Disclaimer: Characters aren't mine, story is. No copyright infringement is intended.

Spoilers: Probably War Games, although since this is a x-over it's def. AU. Also, this was written before I watched "Bartlett for Amercia" so I'm kinda harsh on Calley.


Prologue


She sat in the car and took a deep breath. She couldn't believe she was sitting here like this. That she was even here. Hell, she couldn't believe she had done what she did. But she hadn't been thinking. One didn't call it a dairy any more. The word 'No.' just came out of her mouth. And then she saw it. The glint in his eyes. She knew he had set her up and now. . . Exhaling loudly she hit the steering wheel of her car before she lowered her head to it, fighting back tears.

She had to find away out of this mess and she just couldn't go to Josh.

Well, she could but she didn't want to.

She couldn't admit to him what a screw up she could be. He was mad enough about her dating a Republican. Then there was the fact that he had been on Ways and Means. Then Oversight. . .

G-d she wasn't that stupid.

Wasn't that naive.

She thought that it wouldn't be conflict. Anisley had set the date up for pete's sake and she was one of the White House Counsels. She was supposed to be one of the good guys.
Apparently that was wrong.
She could see that now.

Just like she could see that the comment about people talking was a part in the setup.

She wanted to believe that Ansleiy wouldn't have. . .but, she wasn't that naive.
She wasn't that stupid.
Not anymore.

Shaking her head, she wiped at the tears that were still threatening to fall and pushed opened her car door.
There was only one other person she could turn to right now.
If there was one person who could be as devious as Josh--- who could find a way out of this mess for her--- it was him.

She had been introduced to him at a party she had gotten roped into going to by her roommate. It was when her relationship with "Gunny" was starting to come to an end and she just couldn't go to the party he had invited her to, so why couldn't Donna? He was a nice enough guy after all. . . And sap that she was, she had. After all, she had thought at the time, Gunny was a nice guy. Still was. But the party. . . she hadn't felt all that comfortable. Until she had gotten into it with him. He had been arguing with one of Gunny's superiors about a bill that was on the floor and she had to say something, especially since both had bad arguments for their stances. Of course he hadn't been amused. Thought she was some over eager college student, and passed some snide remark about where she got her facts. When she shot back an equally snide retort Gunny had stepped in and introduced them, and while it didn't immediately change either's opinion of the other, the time they spent talking in a corner that night had. Turns out neither of them really belonged there.

They became friends that night.

Some nights they were more.

He was the person she could go to when she couldn't go to Josh. He was the one who kept her sane after Roslyn. Who she had turned to last December in tears after taking Josh home from the hospital, even if she had never exactly told him what had happened, and he hadn't asked for more details than she was willing to tell, just like she never asked him for more than he was willing to tell when he showed up from time to time with haunted eyes.

Shaking away her rambling thoughts she knocked on the door to his apartment and waited. After a moment she started to turn away, but was stopped when he opened the door. "Donna, what are you doing here?" he asked as he shrugged into his black cashmere trench coat.

As she caught his actions she sighed, "I shouldn't have come. . ."

"What's going on?" he asked as he took in her expression.

"You're on your way out."

"It can wait. You apparently can't. Now, come on in and tell me what happened," he said stepping aside, watching as she shakily did what he asked. "Is it Lyman or your deposition."

"How. . .?"

"I'm the Special Assistant to the Undersecretary of State, remember?" he asked as he closed the door and helped her off with her coat, before shedding his own. "I'm paid to know things like when you're testifying," he added as he hung the coats up and watched her walk across the room.

"Clay, I screwed up," Donna said with a shake of her head as she collapsed onto the nearby couch and lowered her head to her hands.

"It can't be that bad," he replied as he moved to sit next to her.

"I lied."

"You what?" he asked surprised.

"I lied. I mean. . . I didn't mean to. It just came out. . ." she shook her head in despair.

"What did you lie about?"

"My journal."

"Your journal? Donna, that's not the end of the world here. There's no way that they can even know that you have one. . ."

"Actually. There is," she said as she rose and started to pace, needing to move to think. "I was seeing this guy. He's with Oversight. . ."

"You went out with a one of the men investigating you? That doesn't sound like you. You're not that. . ." he stopped abruptly.

"Stupid?" she asked on a laugh. "Yeah, I know. Ansiey set us up, when he was just Ways and Means. I thought it might have been a conflict, but. . . I convinced myself that it wasn't. I mean she wouldn't do that to me! Wouldn't do that to the White House. She's one of the counsels. . ." she shook her head as she looked at her hands uncomfortably. "When he said he was with Oversight. . .We put the breaks on. . .it's just. . . He came by one night. I was half asleep. . .half drunk. . ."

"Did you sleep with him?"

"Yeah," she sighed her embarrassment palpable.

"Damn," Clay sighed as he stood and shook his head. "That's how he knows about the Journal?"

"He must have gone through my nightstand when I was in the bathroom."

"They asked you point blank if you had one?"

"They asked if I had a dairy."

"Semantics. Might play off of it somehow. . ." he said as he ran a hand through his hair. "Do you think it was innocent?"

Donna laughed brittlely, "I don't know. But I'm starting to think it was a setup."

"It probably was."

"What am I going to do? Do I go and tell them I didn't realize what they meant?"

"No. No. I have an idea. A couple actually. The um. . . the journal, was it a special one?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, if we went to a bookstore would you be able to find one that looks exactly like it?"

"I. . . I guess. Why?"

"You don't keep a diary. You don't keep a journal. You keep a notebook."

"What?"

"And that night was a mistake."

"Clay. . ."

"Listen to me. You were waiting for someone else. He took advantage of you that night. You were half-asleep. Had had a few drinks to unwind after work. . ."

"But I wasn't. . ."

"You were expecting me," Clay insisted in a quiet voice as he watched confusion cross her face.

"Clay, you want me to compound things by lying even more? I can't do that."

"Donna, do you want my help?"

"Yes, but. . ."

"Then you're going to do what I say. Now, I'm taking you home, you're getting changed, and you're coming with me to a party at the Stetsons."

"What? Clay, I'm not following you at all. . ."

"We're going to make it look like we're dating," he said as he crossed the room to get their coats, a slight smile playing across his lips as he turned and caught her reaction. "You were expecting me that night."

"Then how do I explain going out with Cliff to begin with?"

"We'll discuss it in the car."

"Do you really think it will work?" asked unsure as he put her coat around her shoulders.

"I don't know, but it's the only way. . . It will come down to your word against his in the end. You play this with the right amount of remorse and naivete and it will work," he sighed as he tightened a hand over her shoulder and turned her towards him. "Chin up kid. It can't make things worse, now can it?"