NOTES: This story came into my head after rewatching the episode with Amy's dad in the hospital. With everything we know about Amy and Dan and the way they react to each other, why wouldn't Dan have thrown her family's words in Amy's face and mocked her broken heart? As I continued through the episodes, it became clear that Dan is much more attached to Amy, using a lot of "we" language. So this (significantly AU, but incorporating a lot of canon) backstory evolved, and also got a little dark! Just as a warning: I am going to mention the stray dog in a later chapter, but I don't think it's especially graphic.

My first Veep fic, hope you enjoy!

Prologue

"You broke her heart, you know that?"

Dan didn't react outwardly, but he felt the blood drain from his face as he gritted his teeth. The room felt suddenly colder, more sterile. Amy glared at her mother, willing her to become mute.

You can't break something that doesn't exist, Dan thought to himself, his steely countenance belying the pains that had begun in his own chest. She's lying to you just like we lie to everyone else. It was my heart, my body, my past, present and future that your daughter shredded in her hands. None of you have the faintest idea…

Chapter 1

When she would walk into a room, the lights themselves seemed to shrink back in fear. Though she was only a White House Special Assistant then, the tension and confidence that weighed her down these days seemed then only to prop her up. It made her stride longer, it made her gaze sharper, it made everything about her radiate directly onto the face of one Daniel Egan, fresh-faced communications manager to a recently elected U.S. Representative.

He had first met Amy in D.C., having arranged a photo op for soon-to-be Congresswoman Hayes with the then-president. Acting far above her rank, Amy would make time to shadow anyone who let her, often before they knew she was doing it. She was never shy about shouting orders to anyone she considered beneath her – and in Amy's mind, this automatically included any political staffer who didn't work at the White House. And so it was that Amy's first word to him was…

.

.

"You!"

Dan looked around, startled by the shout. A blonde woman was hurtling herself down the corridor at him, her burgundy dress swishing around her thighs as she tapped away on her phone, glancing up only as needed to not bump into the furniture.

"Me?" he pointed to himself, uncertainly.

"No, the other hayseed who looks like a five-year-old waiting to see the principal. Where is your keeper?"

Hayseed? He glanced down briefly at his untailored suit. "My … uh, what?"

"Mrs. Hayes," she sighed, already impatient. She was still engrossed in her messages when she came to stand right near the antique chair he had found outside one of the White House private restrooms.

"Oh, she's just, uh, touching up in the bathroom before we get started," Dan said tentatively, standing to greet her. By now he was intrigued and somewhat in awe of the blonde woman, close enough that he could smell almond shampoo and light, deodorant-tempered sweat on her.

Amy's eyes flew up from her phone to land on him, and he was struck by their depth. They were hard and fiery and anxious, with just the slightest tinge of uncertainty. He thought she caught her breath for a second, but then again, that might have been him.

"Uh, my name is Dan, by the way. Dan Egan." Dan broke into a charming smile and held out his hand.

"Amy Brookheimer, Special Assistant to the Deputy Chief of Staff," she said, shaking his hand cautiously. She said the title as though it had simply always been part of her name, like an absurd hyphenate.

Judith Hayes stepped out of the bathroom then, and Amy greeted her sweetly. Dan shook his head at her metamorphosis, the pleasant tone of her voice as she made polite conversation while they walked the congresswoman-elect to meet the president. They arrived at the Kitchen Garden, where the photo was meant to be taken.

Dan hesitated suddenly, a thought churning in his mind. Turning to his boss, he said, "You know, ma'am, while you certainly deserve recognition for your work on obesity in Ohio, I think that we should take this opportunity to showcase you as an emergent national leader – make this photo more befitting of your rise to Congress. How about something in the Oval Office?"

"That's not possible," Amy cut in immediately. Her expression suggested Lincoln would roll over in his grave were this to take place. He smiled again.

"Ms. Brookheimer… or is it Mrs?" he asked politely. He knew it came off like an asshole question, but he really kind of wanted to know, and he couldn't see her hands, seeing as she had folded her arms across her chest and was shooting daggers at him with those amazing blue eyes.

"Ms.," Amy said, her voice dripping with disdain.

"Ms. Brookheimer, I'm sure you're aware that Mrs. Hayes has had wonderful things to say about the President's views on campaign finance reform throughout her campaign. Certainly, he would like to thank her properly for her support before the final bill is introduced in a few months? And a picture in the Oval could only help to improve Mrs. Hayes' influence in the House, don't you think?"

Amy stared at him for a moment. Dan held his breath, a nervous exhilaration resulting from having done his best impression of a political dick-swinger. When in D.C. ….

Amy looked back and forth between the two of them, and broke into a professional smile. "I'll check on that for you."

She walked away to find someone more senior, and Dan's body continued to buzz. What in the hell? If you broke it down, or had been paying attention at all, this woman had been awful to him. She hadn't said a single nice word or given any hint of liking him at all, and yet, he just wanted more of her. A familiar but long-buried sensation stirred inside of him.

.

.

Later on, when the Oval Office photo op had been approved, Dan and Amy stood just outside the doorway making sure all went according to plan. Amy was on her phone again, but he could see her out of his periphery shooting an occasional glance at him. He dared not attempt a conversation, lest he cause her to retreat.

Finally, she cleared her throat and spoke. "You're good at this." She sounded impressed, but nonchalantly so.

Dan beamed, lapping up the small scrap of attention he had been fed. "Thanks! You know, I have to tell you… I'm still getting used to all this D.C. politics. I've been doing it for a couple of years in Ohio and in Albany –" he heard Amy snort derisively next to him – "but this is completely different. The down and dirty sleaze is turned up to 11 here." He shook his head in disbelief.

Amy looked at him sideways, contemplating. He looked down at her. "What?"

"Meet me at Lounge 201 at 7:00," she commanded. Turning, literally, on her heel, she walked away to a shared staff office and slammed the door.