These characters and their environs on Sports Night belong to ABC and Aaron Sorkin. No infringement is intended. This is just for fun, no money is being made from this. This story involves pre-sex between two men, aka: pre-slash. If that is *not* your cup of tea, sweet as it is, then don't read it! (simple, ain't it??) Feedback is *very* much appreciated, and always answered. Flames will be passed around to friends and chuckled over. :) First foray into SN. More to come... Cleveland by Amirin #122 *********************** Casey McCall was never going to get his damned script finished if people didn't leave him the hell alone. It never failed. He could make it unscathed from the elevator, through the maelstrom, into the sanctum he shared with his best friend Dan Rydell, and no one would need his attention for anything more complicated than a 'hi'. Until the instant he sat down and started writing. Writing was a slightly important part of his job. No words on the paper, no words on the teleprompter, no words coming out of his mouth equaled one thing. A Very Bad Thing. Dead Air. And no one wanted Dead Air. So why, for the love of Christ, weren't these people letting him do what he could to prevent a Very Bad Thing? "Casey." "Dana." "Casey." "Yeah." "Look at me." "What?" "When Dan calls, tell him he's on flight 1103 at 10:13. Got it?" "Yeah." "Casey." "Yeah." "Look at me." "What?" "You got it? Flight 1103 at 10:13." "Yeah, Dana, I got it. See? I'm writing it down. Be assured, it has been gotten. Okay?" "Yeah." And then she was gone, out the door with a quick smile that in no way offered Casey any reassurance that he could now get down to writing. Unless he closed the door. An idea which had a certain appeal. He crept carefully over to the doorway, looked around at the organized chaos that was Sports Night and slowly shut out the rest of his coworkers. The noise-level dropped by ninety-percent. Easily. It was quiet. Peaceful. He sat down, enjoyed the quiet, reveled in the peaceful, took his pen in hand and got ready to write. Quiet was good. Peaceful was good. Empty. The office was empty. Empty was not good. Damn, he hoped Dan got back soon. <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>> Dana waited patiently for Isaac to end his phone call. She could do patient. Patient was easy. The pen beating staccato on the arm of her chair in no way meant she was impatient. Neither did the toe-tapping of her black V.G. Saurents. Not at all. "My pleasure. Always happy to help," Isaac hung up the phone with a smile that wasn't. "When is Dan coming home?" he asked her in what was almost a whine. It would've been a whine for anyone but Isaac. Isaac didn't whine. "What's wrong?" she asked automatically. "That's the fourth time Casey's called me in the last thirty minutes. I repeat, when is Dan coming home?" "Is there a problem?" "Dana, there's no problem unless you consider the fact that he couldn't think of another word for 'largesse' a problem. And you're making me repeat myself. I never repeat myself. I don't particularly care for repeating myself. It's extremely unattractive. Now, when is..." "Dan's plane leaves Miami around 10:00." "Good. And get Casey a thesaurus, would you, please?" "He won't need one when Dan gets back." "Well, get him one anyway. I'm sure Dan will be leaving again sometime in the foreseeable future and I'd like him to be prepared." "He won't use it. They have an understanding." "An understanding." "Right." "About thesauri." "It also covers dictionaries." "Get him one anyway." "He'd have to hide it. When Dan comes back." "Hide it." "Right. It would hurt his feelings." "Dan's feelings." "Right. It would tell him that Casey didn't need him anymore." "To have a thesaurus." "Right. Or a dictionary." "That's the understanding." "Right." "I'll hide it for him." "You will?" "Yes. Now, get him a thesaurus." "And a dictionary?" "I'll let you know." "Right. See you later, Isaac." "Right." <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>> Casey was reading over his script. It almost sucked. Reading aloud to an empty room for input wasn't incredibly helpful. He was cursing inwardly when a phone rang and Kim's voice sang out to him. "Casey? It's Dan." He took the phone and perched himself on her desk until she glared at him, sighed, stood, shoved him into her chair and headed for the coffee machine. "Hey." "Hey." "Give me another word for 'largesse'." "Give me the context." "A ridiculously generous donation to one's alma mater." "Try 'generous donation'. It's two words, but it'll get the job done." "You're so good at this." "It's a gift." "Which you dispense with 'largesse'." "You're catching on. When's my flight leave?" "Shit. Dana told me, I wrote it down and...I left it back in the office." "You can't remember?" "Danny..." "I'm coming home and you can't remember enough to tell me what flight and when. I'm feeling seriously wounded, here, Case." "Danny..." "Injured, even." "Danny..." "Approaching insulted." "Okay. You're on flight 1013 and it leaves at 11:03." "You're sure?" "Yes." "Was that so difficult?" "Shut up. Come home." "I'm on my way." <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>> Casey could tell something was wrong by the way the room was slowly filling with people. Which it had been doing for the last ten minutes. People were whispering. It didn't look good. In fact, it looked really, really bad. He went through his sign-off, grinned at his temporary co-anchor, and suddenly had about a half-dozen people getting him out of his mike and steering him into the booth. "What's wrong?" He was asking the room at large, but looking at Dana. "Casey..." "Uh, oh. You never say my name like that unless something is majorly screwed. What? What the hell...? Dana?" The fact that his producer was apparently dissolving in tears did absolutely nothing to put his mind at ease. He looked to Isaac. Isaac looked bad. "Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on?" "Dan's plane caught a wind shear at the end of the runway," Isaac said quietly. "What? How is he? Is he okay? Isaac?" "Casey, it crashed." "No." "They haven't found any survivors." "They haven't found Danny." "Casey..." "No. I refuse to accept this. This is *un*acceptable. They haven't found Danny." "Casey, please..." "Have they?" "No, they haven't. But..." "Then I refuse to accept this. Until they find Danny. What have they told you?" "Not much. They've got a line set up for next-of-kin to call for information." "I'll get his mom on the phone." "Casey? Dan's got you listed as his next-of-kin." Casey's jaw dropped. "Me?" "Yes, you can call. And find out." "Get me a phone." "Casey..." "A PHONE, Dana! Get me a goddamned PHONE!" Isaac had him by the arm before he took another step. "My office. Come on." <<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>> Casey was still arguing with someone in Miami over the impossibility of Dan Rydell actually dying when shouting came through Isaac's closed door just before Dana exploded into the room. "Line two." "Dana? What the hell?" "Line two. Just pick up line two. Line two, Casey, don't argue with me." He stammered a 'hang on' to the person in Miami and put her on hold, took a quick, deep breath and hit line two. "Casey McCall." "Flight 1013 was headed for Trenton." If Casey hadn't been sitting down, he'd have ended up on his ass on the floor of Isaac's office. "Danny?" The word didn't say much, but it meant everything. A hope. A prayer. A thank you. "I wasn't planning on going to Trenton, Case." "No." "I was planning on coming home. Flight 1103 To New York." "Yeah." "Not 1013 to Trenton." "No." "Still, it could've been worse." "God, *Danny*." "It could've been Cleveland." "Yeah." "You got the time mixed up with the flight number." "I-I did?" "Yeah. You did." "Danny..." "Thank you." "Oh, God." "I'm okay. I'm stuck in Miami, but I'm okay." "Good. That's good." "This place is a disaster." "Yeah. I'll bet." Casey didn't notice when the light on line one went off anymore than he'd noticed when Dana had left Isaac's office. "You're alive." "Very much so. It's a good feeling." "Yeah. You had me listed as next-of-kin." "First-of, last-of, next-of. You're kin." "You, too." "Thanks." "God, you are so welcome." "I'm fine. Really. Totally. Completely." "Danny." "Yeah, I know. It could've been a lot worse." "Yeah. It could've been Cleveland." ***********************end