**********
"Whatever happened to Kirsten Ingalls?" Casey poked at a pan of leftover lasagna, trying to decide if it would still be edible by the time they got home after the show.
Dan leaned his elbows on the counter and contemplated the contrasts in his partner's face in the dim glow of the tiny refrigerator light. "Top shelf, between the milk and the pickles," he suggested. Casey rolled his eyes. "Third shelf, in the 'I Can't Believe It's Not Butter" container?" Dan grabbed two glasses from the cupboard and sat down at the table.
Casey snagged the orange juice and nudged the refrigerator door closed with the side of his foot. "I'm serious, Danny," he insisted as he sat on the other side of the table and started pouring. "She used to be in the news all the time. I mean, I remember a year where we could barely go a week without a report on Kirsten Ingalls. For a while it seemed like the only news coming out of the world of women's speed skating involved her in some way." He eyed Dan's glass of orange juice appraisingly before sliding it across to him. "I think that's still good." He watched anxiously as Dan took a sip; when he didn't fall down dead, Casey poured his own glass. "And now it's been...I don't know how long since we heard a peep about her. And it's not like we're sports fans in TV-land thinking, 'Huh, I wonder why Casey and Dan never talk about Kirsten Ingalls anymore.' We're sports reporters over here, and we don't know what happened to her." Dan didn't respond, and Casey leaned over the table. "Dan? You hear me?"
He roused himself enough to speak. "A 'peep'?"
Casey groaned. "You're not listening to me."
Dan drained the rest of his juice and stood. "You know the rules, Casey. I haven't taken a shower yet; technically, I'm still asleep." He didn't wait for a response before padding off toward the bathroom.
With a sigh, Casey put the carton back and thought some more about Kirsten Ingalls.
**********
"Morning, guys," Natalie greeted them too chipperly for Dan's comfort. "You're never going to guess who's talking about a big comeback for the 2002 Olympics." Dan was almost certain he could see daylight between her shoes and the floor.
"Integrity?" Casey asked hopefully.
"Kirsten Ingalls!" Now she clearly was jumping up and down, but when the anchors didn't respond, she landed and peered suspiciously at them. "Guys? This is big news, and you don't seem impressed. In fact--" She leaned forward to study them more closely. "You look nervous."
They exchanged a nervous look. "N-nervous?" Dan said nervously. "We're not nervous."
"You're nervous. You're definitely nervous. If someone forced me to put a name to the expressions on your faces, I would have to call them nervous. Scared, even. Spooked. You look as though you've had a fright." She leaned back. "Kirsten Ingalls doesn't frighten you, does she?"
"Of course not!" Casey said.
"Because I know she's tall and Scandinavian--"
"Natalie, I'm tall and Scandinavian," Casey protested.
"And God knows you scare the hell out of me," Dan said.
"And I know she possesses a couple of traditionally masculine characteristics that might worry you -- threaten your own masculinity--"
"Hey, now--"
"But I assure you she is a very nice woman. Sweet, even. And you really have no reason to be afraid of her."
"We're not afraid of Kirsten Ingalls," Casey assured her.
"You're a little afraid of her."
"We're really not," Dan said.
"I think you've got a bit of fear there."
"Natalie!" Casey ran a hand through his hair and thought of all the places he'd rather be. "We're not -- it's just that...Dan and I were talking about her this morning--"
"And it's just kind of weird, you know?" Dan broke in, and Casey glared at him. "We were talking about her earlier, about how we hadn't heard anything about her in a long time, and now here we are. Hearing about her."
Natalie looked between them, then nodded as though humoring them. "Okay."
"Okay," Casey said, relieved.
"It's all right to admit you're scared of her, you know," Natalie said helpfully.
Dan grabbed Casey's arm before he did anything to her that would leave a mark. "We're going to our office now, Natalie."
"Okay."
Casey looked at him out of the corner of his eye as they walked down the hall. "Didn't think you were paying attention, there."
"This morning?"
"You weren't technically awake."
Dan shrugged. "You had the orange juice. You know the lengths I'm willing to go to for orange juice."
***ONE MONTH LATER***
Casey cleaned things when he was angry. Casey cleaned things all the time, but he really threw the elbow grease into it when he was angry. Dan figured he should do something to reduce the level of his fury, but frankly he enjoyed having the apartment this clean.
"He shouldn't take the job," Casey said fiercely, scowling into the refrigerator.
Dan sighed and folded the newspaper. "It's a better job, Casey."
"It's not a better job." Casey wrinkled his nose. "How long has this been in here?"
Dan leaned forward. "What is it?"
"I really could not say."
"That should give you some idea of how long it's been in there."
With a prissy little disgusted face that almost made Dan laugh, Casey dropped the unidentified leftover into the trash bag. "It's not a better job," he repeated. "It is, at best, a lateral move. Possibly a step down."
"It's a lateral move from which he will eventually advance to greater things."
Casey shook his head and swiped at the shelf with a dishcloth. "They say it's possible he'll advance to greater things. Personally, I don't believe it."
"You think they lied to him?" Dan put the paper on the table.
"I think they might believe there's potential for advancement, but honestly, Danny; it's Tulsa. There's nowhere Jeremy could advance to that would be better than what he has now. He'll outgrow them in a year."
"He's outgrown 'Sports Night,' Casey," Dan reminded him gently.
"Yeah, but we like him. And he likes us." Casey tossed a bag of nectarines into the bag and tried not to contemplate mold.
A gentle smile curved Dan's lips. "So you're saying that as long as Jeremy's going to be miserable at his job..."
"He'd be better off being miserable here, with people he likes, than in Tulsa."
"Okay."
Casey made a face and let the door close. "We should clean that more often."
Dan shrugged. "I figure, you get this angry often enough it'll pretty much take care of itself."
Casey stood and stretched his back, and then Dan's words sank in and his eyes widened. "You're saying you'd purposely piss me off just to get me to clean the apartment?"
Dan shrugged again. "I'm saying I'm not above it."
"You're disgusting."
Dan opened the paper again. "What would you do if the apartment were already spotless and something infuriating happened? Go clean our office? Clean Dana's apartment? This is your therapy, my friend, and I appreciate the value of therapy."
Casey peeled off his rubber gloves and dropped them on the counter. "I'm never cleaning anything in this apartment again. Ever."
Dan turned the page. "I give you one week."
**********
Everyone looked up as Jeremy slid apologetically into the conference room and into a chair. He put his head down over his notepad and didn't notice that no one had stopped staring at him. Finally, he looked up slowly and blushed under the weight of every pair of eyes in the room. "What?"
"What do you mean, 'what'?" Kim demanded.
"Look, I'm sorry I'm late, okay? Are we doing a rundown or not?"
Dana put her pencil loudly on the table. "Jeremy, there is no chance that even the tiniest bit of running down is going to occur before you tell us whether or not you took the job."
"Oh." Jeremy cleared his throat and pushed up his glasses. "Oh," he said again. "I thought we would do that, you know, after."
"Jeremy, no one can concentrate on anything else while we have this thing hanging over our heads," Casey said. "I mean, when even Natalie doesn't know the answer, something is seriously out of balance with the world, and nothing will go right again until that balance is restored."
Jeremy smiled faintly. "Nothing?"
"In the whole wide world," Dan said.
The smile faded. Every pair of eyes in the room was still on Jeremy, but his eyes saw only Natalie as he said, quietly, "I turned them down."
If he said anything after that, if he explained his reasons for turning down the offer in Tulsa or thanked them for being so supportive, they all missed it in the roar of triumph and exhilaration that went up. Elliot hugged Jeremy so hard it nearly crushed him; Dana did her dance of joy all the way around the table; and Kim didn't even seem to mind that Dan snuck a peek down the front of her sweater when she leaned across the table to high-five him. When Jeremy kissed Natalie in the middle of the conference room, Casey laid his hand on Dan's shoulder, and Dan smiled at him.
"Oh, for God's sake, would you two kiss each other already?" Chris yelled.
Dan and Casey were not the kind of men to defy a direct order.
**********
Casey got rough that night. Not that Dan minded, but he couldn't resist teasing him after. "So, that was victory sex?"
Casey pulled the covers up around them. "He didn't take the job, Danny," he said placidly.
**********
The next morning when Dan got out of the shower, Casey was staring into the refrigerator as though he'd never seen its contents before. "When I was talking about Kirsten Ingalls that morning -- did I say that to the refrigerator?"
Dan put on his best wounded expression. "Gee, Case, and here I thought you were saying it to me."
With his hand on the closed freezer door, Casey glared at Dan. "Seriously. Was I standing in front of the refrigerator -- and was it open -- when I did that?"
Dan squinted as he thought back. "Yes! Yes, you were. I remember now; you were keeping me from my orange juice." He sat down and regarded Casey suspiciously. "Why?"
Casey shook his head, took out four eggs, and closed the door. "Nothing. Just kind of thinking weird thoughts."
Dan snorted and reached across the table for the newspaper. "Well, that would certainly be a change of pace."
***THREE WEEKS AFTER THAT***
Isaac was short-tempered all afternoon and wouldn't say why. Dan and Casey cornered him after the six o'clock run-down. "Feel like telling us what's going on, Isaac?" Casey asked.
"Not really."
"C'mon, Isaac, it's us," Dan wheedled, as though that had any hope of swaying him.
It did. "In that case -- not a chance in Hell."
"Nice work, Danny."
"Shut up."
"I'm going back to my office now," Isaac told them.
"Okay."
"That's great."
He started walking, and they followed. He noticed, and stopped. "What the hell do you two think you're doing?"
"Coming to your office," Dan said.
"I said I was going back to my office. That in no way should have been taken to mean that I wanted you to follow me."
"Right."
"Okay."
Isaac took two more steps and realized they were still on his heels. He sighed and halted. "You two won't drop it until I tell you what's going on, do you?"
Casey grinned at Dan. "The man is very perceptive, isn't he, Danny?"
"And almost frighteningly handsome."
Isaac laughed and shook his head. "All right. That's more than enough of that." He stared into the middle distance for a while and sighed again. "Esther and Kathy got into a fight last week."
"What about?"
"How do I know what about, Daniel? There was a lot of yelling and throwing of things and pounding of the tabletop -- and that was just at Esther's end. That's what about."
Dan held up his hands. "Okay. Sorry."
Isaac shook his head, dismissing the apology. "Anyway, Esther and I both assumed it would blow over, but it's been almost a week, and Kathy hasn't called back."
"And Esther is not pleased," Casey guessed.
"Esther is livid. And you know what happens when Esther gets livid."
"Universal Suffering," Dan supplied.
"Universal Suffering," Isaac agreed. "So, now you know, and you know that there's nothing you can do about it. Will you leave me alone?"
"Absolutely, Isaac," Dan said. "Sorry to bother you."
"Yeah, sorry, Isaac," Casey echoed, but Dan noticed a glint in the dark eyes that scared him silly.
**********
"It really is too bad about Kathy and Esther," Casey said from the kitchen that night after the show as Dan melted into a small puddle on the living room couch.
"What?" Dan thought about turning on the TV, but the remote was all the way over there on the table.
"The fight Kathy and Esther had." Casey opened the refrigerator and stared into its mysterious depths. "I think Kathy should call Esther so they can talk about it." Then he did this weird thing with his hands, reminiscent of the disastrous magician at Charlie's last birthday party right before he attempted -- unsuccessfully -- to pull a rabbit out of his hat.
"Casey, what are you doing?"
Casey shrugged, grabbed two beers, and closed the fridge again. "I was just saying--"
"Yeah, I heard what you said. What was the thing?"
"What thing?"
"The...the thing." He tried to replicate the waving motion and almost knocked one of the beers out of Casey's hand. "With your hand. And the refrigerator."
Casey collapsed next to Dan on the couch. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Dan regarded the other man through narrowed eyes. "You're scheming."
Casey tried to play innocent and failed spectacularly. "I don't know what you're talking about," he repeated.
"You know perfectly well. You are plotting something, Casey McCall, and it terrifies me. So...if you could just leave me the hell out of it, please?"
"Don't you trust me?"
"Honestly? Not even a little."
"That wounds me, Danny."
"Hey, I hear what you're saying, and you know how much I love you, but the last time you were in charge of the planning, I ended up with no pants, and you ended up with no Dana, so, yeah, keep me out of it."
Casey poked his shoulder. "Like you minded so much. The no Dana part."
Dan pondered his beer for a moment. "I cannot deny that it seems to have worked out for the best, in the long run."
"Then shut up." Casey set Dan's bottle on the coffee table next to his own and pressed Dan into the couch, and soon enough the question of what their refrigerator was or was not capable of became the furthest thing from either of their minds.
**********
But, oh, that noon rundown the next day, when Isaac came into the conference room smiling broadly and declared, "Everything's okay again, people. Kathy called last night and apologized to Esther, and everything's back to normal."
Casey leaped out of his chair and pumped his fist triumphantly (and rather ridiculously) in the air. "I am the King Midas of Refrigerators!" he crowed.
Isaac turned his gaze on his official Casey-to-English dictionary, and Dan shrugged. "Everything he touches turns to Freon?" He watched his partner strut around the conference room like he'd just won the Tour de France and wondered if he could get a Kenmore delivery guy in and out of the apartment without Casey noticing.
**********
"I'm going to ask for a raise." Casey was slumped against the headboard with the TV remote balanced on his chest.
Dan looked up from the Stephen King novel he'd been trying to read for the past two months. "You're in the first year of a three-year contract."
Casey pointed the remote toward the kitchen. "From the refrigerator. When I'm, you know, asking the refrigerator for stuff, I'm going to ask for some help during renegotiations."
If the esteemed Mr King ever lacked for plot lines, Dan thought, he should come to New York and meet a man named Casey McCall, who thought his kitchen appliances had special powers. "I haven't seen where the refrigerator's interested in that kind of long-range projection, Case."
His partner shrugged and smiled at him. "It's worth a shot, don't you think?"
"Oh, can I tell you how much I don't?"
Casey twisted his neck to look at Dan. "You still don't believe it. You still doubt the power of the refrigerator."
"Just a little." He thought for a minute. "Actually, a lot."
"I'll prove it to you. What do you want?"
Dan narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean, what do I want?"
"When I'm making requests, I want to ask for something specifically for you, so you'll believe it. So, what do you want?"
"I want you to stop acting like our refrigerator has magical powers."
"Oh ye of little faith."
"Oh ye of great psychosis."
***A MONTH PASSES WHILE NO ONE'S PAYING ATTENTION***
A cease-fire had been declared. Danny stopped voicing doubts about the wish-granting capabilities of the refrigerator, and Casey stopped trying to convince him of them. Casey secretly likened himself to Santa Claus. Dan secretly likened him to Jimmy Stewart in the movie about the six-foot rabbit no one else could see.
And then it was a Thursday night before a weekend Charlie would be there, and Dan was leaning on the kitchen counter again. "Do I need to make myself scarce this weekend?"
Dan was banned from the apartment when Lisa was there. There had been a regrettable incident not long after he and Casey moved in together, and now he was banned from the apartment when Lisa was there.
Casey shook his head and fumbled in the sinister reaches at the back of the refrigerator for a beer he thought he had seen there. "Nah, it's okay. Lisa says she's going to be in a rush when she brings Charlie by after after practice tomorrow. Says she probably won't even get out of the car."
Dan was in the process of launching into his familiar rant about Charlie's newly-discovered passion for soccer when he saw the terror and abhorrence on Casey's face. "Casey? Casey, what's wrong?" But Casey just kept pointing at the refrigerator and making weird choking noises. "Casey, what the hell is going on?" Dan demanded, starting to freak out.
"I -- I just--" Casey drew in a great gasping breath. "I just said Lisa's name into the refrigerator."
"Oh, God." Dan groaned and rolled his eyes. He put his hands on Casey's shoulders, trying to soothe him. "Casey! Casey, calm down. It's a refrigerator. Lisa isn't going to appear in our living room just because you said her name to the appliances."
Casey stopped shaking, but his expression, when he looked at Dan, was a mix of terror and determination that had Dan worried about the man's mental stability. "You'll see, Danny. You'll see when that door opens."
Dan took his hands away and walked out of the kitchen. "I'll see, you freakin' nut," he muttered. "And hopefully, you will, too."
**********
Dan jogged over to the intercom when it buzzed. "Good afternoon, Charles!"
For a moment he heard the clicks and hisses of the bad connection. Then, "Dan?"
Dan took a slow...step...backwards. "Lisa?"
"Are you going to buzz us in?"
"Uh. Yeah." He shook his head and pushed the button, then stood by the door waiting for them to come up, chewing his nails, regretting having quit smoking again, and urging Casey to hurry up in the damned bathroom. He opened the door the instant he heard the elevator open. "Hey, Charlie."
"Hey, Danny." Grinning, Charlie lugged his soccer gear into the living room, and Dan tried not to make a face.
He turned back to find Lisa looking at him demonically. "Well, thanks for dropping Charlie off," he said cheerfully. He started to shut the door, but she put her hand out to block it.
"Not so fast, Daniel. Where's Casey?"
"He's here."
"Where?"
"Bathroom." He make a twisty motion. "Changing a light bulb."
"I want to see him."
Dan nodded. "I appreciate that. The thing is, he's had a rough week, and--"
She took a step into the apartment and crossed her arms. "I'm not leaving until I see him."
"Casey!" he called, then glared at Lisa. "What? You don't trust me?"
She snorted. "Alone with Charlie? Not a chance in bloody hell."
"CASEY!" He turned back to Lisa. "There is absolutely no need for that--"
"What?" Casey called.
"Lisa's here." He lowered his voice. "--you conniving, manipulative--"
"Lisa?" Casey's voice quivered slightly.
"How dare you speak to me like that!" she hissed.
"Yes, Casey, Lisa."
"I am Charlie's mother, and I deserve--"
"What did I tell you, Danny? What did I tell you?"
"--respect."
"You're in my home, lady; you deserve jack." Her eyes started looking crazy, and he backed up. "Casey, never mind the damned refrigerator; just get out here!"
"I could have Casey's visitation rights revoked, you know," she said, advancing again. "There isn't a judge in the state who wouldn't declare this an unhealthy environment for a child."
If Dan took one more step backwards he'd be against the couch. He looked over his shoulder; Charlie had disappeared. "NOW, Casey!"
"Especially with you living here." Lisa leaned forward and poked him in the chest.
"Just a second, Dan; I--"
"Hey, Dad."
"You know," Dan said recklessly, desperately, "I'm a better parent to Charlie than you'll ever be!"
"What did you say?" Her voice was very quiet, and Dan started dreaming of a floor with an escape hatch.
"Hey, Charlie." Casey's voice drifted out from the bathroom. "I'm just about -- AAAARGH!!!!"
Everyone stopped.
Dan made a break for the bathroom. "Casey?"
"Dad, are you okay?"
"Casey!" Lisa exclaimed, right behind Dan. They piled into the bathroom behind Charlie, surveying the damage. Casey, a mere inch too short to unscrew the overhead light bulb and deeply mistrustful of Dan's step-ladder, had tumbled off the edge of the tub and split his chin on the corner of the sink. Blood gushed from the wound; his hands scrabbled frantically for purchase on any available support only to find that there was none; and his face was pale from shock and blood loss.
Dan started snickering.
"Wh-what on Earth?" Lisa demanded, but Charlie was laughing, too, as he and Dan stepped forward almost simultaneously to help Casey to his feet.
"I -- I don't mean to laugh, Casey," Danny insisted as tears streamed down his cheeks. "You just looked so...so..."
"Funny," Charlie said.
"I'm losing blood here," Casey pointed out, glaring between Dan and Charlie.
"Charlie, could you get your dad some ice?" As Charlie ran from the room, Dan wet a washcloth and put it to Casey's chin. "Come on. Let's get you to the hospital." Lisa followed them to the car, and Dan didn't protest or attempt to prevent her from climbing into the back seat with Charlie.
As Dan pulled the car out of the parking space, Casey leaned his head against the headrest, pressed the ersatz ice-pack more firmly to his chin, and asked, "Now, exactly what about my falling and almost dying did you two find so entertaining?"
Charlie giggled in the back seat, but Dan just smiled and said, "You were this, you know, insanely tall guy with his feet in the bathtub, his head in the sink, and everything else draped over the toilet. Tell me that's not funny."
Casey opened one eye and looked over at him. "Danny? That's not funny."
**********
At the ER, Dan went back with Casey while they sewed him up. Charlie wanted to come; he thought it'd be "cool" to see his dad get stitches, but Casey was reluctant to give him the image of his father with a needle stuck in his chin. Casey objected to the local anesthetic because he knew his lips and tongue would go numb, too, and he'd drool. "My ten-year-old son is out there," he protested. "He can't see me drool; it's unhip."
"Casey," Dan said reassuringly, putting his hand on Casey's shoulder, "it's okay. He already knows you're unhip."
Casey gave him that "very funny, Mr Funny-Guy" glare, but then he saw the needle they would be using and shut up about the anesthetic. Just before his entire lower jaw went numb and he commenced drooling, he looked at Dan and said, "I think it's time to get a new fridge."
Dan smiled and squeezed Casey's hand gently. "Anything you want, my man." Inside, where nothing showed, he was the image of a man dancing the happy dance.
***AND YET ANOTHER TWO WEEKS GO BY***
"I like it," Casey declared, appraising their new, magic-free refrigerator. "No more having to watch what I say around the appliances."
Dan smiled indulgently and wished for Casey to shut up.
"Yup," Casey went on, and Dan sighed. "Doesn't mediate disputes; doesn't make vocational decisions; doesn't conjure up ex-wives. Just...keeps things cold."
"Yes, indeed," Danny concurred, promising God anything -- anything -- if that could be the end of the conversation.
"And really," Casey said, and Dan crossed God off the holiday card list, "that's as it should be. Household appliances should...do what they do. Toast. Chill. Blend. And so forth. They shouldn't have magical powers. That's frankly ludicrous."
Dan sighed again and scratched his head. "You know, Case," he said, already regretting this yet unable to stop himself, "it was never the refrigerator. The refrigerator never did any of the things you give it credit for."
Casey's eyes popped. "You still don't believe? Dan, you saw Lisa with your own eyes -- saw her standing in our living room not 36 hours after I said her name into the thing."
Dan nodded and leaned his elbows on the counter. "I also saw five stitches put in your chin, and I'm sure no one asked for that."
With a sigh, Casey let the door of their blessedly mundane new kitchen appliance swing shut. "Anyway, it's over now."
"Yes," Dan said, smiling in relief. "It's over now."
**********
Right before they drifted off to sleep that night, Casey said, "Hey, Danny, what would you think about getting a toaster oven?"
Dan groaned and pulled the pillow over his head.
END