They Say What They Say

Title: Tadasana
Author: Laylee
Pairing: Dan/Casey implied
Summary: Dan's keeping a secret and Natalie wants to know why.
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Not mine
Note: Just a little bit of fluff that came out of nowhere. Many thanks to phoebesmum for the beta.



"Don't you find it weird?" Natalie asked.

"No, I don't," Jeremy replied, and returned to eating his sandwich.

"Every Thursday…"

"Natalie…"

"Every Thursday," Natalie persisted, "Dan disappears at four o'clock for an hour and a half. When he comes back, he looks flushed and kind of…"

"Sweaty?" Jeremy offered.

"You're not taking this seriously," Natalie said accusingly.

"No kidding."

Jeremy had whisked Natalie off to the green room to have lunch with her and spend time talking to his girlfriend about things that didn't involve work, not talk about whatever it was Dan was doing on Thursday afternoons that apparently left him flushed and kind of sweaty.

"He usually has lunch around four o'clock," Jeremy offered. "Maybe he's going out to eat."

"He's not going out for lunch," Natalie insisted. "Because he always grabs a sandwich from the craft services table before the six o'clock rundown. If he'd had lunch he wouldn't be hungry."

"Have you considered that, whatever he's doing, he may not feel like sharing?"

Natalie narrowed her eyes at him. Everyone at Sports Night knew the rules about sharing, and if they didn't she soon saw to it that they did.

"Okay," Jeremy said slowly, backtracking a little. "Have you actually asked him about it, or are you just going by what you and Dana have cooked up over the water cooler?"

For that he got thwapped in the head.

"Here's a crazy suggestion," Jeremy said, as he rubbed the back of his head. "Why don't you ask him?"

"He's not going to tell me," Natalie scoffed. "This is why I have to sneak around behind his back."

"Yeah, that'll get you somewhere," Jeremy muttered and took another bite of his sandwich.

~*~*~

Casey wasn't quite sure why Natalie had pounced on him in the editing room, but he had a nasty feeling that if he didn't have the right answer, the result would involve him doing the show sans trousers that night.

"Look, Natalie, I wish I could help you…"

"Every Thursday at four o'clock," she said again.

"Every Thursday at four o'clock, what?"

She rolled her eyes. "Aren't you listening to me?"

"I'm trying to edit tape," he said, making a sweeping gesture toward the editing machine.

"Every Thursday at four o'clock," Natalie said for the third time, "Dan disappears for an hour and a half, and he comes back looking flushed and kind of sweaty. Doesn't that strike you as a little odd?"

"No, not particularly."

"Aren't you the least bit curious about what he's doing?"

"No, I'm not. And you know why?"

"Why?"

"Because it's every man's right to have at least one secret in his life, that's why."

"But you're his partner, he tells you everything."

"Not everything."

Natalie widened her eyes and gave him a dubious look.

"Okay, nearly everything," Casey amended. "We're really not joined at the hip, you know," he added.

"Despite the fact that you work together, practically live together, and spend most of your free time together?"

Casey would have thrown something at her if he was the sort of guy who threw things at girls.

"Look, Natalie, I really can't help you. Contrary to popular belief, Danny doesn't tell me every thought that runs through his head, and I don't expect him to. I honestly have no idea about what he's doing on Thursday afternoons, and until he tells me I'm not going to ask. Maybe he's learning how to tap dance or something."

"He's learning how to tap dance?"

"It's a hypothesis," Casey pointed out. "Dan's not learning how to tap dance."

"That you know of," Natalie replied. "Because obviously he's sneaking around behind both our backs."

"He's not sneaking around," Casey insisted.

"Then how come you have no idea what he does every Thursday afternoon for an hour and a half?"

Casey really had nothing to say to that.

"I will find out," Natalie said.

"I have no doubt that you will."

"And if I find out that you've been keeping secrets…"

"Which I haven't…"

"Which you claim you haven't, then punishment will ensue."

Of that, Casey had no doubt.

~*~*~

Dan adjusted his seat on the couch. "Six hundred thousand dollars."

"I heard you the first time."

"Joe DiMaggio's rookie uniform is expected to fetch six hundred thousand dollars when it's auctioned at the weekend."

Casey gazed at Dan over the top of the computer monitor. "Are we going to be talking about this all night? Because there's only so many times I can hear you say the words 'six hundred thousand dollars' before I feel the need to render you unconscious with a blunt instrument."

"Six hundred thousand dollars," Dan said again, ignoring Casey's groan of frustration. "That's, like, enough to feed an obscure African nation for the next year. Someone is going to spend a huge sum of money, a sum of money that could potentially keep millions of people from starvation, on what is essentially a second-hand baseball uniform, Casey. Don't you find that bizarre?"

"What I find bizarre is the fact that you're still obsessing over a news story we did two days ago."

Dan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and drew in a deep breath.

"It's always going to be about the money, Danny," Casey said before his partner could launch into a now familiar rant. "And yes, it's obscene, and even though we hate it, there's not much we can do about it, except remind them every now and then of what really matters."

Dan looked up at Casey with a slightly bitter twist to his mouth. Casey gave him a helpless shrug and then tossed a wadded-up ball of paper at his partner. "Get to work, you doofus."

Finally smiling a little, Dan batted the paper away and shifted from the couch. But instead of returning to the laptop that was set up on the table, he crossed over to the bookcase where he grabbed Babbette and began ruffling her fur. "So, here's the thing."

"What thing?"

"The thing that could potentially see us doing the show in our underwear. Again."

Casey abandoned all pretence of working on his script and stood up.

"You've been talking to Natalie, haven't you?" Casey asked, leaning against the desk.

"I've been talking to Natalie," Dan admitted and resumed his seat on the couch.

Casey offered him an encouraging look, hoping to get the rest of the story out of him before they were both old enough to retire. Dan said nothing and continued to fondle the llama.

"Dude..."

"The thing is, it's not something I really want to talk about," Dan said, as though they were already in the middle of the conversation.

"I understand." Casey knew all about trying and failing to keep secrets around this office. He moved to the couch, pushing Ceazar out of the way and sitting next to Dan.

"But you know what Natalie's like when she gets a bee in her bonnet," Dan continued.

"She's like a dog with a bone."

"A cat chasing after a mouse."

"A hound on the scent."

"Like a dog with a bone."

Casey gently nudged Dan in the ribs. "I've already said that."

"It bears repeating."

"Indeed it does."

Casey slumped into the couch and waited.

"It was Abby's idea," Dan said eventually.

"What was?"

Dan snorted, smiled a little and muttered something.

"I didn't quite catch that," Casey said, leaning forward again.

"Yoga," Dan said and flushed. "I've been doing yoga, okay? And before you say it…"

"I wasn't going to say anything!"

"Before you say it, no, it's not something I ever expected I'd be doing, but then again I never expected I'd be seeing a therapist either, so there you go."

Casey looked at him sideways, and tried not to laugh. "Yoga?"

"Yes."

"With the 'Oms' and the meditation and the twisting yourself into a pretzel?"

"Yes, Casey, that's exactly it."

That was it. Casey started to laugh. "Oh, man…"

Still clutching Babbette, Dan launched himself off the couch. "I never liked you."

"This was Abby's idea?"

"She thought it would help me relax; work off some tension." Dan looked thoughtful for a moment, then laughed as well. "Man, you have no idea how hard it is."

"Hard? Yoga is hard?"

"It's not all breathing and navel gazing, Casey. Dan Reeves has got nothing on Vija."

"Vija?"

"My yoga instructor.

"Your yoga instructor is called Vija?"

"Did I not say that? And believe me when I tell you she'd make a linebacker cry."

"Jesus."

"Exactly."

"So, has it helped?" Casey asked, sobering a little.

Dan shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. That thing with my back sure feels better."

Casey had to admit, Dan did seem a little more – limber of late.

"And this is what you do on Thursday afternoons?" Casey asked.

"The studio's the next block over. They have a beginners' class on Thursdays so I thought I'd give it a go and see what happened."

"You enjoy it?"

"Yeah, I do. I don't have to think, you know? Just be. It's good."

"I'm glad, Danny."

"You are?" Dan asked, looking faintly surprised.

"You deserve to be happy. And if an hour of navel gazing is what makes you happy…"

Dan threw the llama at him.

~*~*~

"I thought this was supposed to be easy," Natalie hissed at Dan as they levered themselves into Downward Dog.

"I never said it was easy," Dan hissed back.

"Now hold the pose, feeling the energy flow through you," Vija said to the class.

Natalie could feel her arms begin to tremble as her calf muscles protested loudly at the unaccustomed stretching. From this position she could see that that the nail polish on her toes badly needed redoing, and her legs sure could do with a wax.

"Now we move through into the Plank and on into Urdhva Mukha Svanasana," Vija said as she moved around the room, adjusting everyone's poses until they were just right.

Natalie strained and pushed her body in ways she was sure it was never meant to be pushed. Sweat beaded her brow and the back of her neck, and her limbs were starting to feel rubbery from the exertion. But at the same time it felt strangely good, and when Vija finally gave them a break and they were getting ready for relaxation, she'd already half made up her mind to come again next week.

Later that evening she cornered Dan in the conference room and said, "Okay, just this once."

"Just this once, what?" Dan asked, looking confused.

"Just this once I'm going to let it go."

"Let what go?"

"The fact that you've been keeping secrets."

Dan grinned at her. "You enjoyed the class, didn't you?"

"It was okay," Natalie said evasively.

Dan grinned at her a little more so she thwaped him up-side of the head.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"Punishment, Danny," Natalie replied, and walked away.

FIN

Note: Joe DiMaggio's uniform was passed in at auction when it failed to meet the minimum price required for sale.

More information about the various yoga poses mentioned can be found here. After consideration, phoebesmum and I both decided that Dan would wear shorts and a t-shirt to his yoga class, but this is always a possibility ;~)