Sketches

By:  Elizabeth Dunn

Disclaimers:  Nope not mine, as much as I wish they were!

Author's notes:  I'm doing this without the help of my beta reader since she's not into this show, so if this story has any glaring problems, blame me.  Spell check can only do so much unfortunately.  :)  This contains angst and buried attraction between two men, so readers beware!

Feedback is greatly appreciated.  I have no idea what I plan on doing with this next, if it should stop here or continue.  I'll figure it out soon I'm sure.

Sketches

Dan walked into his and Casey's office whistling.  It was fall in the city, the weather was finally cool after what seemed like months of oppressive heat, and he had just written the script to end all scripts.  What more could he want out of life at this moment?  He turned to Casey, who was working intently on something, and greeted him with a smile.  "Hey, Case, isn't life great?"

Casey looked up, obviously flustered, and pushed whatever it was that he had been working on under some other papers on his desk.  "Danny.  Hi."

"What was that thing?"

"What was what thing?"

"That thing you just hid."

"Oh, that thing."

"Yes that thing.  Now what was it?  Script?"

"Nope."

"It should be your script, mine is that good that you have to hide yours from it.  Hate letter to J.J.??"

"Nope."

"Something about me?"

"Nope."

"Then what?"  Dan was getting frustrated at Casey's dead end comments.

"Nothing."

"Man, Case, you know I tell you everything.  I have no secrets."

"No you don't.  And I appreciate it."

"Well, don't you think you owe me the same consideration?"

Casey pretended to think about it.  "Nope not this time.  I'll find something else to tell you to make you feel better, though."

"Unless that was your membership form to join the Klan, I sincerely doubt that anything you have there will shock me."

"You never know."

"Now that we have that established, will you tell me?"

"Nope."

"Fine."  He lunged at Casey's desk, pushing Casey out of the way in the process, and grabbed the pile of papers.

"Danny, don't!"

"Let's see, fax, letter from Charlie's school, sports scores-baseball to be exact...."

"*Danny*."

"Script draft...this really sucks."

"I've fixed it.  Now give me that stuff back.  Now."

"Wait what's this?"  Dan held up a sketch.  "Is this it?  This is what you've been hiding?"

"Yes, and now that you know, can I have it back?"

"No, hold on."  He looked at it closely.  It was a drawing of the newsroom, done in ballpoint pen.  "Case, this is good.  Real good.  I didn't know you could draw."

"Nobody does.  It was the plan to stay that way."

"Why were you drawing here then?  You know the shelf life of a secret in this place.  Non-existent."

"I...."  He stopped and looked at Dan.  "Do you want to know the truth about this?"

"Wouldn't miss it for anything Case."

"I draw a lot.  When I can't write, when no one is around, I draw.  I draw until I get the groove back and I can continue with my life."

"Was that what you were doing?  Just now?"

"Yeah, Dan, that was it.  And, thanks to you, the groove was almost back, but you chased it away again.  Don't blame me if the show sucks tonight."

"Fine, I won't.  God, Casey, why didn't you tell me this?"

"You're not going to leave this alone are you?"

"No.  I'm hurt, Case.  Truly hurt.  This is something you should've shared."

"You sound like Natalie."

"No, I'm serious.  How long have you been doing this?"

"I started up again a few years ago as almost a nervous habit.  Some people smoke, I draw."

"Again?  You did this before?"

"I'm sensing you're not going to drop this anytime soon."

"Not a chance.  Why did you stop?"

"I really don't want to talk about this."

"Tough."

"You have no idea how much I don't want to talk to you about this Danny."

"Yeah I do.  Tell me anyway."

Casey sighed in annoyance.  "Fine.  If I tell you, will you promise to leave me alone?"

"Possibly."

"I need more than that."

"It's all you're getting."

"I guess it will have to do."

"Yes.  Quit stalling."

"Fine."  Casey took a deep breath and started.  "I discovered I could draw in high school.  Nobody minded until my senior year when my dad found a sketch of mine.  He yelled, I yelled, he yelled and threatened, and I stopped.  End of story."

"Whoa, hold on.  There's SO much you are not telling me right now."

"Like...?"

"Why did your dad get so mad?"

"You know he's not the most...how shall I put it...tolerant man in the world."

"And?"

"And he thought art was a very...."

'Gay?"

"Thank you ever so much.  Yes, gay thing for a boy, his son, to be doing, especially after he saw my subject."

"And that was?  A flower?  Sad clowns?  What?"

"I don't think you want to know.  I so don't think you want to know."

"And yet I do.  What was it?"

"A guy I knew from school."

"What's so bad about that?"

"You don't have a clue do you?"

"No.  Enlighten me."

"I draw things I have...strong positive feelings for.  Hence the newsroom picture. I love my work."

"Strong positive feelings....  No way, Case.  There is no way you are telling me this."

"I'm not telling you anything."

"You don't have to.  I know you.  I know what you're 'not saying.'  You are sitting there and not telling me that you were in love with a guy."

'That's right.  You deserve a gold star Danny."

"Shit."

"Yeah, that about sums it up.  Now, if you'll excuse me," Casey walked over to the printer and picked up a bunch of paper, "I'm going to take this script down to be put on the 'prompter."

"Case-"

"Later."  He walked out the door.

Dan sank down into his desk chair, amazed.  He had no idea about it-any of it.  /You were in love with a guy, Case?  Man, what more aren't you telling me./  He walked over to Casey's desk and picked up the sketch there.  Yeah, anyone who looked at it would know that this was a guy that loved his job.  Danny looked up and around the office.  No one was looking, for once doing their jobs.  /Hmm, I wonder./  Suppressing a small rise of guilt he opened the desk drawers, looking for more drawings.

He rifled through the first couple drawers, finding nothing interesting, until he hit the bottom one.  There, under a pile of outdated Sports Illustrated magazines, he hit paydirt.  He began leafing through the various drawings.  Quite a few of the office area, bunch of Charlie.  Danny smiled at those.  The man obviously worshipped his son.  One of his ex-wife with a knife embedded in her skull.../wow, strong feelings there..../  Suddenly he stopped and sat up straight, staring at the paper in his hand in shock. /Holy shit what is this??/

Dan was looking at a drawing...of himself.  Absently he admired the skill in it, the quality of the details, while another part of his mind was reeling at those same details.  Caught up in his thoughts, he didn't notice Casey walk in until he cleared his throat.  Dan spun around, having the grace to look guilty.

"So, find anything interesting?"

"Casey...?"

"Yes?"

'This is a drawing."

"It would look remarkably like one, yes."

"It's of me."

"Once again stating the blindingly obvious."

"But you said that you only draw things you have strong feelings for."

"Dan, you're my best friend.  Of course I have feelings for you."

"I think there's more to it than friendly feelings here.  What do you think?"

"Me?"

"Yes you."

"I think you'd be right."

"You're in love with me?"

"Yes."

"Real love?"

"As real as it gets."

"How long?"

"How long?"

"Yes Case, how long have you loved me?"

"I don't have an exact date."

"Ballpark."

"Few years."

"Before or after Lisa?"

"Let it go Danny."

"No!  I find out that my best friend loves me and you want me to let it go?  Why do I see something wrong with this?"

"Because you can't accept it?"

"Because I'm confused."

Casey turned from the window to look at Dan for the first time since he walked into the room.  "Danny, we have a show to do in-"

"Five minutes!  First team to the studio!" came Dana's voice right on cue.

"Five minutes.  We are going to do this show and when it's over we will never talk about this again.  Look," he picked up the sketch and tossed it in the trash.  "It's gone, and look, now I'm gone."  He walked out of the room.

Danny stood there for a minute lost in thought.  Carefully, he bent down and took the drawing out of the can and looked at it.  "Love," he mused to himself.  Shaking his head, he folded it carefully and slipped it into his bag.  Dan walked to the studio lost in thought.  So much had changed in a few brief minutes, and he wasn't sure what to do about it.  One thing was for sure.  Nothing was ever going to be the same, no matter what happened.

The End.