SN WIP (Homophobic...)

[out_there]

phoebesmum pointed out that the rest of this wip isn't online, so it's kind of a tease. I wasn't sure if it was going to get finished, and it kept being... *strange*, so I didn't post it. Now, I think it's definitely going to get finished (albeit at my slowish rate).

ETA: And, is it my imagination, or is LJ as happening as a funeral parlour today? (*snorts at obligatory SFU reference*)


The next morning, Dan called to say he'd be late. He was stuck in traffic and would be in as soon as he could. Casey cleared the message from the machine and went to Dana's office to relay it to her.

She was standing up behind her desk, bent over copies of today's rundown. "Casey," she said, surprised. Pulling off her red-framed glasses, she gave him a searching look. "What are you doing here?"

"Dan called to say he's stuck in traffic," Casey explained as he walked inside. He considered sitting down but Dana's chairs were always uncomfortable. Just a little too short for him to feel at ease.

"I know."

"You do?"

Dana nodded once. "He called me ten minutes ago."

That meant Dan had called her before he called Casey. Casey guessed he didn't care. After all, he'd sat in the office and let the machine get it anyway. "I just wanted to make sure you knew."

"I do," Dana said, and then looked at him like a piece that refused to fit into the puzzle. "Why are you here today?"

"I work here." Casey waited for her to make sense. It was possible that he was being overly optimistic.

"It's your day off." Dana blinked at him and smiled hopefully. "You know that, right?"

"My next day off is the twentieth," Casey pointed out logically.

"What day is it today?"

"It's Tues..." Casey trailed off as Dana tapped a pink fingernail against her desk calendar. "Ah. It's the twentieth."

Dana nodded. "And it's your day off."

"Apparently." Casey sighed and wondered how he'd lost a day. "I thought it was the nineteenth."

"I know." There was something about Dana's gentle smile that reminded him of the eighteen year old girl she'd been in college: considerate, well-mannered, and able to throw a mean punch. "Go home."

"I could help with the script," Casey offered.

"Go home."

"I could-"

"Casey, go home." She was strangely insistent.

"Why?"

"Because you and Dan had a major fight last night, and I think Dan will be counting on you *not* being here." Her tone was understanding, but it still made Casey bristle.

"That fight wasn't my fault. It's so typical that you automatically take his side," Casey grumbled, folding his arms across his chest.

"I'm not taking anyone's side." Dana sighed and walked around the desk. Stopping in front of Casey, she tilted her head back to look him in the eye. He was reminded of how short she actually was. "I'm not taking Dan's side, but he has to go on air tonight. I don't want you hanging around here, bored and picking at him."

"I'm not going to spend my day tearing him apart." Casey almost said that he didn't need to waste an entire day doing that; he could probably do it in an hour. The unkind thought made him look away.

Dana just patted his check. It was an affectionate, and vaguely patronising, gesture. "Casey, give him a day to settle down, and then work through this." She pulled away and went back to gathering notes from her desk.

"What makes you think he needs time to settle down?"

Dana raised an eyebrow. "The way you guys were growling at each other last night."

"Growling?" Casey had been under the impression that their office was basically sound-proof. Sure, it wasn't *technically* sound-proof, but with the door closed it managed to silence out the bullpen. "You could hear us?"

He really hoped she didn't say yes.

Dana paused and looked at him wearily. "I could see the pair of you circling each other like rabid hounds. I didn't need to hear you to know you were growling."

"Ah." Casey was overwhelmingly relieved. Having that conversation overheard would bring up a lot of issues Casey didn't want to deal with yet.

"Casey?" Dana had her notes stacked in her hands. "Do I need to worry?"

"About me and Dan?"

Dana's blue eyes were clear and knowing, but it was impossible to miss the support in her gaze. "This has been building since June." It wasn't really a question, but she made it sound like one.

"Maybe earlier," Casey admitted. He couldn't remember when that drinking game had happened, but it felt like years ago. Like he and Dan had been off their rhythm for decades.

"The CSC scale shook us all up," Dana said softly, placing the files back on her desk. "But you and Dan really took it to heart."

Casey's shoulders slumped, but he didn't think this had anything to do with the sale. "It's just..." He waved his hands, but it didn't make the words come to mind.

Dana gestured at her couch, and then perched on the arm. "Yeah?"

Casey sat down and then scrubbed a hand though his hair. "It's just... Sometimes, I'd like it to be easy. It just feels as if my entire life is full of difficult relationships."

Dana reached over and took his hand between hers. Her hands were small, but they were warm and strong, and her grip was firm. "What do you mean?"

Casey thought about it. He noticed that Dana's door was closed, even though he couldn't remember either of them closing it. "I mean... I loved Lisa, don't get me wrong."

Dana nodded. "But?"

"But for the last five years, or maybe more, I spent each day walking on eggshells. I wasn't sure what to say or what to think and... It was just difficult, Dana. Marriage shouldn't be about censoring your every action and still managing to screw it up." Dana squeezed his hand, but didn't interrupt. Casey swallowed. "Then there was you and me."

Dana's sweet mouth twisted down. "Me?"

"Should I shut up now?" Casey asked uncertainly, suddenly aware of who he was talking to.

Dana pushed a strand of hair away from her forehead. "No, go on."

"We're friends. We've been friends for years. We flirted and whatever, but we were still friends, right?"

Dana's head bobbed tentatively. "Yeah."

"Then suddenly, we weren't." Casey shrugged. "We kissed, and... We were almost but not quite dating, and then everything went... weird."

Dana laughed, and the sound was incredibly reassuring. "That's probably the best way to describe those months."

"Everything went weird and suddenly I didn't know where we stood.

Dana's brows lowered in concern, or possibly in guilt. "You didn't?"

"We'd always been friends. We flirted, we got a little jealous, but underneath that, we understood each other. We knew each other and we got on," Casey said, the ideas starting to flow. "I knew that I could talk to you. I knew that deep-down, regardless of how much we disagreed or psyched each other out, you actually liked me."

Dana leaned forward, holding their joined hands up. "None of that changed."

"It felt like it. It felt like..." Casey said uncomfortably.

"Like if we argued, I wouldn't like you anymore?"

"It felt like... I had to work to make you like me. That if I relaxed, if I stopped trying..." Casey trailed off, and wished this stuff came easier to him. Wished it didn't sound so moronic and irrational.

"That if you relaxed, I was going to look at you and think, 'Hey, I've know this guy for almost half of my life. How come I didn't figure out he's a total loser?'" Dana snorted, sounding amused. "You thought I'd suddenly realise that you weren't worth my time?"

Casey pulled his lips into a smile. "Just forget it."

She tilted her head, looking at him critically. When she spoke, her eyes were as soft as her voice. "I never meant to make you feel that way."

Casey's smile came a little unstuck. "I know you didn't."

"I *never* meant to make you feel that way," she said again. Her regret was heartfelt. "I never meant to make you feel you weren't good enough, or that you had to become someone else. I never meant that."

Casey's throat closed for a moment and he had to look away. "I never said you did," he said gruffly. "It was just the way I felt." He kept his eyes on the mottled carpet and didn't look up when Dana cleared her throat. He wondered if it was possible for silence to echo.

She dropped his hand and stood up, walking over to sit on his other side. "I've come to a conclusion."

"A conclusion?" Casey asked, and was pleased that his voice felt normal again.

"I don't think we're good for each other." He shot her a quick glance and she smirked. "Romantically, I mean."

Casey had to grin at her light tone. "Really?"

She nodded. "I think we've known each other too long."

"Sixteen years is a long time," Casey supplied.

"Exactly. We reduce each other to socially awkward freshmen. It's not good for us," she announced with a flourish.

"You could be right.'

"I think I am." Dana flashed a bright smile at him. There was something intoxicating about Dana discovering a new theory. She had a joyous enthusiasm that was simply endearing. "I think we're good friends but we'd be a terrible couple. Just thinking about dating makes us forget who we are."

"And who are we?"

"We are two mature, responsible adults," she said firmly.

Casey was helpless to resist her cheer. "We are capable and loveable people."

"Attractive and charming."

"Witty and erudite."

"And we are very good at what we do," Dana said and then gave into her giggles. Casey laughed too. "We need to remember that."

Casey was still snickering. "Yeah."

"I'm glad we've come to this conclusion."

"Me, too." Casey returned her smile. "I didn't want to think that I'd, you know... caused you too much pain."

"You didn't?" Dana sounded mildly surprised.

"I tried to let you down gently," he pointed out.

Dana leaned her head back, staring at the ceiling. "You did it very graciously. But I can't deny there was some pain caused." He looked over at her, but her smile was happy, if a little wistful. "You're a bit of a heartbreaker, Casey McCall."

Casey snorted and remembered his aunt telling him that he'd grow into quite the heartbreaker some day. Casey was pretty sure she hadn't expected it to take until he was over thirty.

"But it was a good kiss," Dana said thoughtfully. "Sometimes it's worth a little heartbreak for a good kiss."

Casey grinned. "It really was a good kiss. The sex would have been very good." He flushed slightly when he realised what he'd just said.

Dana hmmm'd appreciatively. "The sex would have been *great*." Casey shot a shocked look at her and she shrugged one shoulder. "What? I'm not allowed to have a libido? Don't be such a guy."

Casey shook his head and had no idea how to respond to that.

Dana rolled her eyes. "So, how does this link to Dan?"

He blinked in surprise and said, "I don't know how great sex links to Dan."

Dana nudged him with her bony elbow. "Not the sex. How does the me and Lisa thing link to Dan?"

Casey grimaced, almost unwilling to return to return to the subject. He'd have been happier contemplating great sex with Dana. Dana nudged him harder.

"It took me ten years to figure out what Lisa wanted from me – just to leave her alone and get out of her life. It took the next year and a half to figure out what you wanted, too."

"I didn't want you to leave me alone," Dana said, but there was a hint of uncertainty in her tone.

"No, but it took me that time to realise you didn't really want me as a boyfriend." Dana nodded quickly and Casey continued. "Now? I can relax around you, and around Lisa, because it's... resolved."

"No more walking on eggshells." This was the reason he and Dana were friends. Sometimes, she just got him.

"But as soon as we were sorted out, my friendship with Dan went off the rails."

Dana scowled. It wasn't a pretty expression. "Draft Day."

"Yeah."

"You guys have been bad since then?" She sounded worried.

Casey tried to reassure her. "Dana, we're professionals. We're not going to let that happen to the show again."

"That wasn't what I asked," Dana pointed out doggedly.

"It hasn't been all bad," Casey said, staring at the blue sky outside Dana's window. "It's just... we're fine and then we're not. And it's not all my fault," he assured her quickly. "But..."

"But?" Her shapely brows rose, and he looked down at his hands.

"I don't know. You, Lisa and Dan are the only people who've known me over ten years. Maybe my relationships just come with an expiration date."

"Expiration date?" she echoed.

Casey wondered if the sunshine ever poured through her window. He doubted it, but he thought it should. "Maybe I'm just bound to screw them up after a certain number of years."

Dana bumped him with her shoulder. "He's been your best friend for over ten years. You're not going to lose him over a bit of an argument."

Casey wanted to believe her, but he wasn't quite as sure. Dana watched him carefully, and he was reminded of the way she lost Gordon, the way she lost Sam. Dana probably wasn't the best judge of these situations. "Thanks."

Dana stood up, smoothing her long skirt. "What's this argument about?" He could almost hear her unspoken thought, maybe a bit of interference wouldn't be a bad thing.

"Just... stuff," Casey said lamely, shrugging at her. "I don't want to gossip behind Dan's back. It's kind of personal."

She seemed to accept that. "Okay, but if you need to talk, my door's always open."

Casey twisted his neck towards her office door, which was currently closed. "Actually, it's not."

Dana cleared her throat and half-grinned. "Very funny. Now, go home and get some rest. You can sort this out with Dan tomorrow."

***

He wandered home, dawdling along warm city streets and gawking up at the towering skyscrapers like a tourist. He had an entire day, fourteen unexpected hour, and he didn't know what to do. No plans, no arrangements. In the end, he called Lisa.

She was surprised to hear from him. "Casey? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, Lisa." It was a valid first reaction; he and Lisa didn't call up for casual chats these days. "I've got today off work. I wanted to have Charlie this afternoon."

"It's not your day to have him." She sighed and sounded tired. It was easy to picture her standing over the phone in the kitchen, leaning on the counter and rolling her eyes. "It's only Tuesday."

"I know."

"It's a bit short notice, Casey."

"I know." Casey shrugged and then recalled that she couldn't see that. He wondered if she could imagine him as easily as he imagined her. She'd only been to his apartment twice, so probably not. "It was a spur of the moment decision."

"I have to pick him up in a couple hours," she said reasonably and Casey knew she was thinking about giving in.

He kept his tone friendly and civil. "Nanny's day off?"

"Yeah."

"Did you have any plans with Charlie?" That would be the deal-breaker. If Lisa had plans, there was no way Casey would get to see him. Trying to cancel Lisa's plans was like trying to avert a natural disaster: you took your life into your hands and, generally, didn't acheive a thing.

She hesitated for a moment. "Not really. Nothing that can't be rearranged."

Casey grinned. "I could pick him up from school and have him home to you by about... eight?"

"What are you doing with him?"

"I thought I'd take him to the movies," Casey said, even though he hadn't had any such plans. Charlie would enjoy it. "I'll buy him dinner before I take him back."

"Make sure he doesn't fill up on popcorn." He could easily picture her unimpressed frown, but he didn't care. He was surfing the wave of victory. Victory over what, he wasn't sure, but it was victory all the same.

"I'll make sure."

"And don't let him eat too much sugar. I don't want him bouncing off the walls until midnight."

Grinning triumphantly, Casey said, "I'll make sure he eats well."

"And not a minute after eight, Casey."

"I'll see you at eight," Casey agreed happily, already planning where he'd take Charlie to eat. "Bye, Lisa."

"Goodbye." The click, as she hung up, echoed down the line.

***

Comments

[laylee.livejournal.com]

Okay, I'll get it right this time...

As I was saying, I'm really liking the way Lisa hangs on to the last little piece of control she has over Casey. It's like she knows she can't do anything to him any more except through Charlie and she holding on to that tightly. Of course she probably also realises that as time goes on, that last little string tying her to Casey will break. Charlie will grow up, she'll no longer be able to dictate how and when Casey has access to him and what will she be left with?

[out-there.livejournal.com]

Hmm, I'm liking the bit with Lisa, how she's got to remain in control over Charlie and Casey's access to him.

*thinks*

See, now I take this from the opposite angle. As a single mother, regardless of the fact that Lisa doesn't work and has a nanny, it's got to be a royal pain to have an ex who'll just call out of the blue to take the kid out.

I mean, taking a ten year old kid out on a school night? Just because you're bored? Is not particularly responsible child-rearing. It's sweet that Casey wants to spend time with his son, but I think that Lisa would have easily had a valid reason to say 'no'.

It's not that Lisa is being overly controlling, so much as... she has permanent custody of Charlie, it will come down to being her responsibility to make sure he gets his homework done, gets to bed at a decent hour, etc. Casey may be a totally loving father, but he's also a single guy.

As I was saying, I'm really liking the way Lisa hangs on to the last little piece of control she has over Casey. It's like she knows she can't do anything to him any more except through Charlie and she holding on to that tightly. Of course she probably also realises that as time goes on, that last little string tying her to Casey will break. Charlie will grow up, she'll no longer be able to dictate how and when Casey has access to him and what will she be left with?

To me, Lisa isn't as cruel as Dan thinks she is. She's just stuck with Casey as an ex. Casey, who can be critical and judgemental, and... basically fickle and hypocritical as hell when it suits him. He's a nice guy, he's a great guy, but he's got his faults. *g*

But, if that's the way you see it, I'm kinda glad. It means that I haven't made her too nice (which was my concern with Dana... *squints at fic*) or made her a total battle-axe. *grins proudly*

[sangerin.livejournal.com]

Friending you *g*

See, I need to have stuff like this show up on my f-list, rather than relying on it hitting a bit of friendsfriends that I see rather than a bit that I don't see...

[out-there.livejournal.com]

Friending you *g*

I welcome you and your happy CJ icon. *g* (Possibly, I should warn you that I do tend to be spammy and dull, but there are occasional fics.)

Regarding this fic, I finally posted all that I had, so if you want to check it out in context, it's here (http://www.livejournal.com/users/out_there/423203.html?mode=reply)

[sangerin.livejournal.com]

I've spent a very pleasant afternoon reading that WIP... I'm now in the process of trying to come up with some intelligent feedback.

And I don't mind the spammy dullness. A lot of it's Melbourne spammy dullness, and I don't really get to see many LJ entries about Melbourne. Except my own... (also dull)

[out-there.livejournal.com]

Oooh! You're another Melbourne SN fan? Truly cool!

Hmmm... that makes four LJers (you, me, laylee and sajee...)