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Donna tapped on the door as she slipped into the room. It was dark save the flickering the light from the large television. �Hey,� the blonde whispered as she crept over to the couch where Zoey had stretched out. Meredith was sitting on the floor with a bowl of popcorn in her lap. �How�s it going?� she asked, her voice soft enough to avoid interrupting the movie.
�Good,� Zoey smiled. �Sam�s got a pretty cool niece here.�
�Yeah, he does,� Donna grinned. �Can I talk to you for a second?� she asked, motioning toward the door.
Zoey nodded and got up, following Donna into the hall and pulling the door closed so that Meredith wouldn�t hear what she had to say. �What�s up?� Zoey asked.
�This thing� the thing that�s going on,� Donna said, unsure of how much the President would want his youngest daughter to know, �is going to last all night, maybe longer. I don�t know if she has any pyjamas or anything in her backpack.�
�I�ll check. If she doesn�t I�m sure there�s something around here she can wear. A big tee shirt or something,� Zoey said. She looked down at her hands. �What�s going on, Donna? Why has the Secret Service presence doubled in the last two hours?�
�I� I can�t tell you that. Not because of anything� I just� it should be your parents who tell you what�s going on,� Donna hedged.
�Donna, just tell me,� Zoey pled.
Sighing heavily, Donna rubbed her hands over her face. �I�m sorry, Zoey. I can�t. It�s not my place,� Donna apologized.
�Okay,� Zoey said, knowing she wasn�t going to get any information out of Donna if she wasn�t willing to share. �If he has a free minute Sam should come up and say goodnight.�
�I�ll try to catch him,� Donna nodded. �What are you watching?� she asked when she heard Meredith let out a long, loud, giggling laugh.
Zoey shrugged. �One of dad�s old comedies. She probably doesn�t get half the jokes, but there�s a lot of physical comedy and she seems to be enjoying it.�