The story broke, ironically, just after CJ had put on the lid for the night. She bid the press good night, went to her office, and found photographic evidence of the story in a brown envelope on her desk. Not that she needed the newsflash particularly since in actual fact, the story wasn't really news to her at all. She was more than familiar with it, having been living and breathing it for the previous six weeks.

That said her first reaction was one of disbelief, quickly followed denial, then full blown panic. She scoured the envelope itself for some kind of clue to identity of the sender, and then, not finding one turned her attention to the internet and going in search of a definition for the word 'Treason'. She found plenty, but non that could confirm or deny whether a certain act, the act the photos pictured her in the middle of, could be considered as such. Regardless of this she suspected the answer, when it came, would not be good.

She reached for the phone but when she made to dial her fingers hovered uncertainly above the keypad. Who the hell did one call at a moment like this? She knew who she wanted to talk to, but who she wanted to talk to and who she should be talking to were too very separate things, and it didn't matter who she did ring really – the end result was going to be the same; tears and tantrums were very much going to be the order of the day. Well, tears, tantrums and the odd moment of perversity – but that was what working with boys was all about.

She glanced down the White House telephone extension list which lay on her desk beside the now discarded envelope and scattered photos, the names and numbers blurring as she realized for the first time she was crying. It wasn't the getting caught that had caused the sudden unexpected show of emotion, it was the fact that after weeks of lies and ducking and diving it was all over, and she was just starting to realize how tired she was of it all.

"CJ?"

Glad of the interruption she looked up, hoping the tears in her eyes wouldn't be too obvious to Donna, who had appeared in the doorway, and looked, CJ thought, like she'd had nearly as bad a day as she had, if that was in any way at all possible. She forced a smile, as she surreptitiously slid the photos under the telephone list, wanting to shield them from view.

"Don't want to hear it. The lid is on."

"I know the lid is on. I'm headed off. Hence my coat." Donna pointed out helpfully, "I need Martinis – Josh has driven me to distraction today. Want to join me?"

The mention of Martinis was something of a double edged sword to CJ. On one hand, any form of alcohol would have been beneficial at that moment, but on the other hand, with Martinis came memories, and it really, really wasn't the right moment for them. Plus, much as she'd have liked to have joined Donna, it wasn't exactly an option.

"I'd love to." She said, lowering herself into her chair, "But I can't. I have to talk to," she floundered, glancing at the telephone list again, "someone. About a thing."

"A thing?"

She nodded, "A thing. A big thing." She took a deep breath, "Donna, if you'd made an error, a grave error, who would you tell?"

"I'd tell Josh." The Assistant replied, in a way that made her seem incredibly sweet and endearing to CJ, until she followed it up with, "What kind of grave error? A 'the President is glad to be focusing on something that really matters' error." For one, she didn't appreciate the reminder of her earlier mistake, and two, she didn't appreciate the fact that it only served to highlight what trouble she was in. That had been a mere molehill compared to the mountain she was currently facing.

She sighed, "Just a grave error. Lets leave it at that shall we?"

Donna smiled genially, "Ok. Good luck with that. See you tomorrow."

It was an optimistic salutation CJ suspected. There was every chance she wasn't going to be there tomorrow.

xxx

She ended up outside Leo's door. She could have gone to Toby, but somehow it felt better to get to 'the top' in one fowl swoop.

Well, almost to 'the top'. The actual top was not somewhere she was yet ready to go.

Margaret was, as ever, in residence, but like all good Assistants she knew from one look at CJ's face that now wasn't the time to be barring the door and quickly ushered her inside to where Leo was waiting.

He knew her face too. Knew instantly that she wasn't bearing good news. Looked at her questioningly, "CJ?"

There was an easy way out, she knew that. She could just take the envelope in her hands, and give it to him. Let him see for himself the mess she'd got herself into. But she couldn't do it. She owed it to him to tell him herself.

"Well here's the thing." She laughed then, giggled nervously – a gallows giggle she thought it was called, an uncontrollable urge to laugh at just the wrong moment, because you couldn't believe that life could be so wrong, "You know how I do The Jackal?"

The confusion on his face was clear, and she found herself inwardly pleading with him to go with her. To listen to what she had to say, no matter how ridiculous it sounded.

To her relief, he nodded, and gestured for her to continue.

"Well now, now I do The Jackal for fun, because it entertains you guys, but when I first did it, I was drunk." She paused, momentarily remembering the first time she'd done her now favourite party piece. The levels of heady adoration she felt from her 'audience', fast followed by the utter humiliation she felt the next morning when she woke up under a conference table at the PR firm she was working for at that time and remembered what she'd done in the middle of the office party, in front of a multitude of important clients. "I was drunk, and so I did something stupid. That's what I do when I'm drunk." She didn't pause to ask Leo if he knew what that was like. She knew he did. "I do stupid things."

Leo looked at her for a long time, as if bracing himself for what was to come – as if he could – and then, sounding a little like a tired parent at the end of his tether, he asked the question she really didn't want to hear.

"What did you do CJ?"

She took a deep breath, opened her mouth, and bottled it, handing him the envelope without another word.

xxx