Author's note: This was written before season 5 began, so obviously Zoey's rescue is not what S5 would have us believe. This is what really happened, or should have, IMHO…

When her mind cleared she thought she had a nightmare, at first. Than she looked around, at the unfamiliar surroundings, and the man at the table, and her mouth went dry. This was real. It really happened…the club…The men outside the bathroom…Molly, whose lifeless eyes gazed in nightmarish slow-motion from the pavement…

She must have made a sound because the man looked up, his eyes meeting hers. He strode across the room to the couch on which Zoey was lying, and she shrunk back.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

Zoey would have laughed out loud if she wasn't so terrified. "You kidnapped me, you killed one of my agents…"

"I didn't. I'm just the baby-sitter, to them. And I won't hurt you."

Zoey looked up at him. He was athletically built, bearded, and he had kind eyes. She couldn't say why, but she believed him.

"Who took me?"

"Qumari-funded terrorists."

"Why?"

"For a number of reasons, having to do with your father."

"No kidding. Who are you?"
"I told you, I'm the baby-sitter. No offense meant."

"Well, offense taken. Who are you?"

He looked at her for a long time, as if debating with himself. Than he shook his head and said softly, "I'm not who they think I am. Let's leave it at that, for now."

"And you're not going to hurt me?"

"No ma'am."

"Well, you're polite. That's very un-terrorist like."

"Are you hungry?"

She thought again about the club, and Jean-Paul, drugging her. The man must have been a mind-reader, because he said, "When I promised not to hurt you that included spiking your food and drink. And speaking of which, I would re-evaluate my relationship with the French royalty, if I were you."

She actually laughed, albeit humorlessly. "Yeah, I kinda figured that out myself."

"Well, at least that good education wasn't completely wasted on you."

"See, and I was just starting to like you!"

He sighed. "Story of my life. Are you hungry?"

She shook her head.

He brought her a glass of water and a blanket. She fell asleep, and woke up crying. He sat down next to her and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You're safe for now. Just relax."

"My parents…and Charlie…" She started crying again. He waited for her to calm down, and said softly, "I really wish there was a way to spare them…I really do. This will be over soon." As she looked up, a look of absolute terror on her face, he hastened to add, "Not the way you think. Didn't I promise not to hurt you?"

"But they'll come back for me, if you're just the baby-sitter," she whispered.

"Not if…let's take it one step at a time. You should try to rest some more. That was a powerful punch in your drink at the club."

"It wasn't X, was it?"

"No, though your…boyfriend…thought that's all it was. The dealer was paid quite a bit to give him something else."

"The dealer must be happy."

"The dealer is dead. Do you think they'll leave a trail this obvious?"

"How would I know what terrorists think like?"

"Good point."

"Do you know anything about my parents…or Charlie?"

"I know the President transferred power to the Speaker of the House. I'm sorry, that's all I know."

Zoey closed her eyes. Walken is Acting President? Could there be anyone her father despised more? Well, probably those who took her, she thought, and understood why her dad had to invoke the 25th.

"He transferred power voluntarily, right? It wasn't his MS or anything?"

"No ma'am. He is in complete control of his mind and body, as evidenced by the fact that he did transfer power to the Speaker."

"Don't call me ma'am."

He smiled a smile rife with sadness. "Yeah, I heard that line before."

He had some good books in the apartment and managed to put her at ease enough so that she tried to read. He got a phone-call at one point, and spoke animatedly in what sounded like Arabic for quite a while. He hung up and disappeared into the next room. She tried to tiptoe to the door to see what he was doing, but he came out with a cell phone to his ear, and gave her look that sent her back to the couch in a hurry. How he heard her was a mystery, but she wasn't going to try that again. She would have tried the door to the apartment, to see if she could just run out, but she figured he would have thought about it already, and besides, she probably WAS safer with him at the moment.

"Do you have a name?"

He was looking out the window, and turned around when she asked the question. "What? I mean…excuse me?"

"Do you have a name?"

"Doesn't everyone?"

She sighed. "Are you always this annoying?"

"Sometimes I'm worse."

"Wow."

"Yeah." He almost smiled.

"So what's you're name?"

There was a loud knock on the door and Zoey felt her mouth go dry again. Fear coursed through her as he walked to open the door. Stopping, he turned around and smiled softly. "Relax, these are the good guys. You're safe now." He opened the door to admit Ron Buterfield and that FBI agent that always flirted with the West Wing assistants. Agent Casper? Zoey couldn't remember his name, and was too stunned to pursue the thought. The hallway outside the apartment looked like a military zone, filled with Marines, police officers, and loads of black suits. No kidding -- she really was safe now.

"Miss Bartlet? Are you OK?" Ron was looking her over, relief written all over his face. He also looked ten years older. Zoey wondered what her parents looked like. She nodded and said, "This man…he was helping me. Don't hurt him!"

She turned around to her baby-sitter. "I still don't know your name…" she was saying, but the words stuck in her mouth.

He was taking off his beard, and the black wig that covered his silver hair. He looked completely different now, and he smiled gently at Zoey, appreciating her attempt to protect him. "Special Agent Simon Donovan, US Secret Service."