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lj_snarchiveTitle: Strike Two
Author: timberwolf63
Pairing: Dan/Casey
Rating: PG
Category: Dan/Casey; pre-slash
Disclaimer: The characters belong to Sorkin.
Note: Post-canon by a few years.
Casey watched as his wife folded a pair of her dress pants and placed them in the box. She was packing methodically, which was no surprise—she was a methodical woman. It’d been one of the things that had made them so compatible.
He sighed. So much for compatibility.
“Can I help you with anything, Ericka?”
“No, I’m almost done.”
He’d never completely gotten past the fact that her name was spelled ‘Ericka.’ Oh, he’d never said anything to her, of course, but come on. That right there—the “ck” combination? That was just overkill. C or k, sweetheart; pick one.
He shook his head. Really, what was his problem? He was a grown man, married for the second time, and he was fixated on the spelling of the woman’s name? Sometimes he thought he only masqueraded as an adult.
He watched as Ericka, she of the infuriating “ck” combination, picked up the box filled with her clothing and headed out of the bedroom. Casey followed as she made her way to the front door.
“I’m not sure when I’ll be back for the furniture,” she said over her shoulder. “I’ll call you.” Suddenly she stopped, apparently remembering something, and set her box down on the coffee table. Reaching into her jeans pocket, she pulled out her apartment key and handed it to him.
He only nodded. She grabbed her box again and strode out the door, with a simple “Bye, Casey,” as if she were doing nothing more than leaving for work for the day.
Casey stood there in bewilderment. His second marriage had just ended, and this one hadn’t even lasted a year. Lisa, strike one. Ericka, strike two.
What the hell was wrong with him?
*******************************
He went to work as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. He did the show flawlessly—“I’m Casey McCall alongside Scott Murphy”—and then he went home to his empty apartment and slept for 10 hours. When he got up, he got in his car and drove to Philadelphia.
Dan had inexplicably taken the anchor job with Comcast SportsNet Philadelphia nine months before. Casey still didn’t understand it. It wasn’t anywhere near as prestigious a job as Sports Night had been; it probably paid considerably less money. Casey’d been in shock when Dan had told him he was moving on. They’d been such a success as a team, and Casey had assumed Dan was content—if not downright happy—with the way things were going at CSC.
“I’m in a rut,” Dan had said at the time. “I want to do something new.”
And although Casey had tried to talk him out of it, Dan went anyway. Off to Philadelphia, land of the Eagles and Sixers and Phillies. Local sports instead of national exposure. A solo anchor instead of one-half of a team.
Sports Night carried on without him, and so did Casey. But both seemed somehow off-kilter and incomplete.
****************************
He’d been to Dan’s apartment once before, and he drove straight there, using both his memory and Mapquest directions for guidance. It was a Saturday afternoon, but that didn’t necessarily mean Dan would be home. Casey eyed his cell phone, but didn’t want to announce his arrival. He’d take his chances.
He found a parking space almost right away and decided to take that minor miracle as a good omen.
When Danny opened the door, Casey watched as first surprise then delight crossed his features. And Casey let out the breath he’d been holding. This had been the right call after all. Dan would help him. Dan understood him.
Dan was almost always the answer to any Casey question.
“Marriage number two just died,” he said without preamble, and now Dan’s expression shifted to puzzlement. He threw open the door and gestured Casey inside.
“You’re kidding,” he said as Casey stepped past him into the apartment. “I didn’t know you two were having problems.”
“They mounted quickly.”
“Are you all right? Case?”
Casey turned to face his best friend in all the world and suddenly he felt small. He felt tired and sad and small. Like a little boy. He didn’t answer right away—he couldn’t, and Dan closed the door and went to him, pulling him into an embrace.
Casey just shut his eyes and held on for a while. They didn’t speak, but like so many other times in their lives, they didn’t need to.
********************************
They sat at Dan’s kitchen table and drank too-strong coffee. In the other room, tennis was on the TV, though the volume was turned low. Casey hadn’t noticed who was playing.
“You want to talk about Ericka?” Dan’s mouth quirked up a little as he added, “I have to tell ya, that whole ‘ck’ thing? I always thought that was kind of annoying.”
Casey let out a single laugh. “Yeah. Me too.” He shrugged. “There’s nothing to talk about. I mean, it’s over. There’s nothing to salvage.” He looked around the kitchen, avoiding Dan’s eyes. “I think what’s bothering me the most is that I apparently don’t know what I want. I thought I wanted Ericka, but we didn’t even make it to our first anniversary.” He turned his gaze back to Dan’s face and said, “I think there’s something wrong with me.”
Dan shook his head. “Just because you’ve had some failed relationships doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you. Everyone has failed relationships.”
“But I’ve been married twice now, and I’m not even 40.”
“You having an early midlife crisis?”
“Two strikes, Danny. I’ve got two strikes. One more and I’m out.”
“So if that happens—and I’m sure it won’t—you just wait for your next at-bat, that’s all. I really like the baseball analogy, by the way. I mean, sure, it’s a cliché, but it’s easy to work with.”
Casey tried a smile but it felt lame. He studied the concerned face of his friend. “What’s wrong with me, Danny?”
Dan reached out and put his hand on Casey’s forearm. “Not a thing, Casey.”
*****************************
Casey didn’t ask the question until they were at dinner, sipping wine and awaiting their meals at a four-star restaurant on South Street. It was a touchy subject between them, to be sure, but Casey was still looking for an answer, all these months later.
“Danny, why did you do this?”
Dan sighed. He knew what the “this” in that question was referring to. “We’ve had this conversation, Casey.”
“I’m not sure I ever got a real answer. The true answer. Why’d you come to Philly for an obviously inferior job on local cable?”
Dan stiffened. “I like my job,” he said, sounding defensive and annoyed. “Drop it, Casey.”
“I miss you. The show’s not the same without you. Scott and I work OK together, we get the job done. But there’s not nearly the chemistry that you and I had—”
“Just stop. It’s been months and months. Get past it.”
“I thought everything was fine. I thought we were both happy with the show, with our careers…” He stopped. He knew Danny better than anyone, and all of a sudden he was positive of one thing: Danny had been happy at CSC. So the impetus for moving hadn’t had anything to do with work… It’d been something else. He let out a barely audible “Ohhhh” as realization hit. His eyes locked on Dan’s and he said, “What were you running from? It wasn’t work at all, was it? It was something else.”
“There isn’t any point in talking about it.”
“Tell me anyway.”
But silence fell between them as Dan stubbornly held his tongue. Casey took another sip of wine as he recalled the day Dan had told him he was leaving both the show and New York. It’d been a few weeks after his wedding to Ericka, and he remembered thinking at the time: too much is changing in my life. He’d selfishly worried about how Dan’s leaving would affect him when he should have focused on being a best friend instead.
“I was wrong,” he said now, “to not force you to talk about it at the time. Because I could have helped if you had a problem—”
“You are truly an ass, Casey McCall.”
Casey stopped, surprised but not offended. His best friend could call him an ass if he wanted to, that was one of the unwritten rules of best-friendship. But he had no idea what he’d done to deserve it. “You wanna elaborate on that, Dan?”
Dan wore a look that Casey couldn’t read. And somebody please explain that to me, Casey mused. How is it possible that, after all these years, Dan Rydell has an expression in his repertoire that I can’t decipher? “You had just gotten married for the second time,” Danny was saying. “A few weeks later, I split. You don’t make any connection there?”
Casey squinted at Dan, thinking nothing more coherent than: huh? for a few moments. His brain churned as he considered Dan’s words. “What kind of connection would that be, Danny?”
Dan rolled his eyes. “You really this dense? I couldn’t stick around and watch you in yet another marriage from my front-row seat. You get it? I needed to move on, Casey. I needed to get over you.”
And there it was, the unspoken finally spoken. Casey had been truly clueless up until this moment. But now… well, now the truth was out and his surprise was absolute, and the room had gone very still.
For a long time he didn’t say anything. When he did, it was such a delayed reaction it was comical. “Get over me?”
“Back from intermission?” Dan asked with a smirk.
“You’re not going to believe me, but I honestly had no idea you felt that way about me.”
Dan’s expression softened. “Actually, I do believe you. I know the thought never entered your mind. It’s OK, Case. You and I—we’re OK.”
“Are we? You left New York because of me is what I’m hearing. I’m not OK with that.”
“I told you, I’m happy here.” At that moment, the waiter arrived with their food, and Dan turned pleading eyes to Casey. “Can we drop it now? You got your answer.”
Casey nodded, eyeing his filet mignon and realizing he didn’t have much of an appetite anymore. “Yeah. We can drop it.”
********************************
Casey drove back to Manhattan after dinner. Things between them had turned awkward, and Casey knew that he wasn’t going to feel comfortable spending the night in Dan’s apartment. He needed time to process everything in his overloaded brain.
He plodded through the days. As though he were watching his life on a TV screen, he was passive as things happened around him. Ericka got her furniture moved out of the apartment, divorce proceedings began, his colleagues treated him with kid gloves. His scripts had become less than zippy, and Scott had to rewrite a lot of his stuff. He didn’t argue about it.
“What’s wrong with me?” he asked Natalie out of the blue one day as she sat in his office watching him tying his tie.
“Your taste in music could use some updating,” she offered, “but other than that… nothing’s wrong with you, Casey.”
“You think the fact that I’ve been married and divorced twice now doesn’t indicate I’ve got… issues of some sort?”
“I think it indicates that neither one of those women were right for you.”
“Was right for me,” Casey said automatically.
“What?”
“‘Neither one was right,’ not ‘were right.’ It’s a common mistake, though.”
“Casey? I changed my mind. There is something wrong with you. You obsess too much over words. Written words, spoken words, it doesn’t matter.”
“Dan used to like that about me.”
“Danny was an exceptional friend,” Natalie said as she left the office. “You’re on in 15 minutes.”
A sad smile came to Casey’s face. Dan was an exceptional friend. He missed him like hell, and he wished he was about to step onto the set in 15 minutes and intone, “I’m Casey McCall alongside Dan Rydell.” Have that banter back again, that chemistry. They used to finish each other’s sentences, read each other’s minds… their connection was that potent.
And really, how many times in your life do you find that with someone? Casey’d tried to replicate the intensity of that bond with two women, and had failed.
For some reason, he flashed back on the time, less than a month after he and Lisa had split, when he’d come down with a nasty case of the flu. For two days, he was Zombie McCall, too lightheaded and weak to function. Dan had spent those nights on his couch, afraid to leave Casey alone in such a state.
Then there was the day Charlie had been caught trying to lift a comic book from the Barnes and Noble. Casey’d been unable to form complete, coherent sentences, he was that livid, but Dan had smoothly stepped in and sat down at the kitchen table with Charlie, calmly explaining that stealing was wrong and stupid and would absolutely never be tolerated in this house. Charlie, wide-eyed and sniffly, had nodded and said things like “Yes, sir” and “Never again” and “I’m sorry.” Casey remembered watching the two of them that day, thinking the definition of a true friend is someone who’s there to take the handoff when you need him to, with grace and understanding and patience.
Or someone who thinks of you first when he’s given courtside tickets for the Knicks. Who buys two cups of coffee on his way to the office. Who calls you in the 4th quarter of a Giants game that he knows you’re all pumped up about to share in the joy of a miraculous interception. Who lifts your spirits just by smiling at you across the table in the rundown meeting.
I needed to move on, Casey. I needed to get over you.
Just how long was that going on? he wondered. And how could I have missed it?
And if his gaze had lingered on Dan’s face sometimes when they were out at the bar with the gang… if his fingers had brushed over Dan’s a time or two when he handed him a script… if he’d occasionally thought the word “adorable” as he watched Dan typing away on the PC… well, what of it?
“First team to the studio,” came the sound of Kim’s voice through the P.A., breaking into his thoughts. “This means you, Casey!”
He blinked back to the present and straightened his tie even though it was already straight. “Good show,” he said to the empty room, and he headed out.
*************************
“So what kind of person would be the right one for me?” Casey asked Natalie the next day as they sat and waited for the rundown meeting to start.
“Huh?”
“Yesterday you said that neither Lisa nor Ericka was the right one for me. So now I’m asking, what kind of person would be right for me, in your estimation?”
“William Safire,” she replied without missing a beat.
“I’m serious. You’re very astute, Natalie. I’m interested in your opinion, in your evaluation of my personality and the personality of my soul mate. My potential soul mate, that is.”
“You already know the answer to that, Casey.”
“I do?”
She leaned forward and practically whispered, even though they were the only ones in the conference room. “Listen to the way you’ve phrased your own question.”
“What?” he asked, his brow furrowing.
Now she put her hand on his, saying, “You obsess over words, remember? Your subconscious has answered your own question.” Scott came into the room then, and she drew back, removing her hand. “Think about it.”
*************************
Casey stood in the shower the next morning, warm water spraying against his back, the radio telling him the Dow was down, when suddenly his eyes snapped open. He blinked. The voice on the radio faded. His mouth actually formed an O as Natalie’s meaning finally became clear. Jesus, he thought, I am dense.
Listen to the way you’ve phrased your own question.
What kind of person would be the right one for me?
Not “woman,” but “person.”
Your subconscious has answered your own question.
His hair was still dripping a little and he was only dressed from the waist down as he dialed the phone. It would be better to do this in person, but he couldn’t imagine taking the time to drive to Philly.
“Danny?”
“What time is it?”
“Sorry, were you sleeping? It’s 7:40. You awake enough to talk? I really need you to be awake right now, Danny.”
“I’m gettin’ there. You go ahead and talk. I’ll keep up with you.” But then Casey heard a yawn that seemed to belie Dan’s words.
“Danny?”
“Honestly, Case. Go right ahead.”
“I kept asking you, remember? I wanted to know what was wrong with me?”
“I remember.”
“Well now I know there’s nothing wrong with me—”
“Didn’t I tell you that?” Now Dan sounded a bit more awake. Awake and exasperated. “I swear I told you that.”
“You did, and you were correct. The women were wrong… There was nothing wrong with them per se, but they were wrong for me. I get it now. I was looking past the right person all along.” There was silence now, silence as Casey’s meaning seemed to be getting through to Dan’s barely functioning brain. “I’m right, aren’t I, Danny?”
“Case…”
“Come home, Danny. This is where you belong. You don’t belong in Philly. Come back.”
“Casey—”
“Let’s figure this out. We can get your job back on Sports Night. We can be a team again, and more—”
“Slow down, Casey.”
And Casey did stop then, because he didn’t like the tone of Dan’s voice. “Why? Don’t you get what I’m saying here?”
“I get it, Casey. Believe me, I get it. I’m just not sure…”
“About?” Casey prodded. He was surprised by Dan’s reaction, his apparent hesitation in light of what Casey’d just confessed.
“I’m worried that this is just a knee-jerk reaction to your divorce. That you’re being a little impulsive here. I don’t want to be…” There was a long pause and then Dan seemed to change the subject drastically, saying, “When Harry Met Sally. You know that movie?”
“Of course I know that movie, Danny,” Casey said impatiently. “Everybody knows that movie.”
“When they have their fight? Meg Ryan says, ‘I’m not your consolation prize.’ You follow me, Casey?” Dan repeated it, enunciating every word. “I am not your consolation prize.”
Casey was thrown for a minute. His mouth wanted to form words but he wasn’t sure which ones would be the right ones. He fast-forwarded through When Harry Met Sally in his mind and he smiled. “They wound up together in the end, though, Danny. Remember? They wound up together—in New York.” Danny laughed and Casey felt relief wash over him. Laughter was a step in the right direction. “Anyway,” he continued, his voice soft, “you’re not that, and you know it. You’re not the consolation prize. You’re the grand prize.” He paused, then, “Wait, was that too corny?”
Casey could hear the smile in Dan’s voice as he replied, “That was maybe the corniest thing I’ve ever heard you say. But I liked it.”
“So you’ll come home?”
“I don’t know. Are you going to stop saying corny things to me?”
“Probably not.”
“Are you gonna remember every single one of our anniversaries?”
“I will. I’ll put them into my Blackberry.”
“Come to my defense the next time Natalie throws water in my face?”
“I’ll tackle her before she gets anywhere near you.”
“Go with me to see Tom Waits?”
“Uh. Negotiable.”
“Because I gotta tell ya, Casey, if we’re gonna do this, we’re gonna do it right. We’re not gonna go about this half-assed, oh no, my friend, we’re gonna go about it entirely assed—”
“Danny?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re coming home then?”
A slight pause, but long enough to make Casey hold his breath. “Yeah. I’m coming home.”
Casey closed his eyes, leaned back, and smiled. He could almost hear the roar of the crowd and the unmistakable crack! as the bat connected with ball.
Homerun.
Author: timberwolf63
Pairing: Dan/Casey
Rating: PG
Category: Dan/Casey; pre-slash
Disclaimer: The characters belong to Sorkin.
Note: Post-canon by a few years.
Casey watched as his wife folded a pair of her dress pants and placed them in the box. She was packing methodically, which was no surprise—she was a methodical woman. It’d been one of the things that had made them so compatible.
He sighed. So much for compatibility.
“Can I help you with anything, Ericka?”
“No, I’m almost done.”
He’d never completely gotten past the fact that her name was spelled ‘Ericka.’ Oh, he’d never said anything to her, of course, but come on. That right there—the “ck” combination? That was just overkill. C or k, sweetheart; pick one.
He shook his head. Really, what was his problem? He was a grown man, married for the second time, and he was fixated on the spelling of the woman’s name? Sometimes he thought he only masqueraded as an adult.
He watched as Ericka, she of the infuriating “ck” combination, picked up the box filled with her clothing and headed out of the bedroom. Casey followed as she made her way to the front door.
“I’m not sure when I’ll be back for the furniture,” she said over her shoulder. “I’ll call you.” Suddenly she stopped, apparently remembering something, and set her box down on the coffee table. Reaching into her jeans pocket, she pulled out her apartment key and handed it to him.
He only nodded. She grabbed her box again and strode out the door, with a simple “Bye, Casey,” as if she were doing nothing more than leaving for work for the day.
Casey stood there in bewilderment. His second marriage had just ended, and this one hadn’t even lasted a year. Lisa, strike one. Ericka, strike two.
What the hell was wrong with him?
*******************************
He went to work as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. He did the show flawlessly—“I’m Casey McCall alongside Scott Murphy”—and then he went home to his empty apartment and slept for 10 hours. When he got up, he got in his car and drove to Philadelphia.
Dan had inexplicably taken the anchor job with Comcast SportsNet Philadelphia nine months before. Casey still didn’t understand it. It wasn’t anywhere near as prestigious a job as Sports Night had been; it probably paid considerably less money. Casey’d been in shock when Dan had told him he was moving on. They’d been such a success as a team, and Casey had assumed Dan was content—if not downright happy—with the way things were going at CSC.
“I’m in a rut,” Dan had said at the time. “I want to do something new.”
And although Casey had tried to talk him out of it, Dan went anyway. Off to Philadelphia, land of the Eagles and Sixers and Phillies. Local sports instead of national exposure. A solo anchor instead of one-half of a team.
Sports Night carried on without him, and so did Casey. But both seemed somehow off-kilter and incomplete.
****************************
He’d been to Dan’s apartment once before, and he drove straight there, using both his memory and Mapquest directions for guidance. It was a Saturday afternoon, but that didn’t necessarily mean Dan would be home. Casey eyed his cell phone, but didn’t want to announce his arrival. He’d take his chances.
He found a parking space almost right away and decided to take that minor miracle as a good omen.
When Danny opened the door, Casey watched as first surprise then delight crossed his features. And Casey let out the breath he’d been holding. This had been the right call after all. Dan would help him. Dan understood him.
Dan was almost always the answer to any Casey question.
“Marriage number two just died,” he said without preamble, and now Dan’s expression shifted to puzzlement. He threw open the door and gestured Casey inside.
“You’re kidding,” he said as Casey stepped past him into the apartment. “I didn’t know you two were having problems.”
“They mounted quickly.”
“Are you all right? Case?”
Casey turned to face his best friend in all the world and suddenly he felt small. He felt tired and sad and small. Like a little boy. He didn’t answer right away—he couldn’t, and Dan closed the door and went to him, pulling him into an embrace.
Casey just shut his eyes and held on for a while. They didn’t speak, but like so many other times in their lives, they didn’t need to.
********************************
They sat at Dan’s kitchen table and drank too-strong coffee. In the other room, tennis was on the TV, though the volume was turned low. Casey hadn’t noticed who was playing.
“You want to talk about Ericka?” Dan’s mouth quirked up a little as he added, “I have to tell ya, that whole ‘ck’ thing? I always thought that was kind of annoying.”
Casey let out a single laugh. “Yeah. Me too.” He shrugged. “There’s nothing to talk about. I mean, it’s over. There’s nothing to salvage.” He looked around the kitchen, avoiding Dan’s eyes. “I think what’s bothering me the most is that I apparently don’t know what I want. I thought I wanted Ericka, but we didn’t even make it to our first anniversary.” He turned his gaze back to Dan’s face and said, “I think there’s something wrong with me.”
Dan shook his head. “Just because you’ve had some failed relationships doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you. Everyone has failed relationships.”
“But I’ve been married twice now, and I’m not even 40.”
“You having an early midlife crisis?”
“Two strikes, Danny. I’ve got two strikes. One more and I’m out.”
“So if that happens—and I’m sure it won’t—you just wait for your next at-bat, that’s all. I really like the baseball analogy, by the way. I mean, sure, it’s a cliché, but it’s easy to work with.”
Casey tried a smile but it felt lame. He studied the concerned face of his friend. “What’s wrong with me, Danny?”
Dan reached out and put his hand on Casey’s forearm. “Not a thing, Casey.”
*****************************
Casey didn’t ask the question until they were at dinner, sipping wine and awaiting their meals at a four-star restaurant on South Street. It was a touchy subject between them, to be sure, but Casey was still looking for an answer, all these months later.
“Danny, why did you do this?”
Dan sighed. He knew what the “this” in that question was referring to. “We’ve had this conversation, Casey.”
“I’m not sure I ever got a real answer. The true answer. Why’d you come to Philly for an obviously inferior job on local cable?”
Dan stiffened. “I like my job,” he said, sounding defensive and annoyed. “Drop it, Casey.”
“I miss you. The show’s not the same without you. Scott and I work OK together, we get the job done. But there’s not nearly the chemistry that you and I had—”
“Just stop. It’s been months and months. Get past it.”
“I thought everything was fine. I thought we were both happy with the show, with our careers…” He stopped. He knew Danny better than anyone, and all of a sudden he was positive of one thing: Danny had been happy at CSC. So the impetus for moving hadn’t had anything to do with work… It’d been something else. He let out a barely audible “Ohhhh” as realization hit. His eyes locked on Dan’s and he said, “What were you running from? It wasn’t work at all, was it? It was something else.”
“There isn’t any point in talking about it.”
“Tell me anyway.”
But silence fell between them as Dan stubbornly held his tongue. Casey took another sip of wine as he recalled the day Dan had told him he was leaving both the show and New York. It’d been a few weeks after his wedding to Ericka, and he remembered thinking at the time: too much is changing in my life. He’d selfishly worried about how Dan’s leaving would affect him when he should have focused on being a best friend instead.
“I was wrong,” he said now, “to not force you to talk about it at the time. Because I could have helped if you had a problem—”
“You are truly an ass, Casey McCall.”
Casey stopped, surprised but not offended. His best friend could call him an ass if he wanted to, that was one of the unwritten rules of best-friendship. But he had no idea what he’d done to deserve it. “You wanna elaborate on that, Dan?”
Dan wore a look that Casey couldn’t read. And somebody please explain that to me, Casey mused. How is it possible that, after all these years, Dan Rydell has an expression in his repertoire that I can’t decipher? “You had just gotten married for the second time,” Danny was saying. “A few weeks later, I split. You don’t make any connection there?”
Casey squinted at Dan, thinking nothing more coherent than: huh? for a few moments. His brain churned as he considered Dan’s words. “What kind of connection would that be, Danny?”
Dan rolled his eyes. “You really this dense? I couldn’t stick around and watch you in yet another marriage from my front-row seat. You get it? I needed to move on, Casey. I needed to get over you.”
And there it was, the unspoken finally spoken. Casey had been truly clueless up until this moment. But now… well, now the truth was out and his surprise was absolute, and the room had gone very still.
For a long time he didn’t say anything. When he did, it was such a delayed reaction it was comical. “Get over me?”
“Back from intermission?” Dan asked with a smirk.
“You’re not going to believe me, but I honestly had no idea you felt that way about me.”
Dan’s expression softened. “Actually, I do believe you. I know the thought never entered your mind. It’s OK, Case. You and I—we’re OK.”
“Are we? You left New York because of me is what I’m hearing. I’m not OK with that.”
“I told you, I’m happy here.” At that moment, the waiter arrived with their food, and Dan turned pleading eyes to Casey. “Can we drop it now? You got your answer.”
Casey nodded, eyeing his filet mignon and realizing he didn’t have much of an appetite anymore. “Yeah. We can drop it.”
********************************
Casey drove back to Manhattan after dinner. Things between them had turned awkward, and Casey knew that he wasn’t going to feel comfortable spending the night in Dan’s apartment. He needed time to process everything in his overloaded brain.
He plodded through the days. As though he were watching his life on a TV screen, he was passive as things happened around him. Ericka got her furniture moved out of the apartment, divorce proceedings began, his colleagues treated him with kid gloves. His scripts had become less than zippy, and Scott had to rewrite a lot of his stuff. He didn’t argue about it.
“What’s wrong with me?” he asked Natalie out of the blue one day as she sat in his office watching him tying his tie.
“Your taste in music could use some updating,” she offered, “but other than that… nothing’s wrong with you, Casey.”
“You think the fact that I’ve been married and divorced twice now doesn’t indicate I’ve got… issues of some sort?”
“I think it indicates that neither one of those women were right for you.”
“Was right for me,” Casey said automatically.
“What?”
“‘Neither one was right,’ not ‘were right.’ It’s a common mistake, though.”
“Casey? I changed my mind. There is something wrong with you. You obsess too much over words. Written words, spoken words, it doesn’t matter.”
“Dan used to like that about me.”
“Danny was an exceptional friend,” Natalie said as she left the office. “You’re on in 15 minutes.”
A sad smile came to Casey’s face. Dan was an exceptional friend. He missed him like hell, and he wished he was about to step onto the set in 15 minutes and intone, “I’m Casey McCall alongside Dan Rydell.” Have that banter back again, that chemistry. They used to finish each other’s sentences, read each other’s minds… their connection was that potent.
And really, how many times in your life do you find that with someone? Casey’d tried to replicate the intensity of that bond with two women, and had failed.
For some reason, he flashed back on the time, less than a month after he and Lisa had split, when he’d come down with a nasty case of the flu. For two days, he was Zombie McCall, too lightheaded and weak to function. Dan had spent those nights on his couch, afraid to leave Casey alone in such a state.
Then there was the day Charlie had been caught trying to lift a comic book from the Barnes and Noble. Casey’d been unable to form complete, coherent sentences, he was that livid, but Dan had smoothly stepped in and sat down at the kitchen table with Charlie, calmly explaining that stealing was wrong and stupid and would absolutely never be tolerated in this house. Charlie, wide-eyed and sniffly, had nodded and said things like “Yes, sir” and “Never again” and “I’m sorry.” Casey remembered watching the two of them that day, thinking the definition of a true friend is someone who’s there to take the handoff when you need him to, with grace and understanding and patience.
Or someone who thinks of you first when he’s given courtside tickets for the Knicks. Who buys two cups of coffee on his way to the office. Who calls you in the 4th quarter of a Giants game that he knows you’re all pumped up about to share in the joy of a miraculous interception. Who lifts your spirits just by smiling at you across the table in the rundown meeting.
I needed to move on, Casey. I needed to get over you.
Just how long was that going on? he wondered. And how could I have missed it?
And if his gaze had lingered on Dan’s face sometimes when they were out at the bar with the gang… if his fingers had brushed over Dan’s a time or two when he handed him a script… if he’d occasionally thought the word “adorable” as he watched Dan typing away on the PC… well, what of it?
“First team to the studio,” came the sound of Kim’s voice through the P.A., breaking into his thoughts. “This means you, Casey!”
He blinked back to the present and straightened his tie even though it was already straight. “Good show,” he said to the empty room, and he headed out.
*************************
“So what kind of person would be the right one for me?” Casey asked Natalie the next day as they sat and waited for the rundown meeting to start.
“Huh?”
“Yesterday you said that neither Lisa nor Ericka was the right one for me. So now I’m asking, what kind of person would be right for me, in your estimation?”
“William Safire,” she replied without missing a beat.
“I’m serious. You’re very astute, Natalie. I’m interested in your opinion, in your evaluation of my personality and the personality of my soul mate. My potential soul mate, that is.”
“You already know the answer to that, Casey.”
“I do?”
She leaned forward and practically whispered, even though they were the only ones in the conference room. “Listen to the way you’ve phrased your own question.”
“What?” he asked, his brow furrowing.
Now she put her hand on his, saying, “You obsess over words, remember? Your subconscious has answered your own question.” Scott came into the room then, and she drew back, removing her hand. “Think about it.”
*************************
Casey stood in the shower the next morning, warm water spraying against his back, the radio telling him the Dow was down, when suddenly his eyes snapped open. He blinked. The voice on the radio faded. His mouth actually formed an O as Natalie’s meaning finally became clear. Jesus, he thought, I am dense.
Listen to the way you’ve phrased your own question.
What kind of person would be the right one for me?
Not “woman,” but “person.”
Your subconscious has answered your own question.
His hair was still dripping a little and he was only dressed from the waist down as he dialed the phone. It would be better to do this in person, but he couldn’t imagine taking the time to drive to Philly.
“Danny?”
“What time is it?”
“Sorry, were you sleeping? It’s 7:40. You awake enough to talk? I really need you to be awake right now, Danny.”
“I’m gettin’ there. You go ahead and talk. I’ll keep up with you.” But then Casey heard a yawn that seemed to belie Dan’s words.
“Danny?”
“Honestly, Case. Go right ahead.”
“I kept asking you, remember? I wanted to know what was wrong with me?”
“I remember.”
“Well now I know there’s nothing wrong with me—”
“Didn’t I tell you that?” Now Dan sounded a bit more awake. Awake and exasperated. “I swear I told you that.”
“You did, and you were correct. The women were wrong… There was nothing wrong with them per se, but they were wrong for me. I get it now. I was looking past the right person all along.” There was silence now, silence as Casey’s meaning seemed to be getting through to Dan’s barely functioning brain. “I’m right, aren’t I, Danny?”
“Case…”
“Come home, Danny. This is where you belong. You don’t belong in Philly. Come back.”
“Casey—”
“Let’s figure this out. We can get your job back on Sports Night. We can be a team again, and more—”
“Slow down, Casey.”
And Casey did stop then, because he didn’t like the tone of Dan’s voice. “Why? Don’t you get what I’m saying here?”
“I get it, Casey. Believe me, I get it. I’m just not sure…”
“About?” Casey prodded. He was surprised by Dan’s reaction, his apparent hesitation in light of what Casey’d just confessed.
“I’m worried that this is just a knee-jerk reaction to your divorce. That you’re being a little impulsive here. I don’t want to be…” There was a long pause and then Dan seemed to change the subject drastically, saying, “When Harry Met Sally. You know that movie?”
“Of course I know that movie, Danny,” Casey said impatiently. “Everybody knows that movie.”
“When they have their fight? Meg Ryan says, ‘I’m not your consolation prize.’ You follow me, Casey?” Dan repeated it, enunciating every word. “I am not your consolation prize.”
Casey was thrown for a minute. His mouth wanted to form words but he wasn’t sure which ones would be the right ones. He fast-forwarded through When Harry Met Sally in his mind and he smiled. “They wound up together in the end, though, Danny. Remember? They wound up together—in New York.” Danny laughed and Casey felt relief wash over him. Laughter was a step in the right direction. “Anyway,” he continued, his voice soft, “you’re not that, and you know it. You’re not the consolation prize. You’re the grand prize.” He paused, then, “Wait, was that too corny?”
Casey could hear the smile in Dan’s voice as he replied, “That was maybe the corniest thing I’ve ever heard you say. But I liked it.”
“So you’ll come home?”
“I don’t know. Are you going to stop saying corny things to me?”
“Probably not.”
“Are you gonna remember every single one of our anniversaries?”
“I will. I’ll put them into my Blackberry.”
“Come to my defense the next time Natalie throws water in my face?”
“I’ll tackle her before she gets anywhere near you.”
“Go with me to see Tom Waits?”
“Uh. Negotiable.”
“Because I gotta tell ya, Casey, if we’re gonna do this, we’re gonna do it right. We’re not gonna go about this half-assed, oh no, my friend, we’re gonna go about it entirely assed—”
“Danny?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re coming home then?”
A slight pause, but long enough to make Casey hold his breath. “Yeah. I’m coming home.”
Casey closed his eyes, leaned back, and smiled. He could almost hear the roar of the crowd and the unmistakable crack! as the bat connected with ball.
Homerun.
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Date: 2008-07-17 04:44 am (UTC)That was great!
I particularly liked the "what kind of person" bit. And the way you set it up beforehand. It's so true that that's such a tell for people who aren't straight, but I've never seen it used for self-discovery the way it was here. I liked it, is what I'm trying to say :).
I would have liked a grand scene with Casey rushing back to PA but the phone call resolution was good, too.
Jeanine
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Date: 2008-07-17 08:13 pm (UTC)Thanks so much for reading and commenting!
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Date: 2008-07-18 04:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-17 08:54 am (UTC)I love watching Casey get a clue about how he feels, and I love he already knew, just needed some pushing in the right direction to see it.
Yes it was extremely corny, but perfectly Casey and Danny, as was the whole story.
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Date: 2008-07-17 08:15 pm (UTC)Thank you very much for the feedback! Glad you enjoyed.
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Date: 2008-07-17 10:19 pm (UTC)Thanks for sharing!
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Date: 2008-07-18 12:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-18 04:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-18 04:41 pm (UTC)Thanks so much for reading!
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Date: 2008-07-21 02:08 am (UTC)“Back from intermission?” Dan asked with a smirk.
This was great to read; thanks for sharing!
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Date: 2008-07-21 02:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-21 12:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-21 02:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-21 07:16 pm (UTC)I loved it - it was nice to have an SN story of a decent length too, cool though the drabbles are.
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Date: 2008-07-21 10:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-21 09:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-21 10:57 pm (UTC)Thanks for reading.
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Date: 2008-07-25 12:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-25 01:36 pm (UTC)Thanks so much for your comments! I'm glad you enjoyed.