Staring Down The Barrel Of A Gun
"It's not about being a Democrat or a Republican, Sam." Ainsley tilted her head to one side and smiled. Sam had never seen such a formidable smile.
"Are you sure?" Sam raised an eyebrow. "Because it looks that way from here. In fact, the whole issue of gun control, and public safety, and especially my safety, is looking very important right now."
"Not scared, are you, Sam?" Silence. "Though maybe you should be. My daddy taught me to shoot, real well."
"You wouldn't." Sam managed to make the statement sound confident; at least, he hoped he'd succeeded. This was his office, and he was supposed to be in charge here. Not that it looked that way at the moment.
"Aha, a challenge. And you know we Republicans can't resist a challenge." The smile got even wider. Sam couldn't help wondering how such a beautiful woman could look so evil.
Then her trigger finger moved and the one good thing was that he couldn't see her evil smile any more.
He could hear her laughing though.
He wiped the water, the very cold water, off his face, and looked down at his soaked shirt.
"Bonnie," he shouted. Then he glared at Ainsley. "It's a good thing I have a spare shirt here."
"I don't know, you look kinda good in a wet shirt. Don't ya think, CJ?"
"Very funny, Ainsley. CJ's in the press room right now."
"Actually, no, I'm not, I'm right here." CJ poked her head around the office door, wearing an identical smile to Ainsley. "I wouldn't miss seeing you bested by a woman, yet again, for anything. And damn, yes, you do look good in a wet shirt. Who'd have thought?"
Ainsley turned to CJ. "D'ya think he works out?"
Bonnie squeezed by CJ into the office and looked Sam up and down, admiringly. "Looks like it."
"Ladies?" Sam groaned. "Though I use that term loosely, obviously. You might like to remember that I'm still in the room. And Bonnie, if you can stop laughing for a moment, maybe you could get me a towel? I'm sure there are some in the women's locker-room." Sam glared, in the hope that it would empty his office of evil women.
"So, Ainsley, do you think I could borrow your water pistol for the next press briefing? I can think of a few faces in the press corp that would look better for a soaking.
"Sure thing, CJ."
The women exited the room, talking animatedly. Sam deliberately shut his ears to the sound -- he really didn't want to know what they were planning next. Besides, he was much more concerned about how he was going to explain the wet patch on the front of his pants to the president.