, Sam, so that’s your problem.”
*
“You’re looking suspiciously cheerful,” said Josh, breaking off mid-conversation. “What is it you keep grinning at?”
Sam stopped. “Me? Oh, nothing. It was a good morning, that’s all.”
“It was? Any reason, because I thought it wasn’t that great as mornings go? But then they never look the same when you didn’t get to bed the night before.”
He shrugged. “Well, I bought Ainsley a muffin.”
“You’re a strange person,” said Josh.
“I am.”
“As long as we both know that, that’s okay.”
***
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 17 May 2010 08:18 pm (UTC)Hope you feel better soon, too!
And UNIT, you say? Hmm...
(no subject)
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Date: 17 May 2010 10:13 pm (UTC)*fails*
(And, um, I know nothing of The West Wing beyond the premise. But you make it sound interesting.)
(no subject)
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Date: 17 May 2010 10:56 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 18 May 2010 12:19 am (UTC)(By the way, there are a few "Britishisms" in here -- do you want me to point them out? They didn't detract from my enjoyment of the fic, though. Actually, speaking as an American who tries to write British characters, it was fun to see it the other way around. I probably make little mistakes all the time -- it's almost inevitable.)
(no subject)
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Date: 18 May 2010 11:47 pm (UTC)OK now it's number one on the New Television List (behind only the to-be-caught-up-on list of the rest of Fringe and New Who). *g* Sam is totally gorgeous here. And I really want to try an orange-cranberry muffin! (Maybe I should stop reading fic and go have breakfast before I collapse into bed...)
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 20 Nov 2010 02:54 pm (UTC)I honestly have no recollection of this one at all, but that is probably because going by my previous comment I appear to have read it off the back of an all-nighter more epic than Sam's. That's my defense and I'm sticking to it.
“I’ve decided,” said Ainsley, ignoring that remark, “that it’s a good morning because you’re going to buy me a muffin.”
This so happened. It so happened!
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From: