by Lisa Verson

Disclaimer: These characters belong to Aaron Sorkin, not me.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: "The Portland Trip" and "The Lame Duck Congress"
Author's Notes: This is in response to a challenge which asks what happened between Sam and Ainsley that is causing Sam's writer's block and what and how did he cure it? Thanks to Gigi who sort of inspired me to write a fanfic.
Feedback: Yes, please! (
Archive: Anywhere you like

It was driving him crazy. He could not get her out of his head. 'I have to concentrate on this memo on education, not her,' he thought. Ainsley was constantly talking and bothering Sam. 'Why can't I get her out of my head? She talks too much, is always hungry, and is a Republican!' It wasn't working.

"Sam! Where are you? I need that memo on education," Toby said in his usual gruff voice.

"I...I, uh...I haven't finished it yet." He said, stuttering.

Toby let out an exasperated sigh. "Well, when will you be finished with it? I need to give it to the President."

"Give me an hour," Sam said without thinking about the fact that he would not have it done in an hour.

"Alright, but it had better be done." Toby walked away and went back to his own work.

'Okay Sam, you can do this. You can write this without thinking about what she did today.' Sam thought as he tried to concentrate on his memo. It wasn't working. All he could think about was Ainsley.


That Morning

Sam walked into the Communications bullpen, only to find Ainsley leaning against Cathy's desk. "What are you doing up here?" He asked in an accusing manner.

"I have to ask you a favor," she said in an innocent voice.

Sam rolled his eyes, luckily she wasn't looking at him at the moment. "What do you need? A muffin, a donut, some sort of pastry or breakfast food?" He asked getting fed up.

"No," she had not been insulted by what he just said. She just kept that innocent look on her face. "I would like it very much if you could talk to Tribbey about my current 'office.' I cannot work in there, it's too hot." She said, putting emphasis on the word 'hot.'

"Well, he's not here today, so you'll just have to deal with the heat." God she looked beautiful. Her hair was in a bun that covered the top of her head. He couldn't take his eyes off of her.

"Sam, come on, please? You are, after all, the master who I learn from." She said in such a tone that made Sam blush a crimson color of red.

"Don't play that game again, Ainsley. I already gave in once. I'm not going to give in again. Besides, I have work to do," he said, not looking at her, but rather the floor. 'That's right, Sam. Don't let her get to you again.' He looked back up and was about to walk into his office when he looked at her face. She was very committed to her work, after all, she told off Peter last week, and did an excellent job with it.

Ainsley looked almost hurt, like she was about to cry or worse. "Fine, I'll just go work in my sweat room of an office."

She started to walk away when Sam finally gave in. He grabbed her arm, gently pulling her back. "Okay, you can work at Cathy's desk today. She's not here, so you can work there for today." Sam could not believe what he had just done. He gave in again! He swore that he would not do that.

"Thanks, Sam," Ainsley said in that tone that made Sam once again blush.

"Yeah, uh, you're welcome. I'm just going to go to my office now and finish some work before I have to leave for Portland." As he was walking to his office, he wasn't looking where he was going and bumped into his door, which had yet to be unlocked. He blushed again, this time not letting Ainsley see him.

"Sam?" He quickly turned around. "Thank you and good luck tonight. I know how difficult that education memo must be." How did she know about that? "Mr. McGarry...Leo told me about it yesterday."

"Oh...okay," he said as he nodded his head and smiled at her. "Yeah, it is a difficult memo."

"Yeah," she said in a suggestive tone, "I should get to work.

"Me too, he said while he opened the door to his office and sat at his desk.



He could only concentrate on how beautiful Ainsley looked that day.

"Sam? Earth to Sam!" Toby nearly yelled. "Let me see your draft."

"It's not good enough." Sam said, now irritated with himself. "Let me write it over."

"Fine," Toby said gruffly.

Two hours later, C.J. and Toby went to see the President. Toby had to give Bartlet the finished memo and C.J. had to, at some point, sing the Notre Dame fight song. But where was Sam?

In another room on the plane, Sam pulled out his cell phone and dialed a familiar number.

"Hello?" Why was Ainsley answering Josh's phone?

"Hi, Ainsley, it's Sam. What are you doing at Donna's desk?"

"She let me come upstairs to work so I wouldn't have to sit in an incredibly hot room," she said, sounding very tired.

"I thought you were at Cathy's desk," Sam said in a confused voice.

"I had to get some stuff from my office and decided to work in there for awhile. What do you need?"

"I just wanted to see how you were." Sam said with a smile on his face. "I wanted to make sure you were, uh...okay."

"Okay," She said, smiling. "That's very sweet of you, but shouldn't you be working on the memo?"

"It's done. Toby helped me out."

"Why weren't you able to write it by yourself?" She asked, knowing the answer.

"I was...distracted." He managed to get out. "Something was...never mind. We're about to land, so I have to go. I'll see you tomorrow, goodnight."

"Goodnight, Sam," Ainsley said, hanging up the phone.

Sam looked at the memo he had written. She may have distracted him, but just thinking about her helped Sam to write the memo. He leaned against the seat, thinking about about her.

The End

Lisa's Stories | Archive by Author | Archive by Title