A game, after some convincing from Sam

“It’s not my principles that’s the problem,” you reply with a smile, pulling your polo shirt over your head and fold it over the back of the nearest lawn chair before getting up on your feet, “I’ve nothing against unorganized gambling.”

“Oh, so you’d be in favour of casinos if they were run by the Democratic Party then?” Samantha fires at you, smiling impishly at first but soon having her smile fade away a little as she checks you out discreetly, though not so discreetly that you don’t notice.

“Well, considering what a great job the Republicans did of handling the US economy we can hardly let you guys run them, or the State would be bankrupt in a week,” you return fire, and are relieved when Sam responds to it with an amused chuckle.

“Touché, Hometown,” Samantha nods at you and that mischievous smile of hers makes an triumphant return, “I think I’m going to enjoy our debates…”

“I’m equal parts excited and terrified thinking about them,” you reply, kicking off your sandals to leave you in just your swimming trunks.

“What was your objection to our little wager, by the way?” The gorgeous, bikini-clad redhead asks you, smile still in place as she quickly looks around the wood deck until she spots the volleyball.

“It’s just my principle that if someone invites you to a wager over a game of an obscure sport and they already have the equipment for it in place, you should be a little careful, that’s all,” your explanation gets a laugh out of Sam. Considering how good her voice sounds, it’s not a surprise that her laugh is lovely and melodic and makes you want to hear it again.

“Good thinking, Hometown,” Sam saunters over towards the ball, and you can’t help but get a good glimpse her generously sized chest jiggle and bounce inside her bikini top before you correct yourself and aim your gaze at her face instead, “However, and in the spirit of full disclosure… the net was set up by your old neighbours. I just haven’t bothered taking it down yet.”

“Aha.”

“Though I’m touched that you’d think I’d try to ambush you first chance I get,” Tossing the ball at you, Samantha’s smile widens at your quick reflexes in catching it securely with both hands.

“What kind of wager were you thinking of?” You ask, changing the subject a little while Samantha moves towards the pool again.

“I don’t know… loser treats the winner to dinner?” Samantha suggests, leaning forwards to dip her toes in the pool.

“It’ll have to be a home cooked meal,” you point out, weighing the volleyball in your hands. Chances are neither of your party chairmen would be too happy if they found out you were having dinner together. But then again, they probably wouldn’t think that a friendly game of water volleyball is appropriate either.

“As long as you’re a good cook it won’t be a problem,” Samantha teases you, then slips into the pool, “And I won’t **** you to fix me a steak or anything.”

“Well… that flat-bread pizza was delicious,” You reply, complimenting and teasing Sam at the same time, tossing the ball back to her and being slightly concerned at the agile manner in which she cuts through the water easily to catch it. You’ll probably lose, but you at least want to give her a good match.

“Could we start with a little warm-up?” You ask while lowering yourself into the pool, finding that it reaches up to just above your waist.

“Okay, Hometown,” Samantha punches the ball over the net at you, and you struggle to reach it. You’re a pretty good swimmer, but wading through the water like this isn’t something that you’re used to.

“I should probably warn you. I did go to Harvard on a basket ball scholarship,” Samantha grins at you once you’ve collected the ball, “And I have actually played this once or twice…”

“Ah, so I was ambushed!” You smack the ball away, sending it off in an arc that’s too high and too slow to make it even remotely challenging for Sam to move over and snatch it out of the air as it comes sailing downwards.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ll let you pick our next wager,” Samantha bounces the ball in her hand a few times with well-practiced ease, then sends it flying towards you. This time at least you manage to reach it, albeit just in time.

“Alright,” Smiling at the thought that Samantha seems to want to spend more time with you, you pause to stand in the water, trying to get a feel for the ball, “Any other sports that you’re extremely good at that I should know about?”

“I am a member of the NRA, so if there’s any shooting ranges nearby…” Again, Samantha flashes you a mischievous smile.

“Of course you are,” You smile back at her, and send her the ball.

“Now who’s profiling!” Samantha replies, her voice speeding up and growing louder as she actually has to work to reach the ball this time. She still catches it, but only just.

“Okay, so no guns,” you chuckle, “Anything else you’d like to warn me about?”

“Well,” Samantha’s quick to serve, and keeps talking while you leap for the ball, catching it just as you splash down into the water, then wait until you’re back on your feet, “If you don’t mind waiting till winter, we can turn this into a hockey rink and I can kick your ass at that.”

“Let me guess… Rangers fan?” You again **** Sam to move quickly after the ball, and this time around it’s her turn to get her hair wet as she plunges face-first into the water, but manage to just get her hands round it before it touches down. The sight of her red hair plastered to her head and her whole body dripping wet makes you quietly lament once more the fact that you’re political opponents.

“Ugh, no reason to get insulting!” Samantha regains her footing and the ball’s soon coming your way yet again, though you manage to catch it. You should probably remember to thank your dad for forcing you to try out baseball back in High School.

“I’m a Detroit Red Wings fan actually,” Samantha announces, again making you have to wait with your response by sending the ball flying low over the net, forcing you to throw yourself heedlessly into the water to catch it, “Mr Islanders fan.”

“How’d you know?” You ask while dragging your free hand through your now soaked hair.

“Loveable losers that haven’t accomplished anything in more than 30 years?” Samantha cocks an eyebrow and places one hand on her side, just below her chest, “It just seemed like the perfect Democrat team…”

“While you root for the American team that couldn't get anywhere for forty years until a bunch of Swedes and Russians saved them, Red,” Finally coming up with a nickname of your own for Sam, even if it’s a pretty obvious one, you return fire with a light-hearted verbal jab of your own, and send the ball flying. It’s your best hit yet, and you’ve sent it left, forcing Sam to throw herself after it but missing it completely as it bounces off the side of the pool and changes direction, landing in the water while she splashes into it several yards away.

“Now, what do you say we get the game started?” While Sam’s busy blowing water out of her nose, you can’t help but allow yourself to sound just a little bit smug.