Dana looks at New York and thinks it can't be real. She could put her hand up to a taxi and watch it pass right through. She could walk around the back of a building and see that it's just a set piece.
She looks at Natalie and feels the same way.
It's not that she doubts Natalie's corporeal reality. Natalie had screamed across the office - while standing right next to Dana's ear - too many times for that. What she doubts is this thing between them. There was a moment tonight when the lighting in her office was softer than she remembers, another when the sound in Studio A was sharper, and buzzed more. She looked at Natalie in those moments and thought, Any minute now someone's going to yell 'Cut!' and Natalie's going to smile at me and say, 'You're a good actor, Dana.' They were moments wracked with self-doubt and general silliness, and thinking about them now, they annoy her a great deal.
It's the week before Christmas, and she and Natalie are shopping. They walk along the streets of Manhattan holding hands, and no one notices. They wouldn't be news on the cover of Sports Illustrated, not the way Dan and Casey would be. Dana can't decide whether to grip Natalie's hand extra-hard so she can't drift away, or to hold it lightly, so her own fingers don't go through.
"I'm thinking of getting Casey lederhosen for Christmas this year."
Dana sputters and looks over sharply. Natalie's peering at a pair of pearl drop earrings, through the glass of a very respectable jeweler known for its pendants and rings and general lack of Alpine leg wear. "You're...what?"
Natalie turns her head and grins up at Dana, and Dana's breath catches as the whole world seems suddenly to flare - unbearably, impossibly bright - and then blink out around them. Right at this moment, Natalie is real - and nothing else is. "Lederhosen."
"Gesundheit," Dana responds automatically. Natalie laughs, and the rest of the world flickers back into focus.
"Remember the year I drew Casey in the Secret Santa exchange and got him socks?"
"I remember hearing nothing from him but complaints about how you'd gotten him socks until almost President's Day."
"Yeah." Natalie pulls her along to the next store's display, mannequins so stylish Dana feels a little ashamed - and then a lot ashamed, once she realizes she's envying a piece of plastic. "It's kind of a running joke with us now. Every year for Christmas, I get him hosiery of some sort."
Dana blinks at her. "Hosiery," she repeats.
"Yeah," Natalie says.
"Casey?"
Natalie nods. "Yup."
"Big, tall, very male anchor-of-Sports Night Casey?"
Natalie laughs. "You know any others?"
"And you say you get him hosiery."
"Every year." Natalie moves on, and it takes her a few steps to realize that Dana's no longer keeping up. She stops and tilts her head the way she sometimes does when she's confused and doesn't have a clipboard to hide behind. "Dana? You okay?"
Dana is being overcome by hysterical chuckles, and she waves her hand to reassure Natalie, but she's obviously not doing such a good job, because Natalie's right up next to her, and now that she stops to think about it, she is having a little trouble breathing. She gets her airways back under control. "It's okay," she insists. "I was just having a little trouble with an image of Casey in red glittery fishnets."
"Wow," Natalie says, looking more than a little distressed.
"You see my problem," Dana says.
"Sure." Natalie nods and falls silent.
"Hey." Dana touches her cheek. "You okay?"
Natalie shakes her head. "No, I'm fine. I could have gone my entire life without hearing 'Casey' and 'fishnets' in the same sentence, but other than that I'm fine." And she flashes Dana that same dazzling smile, and Dana feels dizzy, like maybe she herself is the unreal part of the equation.
She doesn't realize she's swaying until she feels Natalie's hand on her arm. "Dana? Dana, what's wrong?"
She tries to answer, tries to regain her equilibrium, but the world is shining and false, and she's not sure where she can safely put a hand to stabilize herself. She grips Natalie - seems the safest course of action - and everything swims back to solidity. Pulling out a shaky smile, she assures Natalie, "I'm fine."
"You're fine?" Natalie peers up at her.
Dana nods. "Yes."
"You're absolutely certain you're fine."
"One hundred and ten percent," Dana says, nodding even more fervently, though it makes her head feel a little woozy.
"Good. Great." Natlalie is nodding, too. "I don't believe you."
And why hadn't Dana seen that one coming about a mile and a half away? Must be the ringing in her ears. She rolls her eyes. "I'm fine, Natalie. Look." She lets go of Natalie's arm and walks a slow, straight line down the sidewalk.
"All right, fine," Natalie says, slipping her hand back into Dana's. "But we're going home now."
Dana glances at her watch. "We're going back to the studio now. It's almost time for the eight o'clock run-down." She holds her wrist out to Natalie. "See? It's almost eight o'clock. Which means it's almost time for the eight o'clock run-down." She frowns. "Unless we're not doing the eight o'clock run-down at eight o'clock anymore?"
"Dana." Natalie holds her gaze. Her eyes are so bright they almost hurt Dana to look at. "Stop saying 'eight o'clock.'"
"Why?" Dana's forehead creases. "It's almost--"
"I know," Natalie says quickly. "Stop anyway. We're going home."
"We're going back to the studio," Dana insists. "We have a show to produce."
Natalie looks off into the night, and Dana holds her breath. She's having the strangest moment of disorientation; she can't remember if Natalie's really in love with her or if she just dreams that because she's so in love with Natalie. When Natalie looks back at her, she has that resolved look that has never once been overruled. Not by Dana, anyway. She reminds herself to ask Jeremy if he was ever able to - and then remembers that she and Jeremy have an unspoken agreement never to discuss the fact that she is now dating Jeremy's ex.
"We're going back to the studio," Natalie says as though it's what she's been arguing all along. "But we're going home right after. No drinks at Anthony's, no impromptu parties at Kim's place, no standing in Isaac's office for an hour after the show arguing about whatever it is you two argue about in there." She peers intently at Dana, as though she can't quite see her. Dana wonders if she's fading out again. "Got it?"
Dana nods and smiles and Natalie. "Got it." Natalie smiles back, relieved, and steers them back towards CSC. They walk silently for about a block, and then Dana asks, "Lederhosen?"
(~(~)~)
Dana looks around the table and smiles at her team. She loves them all. None of them are real, but that doesn't matter; she loves them anyway.
"Casey, you're going to be forty seconds long in the 20s." Natalie has taken over the rundown. Dana's okay with that. "Take it from the Spurs and the MLS trades."
"Done." Casey looks over at Dana. "Are you all right, Dana?"
She smiles at him. Maybe she's supposed to say something to him, but she can't think what. She smiles wider and just shrugs.
"She's fine," Natalie says sharply.
"You sure?" Jeremy's looking at Dana now, too. "Because she really doesn't look fine."
"She's fine."
"In fact," Dan adds, and Dana giggles as she realizes that they're all staring at her now, "she looks a little bit stoned."
"She's fine, Danny, everybody," Natalie snaps. Dana laughs harder.
"What's funny?" Jeremy asks.
"You guys. Talking about me like I'm not sitting right here." She takes off her glasses and gestures grandly with them. "And you know what else is funny? How hard I'm going to kick your asses for it in just a minute."
Dan and Casey exchange one of their we've-been-best-friends-since-mall-bangs-were-cool looks and then turn back to her, smirking. "You sure about that, Dana?" Dan asks.
"Because looking at you right now," Casey adds, "I don't think you'd have the strength to kick an empty pop can across the room."
"Pop." Dana chuckles and points her glasses at him. "Casey still says 'pop.'"
Shaking his head, Casey points at Natalie. "She is not fine."
"I'm noticing." Natalie's mouth is set in a grim line. "Hey, Dana, why don't you come with me for a while? We'll get you all stretched out on the couch in your office, and you can sleep until the show starts."
Dana grabs Natalie's hand and tugs her down so her ear is right next to Dana's mouth. "Are you going to stretch out with me?" she whispers.
Casey and Dan and someone else - probably Dave - snigger. Natalie blushes. "Anything you want, Dana," she says.
"Good." Dana puts her glasses on, pushes her chair back, and stands, keeping her hands on the edge of the table. "Just as soon as I kick Dan and Casey's asses."
"Dana--" Dan says, his eyes pleading with her. She always knew he was afraid of her.
"You first, Rydell," she says, pulling her hands away from the table and making playful sparring motions at him. "Come on, baby. You and me. Mano a - whoops!" She's not sure where the floor came from all of a sudden. But it's much more comfortable than she'd expected.
(~(~)~)
Dana's not at home. At least, she's almost certain she's not at home. Because, sure, sometimes she does things with the decorating scheme in her apartment and then forgets she's done it until she walks into a chair or trips over an end table, but she's pretty sure she would've remembered adding side rails to her bed.
She was having a bizarre dream, she remembers that. She and Natalie were shopping - she and Natalie were lovers - and they were shopping for...lederhosen? She laughs, and then groans, because laughing hurts.
"Dana?" Natalie's hovering next to her bed.
She looks around. There's a curtain around the bed, and the sound of a lot of bustle behind it. "What happened?"
"You passed out after the rundown." Natalie pulls a chair up next to the bed and sits down beside Dana. "You had me really worried." She reaches up and takes Dana's hand in both of her own, squeezing gently.
And Dana remembers - that wasn't a dream. She and Natalie are together; they were shopping for lederhosen. Natalie is real; they are real. Somewhere outside of this emergency room, buildings and cabs and the rest of the Sports Night team might even be real. Lifting her free hand to Natalie's face, she whispers, "I love you."
Natalie grins and leans into the touch. "I love you, too."
She looks around her curtained enclosure. "So, what's wrong with me?"
"You caught the bug that's going around." Natalie brushes Dana's hair off her forehead. "The one Casey had last week."
Dana nods. That explains why everything's been so wavy, then. It's almost a disappointment. She liked the idea that she was falling in and out of dimensions. It made her feel almost magical. Letting her head drop back onto the pillow, Dana yawns. She's exhausted. "I'll kick his ass."
"He caught it from Charlie."
"Then I'll kick his ass, too. And Dan's."
Startled, Natalie laughs. "Why Dan's?"
Dana shrugs. "General principle. Guilt by association." Her eyes are drifting shut.
"Get some sleep, Dana." Natalie leans over and kisses her cheek.
"You'll still be real when I wake up?" she murmurs.
"Yes, Dana," Natalie says, soothing her. "I'll be right here when you wake up."
'That's not what I said,' Dana wants to protest, but she's done fighting sleep. She slips away and dreams of a dream of Natalie, and of New York.
END