Title: On Studio B, a Cricket Bat, and a Kiss
Authors: Macha and Marguerite
Summary: "All I know for sure is that Casey did an incredibly
ungraceful maneuver with a cricket bat and he ended up pushing
Dana down on the desk as if to have his wicked way with her."
Written for Angstville as a "Fan The Vote" challenge fic.


***

ON STUDIO B, A CRICKET BAT, AND A KISS


***


"A croquet mallet?" Isaac thundered.

Jeremy studied the carpet in Isaac's office with far more interest than it
strictly deserved.  The atmosphere here at Sports Night was genial and casual,
but Isaac did not put up with unprofessional behavior.

Probably an anchor and a producer making time in Studio B counted as
unprofessional

Since Jeremy was neither the anchor nor the producer in question -- was, in
fact, neither an anchor nor a producer, period -- he hoped that keeping his head
down would prove an effective strategy.  Because Isaac, quite frankly, scared
the hell out of Jeremy when he was like this.

Isaac let the silence build, resting the weight of his gaze on Danny first, then
on Jeremy, who shoved his hands into his pockets and tried his best not to
squirm.  When he felt Isaac's attention shift away, he chanced a glance at Dana
and Casey, who were standing as far apart as possible, turned slightly away from
each other.  Not once since they'd entered his office had they so much as looked
at each other.

Isaac's anger resonated in his voice.  "A croquet mallet?"

Casey sounded like a chastened little boy when he answered, "It's not what you
think."

Jeremy looked up, giving Casey a startled glance.  "It's not?"  Because Jeremy
was pretty sure that it was.

"Jeremy," Dana snapped, still studying the clipboard clenched in her hands with
some intensity.  Unlike Casey, who was flushed bright red, Dana's face seemed
drained of all color, her lips pressed tightly together.

"Well, it *is* what Isaac thinks," Jeremy pointed out, eminently reasonable.

Dana aimed a glare in his direction, but didn't quite meet his eyes.  One
trembling hand reached up and pushed a lock of hair out of her face.

"A croquet mallet?" Isaac said again.

"Actually," Danny began, rubbing his hands together in glee. He was the only
person in the room who *wasn't* uncomfortable.  In fact, he seemed to be
enjoying the hell out of himself, no longer even bothering to repress his smirk.
 Jeremy wished sometimes that he possessed even a fraction of Dan's easy
confidence.

"Dan," Casey groaned.  He was starting to fidget, shifting his weight as he
tried to avoid Isaac's glare.

Danny ignored him.  "It was a cricket bat," he assured Isaac.

"It really wasn't," Jeremy countered.  Because he hadn't seen very much and he
was pretty happy about that, but what he *did* know was that Casey hadn't been
holding a cricket bat.

Casey's cheeks glowed a brighter shade of red.

"A cricket bat it was, my young friend," Danny tossed back, no doubt reveling in
the opportunity to argue sports and irritate Casey all at the same time.  He was
practically bouncing on his toes in delight.

Dana squeezed her eyes shut tight.  "This isn't happening." She held the
clipboard tightly against her chest, as if it were a shield.

Jeremy turned to Danny.  "Have you ever *seen* a cricket bat, Dan?"

Danny positively beamed at Jeremy for providing the opening. "Why, yes, Jeremy,
I have.  In fact, I believe Casey here--"  Danny slapped his partner on the
back-- "had a cricket bat clutched--"

"It wasn't a cricket bat," Casey muttered.

"It wasn't a croquet mallet, either," Jeremy interjected, giving Casey an
exasperated look.

"I don't particularly care *what* piece of sports equipment it was," Isaac
stated.  "I *do* care that two of my senior staff members were--"

"Please, Isaac," Dana interrupted, speaking in short, staccato syllables, her
voice low and a little bit unsteady, "can we just pretend this never happened?"

Jeremy lost interest in his argument with Danny, because he'd seen Dana upset a
lot -- a *lot* -- but she'd always grown loud and argumentative and explosive.
This quiet, tense desperation was starting to worry him.

Oblivious to Dana's distress, Casey nodded vigorously, his carefully styled hair
bouncing along a half-second behind. "Yes, and we promise it'll never happen
again."

Jeremy knew before Casey finished speaking that he'd chosen precisely the wrong
thing to say.  Dana's spine straightened and she met Isaac's gaze for the first
time with a proud tilt to her chin.  "Yes," she echoed, and the worrisome white
cast to her skin drowned in a flood of color.  Dana was blushing nearly as much
as Casey now, but her voice was laced with anger when she spoke.  "We can really
promise you that."

Casey nodded some more and held up one hand as if he were being sworn in.
"Scout's honor."  He didn't seem to notice the rigidity of Dana's posture, or
the cutting glances she kept tossing his way.

Danny groaned in frustration.  "Dana, don't listen to Casey--"

"Hey!" Casey protested, looking honestly puzzled.

"It's fine," Dana snapped, not looking at anyone in the room but Isaac.  "Are we
done?"

Isaac's anger had dissipated, and his expression betrayed some of his concern as
he watched Dana.  "Dana."  Jeremy recognized Isaac's tone of voice -- it was an
invitation for her to say more, for her to talk to him privately, whatever she
needed.

Dana's tense expression softened for just a moment. "Thanks, Isaac, but we have
a rundown meeting in--"  She checked her watch-- "twenty-seven minutes."

Jeremy glanced over at Casey, wondering if the exchange had clued him in, but
Casey just looked puzzled.

Dana steadfastly avoided his gaze as she turned to leave. "Twenty-seven
minutes," she repeated, and she almost sounded as authoritative as normal.

Casey watched her leave, his brow furrowed.  "She's acting weird."  After a
moment, he shrugged and caught Danny's gaze.  "I've got to finish Sox-Yankees."

"I'll be there in a few," Dan answered, shaking his head slowly as Casey nodded
his goodbyes and followed Dana out of the room.

Jeremy hesitated, unsure if he should stay or go.  Isaac hadn't quite gotten
around to punishing any of them -- not that Danny or Jeremy had actually done
anything wrong. Clearing his throat, Jeremy hooked a thumb at the door. "Should
I--?"

"This is not going to be good," Danny interrupted, arms crossed, expression
pensive.  "No, this is not going to be good at all."

"We're not having this conversation," Isaac declared, gesturing at the door as
he rounded his desk and sat down. "This is a place of business, not a dating
service."  With crisp motions, he picked up his shiny black pen and twisted it,
turning his attention to the open files before him.

"So no support from on high, then," Dan surmised with a half-grin.  He turned to
Jeremy, who threw his hands up and started to shake his head.

"Oh, no," Jeremy said, actually taking a step backwards.

"C'mon, Jeremy.  Let's talk as men do."

"I think you mean talk as women do," Jeremy protested. "You've got that look.  I
recognize that look.  You know how I recognize that look?"

"Jeremy," Dan sighed, slinging an arm around Jeremy's shoulders to usher him out
of Isaac's office.

"Natalie gets that exact same look just before launching one of her doomed
schemes to prove to Dana that Casey loves her, or vice versa," Jeremy observed
mournfully.  He had a feeling nothing he could say would stop Dan from doing
something stupid.

"Ah," Dan said with a knowing look, "but they're doing half the work for us,
this time."

"This," Jeremy decided with a sigh, "is not going to be good at all."

***

One week later, Dan casually mentioned that Casey and Dana might or might not
have been caught in flagranté with a cricket bat.

"A cricket bat?"

Dan lay on the sofa, twisting his neck so he could get a better look at Abby's
eyes.  "I know.  It was, without a doubt, the most ridiculous thing I ever saw."

"So who was standing there?  You, Isaac, and Jeremy?"

"Along with Casey and Dana, yes."  He grinned at the memory. "Both of whom
turned colors I had only read about in books."

Abby waved one hand in front of her face.  "I can imagine." She leaned forward
with both elbows on her desk.  "I assume you were all laughing pretty hard."

Had they been, at first?  He remembered Jeremy's snicker and the controlled tone
in Isaac's voice that meant he was holding back his mirth with considerable
difficulty.  "We were laughing inside.  Jeremy didn't do a very good job, but
Isaac and I were completely cool and collected."

"Yeah.  That's why you have that little spot on your lip." She pointed to his
face.  "C'mon, Dan, you bit down so hard you actually cut yourself."

Dan ran his tongue around the sore place.  The sting felt good.  "All right, I
might have chuckled inanely for a few moments.  But the fact remains that there
was Dana, there was Casey, and there was a cricket bat, all in Studio B."

"And that's when it happened?"

Dan felt a slow smile spread across his face.  "That, as you say, is when it
happened."  He loved teasing a story, especially to Abby, who always smiled at
whatever yarn he was spinning.

"Dan!"  She pounded her fists on the desk.  "Are you going to tell me what they
were doing, or do I need to start charging you double when you piss me off?"

"Truth be told, I don't know exactly what they were doing. From the looks on
their faces, I would imagine it was going to be a lot more fun in Studio B than
in Studio A, but all I know for sure is that Casey did an incredibly ungraceful
maneuver with a cricket bat and he ended up pushing Dana down on the desk as if
to have his wicked way with her."

"Now I'm interested," Abby said, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.  Dan couldn't
imagine why she cared so much about Casey and/or Dana and/or their sex lives.
"So?"

"So?" Dan parroted.

Abby scowled at him.  "So did Casey finally take the step he should've taken
years ago?"

He shrugged.  "We're not completely sure.  Even so, why do you think this is all
Casey's fault?"

"I don't."

"Good."  Dan stretched out again.  "I have his back on this, always did."

"It's very noble of you."

"It's our bond."

"Your bond?"

"The indissoluble bond between Casey and myself."

"Dan, you don't get to make up words."

"For $700 a month, I get to make up whatever words I damn well please."

"It doesn't matter if you pay me $700 a month when I don't understand anything
you tell me."

She had a point.  "Okay.  The thing is, I know that Casey's wanted to be with
Dana since life began to emerge from the primordial ooze.  Up until this year,
she's been too... What's the word?"

"Spazzed?"

Dan sat up and turned toward Abby. "You graduated from *where*?"

Abby shrugged.  "Having Casey right where she wanted him and then starting the
Dating Plan wasn't, you know, spazzy behavior?"

"I'll grant you that," Dan said.  "But what I was saying is that in the past
year, ever since Quo Vadimus bought the network and gave Dana carte blanche to
do the show the best she could, she's matured a lot.  She's always had nerve and
ideas, don't get me wrong, but while Continental Corp was breathing down her
neck, she was too nervous to do much of anything well."

Dan took a moment to think with satisfaction on the way Sports Night had taken
flight since they were no longer under a corporate thumb.

Abby's voice interrupted his little reverie.  "So now that Dana's all grown up,
it was time for Casey to make his move?"

"It was, and he did."  Dan nodded his satisfaction.  "All it took was a
double-booked interview session, a trip to Studio B, and a cricket bat."

***

Natalie stopped dead in the hallway, her hand clamping down on Jeremy's arm.
His momentum carried him in a little half circle before he stopped facing her.
"Natalie--"

"He *kissed* her?" Natalie echoed, dumbfounded.

Jeremy sighed, calculating his chances of postponing the inevitable.
Considering his conversational partner and their subject matter, the odds were
very much *not* in his favor.  Still, he gave it a shot.  "It's 4:30, we've got
about an hour before taping not one, but *two* important interviews, and there
are many things we should be doing to get ready to, you know, produce the
interviews.  Do you think we could talk about this later?"

Natalie crossed her arms over her clipboard.  "No.  No, I don't think we can."

Jeremy stifled a sigh.  "Natalie--"

"Jeremy," she shot back, raising her eyebrows.  "This happened an *hour* ago and
you're just telling me now?"

With a sigh, Jeremy surrendered to his fate and steered her into the conference
room.  "I don't really know what happened," he began, holding up a hand when she
opened her mouth to protest.  "Really, Natalie, I was behind Dan.  All I saw was
Dana and Casey looking embarrassed.  Oh, and the cricket bat."  He frowned.
"Actually, I'm pretty sure it *wasn't* a cricket--"

"Jeremy."

"Yes?"

"Ask me how much I care whether it was a cricket bat."

"Fair point," Jeremy conceded.

Natalie's irritation with being out of the loop was beginning to give way to a
grin.  "They were *kissing*?"

Jeremy allowed himself a smirk.  "Looked like."

Natalie tilted her head, no doubt considering all the possible reasons Dana
hadn't stormed her office immediately to share the news.  "Did Casey do
something stupid?"

"It's *Casey*," Jeremy answered.  "Of course he did something stupid."  At
Natalie's request, Jeremy recapped the scene in Isaac's office.  He was just
getting to the part about Dan's ill-conceived plan when Natalie abruptly turned
to leave.

"I'll kill him," she muttered, storming out into the newsroom.

Hot on her heels, Jeremy ordered, "Natalie, don't--"

It was too late.  She darted into Dan and Casey's office. Jeremy was a half-step
behind her, but he didn't have a chance to warn either occupant before she
barked, "Casey!"

Casey glanced up from his monitor and gave her a smile. "Hey, Nat."  He leaned
back, tapping his pencil against the desktop.

From his seat on the couch, Dan held up a hand in greeting. "Good.  Natalie.
Listen, I'm thinking of asking Clemens--"

"A cricket bat?" Natalie demanded, marching straight up to Casey's desk, hands
on hips.

Casey's pleased expression darkened.  "Natalie, the last thing I need right now
is--"

She reached right over the desk and smacked him upside the head.  "If I'd known
all you needed was a cricket bat, I would've hit you over the head with one a
long time ago."

Dan gleefully tossed aside his pen and leaned back, hands clasped behind his
head.  Jeremy caught his gaze and shrugged.

"Can we not talk about this right now?" Casey snapped, turning his attention
back to the computer monitor. "Jeremy, how far can I push Pedro about his
brother's deal?"

Eager to return to actual work, Jeremy stepped forward.  "A question and
follow-up, but he's not going to--"

"Jeremy," Natalie interrupted, half-turning to give him an annoyed look.  "Do
you mind?"

"Natalie, seriously, we have jobs."

"Which we will be able to do much, much better once we resolve this."  With
that, she turned her attention back to Casey.

"We?" Dan echoed with a smirk.  "This is going to be great."

"Dan," Casey said.

Natalie being Natalie, she completely ignored the warning in Casey's voice.
"You kissed Dana."

Casey's expression closed off completely.  "We're not talking about this."

"Actually," Dan interjected, "we are."

"No, we *were,* but we're done now," Casey countered. "Natalie, it was a
momentary lapse of--"

"Then have another one."

Casey blinked.  "What?"

Natalie gave him an expectant look.  Jeremy was amused to note that she actually
tapped her foot impatiently.  "Go find Dana and have another lapse."

"It doesn't work like that."

Dan smirked.  "Apparently he needs a cricket bat."

"Dan," Casey snapped.

Natalie answered Dan but her impatient gaze never wavered from Casey's face.
"No, he doesn't need a cricket bat.  He needs to just *do* it.  You know why?"

Still smirking, Dan suggested, "Because Casey's shooting Nike ads in his spare
time?"  When Natalie wheeled on him, Dan held his hands up in a conciliatory
pose.

Jeremy sighed.  He already knew the answer and figured he'd speed things along.
"Because Casey's secretly in love with Dana?" he suggested flatly.

"Yes, he is," Dan agreed.  The smug grin was back.

Casey spared his partner a glare.  "No, I'm not."

"No," Natalie said, "you're not *secretly* in love with Dana, and she's not
*secretly* in love with you."  Natalie shrugged.  "We all know, Casey, but we've
been leaving it alone because, yeah, the dating plan was stupid and you both
needed to get past it."

"Natalie," Jeremy said quietly.  Because he loved her compassion, but sometimes
her attempts to help were misguided.  He placed a hand on her shoulder.

Natalie shrugged him off.  "You're over it enough to kiss her in Studio B."

"I'm over her," Casey tried, but even Jeremy rolled his eyes.

"You're not," Natalie countered.  "And she's not.  The only question is:  What
are you going to do about it?"

***

"So, what did he do about it?" Abby asked.

Dan noticed that Abby's sweater was the same shade of green as his. Not an
important detail, as details went, but it was enough to distract him from the
needling sensation that, during his therapy sessions, they should be talking
about him instead of Casey.

"Casey," Dan said after a moment's pause, "is a man of thought. A man who
believes that the human mind, in its limitless capacity to--"

"He hasn't done anything yet, has he?"

"Not as such, no."

"Why do you suppose that is?"

He honestly hadn't given the matter too much thought. "Honestly, I haven't given
the matter too much thought."

Grimacing, Abby swiveled around in her chair. "I thought we had a deal, Dan.
That I wouldn't pull and punches and you wouldn't lie to me."

"I'm not!" Palms in the air, head tilted at his most appealing angle.

She wasn't buying it.

"All right, maybe a little," Dan grumbled. "I may have given it a little
thought. And I may have offered Casey some well-meant guidance. Guidance which,
by the way, he not only didn't take but also mocked pretty hard."

Casey had actually told Isaac that Dan could fly, and would Isaac like to see
proof of the theory by Casey throwing Dan out a window?

Abby tapped the bridge of her nose with a pencil. "Has he always mocked your
advice?"

"Sometimes."

"How does that make you feel?"

"How does that make me feel? Like sometimes my advice is worth mocking."

Sure, go ahead and ask Lisa to marry you. Sure, it's a good time to have a baby
even though your marriage isn't exactly the Happiest Place On Earth. Sure, why
not follow Dana's insane Dating Plan? It won't last more than one night.

Trust me.

And just what had Casey gotten by trusting Dan? Emotional trauma from a broken
marriage, a son he seldom saw, and a woman who, though Dan loved her dearly,
needed to have her head examined by a team of miners with particularly large
pickaxes.

"Casey's bad decisions were just that - Casey's. You can't pin them on yourself,
and he sure isn't going to pin them on you either."

Dan's head snapped up. "How do you do that?"

"It's a gift."

"It's downright creepy." He curled up on the sofa and stared at the nondescript
landscape painting on the opposite wall. "Casey would never say he blamed me."

"No one held a gun to his head. You, least of all. So let's drop the 'I haven't
done right by my best friend' trip and look at the matter another way." Abby's
voice was stern, but with an undertone of genuine kindness. "Does he take
Natalie's advice?"

"Are you kidding me?" Dan twisted around to gape at Abby. "NO one takes
Natalie's advice. Not that she doesn't mean well, because she simply doesn't
have an unkind bone in her body -- unless you're Jeremy, in which case, well, a
few unkind bones -- but her vision of the world is more than just a little
bizarre. Skewed, even."

"In this particular case, do you think she's wrong? Do you think she's trying to
misdirect Casey, or undermine Dana's well-being?"

"No!" He couldn't imagine Natalie as being anything other than loving, if a bit
goofy. "She's just got this blind spot where Dana and Casey are concerned. She
couldn't quite get her point across to Casey all by herself, so she resorted to
other means."

Abby's expression was wary. "Cricket bats?"

"No." Sighing, he sat up and scrubbed his eyes with his knuckles, then turned
his wavering gaze to Abby. "She turned to someone far less subtle and far less
cunning than she."

"Oh, my God," Abby moaned, putting her head down on the desk. "She got Jeremy
involved, didn't she?"

***

"And then what?"

"Natalie."

"And then what, Jeremy?"

He sighed, trailing a half-step behind Natalie as she raced down the hallway.
"This is an incredibly bad idea."

"It is not," Natalie argued, looking a little bit miffed.

"It really is."

"She won't talk to me about it, Jeremy, and I need to make sure I'm right."

Jeremy stumbled to a halt.  "Did you--?"  He raised his eyebrows.  "You just
admitted to doubt."

"Not really," Natalie insisted, but she did have a little more nervous tension
than normal for one of her harebrained schemes involving her colleagues.

"Yes, you did," Jeremy pressed, starting to grin.

Natalie whacked him in the arm.  "I know that Casey loves Dana and I know that
Dana loves Casey.  I even know that I can convince--"

"Manipulate," Jeremy muttered.

"--Casey to apologize," Natalie continued, blithely ignoring his interruption.
"The only variable is whether Dana's ready to forgive him."

Jeremy felt like one of those cartoon characters who's just been clocked by a
frying pan.  He shook his head, just a little, but it didn't help.  "Whether
Dana's ready to forgive Casey?" he echoed dumbly.

"Yes."

"The dating plan was *her* idea!"

Natalie's eyes narrowed.  "Whose side are you on?"

"There are sides?"

"Yes, Jeremy, there are sides," she explained, exasperated.

"We're not involved in this."

"Have you not been paying attention for the past three years?"

"Not when I could avoid it, no."

"Well, there are sides, Jeremy, and we are on Dana's."

"We are?" he asked.  Because he thought maybe he had some sort of manly bond
with Dan and Casey that required being on *their* side.  Then again, Natalie
looked really enticing in his dress shirts, and maybe he could be on Dana's side
for a little while.

Before Jeremy could come to any sort of conclusion, Dana herself came wheeling
around the corner, clipboard in hand. She stopped short when she caught sight of
them and grinned. "Hey, look at that!"

"Hey, Dana," Jeremy greeted, feeling more than a little guilty that they'd been
discussing her personal life without her knowledge.

"Two producers," Dana chirped.  "That's kind of a break for me, you know why?"

"Because you need an update on the Dodgers-Indians?" Jeremy guessed.

Dana beamed at him.  "Two *smart* producers."  She looped an arm through
Natalie's and tilted her head toward the conference room.

Jeremy tried, he really did, but Natalie was surprisingly fierce for such a tiny
woman.  And he was man enough to admit that the dress shirt factored into his
decision. "Actually, Dana," Jeremy said.  "I was thinking we might have some
time in the 40s, and there's this cricket match in -- Hey, are you okay?"

Dana righted herself with one hand against the wall, managing not to fall over
entirely when she stumbled.  "I'm fine," Dana answered, but her smile was
forced.

Jeremy wordlessly retrieved her clipboard from the floor and handed it to her.
Wasn't much, as apologies go, but he couldn't do more without exposing Natalie's
idiotic plan.

"Thanks," Dana said, in a subdued tone.  She carefully straightened her shirt.
"No cricket segments until someone can explain to me how the sport is played.
Aside from the tea, I mean."

Natalie nodded solemnly.  "That's what Casey said."

Dana flinched this time, then cleared her throat.   "Good then.  I'm just
gonna..."  She walked off, absently smoothing down her hair before reaching for
the conference room door.

When Jeremy glanced over at Natalie, she was watching her friend with a vaguely
satisfied look.

"Natalie," Jeremy warned.

"Did you see that?" Natalie asked.  "She's not angry anymore.  She's jumpy.
That means she's ready for an apology."

"No," Jeremy explained patiently, "that means she's jumpy."

Natalie flashed an annoyed look.  "It means Casey should apologize now."

"Natalie--"

But she was already several steps away and moving fast.  "We have a rundown
meeting," she called over her shoulder as she headed for the conference room.

"This is a really bad idea," Jeremy muttered as he followed.

***

"And he was right," Dan said to Abby. This time they'd actually had a therapy
session first and he was just filling her in at the end. One didn't tip one's
therapist, after all, but there was nothing wrong with a recitation of
off-screen intrigue now and again. Besides, Abby lapped it up like a cat would a
bowl of cream, and Dan liked the way she looked when she prodded him for the
latest news.

"So it didn't go well."

"Got it in one, Doc." Dan, who had been putting on his jacket, stopped with one
sleeve on and one sleeve off. "Ever see one of those old vaudeville routines,
kind of like 'Who's On First,' only even more repetitive and annoying?"

She nodded, here eyes full of mirth. "Is that what you guys did?"

"If it had been scripted, it couldn't have been any more comic. I said he should
just take one for the team and apologize, and he countered by saying that 'one
does not take one for the team from an actual teammate.' So I tried suggesting
that a simple apology isn't quite the same as getting tackled by your own guy,
so what did he have to lose, only he got bogged down in an explanation about how
that can only happen in an intra-squad game. I may have kept talking at that
point, but my head was so full of excess words that nothing really registered."

"Pretty frustrating, huh?"

"Yeah!" He put his other arm in the jacket sleeve, then reached for his scarf.
"The thing is, Casey's not like me."

"Sussed that out, did you?" Abby asked brightly.

Dan shot her a dirty look. "I take responsibility for my actions."

"As well as actions for which you were not responsible."

Jesus H. Christ on a crutch, was she ever going to get off the subject of his
brother?

"Sorry," Abby added, bowing her head a little.

"Again, with the mind-reading thing. If you lived in the Middle Ages and had a
cat…" He trailed off. "What was I saying?"

"That you, unlike Casey, take responsibility for your actions."

"Thank you." He draped the scarf around the back of his neck. "When I blow a
play, I apologize to the coach."

"So you think Casey should apologize to Isaac?"

"Now you're doing it on purpose," Dan grumbled, wagging his finger at Abby.
"Although it wouldn't be outside the realm of extreme possibilities. He's either
deliberately pretending he doesn't understand why he needs to apologize to Dana,
or--"

"He's thicker than a whale omelet?"

"You've been watching the Blackadder DVD set I gave you for Christmas, haven't
you?"

Abby shrugged. "Like you've never borrowed a phrase?" She stood up, stretched a
little, and walked Dan to the door. "Which bothers you more - that Casey might
be in love with Dana but too scared to act on it, or that he might not be in
love with Dana and is deliberately sabotaging the plays?"

Dan stopped in his tracks. "You're good."

"I read a lot. And I know you, and I know what happens inside that head of yours
when Casey's happiness is at stake."

"You think I'm weird, don't you?"

"Dan, I go around hoping people will be weird. Then I hope I can make them
better. You're not as weird as you used to be, just as weird as you need to be
to work at Sports Night and actually give a damn about the people around you."
They were at the entrance to the building now, and the wind was starting to pick
up a bit. "I'm cold. Put your scarf on," Abby said.

"What are you, my mother? Besides, it's on."

"All the way on. Here." She wrapped it around his neck. "See you next week?"

"You got it." He stood in the shadow of the building, blowing onto his hands and
wondering what on earth he was going to do about Dana, Casey, and Dana and
Casey.

***

"Spot-shadow Garciaparra?" Jeremy suggested.  He wasn't, by and large, a fan of
spot-shadowing, but the footage was a little bit blurred because of the drizzle,
and Garciaparra had made quite a spectacular play in the mud.

Gnawing on the end of a pencil and paying very little attention to the editing
process, Casey replied with a noncommittal grunt.

"Was that a yes?" Jeremy asked.

"Huh?" Casey asked.  "Oh.  Sure.  Yes.  Spot-shadow Millar."

"Garciaparra," Jeremy corrected.

Casey shrugged.  "Garciaparra," he agreed.  "I don't think I should have to
apologize.  I was agreeing to *her* plan."

Jeremy blinked, taking a moment to shift from segment producer to unwilling
participant in an office-wide scheme straight out of a bad romantic comedy.
"What?"

"Dan said I should apologize."

"To whom?" Jeremy asked, even though he had a sinking feeling he knew exactly
where this conversation was headed.

"*She* suggested that we pretend it never happened," Casey explained warming to
his theme.  "I don't understand how I became the bad guy in all of this.  She
suggests that I date other people, and when I actually, you know, date other
people, it's my fault that things fall apart between Dana and me."

"No, that one was Dana's fault," Jeremy interjected. However reluctantly he
might be helping Natalie and Dan, Jeremy wasn't about to blame anyone but Dana
for that fiasco.

Casey barely noticed.  "That woman is about fourteen different kinds of crazy.
Just because I'm the sane one in our relationship -- and I mean relationship in
the traditional, non-romantic sense -- just because I'm the sane one doesn't
mean that if anything goes wrong it's automatically my fault."

"I agree," Jeremy said mildly.

That caught Casey's attention.  "You agree?"

"I do."

Casey started to smile, holding up a hand to high five Jeremy.  Jeremy didn't
really think it was much of a high five situation, but he humored Casey, who
grinned and said, "Yeah!"

"Of course, in this particular case," Jeremy continued blandly, "it was your
fault."

"Hey," Casey protested, crestfallen.  "I thought we had a bond."

"We do.  That's why I feel I can tell you that in Isaac's office, Dana was
trying to cover for you both, and you said it would never happen again."

Casey gave Jeremy a baffled look.  "Huh?"

Jeremy wondered how he always ended up involved in the insanity.  And not just
tangentially.  No, he somehow ended up right in the thick of things, trying to
explain complicated situations that had nothing to do with Red Rocket Right
Slam-42 Z-Out.  "Isaac was angry that you and Dana..." he waved a hand around in
the air, "you know, in Studio B.  Dana suggested that everyone forget it
happened."

"Including me," Casey pointed out.

"That's my point.  I don't think she meant you.  I think she meant the, uh,
non-participants."

Frowning, Casey considered that.  "She didn't say that."

Jeremy nodded.  "Because you jumped in and assured Isaac that it would never
happen again."

Casey looked a little stunned.  "But I meant--"  He stopped, mouth half-open,
and shook his head vigorously.  "No, I meant in the office.  It would never
happen again in the office."

"But that's not what you said."

Casey blinked.  "Damn."  He sat there, still as a statute, then focused an
intense gaze on Jeremy.  "Do you think Dana thought I meant it wouldn't happen
again *ever*?"

"Yes."  Jeremy, feeling his duty was complete, turned back to the Avid.  "I'll
do the spot-shadow--"

"I," Natalie announced, bursting through the door, "have a present for you."

Jeremy turned, expecting -- rather reasonably, he thought, since she was *his*
girlfriend -- that Natalie was addressing him.  Instead, Natalie careened to a
halt in front of a still-shocked Casey and beamed down at him.

"Hey, Nat," Casey greeted absently.

"Casey.  I have a present for you," Natalie repeated, waving a single sheet of
fax paper in front of him.  When she felt she had his attention, she put her
hands behind her back. "In exchange for which--"

"Wait," Casey interrupted with a frown.  "I thought it was a present?"

"It is."

"But if I have to pay for it--"

"Not pay for it.  I give you a present, and then you give me one."

Casey shrugged.  "What if I don't want to give you a present?"

"You will," Natalie insisted, and her grin was more than a little smug.

Jeremy abandoned Garciaparra mid-catch to watch the exchange.  Smug Natalie was
usually an indicator of things going incredibly right or unbelievably wrong.  He
figured the odds today were about 50-50, given the situation.

"How do you know?" Casey demanded.  "And how come you get to name your own
present?"

"Because," Natalie shot back, "you're a timid little man who won't do anything
about the Dana Situation without a push and I've got something that will make
you happy enough to throw caution to the wind."

"A fax will make me *that* happy?" Casey asked flatly.

"Absolutely," Natalie replied, eyes sparkling.

"Do I get a clue?"

"Jerry Falwell."

Casey straightened up.  "Really?"

"Yes."

"Jerry Falwell," Casey repeated the name with relish.

"Yes."

"What do I have to do in exchange?"

Natalie answered immediately, "Tell Dana you're sorry.  Now, I know you don't
think you did anything wrong, but I'm not talking about the dating plan.  I'm
talking about--"

"What I said in Isaac's office," Casey finished glumly.  "I didn't mean nothing
else would happen ever."

Natalie positively beamed at him.  "I know that and you know that, but Dana
won't know that until you tell her."

Casey wavered, indecision writ large on his face.  He glanced over at Jeremy,
who nodded and said, "You should talk to Dana."

"I'm not promising anything," Casey declared, "until I see the fax."

Natalie held it out with a flourish and Casey snatched it from her.  She crossed
her arms and watched him benevolently as he scanned the fax.  When he looked up
at her, Natalie nodded happily.  "Yup."

"What?" Jeremy demanded.

They both ignored him.  "A lawsuit?" Casey asked.

"Yup," Natalie repeated.

"What lawsuit?" Jeremy asked.  They both ignored him.

Casey leaped to his feet and grabbed Natalie, kissing her cheek.  "You're a
goddess, you know that?" he said, reaching for the door.

"Nothing says thank you like apologizing to Dana," she called after him.  "Or
jewelry."

Jeremy snickered.  "Jewelry?"

Crossing to him, Natalie dropped onto his lap and slung her arms around his
neck.  "I like jewelry."

***

Dan didn't expect Abby's next question, which was:  "What kind of jewelry did he
get her?"

He wasn't lying on the couch today.  He was sitting on the floor, leaning
against the couch with his arms folded behind his head.  It took some effort to
twist enough to look at Abby.  "What difference does that make?"

Shrugging, Abby grinned at him.  "You said Natalie brought something to Casey
that got him to ask Dana out, and that Natalie said he should get her--Natalie,
that is--jewelry. I'm curious.  What did he get her?"

Dan sat up straight.  "You know, for the enormous amount of my hard-earned money
I hand you, it wouldn't be entirely out of line for you to be curious about
other things."

"Other things?"

"Things pertaining to, you know...me."

"Ah."  Abby tapped her pencil on the desk.  "Things pertaining to you."

"Wouldn't be out of line," he reminded her.

She turned in her chair and crossed her legs.  Dan craned his neck a little
further but he could only catch a glimpse of one shapely calf before Abby
shifted again.  "Did you help him pick out the jewelry?"

"Let's clear up this little myth right this moment.  I do not now, nor shall I
ever, shop for jewelry with--or without--Casey."

"Sorry," Abby said, spreading her arms wide.  "After Natalie made Casey talk to
Dana, what happened?  Have they had sex?"

"Abby!"  He bit down on the Jolly Rancher, sending a flood of sour apple through
his mouth.  "Could we move on, please?"

"Okay.  So, what's new with you?"

"I'm just saying that maybe we can talk about something else.  Just so we're not
talking about Casey dealing with cricket bats--or any sports equipment for that
matter--or Casey buying jewelry for Natalie, or Casey having sex with Dana."  He
pawed through the candy dish, looking for something red, something sweet.  "I'm
sorry that I'm not as emotionally interesting as Casey, but I'm paying you and
he's not, so can we, for the love of God, talk about me for a change?"

All he could hear was the crinkling of the Jolly Rancher wrapper.  With a sigh,
he popped the candy into his mouth and ran his tongue over the smooth surface.
"Sorry.  That was harsh."

"Doesn't matter," Abby said mildly.  "So.  Let's talk about you."

Grimacing, he scooted up onto the sofa and turned toward Abby.  "Look, it
doesn't have to be me.  We can talk about anything. God knows I'm not above
paying someone to listen to me."

"Funny, I thought it was the other way around.  That you get paid--and very
well, from what I've read--so people can listen to you.  And I'm pretty sure
they do it voluntarily, Danny."  She put her elbows on the desk and leaned
forward. "I'm ready.  Talk to me."

He couldn't figure out how to start.  "Well, there was the lawsuit."

"There's a lawsuit?  Someone's suing you?"

"No, they're suing Jerry Falwell."

Abby tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.  "Okay, I know you don't want to
talk about Casey, but--"

"It's relevant.  Natalie got hold of the story from a fax and brought it to
Casey, and that's why he 'owes' her a present.  Falwell endorsed a candidate,
using names and everything.  Now there's a group suing to make sure he loses
tax-exempt status."

"Sounds good.  And I see how it fits in to the story about Casey buying Natalie
jewelry.  But it pertains to you, how?"

He pointed to his chest with both index fingers.  "Have we met?  I'm Jewish.
Jerry Falwell hates me."

"You, personally?"

"My people, Abby.  He hates my people."

"He hates lots of people, Dan.  He's an unhappy man who only feels good when the
people who count on him feel bad.  And how is that relevant?"

"It was the fax about the suit that got Casey to agree with Natalie that he
needed to explain to Dana that he didn't mean it when he said 'it' wasn't going
to happen again, or that he meant it but that it didn't mean what she thought it
meant."

Eyes wide, Abby said, "That is remarkable."

"It's a remarkable story."

"No, I mean how you can make all of that into one sentence and say it without
getting out of breath."

"Well, I am a professional."

"Ah."  Her eyes twinkled.  "So you're saying, 'don't try this at home.'"

"Try it, don't try it..."  He held his hands out, palms upward.  "What were we
talking about?"

"We're trying to talk about you, but it's not working as well as we might like.
So why don't you go back to talking about Casey and Dana?"

Dan crunched the strawberry candy.  A fragment got caught between two of his
back teeth and he tried to work it out with his tongue.  "Fwmph," he muttered.
"Wait a second." He dislodged the sliver and ground it down before swallowing.
"I should just write a book about them and be done with it."

"You really could.  It's quite the cast of characters." Abby paused, cocking her
head to one side.  "What's really interesting is how much I learn about you when
you're talking about them."

"Me?"

"Yes."

"I'm giving you nothing here."

"Oh, that's not true at all."  She pointed at the candy he was unwrapping.
"Those, right there.  You're eating quite a few, which is fine because I get a
kickback from your dentist.  What's interesting is that when you chomp down on
them, it's always because you're thinking about Dana and Casey having a
relationship."

Dan dropped the candy as if it were hot.

"I do not," he said, weakly, knowing it wasn't true.  "Well, maybe a little."

"Want to know what I think?" Abby asked.

"I see no way around it."  Dan folded his hands in his lap.

"You like the idea of Dana and Casey.  You've watched them circling around each
other for almost eleven years, a soap opera playing out in front of your eyes.
But when it gets to the real thing, you're like a little boy covering his eyes
at the love scene and saying, 'Eww, cooties.'"

He'd done exactly that at dozens of movies when he was a little boy, and he knew
she could tell she'd hit a bull's-eye by the smug expression on her face.
"There are some things that should be done in private, that's all.  I'm not
jealous."

"Danny, please."  She shook her head.  "You're gonna have to sell it a little
better than that."

"I'm not!" he exclaimed.  "I'm not secretly in love with Dana."

"I know you're not secretly in love with Dana," Abby said pointedly.

Jumping off the sofa, Dan put in, quickly, "Please, please, for the love of
everything holy, don't try to tell me I'm secretly in love with Casey."

"No.  What you're secretly in love with is the idea of love. It's what made you
be so noble with Rebecca that she left you--and, let me tell you, speaking as a
professional, that woman is a nutburger of the highest order--and it's what made
you goad Casey into the incident with the cricket bat, not that you ever
completely explained it.  You want people to be happy.  You're a nice guy, so of
course you want the best for the people you care about.  But when push comes to
shove, when the money's on the table--"

"You can torture the English language like no one I've ever met--"

"--you're on the outside looking in at something you desperately want.  And that
can hurt, Danny.  Especially when it's your best friend who's made a list you
didn't make, made more on his contract than you did, and now he has this thing
you want more than anything else in the world."

"I wouldn't say 'desperately,'" Dan said softly, looking at his fingernails.
"It'd just be nice to have someone who doesn't continually take my heart out,
lay it on a dissecting table, and go looking for the smallest bits to slice up."

"I know."

He sat down again, slumping on the sofa, his hands dangling loosely between his
knees.  "Am I a lousy person?"

"Are you fishing, or do you really want to know?"

"Go to hell," Dan said, trying not to laugh.  He knew he sounded pathetic and
ridiculous, and that it never worked with Abby.

"I don't fall for that, Dan, and I never will.  You're a good guy, a good guy
with a best friend who's gotten the woman of his dreams, and it's okay to be
jealous.  I give you permission not to beat yourself up about that.  But on one
condition."

"What's that?"

"You have to tell me what the cricket bat was about."

***

Jeremy checked the monitor, making sure the Devil Rays hadn't scored again while
no one was watching.  They hadn't. He glanced at Dana and shook his head.

Beside him, Dana nodded and checked the time.  "Dave?"

Without turning, Dave answered, "Dan was talking too fast."

With a grin, Dana gave an exaggerated shrug.  "I should've known not to give him
soccer highlights."

Jeremy snickered.  "We're a little short."

"How short?" Natalie asked.

Dave shrugged.  "Thirty-five seconds until the c-break."

Natalie checked her shot sheet and commented, "Dan's wrapping up."

Dana activated her mic, "Casey, I need you to fill for twenty-seven seconds."

"Oh, no," Jeremy muttered, already dreading Dana's reaction to the inevitable
Jerry Falwell jokes.

Dana glanced at him, then at Natalie, her brow furrowed. "What?"

"Nothing," Natalie answered, but she instinctively leaned a little bit away from
Dana.

Dana's expression shifted to trepidation as she jerked her attention back to the
monitors.  "What's he going to--?"

"At this point in the show, we usually bring you all the latest in
sports-centered legal squabbles, but surprisingly, no players, managers, or team
owners managed to get themselves arrested this week."  Casey smirked as he
continued, "Luckily for us, the right reverend Jerry Falwell was willing to step
to the plate."

The atmosphere inside the control room tensed as Dana turned very slowly to look
at Jeremy.  "What the hell is--?"

"There's a lawsuit," Natalie interrupted quickly.  "See, Jerry Falwell--"

"Oh, stick a sock in it," Dana muttered, glaring at Casey's image on the monitor
as she pressed the headset tighter to her ear.

Onscreen, Casey straightened his script and finished with, "You're watching
Sports Night on CSC, so stick around."

Dave clicked the stopwatch and announced, "Two minutes back."

Dana was already up and moving, her headset clattering to the floor when she
tossed it in the direction of the desk. "Casey," she yelled, bursting through
the door into the studio.  The door drifted shut behind her, and whatever she
was saying was lost to the denizens of the control room until she got close
enough for Casey's mic to pick it up. "--settled this two years ago!"

"Jerry Falwell is a jerk, Dana," Casey said, standing to face her as she skidded
to a halt and glared at him.  He looked determined, and Jeremy wondered if he'd
finally -- *finally* -- just apologize so everyone in the office could
concentrate on work again.

But when Casey reached for his earpiece and his mic, no doubt intending to move
their conversation somewhere more private, Dana slashed a hand through the air.
"Don't.  We don't have time for this."  She pointed an accusatory finger at his
chest.  "Don't screw up my show."

She whirled and took two steps before Dan reached out and punched Casey's arm.
Hard.

"Ouch!" Casey yelped.  "What the hell was that for?"

"Do something!" Dan insisted, giving his partner a little shove.

In the control room, Natalie nodded.  "Yeah, Casey.  *Do* something."

Casey tilted sideways, then recovered.  "I didn't mean what I said," Casey
blurted.  Loudly.

Inside the control room, everyone winced at the volume of his declaration, but
not a single person moved to take off their headsets.  When Jeremy glanced over
at Natalie, she was leaning forward, gaze intent on the monitors, a small,
satisfied smile on her face.

In the studio, Dana stopped and turned, moving back towards Casey, anger obvious
in every movement.  "If you didn't mean what you said about Jerry Falwell, then
why did you say it?"

"No," Casey said, his hands on his hips.  "I meant that. Jerry Falwell *is* a
jerk."

Jeremy groaned and dropped his head into his hands.

"You already said that," Dana answered, sounding exasperated, and Jeremy
couldn't help but sit back up to watch the train wreck.  On the monitors, Dana
turned once more, heading back for the control room, tense and unhappy.

"Sixty seconds," Dave remarked into his mic.

In the studio, Dan shook his head, and made an exaggerated 'what are you gonna
do?' mug for the cameras.  Jeremy snickered, but Natalie shushed him.

"In Isaac's office," Casey practically shouted.  "I meant we shouldn't do it
again here.  At the office.  I never meant I didn't want to do it again ever."

In the control room, Will leaned toward Chris and asked, sotto voce, "What were
they doing?"

Chris shrugged.  "Probably we don't want to know."

Will considered that.  "Probably."  He wrinkled his nose. "Where do you think
they were doing it?"

"Studio B," Natalie chirped.

Chris, Will, Dave, Kim, and Jeremy turned matching looks in her direction, but
Natalie cheerfully ignored them.

In the studio, Dana stood, frozen, and even though the moment was intensely
personal, Jeremy couldn't tear his gaze from the monitor.  Her expression
shifted quickly, from shock to disbelief to hope, and then she turned to face
Casey.  "What are you saying?"

"I'm sorry for what I said," Casey managed, his voice tight with nerves.  "I'm
sorry about that thing with the croquet mallet."

Dan lifted a hand and leaned toward them.  "Actually, it was a cricket bat."

"Danny!" Dana and Casey shouted in unison.

Dan held up his hands.  "Go on.  I believe Casey was apologizing."  Dan propped
his chin on his hand and grinned at them.  "Don't let me stop you."

Her tone carefully neutral, Dana asked, "You're sorry about the -- about Studio
B?"

Will grimaced.  "Remind me never to go to Studio B again."

Natalie tossed a pen at his head.  "Sssh!"

"Thirty seconds," Dave intoned.

Dana glanced back at the control room, obviously torn between her professional
and personal desires.  "Casey--"

"No," he said, ripping his mic and earpiece off and rounding the anchor desk
with long strides.  "I'm not sorry that it happened," he explained, jerking to a
halt just in front of her.  They stared at each other for a long moment.

"Oh, would you just kiss her already?" Dan shouted, throwing his hands up in
exasperation.

For once, Casey obeyed Dan without protest, grabbing Dana's shoulders with
shaking hands.  The control room erupted into cheers, and Natalie threw herself
into Jeremy's lap.  "Do you see what we did?" she asked, beaming.

"Casey did most of it on his own," Jeremy answered, glancing over at the
monitors again.

At the anchor desk, Danny was standing, arms raised in victory as his two
oblivious colleagues continued to kiss. Danny gestured at the new couple, then
gave the cameras an exaggerated bow.  "And to you all, I say, you're welcome.
Please send all gifts to--"

"Ten seconds back," Dave said.  Loudly.

"--my office," Danny finished hastily.  "You all know where it is.  Okay."  He
sat down, refastened his mic, adjusted his earpiece, and swiveled his chair.
"Uh, Casey?"

Dana and Casey broke apart, both flushed and panicky.  Dana glanced at the
control room, and Natalie, Jeremy, Dave, Chris, and Will all held up one hand.
Her eyes widened comically.  "Five seconds!" she yelped, planting her palms on
Casey's chest to give him a shove.

Unfortunately for Casey, he hadn't quite recovered enough and Dana's push sent
him toppling over onto his ass.

Dan stared down at his fallen partner.  "It's okay," he said, turning back to
the cameras.  "I'm a professional." He paused, grinning into the camera, then
said, "That's all for us.  You've been watching Sports Night on CSC.  On behalf
of my partner, Casey McCall, and our illustrious producer, Dana Whitaker --
thank you for watching."

And if his smile was a little too wide as he read the outro, no one outside of
Studio A would know why.

***

THE END

***

Many, many thanks to: Jo March, Lu, Emily Meredith, and Philateley for their
helpful comments along the way. Special thanks to the very patient Angstville,
who commissioned this story for "Fan the Vote" on LJ and had to wait until my
muse got unstuck.

Feedback is welcome at: macha@healthyinterest.net
and/or Marguerite@operamail.com


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