Fandom: Sports Night
Summary: Dan's proportionate and there is no Tahiti.
Danny was being quiet. Unreasonably quiet. In fact, Danny hadn't said a word since he'd wandered into the office looking dazed, and sat down at his desk staring at his computer. He wasn't writing, so much as frowning at his belt, which must have in some way offended him, because from where Casey was sitting, that looked like a pretty formidable frown.
"What did it do?" Casey asked, crossing his arms.
Danny looked up, confused. "Huh?"
"The belt," Casey said, pointing, "what did it do? You've been glaring at it for about twenty minutes now. Must be pretty serious."
Dan opened his mouth, as if to speak, but then closed it, shook his head. "Nothing."
"Nothing?" Casey echoed, dubious. "Because apparently 'nothing' and 'something' seem pretty similar with you, so I'm just checking."
"It's nothing," Danny said again, holding up his hands. "This is not something, it's nothing, and if it was something it would look nothing like nothing because it would be something."
Casey blinked. "The fact that I understood that sentence strikes fear into my heart."
"It was a perfectly clear sentence," Dan protested. "It said just what I meant."
"Which is even more terrifying," Casey shot back. Danny glared at him, and Casey pointed. "That's the same look you were giving your belt earlier."
"It's nothing!" Dan half-shouted. "Not a thing! It's no thing! There's not a thing here!"
"There's a thing here," Casey argued, narrowing his eyes and tapping a finger on his desk. "I can smell it."
Danny gave him a disgusted look. "What are you, a thing hunter now?"
"Yes, yes I am," Casey told him, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms. "I am a champion hunter of things, and my friend, there is most definitely a thing here. In fact, the thing that's here is huge, and it reeks - it reeks of huge thingitude and - "
"Wardrobe says I'm fat," Dan interrupted. "That's it. That's the thing."
"Ha! I knew there was a thing," Casey crowed triumphantly, leaning forward.
Rolling his eyes, Danny crossed his arms. "Yes, you're very intuitive."
"Yes, I am," Casey said proudly before frowning. "They said you were fat?"
"Yup," Dan told him.
Casey stood, and walked around the front of his desk, perching on the edge. "They literally said that to you. They said, 'Mr. Rydell, you're fat'?" he asked.
"They call you by your last name?" Danny asked, brow crinkling. "They never do that with me. It must be because you're taller. Do you think it's because you're taller?"
"Did they actually *say* fat, Dan?" Casey persisted.
"Not in so many words," he waffled.
Casey shook his head. "What were the actual words they used?"
"What, you want the precise verbage?"
"Yes," Casey told Dan, with a heavy sigh, "the precise verbage."
Looking down, Dan shuffled his feet. "I think it was something along the lines of 'Those pants don't fit you anymore. We're going to have to go up a size.'"
Casey stared at him for a long minute, shaking his head. "And from this you got fat?"
"I felt that it was implied," Dan protested.
"There's nothing implied other than you need a bigger size of pants," Casey shot back, gesturing dismissively.
"Another size up. A size bigger than the size I used to wear, to fit around my bigger waist," Danny muttered, turning back to his computer.
Casey rolled his eyes. "You're not fat," he said.
Danny's head whipped around. "You don't think so?"
"No, I don't," Casey assured him, hastily. "I think you're exactly the right size for your shape. You're very proportionate."
"Proportionate," Dan repeated, staring. "You think I'm proportionate."
"It's a good thing!" Casey quickly added. "You've got a very...solid physique."
"Case, when you find yourself in a hole the best thing to do is stop digging," Dan advised him tiredly.
"Oh, Christ." Casey threw his hands up in the air with a sigh. "This is going to be a thing, isn't it?"
Snorting, Dan shook his head. "I thought you said it was already a thing."
"It is! My point is that it *shouldn't* be a thing."
"Well it's a thing all right," Dan said, pushing himself up and leaning across his desk. "It's a big, stinking thing and since you wanted to talk about it, we're talking about it."
"What if I don't want to talk about it any more?" Casey asked, hopefully. "What if I say that it's *not* a thing now."
Danny shook his head vigorously. "Nope, sorry, no can do, doesn't work that way. You, champion thing hunter, called this a thing and you were right, Casey. I already admitted that. You're right right right."
"But you're *not* fat!" Casey yelled. "You're nowhere near fat! You're not even stocky!"
"That's not what wardrobe says," Dan replied.
"You're not fat but you're insane!" Casey gesticulated wildly. "And you're making *me* insane!"
"Let's face it, Case, I'm getting old. Losing my sex appeal," he said, shaking his head sadly and straightening. "If you and me were married? You'd be sleeping with some trashy blonde secretary."
"Okay, first off, it's 'if you and *I* were married', secondly, we're not and thirdly, I would *not* be sleeping with the secretary, blonde or otherwise, and am I the only one in this room who fully grasps the absurdity of this conversation?" Casey glared at him. "And, wait a minute, I'm older than you are!"
"Yes, but you've got that whole tall, willowy, Nordic thing going on," Dan said, looking Casey up and down. "I bet your secretary would be named Cindi with an 'i'. I hate women whose names end in 'i'."
"I'm *willowy*?" Casey spat. "Willowy?"
"Fine, lithe, whatever, the point is," Dan said, waving a hand dismissively, "that you're still hot and I'm short and dumpy and you and Cindi are out the door to Tahiti on a 'business' trip and there's lipstick on your collar and I can read the writing on the wall, Casey. You and me, we're over, kaput, no more, and why? Because I've gone up a pants size."
"I am never letting you go to wardrobe unsupervised again!" Casey exploded. "Not ever! Those people drive you nuts! And, hey - where's the trust here? I would *never* go to Tahiti with my secretary and none of that matters because there is no marriage and there is no Cindi and there is no Tahiti!" Dan opened his mouth to respond but Casey held up his hand to forestall the argument. "Yes, yes I know that there *is* a Tahiti, but I was just trying to make the point that you've gone so far around the bend that you can't even see it any more."
"Oh, that's easy for you to say," Dan retorted, "you tall drink of water, you."
Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Casey closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "All right. Let's take this thing point by point," he said, keeping his voice level with an effort. He looked to Dan, waiting until Dan waved his hand encouragingly.
"Point the first: You, Dan Rydell, are not fat, despite whatever false and malicious things you may feel are implied by certain wardrobe mishaps. You are not losing your sex appeal. In fact, you're a very attractive man. You've got boatloads of sex appeal. You've got enough sex appeal for ten men. I mean, you've got those eyes, and that mouth that does that thing with the lower lip, and you are definitely not, in any way, dumpy, though you may or may not be short. Point the second: if we were to be married, I would not, could not cheat on you. Point the third: I have better taste than to run off to Tahiti with a woman named 'Cindi with an 'i' - "
"What thing does my lower lip do?" Dan asked.
Casey blinked, froze, mouth working. "I...it kind of trembles, a little, from time to time. It's…ah. You know, you've got that working for you on the sex appeal thing."
Dan grinned suddenly. "Oh."
"Oh what?" Casey asked, suspicious.
"Nothing," Dan assured him, grin widening. "Please, go on. Point by point."
Casey heaved a sigh. "You're going make me do the thing hunter bit again, aren't you?"
He looked down for a moment, the grin still on his face, and then looked up at Casey through his eyelashes. "You think I'm sexy," Danny stated matter of fact.
"You think I'm lithe," Casey shot back. "You don't see me grinning like a fool."
"Well," Danny replied slowly, coming around his desk to stand directly across from Casey. "Maybe you should be."
Casey studied Dan's face, and slow smile teased the corners of his lips out until his grin was as wide as Dan's. "Yeah?" he murmured.
"Oh yeah," Dan replied, stepping forward.
"We have a glass office," Casey reminded him. "And your lip is doing that thing again."
"The thing you think is sexy," Dan said.
Casey nodded. "That'd be the one."
"Do you know what I'd do if we didn't have a glass office?" Danny asked him, bracing his hands against the desk on both sides of Casey's hips.
"No," Casey breathed, "but I get the feeling that if you do tell me I'm going to forget about the fact that we are completely visible on all sides to those around us so maybe that's something you should sit on until later and please don't make the pun, Dan. You're a better man than that."
"Am I?" Dan teased, eyes twinkling. "Am I really?"
"No, I was just hoping to prevail upon some scrap of dignity in you," Casey replied, eyes locked with his partner's. "Hey, Danny?"
"Does this mean the whole fat thing is over now?"
Raising an eyebrow in mock threat Dan pretended to think about it as he craftily copped a quick feel of Casey's ass before stepping back. "For now," he said finally, "but if I ever see you talking to a blonde named Cindi..."
The first pad of post-it notes Casey threw at Dan missed, but the second one didn't.