Chapter Text
When he comes to work for Selina Meyer, Dan realizes that he knows – that he remembers – far more about Amy Brookheimer than he should. He has prided himself on being able to move on from his…he hesitates to call them relationships, but no other word quite fits, with maximum efficiency. But he remembers Amy.
Like, the fact that sometimes she sings to herself while she’s driving. (It’s cute.) (It’s also awful).
Like, the fact that when she’s relaxed, when she’s not watching herself, she’ll cover her mouth with one hand while she eats.
Like, the fact that Amy is a goddamn lightweight and always has been. Dan doesn’t know if it’s her size, or some strange blood chemistry, but he has never known Amy to make it to a third glass of wine without becoming at least slightly unsteady on her feet.
He’d quickly realized that her lightweight tendencies had only increased since Selina became Veep – with no time to socialise, she’d probably gotten out of practice (not that her stamina had ever been that impressive to begin with). Dan had filed it away for future use in his first week on the job – and then not used it.
He didn’t know why.
He had no particular scruple about embarrassing Amy – if nothing else, she’s tougher than she used to be, and he doubts there’s anything he could throw at her that she couldn’t spit back tenfold (it’s kind of hot). But other than the occasional barbed comment, he’d mostly left it alone.
But he thought about it.
Not all the time. (In fact, not much at all). But idle moments – between take-off and landing, waiting in line for coffee, walking to the car park – can and do occur, and his is not a brain that ever stops ticking over, considering the variables, assessing the people around him.
Amy’s different than she was – back when he first knew her – different, but somehow... more herself. Before she’d been polite – couched her opinions in conciliatory language – but she’ll now happily tell him, Congressman Furlong, and even the Speaker exactly how and when they can go to hell. There’d been a residual girlishness in her then – a willingness to seem only soft and pretty – she’d flushed at compliments, and plainly wasn’t sure what to say, but now she dismissed them as so much meaningless fluff.
(Dan’s sure at least part of this change is because of him). The first time he’d pulled her into his arms, she’d been soft and pliant immediately – he could have done what he wanted with her (and did). (He doesn’t feel bad about it – he never does – not when a good time is had by all). He suspects he’d have to work a lot harder now (not that he’d mind).
Dan could have tried to get her fired that first year – it’s not like there weren’t opportunities – but for some reason, he hadn’t. Partly, it was practical. The thought of running Selina’s office with only Mike to help – well obviously that would be fine, Dan’s more than good enough to make up for Amy’s absence, obviously – but it would be more work. And Selina trusts Amy in a bone-deep way that Dan can’t replicate – a fact that frustrates him, but which can also be useful… if he can (and he usually does) get Amy on-side, success is virtually guaranteed. (Not that it wasn’t before).
And Dan likes her.
In a distant, impersonal way that would never have any impact on his actions, Dan likes Amy a lot. She’s sharp, she’s funny, she’s never boring, and he… he likes to look at her. Setting aside the fact that she’s a knock-out, (he’s not blind), he loves to watch the play of expression on her face. (Amy should never play poker) (unless she plays against him, and that’s an idea he’s going to pursue one day). In more contemplative moods (they happen, maybe once every three months), he wonders how she does it – her face is so small, (one of his hands can almost cover it), and yet it expresses such concentrated personality, such a full and forceful…Amyness.
But mostly, he doesn’t think about it. He entertains himself, toying with her dismissive coolness, tugging at her façade until it descends into to full-throated anger. It’s always a pleasure to watch – her cheeks flush and her eyes sparkle and sometimes, when she’s really riled, her chest will heave with indignation. (Amy knows he enjoys it). (That’s why, when she’s collected herself, she always looks disgusted with him).
So it continues – until he meets her family (again).
Amy has this way of…retreating even while she’s fighting you. She’ll square her shoulders and look at you straight on and not move an inch – and yet she’ll feel distant, as though she’s shrinking away, huddling protectively inside herself.
It’s all wrong. Dan likes her best – Dan enjoys her most – when she’s curling her lip, ready to destroy someone (usually Jonah, often Mike, sometimes him) for their incompetence – and it’s only when he sees her with her family (he doesn’t know how people so conventional produced Amy) that he realises he’s seen that determined…absence of expression before. The day he dumped her.
“You broke her heart.”
Some part of him would certainly like to think so – correction, some part of him had thought so, had boasted about it, made jokes about it – but really, it seemed too unlikely. Amy – hard-headed, competent Amy – couldn’t possibly have been that foolish. (Though it would be nice to think so). At least, that’s what Dan tells himself, and if Amy seems to steel herself when he approaches her by the vending machines (and sets her free from her awful family), well, it’s just because he’s a shit, that’s all.
He’s unsettled by it.
So, Dan does what he always does with things that unsettle him – he ignores it. Amy is smart and tough and a smooth operator, but she’s not that smooth – if she were pining over him, Dan would know it. (And use it for his own benefit).
But she doesn’t seem to be pining over anyone – she works, she strategizes – he never hears of her dating (but she’s a modern woman) (with a right hand, and a left, so…) – and it’s not until the Vic Allen dinner that he catches a glimpse as to why.
The song had gone down well (better than they had any right to expect), and Selina bought them a round of drinks to celebrate. You couldn’t turn down a drink from the Veep, and so, predictably, Amy was tipsy. (Fortunately – or not, really, if he wanted to undermine her – Selina didn’t notice).
Sue had, however, and was using the opportunity to point Amy in the direction of ‘politics nerds.’ (Sue, who usually maintained a lofty distance from all of them, actually seemed to care about Amy’s dating life. It was weird).
Dan overheard the argument – mostly because he was bored (and also, monitoring who Kent Davison was speaking to – after a concentrated dose of Jonah, he was sure Kent would be impressed with him). Amy’s gestures were slightly less controlled than usual, and her voice was beginning to hit a familiar pitch of annoyance so, naturally, Dan joined in.
“Let him buy you a drink,” Sue was saying. “You probably need another.”
“No. No, I do not,” Amy growled out. (Avoiding Dan’s eyes).
“Who wants to buy you a drink?” Dan asked, if only to hear her huff of irritation.
“No one, Dan, it doesn’t –”
“Him,” Sue said, pointing at a tall, Aryan looking man. “He’s handsome, he’s clean, what’s the problem?”
“Yeah Amy, what’s the problem? Does he not meet your punishingly high standards?”
“I’m not talking about this with you.”
“Well now I really want to know,” Dan said, staring at her.
“And what Dan thinks couldn’t be less important anyway, so explain why.”
They both stared her down (though Dan could have done without the insult), and Amy’s shoulders eventually slumped in acceptance of her fate. “Look,” she said, looking mostly at Sue, looking not at all at Dan, “I don’t want him to buy me a drink, because…he works for Congressman Lehman, and all he wants is to see if I can convince the Majority Whip to –”
“Back the Lehman amendment to the Financial Trades Bill. That’s smart – everyone knows the Majority Whip loves you.”
Amy did not look remotely thankful for his intervention. “Yeah. And Sue, every one of these assholes is the same. I’m not even sure I want to date at all, but I definitely don’t want to date some DC guy, I want it to be someone who actually – it doesn’t matter. But this is not the place.”
Sue nodded, seeming to understand, and Dan said (he couldn't help himself), “Well, if you’re looking for someone who genuinely wants you for your body…” he trails off, and Amy looks at him – clearly certain he’s going to say something awful, but not sure which kind of awful. “Jonah’s right over there.”
She shuddered. “And now I’m going home. You are exhibit one in why DC guys are toxic, you know that?”
“Yeah,” Dan said, feeling oddly proud. (He’s going to make her blush) “But the thing that makes me different from all those guys, Amy, is that you actually dated me. And you liked it.”
“Well you were in camouflage as a human being at the time,” she shot back. “Fortunately your true self shone through eventually. I call that a lucky escape.”
Sue stared at him, and he wanted to glare back (he’s not scared of her) (he’s intimidated, sure, but not scared). “Want me to walk you out, Amy?" she said (still glaring at him) (as though she’s warding him off, which, come on).
“Yeah, protect me from Jonah.”
“Are you seriously afraid of the Giant from the Spunk Lagoon?” Dan asked. (There’s no way she is). (Right?)
“If he hits on me one more time, I will climb up on his freakish back like a spider-monkey and garrotte him with his own stupid, tasteless tie,” Amy said (drunk enough to sound serious).
“He’d probably enjoy it.”
“Could you just…restrain your natural greasiness for like…a minute? Have you any idea how exhausting it is to deal with assholes like that all the time, day in day out? Wait, why would you, you are one of them.” Amy actually looked almost sad (so, still mostly angry) (but it’s there).
“Drink some water,” Dan said, "or you’ll be a monster on the plane.” Amy rolled her eyes, and as she put her jacket on, Dan muttered to Sue, “Make her text you when she gets home.”
“Yeah,” Sue said, looking affronted. “Because I’m the one who needs to be told how to look out for her.”
He had no response to that, and he watched them leave before zeroing in on Kent Davison (he is going to be impressed with Dan, finally and at long last impressed.)