03/19/01
Garden of Memories
by Dallas Thompson
Rating: G.
Archive: Sure, lemme know where, please.
Disclaimers: I don't own Sam, Ainsley, those belong to the God,
Aaron. Don't sue, please. I'm a poor high school kid.
Author's Notes: PLEASE, I'm a feedback starved author. I'd appreciate it if you could let me know what you think. :) This takes place two days after "Carolina In My Mind."
CJ sighed as she entered the press room. "Good morning, Ladies and Gentleman. I would like to-"
"Who are the people in the article, CJ?" Several people called. She sighed again. "The identies of the two staffers mentioned in the article are unknown. Moving on, I'd like to thank. . ." She continued on with the briefing, thankful when no one else questioned her about the small blurb in the gossip column. She climbed down from the podium and made her way to her office, thinking she would like to kill Joshua Lyman. "Josh!" She called sharply as she walked by him. "My office, now!"
"Yeah?" He asked, following her.
"Dancing?? In a bar?? With Donna??"
"What are you talking about?"
"The paper, Josh! The paper!"
"What paper, CJ? What paper?"
"The one that reads: 'A pretty young White House staffer and her knight in shining armor shared a close moment on Thursday night. Is there romance on the horizon? Keep your eyes open, folks, for a Rose Garden wedding.' That one!"
"CJ, that's not me!"
"And that's not you and Donna?? This was stupid! I know you love her for Pete's sake, but could you love her privately?"
"It's not me and Donna."
"First line of defense, Josh!"
"I know!"
"Yeah." CJ dropped down into her chair and shook her head. "Next time, come to me. Please."
"CJ. . . It's not Donna and me! I don't love her! She's like a. . . a. .. a. . . A little sister or something!"
"Yeah. Right. Go away, Josh. I have to do this." She sighed and began to write. He nodded and left.
Sam smiled at Josh as he walked into his office. "You dog. You and Donna got together, and you didn't tell me!"
"For the last time, it is *not* Donna and Me!!!"
"Josh, this is me, Sam, come on!"
"I'm telling you, man. It's not me or Donna."
"Sure it's not. . ." Sam grinned as he left the office and walked down to his. He was surprised to see Abbey sitting in a chair.
"Mrs. Bartlet. . . What can I do for you?"
"How long have you and Ainsley had a thing, Sam?"
"A thing?"
"The two people in the article. You. Ainsley. How long has it been going on?"
"Nothing is going on. She was upset about her Dad. I was trying to help her."
"Okay. Answer this for me, Sam. Do you remember what it felt like to hold her?" Abbey was smiling softly at the look in his eyes. Sam, however, was trying not to remember the feel of her in his arms, her head against his heart, how silky her hair had been. "No, Ma'am. Can't say that I do."
"Okay," she said, knowing he was lying. "Tell me this: Do you remember what she smelled like?"
"Mrs. Bartlet, with all due respect, you're way off."
"If you say so, Sam."
"I do," he said, running his fingers through his hair.
"Okay," she said as she stood, turning and leaving quickly. Sam dropped back into his chair and closed his eyes, murmuring softly.
"Roses. . ."
The end! Feedback. . . Please!!
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