FIC: Small Town 1/7 (Sports Night AU)

[ashinae]

Small Town: A Sports Night AU - chapter 1
by ashinae and linden_jay
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7


Breakfast.

Food would be a good idea. Dan rolled over and hugged his pillow. Mike was gone--long gone--was his name even Mike? Maybe it was Mark. Or Mickey. Marcus? Matthew. Ah, who knows.

He rolled over again, blinked at the ceiling, then sat up in bed, running a hand over his head. He needed a haircut. He needed a shower. He needed breakfast. He reached over the side of the bed, grabbed his boxers, and pulled them on before padding barefoot out of his room.

The hardwood was getting colder. Almost that time of year now where he'd have to put on socks in the morning. How tragic. He yawned, rubbed at his face, and then stopped dead in the doorway to the kitchen.

"You're wearing my shirt."

"Excuse me?" She turned away from the cupboard and looked at him.

"You're wearing my shirt, Sally," said Dan, staring at her. She was in his kitchen. She was holding his instant oatmeal. His coffee mug was on the counter. And she was wearing his sweater and apparently not much else.

"I thought you'd still be sleeping," she said.

"You're wearing my shirt."

She looked at him archly. "Should I take it off?" she said, hands going to the hem of the shirt.

He covered his head and closed his eyes, as if he was suddenly being attacked by bats. "Agh! No, no, keep it on!"

"Don't be so juvenile," she chastised him, as though she was his mother. He could just imagine her rolling her eyes at him. So he did the only thing a reasonable adult would do:

"Casey!" he yelled.

It took him a few moments longer than Dan would probably have liked, but Casey showed up in the kitchen eventually. Looking like he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, his hair still wet from the shower. Plus, there was the whole towel wrapped around the waist thing.

Dan stared at him for a moment, just a moment, of hesitation before he pointed accusingly at Sally. "She's wearing my sweater!"

Casey looked rather like he'd prefer to be anywhere in the world except in the kitchen with Dan and Sally in that moment. "She couldn't have known it was yours, Danny," he said, somewhat awkwardly, then turned to Sally, giving her a bit of a Look while Dan couldn't see his expression. "I thought you were going home," he said, the casualness of his voice not really matching his face.

"I'm having breakfast," she said.

"Eat someone else's food," Dan muttered, snatching away the box of peaches and cream instant oatmeal and clutching it to his chest.

Sally shot Casey a look in return. "You put up with him?" she asked, nothing but amusement in her voice.

He just sighed and went to the cupboard for a mug. No one could be expected to put up with this without coffee. "Danny, didn't your mother teach you to share?" Casey said.

"Yes, she did," Dan said, "but Mom isn't here right now."

"Thank God for that," Casey muttered, pouring a huge mug of coffee.

Dan huffed. "She's still wearing my sweater, Casey."

"Oh for..." Casey set down his coffee cup and walked out of the kitchen, coming back a few moments later with a very battered Montreal Canadiens jersey. "Go change," he said, handing it to Sally, then softening his tone before she could hurt him. "Please go change," he said, giving her a kiss after he said it. Not looking at Dan.

She took the kiss like a lady, took the jersey like a lady, and walked away back to Casey's room to change.

Dan scowled and put his peaches and cream oatmeal back in the cupboard. It was tainted now. "Sally," he said.

Casey closed his eyes and sighed, then opened them again and went to reclaim his coffee. "Yes."

"Sally," Dan said. "You slept with Sally?"

"Danny, could you please... she's just in my room, which is just over there!" Casey hissed. As though Dan didn't know where his room was.

"You slept with Sally," Dan said, accusingly, though he did drop his voice. "Couldn't you have just slept with Alyson again?"

He took a sip of his coffee, then set it down quickly, eyes watering in pain as he swallowed. "You told me if I slept with Alyson again, you'd lock me in our office and never let me out."

"I'd rather you slept with Alyson again than have you sleeping with Sally the scary lawyer."

"She's not scary!" Casey protested in a loud whisper.

"She's an ambulance chaser!"

"We only have one ambulance, Dan," Sally said, smoothly, coming back into the kitchen wearing the jersey. It left little to the imagination. "It's not difficult to find. And I do not chase it."

"And this is why we don't talk about people behind their backs, Daniel," Casey said, picking up his coffee again. "They tend to come back into the room again."

"You know what? I'm going to go back to bed." Never mind that his stomach was growling loud enough for both Sally and Casey to hear.

"Why, did you leave Martin tied up in there?" Okay, that was a little bitchy. More the tone than the words, but even for Casey, it was a bit snarky.

"Matthew!" Dan shot back, and then his door slammed shut.

"I thought his name was Mark," Sally said, pulling down the oatmeal again and fishing out a packet.

"I don't care what his name is," Casey muttered, ears still ringing from the slam of Danny's door. He took a deep breath and tried his coffee again. Not quite so lethal--good. "I thought you had to work early."

"Yes, I do," she said.

"Okay, then," Casey said, wondering if he looked as awkward as he felt. "Back to handing out cards at the hospital to people wearing neck braces?"

"That's not funny, Casey," she said, as she filled the kettle.

Casey clearly wasn't going to win today. He took down a bowl from the cupboard and placed it in front of Sally as a ceramic peace offering.

"Why thank you," she said, crisply. "Do you want oatmeal, too?"

It was Danny's oatmeal. "No thanks, I've got coffee, I'm good," he said, giving her a spoon too, then going to sit at the table.

"You should eat breakfast," she said. She leaned back against the counter as the waited for the water in the kettle to boil, long, long legs crossed at the ankle out in front of her. "It'll keep up your stamina."

Casey leaned back against the chair, distracted by her legs. "You didn't have any complaints about my stamina last night."

"Did you eat breakfast yesterday morning?" she asked, a little smile twitching at the corner of her lips.

A pause from Casey. "Maybe," he admitted, hiding a grin of his own.

"You see? Make yourself a piece of toast, Casey."

"You sure a piece of toast is going to be enough?" he asked, getting up and going to stand in front of her, hands resting against the counter on either side of her hips.

She lifted her arms and wrapped them around his neck. "Maybe not," she said. "You might need eggs."

He stayed where he was for a few moments, starting to lean in to kiss her, then pulled back, unwrapping her arms from around his neck. "Not out here," he murmured. "Dan's home."

She sighed. "Then back to your room?" she suggested.

"I have to work... you have to work," he reminded her.

"Then after work," she said. "I'll pick you up."

"I'll be done before you are," Casey said, then kept going after a moment or two. "I'll meet you back here?"

"I can be here by seven-thirty."

Casey nodded. "I'll be here," he said, taking a step back after another moment. "I need to get dressed."

"So do I," she said. "But there should be breakfast first."

"Right," Casey said. "Breakfast. Stamina."

"Exactly."

*

The night before

"Casey, you need to stop," said Dan, shaking his head. "This is embarrassing."

"It takes me a few rounds to get warmed up--this time, her ass is mine," Casey insisted.

"Oh, in your dreams," Dana said, laughing as she pulled her darts from the board.

"Casey," said Dan, "please stop. I think Dana now officially owns our house, and she can't come in because you haven't cleaned the bathroom in three weeks."

"If I haven't cleaned the bathroom it's because there's a mound of towels barring me from making it in the door," Casey shot back at Dan, pointing at him with his own handful of darts.

Jeremy snorted softly, looking up from the equations he was scribbling on a napkin.

"You're full of lies," Dan said, lifting his chin.

"I dried off with a facecloth this morning!"

"Casey, do you own more than two towels?" Jeremy asked, peeking up from his napkin again.

"Hey! Whose side are you on anyway?" Casey pointed his darts at Jeremy this time.

"Side? I have no side. I'm Switzerland in this particular discussion," Jeremy said, hands raised.

"Remember who signs your paycheques, Jeremy," Dana said ominously, stepping back and aiming, putting a dart just to the left of the bulls-eye.

"I'm on Natalie's side," Jeremy said immediately. "Natalie, whose side are you on?"

"Dana's," Natalie said without thought.

"That's my girl," said Dana with a grin that was just this side of evil. The second dart landed just above the first.

"I know how to pick a winner." Natalie was very proud of herself.

"I am really not feeling the love here, Natalie," Casey protested.

"Do you sign my paycheques?" Natalie asked.

"I get you limited edition Olympic merchandise."

She looked thoughtful. "I may have to move to Switzerland. I hear it's very nice this time of year."

"Natalie!" Dana looked horribly betrayed.

"Limited edition Olympic merchandise."

Dana stared at her.

"I'm going to be working a lot of closing shifts for the next little while, aren't I?"

"You bet you are."

"If it helps?" Jeremy started, leaning over and showing Natalie what he'd been working on, "I've been calculating the probability of Casey ever beating Dana at a game of darts, and while it's still possible, it's really not probable, based on the math."

"Dude!"

"Math doesn't lie, Casey, I'm sorry."

"I love it when you're nerdy," Natalie said with a sigh, looking across at Jeremy.

"Please, you'd love it if he wore a paper sack and sang showtunes," Dan scoffed.

"Probably," Natalie agreed, then suddenly elbowed Dan.

"Ow," he protested.

"Look!" She pointed across the bar, to a particularly good-looking man placing an order.

"Oh," said Dan.

"Uh huh."

"If everyone will excuse me," said Dan, rising to his feet. "Wish me luck."

"Good luck," said Natalie with a grin.

Casey scowled impressively at Dan's back. "So much for moral support," he muttered, sighing dramatically to cover. "Jeremy, that makes you my wingman."

"I'm your wingman?"

"You're my wingman."

"You do know that I'm seeing Natalie, right?" Jeremy said, peering up at Casey. "I don't know if I can still be a wingman if I'm not single. I think there are rules."

"Wow, Jeremy, you're seeing Natalie? I didn't know that. I mean, you're both so subtle about it that I think you've kept that fact entirely under wraps," Casey deadpanned.

Jeremy narrowed his eyes at Casey and went back to his napkin.

"Play nice," Dana chastised, tugging out her darts, then recording her score. "It's your turn."

Across the room, the particularly handsome man that Dan had approached was laughing; Dan stood beside him, leaning casually against the bar, and grinning his most charming grin.

Casey moved into position in front of the dart board, distracted by Dan and whatsisname. "Who is that guy? I can't remember his name... is it Martin?"

"Mark," Jeremy supplied. "Or possibly Marvin."

"Matt," said Natalie. Then she frowned a little. "Mike?"

"Martin," said Dana. "He likes Dan. A lot."

Another scowl from Casey, as he focused in on the dart board and threw his first dart. Definitely not imagining he was aiming at Matt-Mike-Martin's head.

"Throw that with a little more force next time, Casey," Dana said, half-serious, half-teasing. "Maybe you can get it through to the laundromat."

"Ha. Ha." Casey squinted again and threw... with slightly less force. Maybe.

"Those are actually pretty good," Jeremy said, looking down at his calculations. "Casey seems to be bringing his A game."

Natalie peered down at the napkin, resting her head on his shoulder. "Huh." She pointed. "So if they keep playing another how many rounds, Casey might win?"

"According to this... wow. Triple digits."

"Hey!" Casey protested, back to throwing darts with his former force.

"Casey, you're supposed to get the dart on the board, not the cork surrounding the board," Natalie pointed out.

"Thank you, Natalie, that's extremely good advice," Casey said, using more than the usual amount of sarcasm.

"Don't take that tone with me," Natalie said. "It's not my fault that longshoremen find Dan irresistible."

"What? Don't be ridiculous!" Casey said, giving Natalie a look, then turning back to the board, taking his time aiming.

"You know, you could have all told me that Dan was gay, instead of leaving it for me to find out myself," Jeremy said. Not for the first time.

"Everybody knows Dan's gay, sweetie," said Natalie.

"I didn't! I set him up with my sister!"

There was laughter from behind them as Kim arrived. "That was pretty funny."

"Not to mention that the two of you are always all over each other."

"Dan makes a very comfortable chair," Kim explained

"I think I vaguely remember that," Natalie said. "Dana, do you vaguely remember that?"

"Yes, indeed I do." Dana nudged Casey out of her way with her hip and put a dart in the bulls-eye.

"That's my girl!" Natalie exclaimed, raising her arms in victory on Dana's behalf.

"Okay, it was not your turn!" Unless Casey'd lost count.

"Yes, it was, because there was no point in you finishing your turn," said Dana.

"I'm not done yet! I can still win this one!"

"Three digits, Casey."

"That's enough out of you, Jeremy!"

"Don't snap at Jeremy," Natalie snapped. "It's not his fault Dan's irresistible to longshoremen, either."

"This has nothing to do with longshoremen!"

"Even though this one has his tongue down Dan's throat?" Jeremy said helpfully.

Just before Casey fired off his next dart, while turning to look.

There was a cry of horror; the dart went way off-course and landed on a table, right next to Elliott's hand. "Casey!" It was also not his fault that Dan was irresistible to longshoremen.

"Casey!" Kim punched him in the arm. "Just how am I supposed to sail without Elliott?" she demanded.

"I... he... Jeremy... I need a beer," Casey said, all flustered as he slammed the darts down on the table and headed for the bar.

By the time he made it to the bar, Dan and Martin the longshoreman were heading to the door.

Casey looked away as soon as he saw them leaving, refusing to watch Dan go. He thumped down onto a bar stool and dragged the nearest bowl of peanuts over to himself.

"Buy me a drink, Casey?" Sally, having materialised out of thin air, took the bar stool next to him.

He looked at Sally for a few moments, then smiled. "Was that a request or a demand, counsellor?"

*

"You forgot this." Dan dropped the Tupperware container, which held Casey's lunch, on the desk, on top of Casey's reports. "You're welcome."

"I would have said thank you without the passive aggressive 'you're welcome', you know," Casey said, moving it it off of his reports and onto the spot on his desk that was actually already cleared. Because it was where his lunch belonged.

Dan dropped into the chair behind his desk. "Fine," he said. "Good. Well, you're welcome."

"You're still pissed at me."

"She was wearing my vintage Bruins jersey."

"It was in my room, on the pile of clean laundry on the chair, Dan," Casey sighed.

"And she wore it."

"I was in the shower, Danny, I wasn't approving her wardrobe appropriation selection."

"Well I think from now on I'll be keeping my clothes in my own room. See if I ever let you do my laundry again."

"Right, because sorting through your whites and colours is such a thrill for me," Casey muttered.

"It's a thrill you'll no longer experience, my friend," Dan said as he checked his e-mail. "Oh, look. JJ's decided to stay in Palm Springs a few more weeks."

"Gee, isn't it nice to be JJ," Casey said. "Any orders from the boss?"

"He's said specifically for me not to burn the store down in his absence."

"That was one time, and one garbage can."

"And you're supposed to not sleep with any more cashiers."

"That was a lot more than one time, and I've already received those orders from you," Casey said, not looking up from his reports.

"Those goalie pads are still back-ordered, according to someone named Josh," Dan added.

"Well, if Josh wants to continue to be the person we order from at all, I think he should really do something about that, don't you?" Casey tossed Dan the apple from his lunch.

Dan caught the apple and bit into it. "You know what, I think he really should. Hockey season is fast approaching, and we don't want people to have to drive a half hour to go somewhere else to pay less money for goalie pads, do we?"

"We really don't. Do you want to be the good cop or the bad cop?"

"I was bad cop last time. I hate being bad cop."

"Fine, but I'm doing it by email," Casey said, tugging his keyboard closer. "Then you get to make the call and make it all better."

"Be sure to BCC me," Dan said. "I love your vicious e-mails. They give me goosebumps."

"Why Dan, you flirt," Casey murmured, half-smiling as he went to type, adding Dan's email to the BCC field.

"I'm so hot for you," Dan said.

"Well, who wouldn't be?" Casey said, tapping quickly at the keyboard, then hitting the 'send' button with a click of his mouse. "I expect he'll be phoning you a few minutes after he gets that."

"He probably will. So the question is, should I be away from my desk when he calls? Or should I be anxiously waiting for that call?"

"Away from your desk, because otherwise, certainly you could have controlled me, and all my hot-headed temper."

"That's right, I should be away from my desk." Dan got to his feet, stretched, and turned to leave their office. And then he stopped, and turned back to Casey, and pointed at him. "Don't think this means I'm not pissed at you."

"I get it. I'm not allowed to do your laundry anymore. Duly noted," Casey said.

"That's right. No more laundry for you." And then, chin lifted, Dan swept dramatically from the office.

"Sometimes, even the words 'drama queen' seem insufficient," Casey muttered.

"Alyson," Dan said as he strode through to the front of the store. "How's the day treating you?"

"Not as good as your night treated you." Alyson always knew.

"You heard about Matt the longshoreman?" Dan grinned. "Nothing gets past you, does it?"

"I did. I thought his name was Morris though," Alyson said. "Plus, you've got just-got-laid face, boss."

"I suppose I must have that particular glow," Dan said with a grin. Then he paused, and said, "Melvin."

"Murdoch?" Alyson grinned. "Casey's not nearly so subtle."

Dan scowled a bit and looked away. And then--"Ah, we do have someone in the store. I'll be over there." He gave Alyson a grin, then strode over to the man looking at winter jackets.

The very, very good looking, olive-skinned, dark-haired man. "Can I help you find a size?" Dan asked.

The man smiled at him, and stepped a little closer. "I'm torn between a medium and a large. What's your opinion?"

"Medium will fit you nicely," Dan said. "Not too snug. But, if you're looking seriously for a winter coat, you'll want to be able to fit a sweater on underneath it. Maritime winters are borderline evil."

"So I've heard, Dan." The man's smile got slightly wicked.

Dan blinked. He wasn't wearing a name tag. "Have we met?"

The man tilted his head and looked right at Dan. "You're kidding, right?"

Dan shook his head. "No, I'm not. Have we met before?"

"You're telling me that you don't remember me? Missouri, Dan, come on."

"I've never been to Missouri."

"Yes, you really have," the man insisted. "You, me, a little hotel..." he murmured, getting even closer. He was pretty sure Dan was out. He was pretty sure Dan'd told him he was out.

"Trust me, if I'd slept with you, I'd remember. I... couldn't possibly forget something like that."

"Apparently I can't trust you on this one," he said. "I'd say good to see you again, Dan, but you seem to feel like pretending that we're just meeting for the first time."

"I'm not pretending," Dan protested. "I'd remember if I'd slept with you in a hotel in Missouri."

"Doesn't seem like it! I'm Bobby. Bobby Bernstein. Ringing any bells, Dan?"

Dan blinked. "No?"

His eyes narrow. "Yeah, I think I'm gonna pass on the jacket, Dan," he said, turning around and starting to head through the store.

"In all my life, I have never seen you before!" Dan said, following him.

"I really should have known that your offer to come by Nova Scotia any time I felt like it was just so much crap," Bobby said. "No one ever means that sort of thing, but you? You I actually thought were sincere."

"I'm always sincere," Dan said. "I'm the absolute picture of sincerity. But I've never met you, and I've never been to Missouri."

"Right. Of course. Well, you just think about that for awhile, and see if you can come up with a better answer," Bobby said. "I'm staying at the hotel," he added, turning to go, and then turning back. "And unless you can remember who I am? That was not an invitation."

Dan stared at him. "I've never been to Missouri," he said, plaintively.

"See you around, Daniel." And with that, Bobby marched out the door.

Dan watched him go, then raced back to the office, skidding to a halt in front of Casey's desk. "I've never been to Missouri!" he cried.

"Hmm?" Casey didn't even look up. "Josh called back twice, but I just let it ring."

Dan placed his hands down on the top of Casey's desk and tried to catch his eye. "Casey, I have never been to Missouri."

"Sure you have," Casey murmured.

Dan stood straight again. "Road trip?" he asked.

"Road trip," Casey repeated, looking up. "We spent three days in Kansas City."

"Kansas City isn't in Kansas?"

"Kansas City is in Kansas."

"So then I haven't been to Missouri?"

"No, you have. Kansas City is in Missouri," Casey said.

"I'm going to kill you with my own two hands," Dan pronounced. "But later. I'm going for lunch!" Never mind that he just got in. He turned tail and raced out through the store.

"Bring me back a muffin!" Casey called after him, going back to his paperwork.

*

Two years ago

Dan ran the paint roller through the tray again. "I think we should go for it," he said.

"Well, okay, but I'm not getting circumcised first, Danny, I don't care what your mother says," Casey said, adjusting the tape around the baseboard.

"I'm not talking about marriage, Casey," Dan said, running the roller over the wall and admiring the shade of blue that appeared. "But I think that if we're still single when we're forty-five, we should, if only for the tax breaks."

"You just want to make sure you inherit that vinyl collection I got from my uncle when he died," Casey said. "I'm considering it, however. But if you weren't talking about that, what were you talking about?"

"The store."

"The store?"

"The store. Saving up to buy it from JJ so he can finally just move down to Palm Springs."

Casey turned around, then stood up. "You're serious, aren't you? You and me, buying the store?"

"Of course I'm serious."

"Have you been looking at my bank statements again?"

"Not since that time you caught me."

"I've been saving. Every paycheque for the last year. I just... didn't think you'd want to," Casey admitted.

"Why wouldn't I want to? What signs could I have possibly given you to make you think I wouldn't want to own the store with you?"

"I have no good answer to this question besides if I asked you, and you said no, I didn't have a next sentence," Casey said.

"We can't have you without next sentences."

"So you see my problem."

"Crystal clear."

"Are we really going to do this?" Casey asked, tossing his roll of tape aside. "Buy the store? Get JJ permanently off our backs?"

Dan abandoned the paint roller. "Yeah," he said, nodding, "I think we are. Does this require beer?"

"This definitely requires beer. I think it might even require manly hugs."

"I'm always up for both," Dan said, more than a little eagerly.

Casey laughed and reached out for Dan's arm, tugging him in for a hug and patting him firmly on the back.

Dan hugged Casey tight, then pulled back a moment and beamed at him. "It's like suddenly we've finally grown up," he said, rather proudly, and then grabbed Casey's hand, linked their fingers, and dragged him to the kitchen, the paint in the living room forgotten.

"You have Montreal Expos sheets, and I have action figures on my shelves," Casey said. "You're right. We're totally adults."

"Damn right we are," Dan said, opening the refrigerator door after letting go of Casey's hand.

Casey got the bottle opener from the drawer, reaching out for the beer after Dan dug it out of the vegetable crisper.

Dan let Casey open the beer, then lifted his bottle. "Here's to adulthood," he said. "May we not completely screw it up."

"Amen to that," Casey said, clinking his bottle against Dan's. "Here's to getting ourselves ridiculously in conjoined debt."

"The only kind of debt I want to be in after paying off my student loans."

"So I'm not the only one thinking of just sending Dalhousie my kidney and hoping that'll cover it?"

"I thought I'd send them my spleen."

"I don't think that they do spleen transplants, Danny."

"No? Because I didn't want to give them a kidney."

"Then I think we should save up enough for a down payment so we can get enough of a loan to pay off JJ all at once, get him and his stupid notes that make absolutely no sense out of our way, and start making some money."

"Does he even know how to write in the English language?" Dan said.

"I don't know... I've stopped reading them for comprehension," Casey admitted. "And if he sends me to SportChek to take notes one more time..."

"You'd think they'd have SportCheks in Palm Springs he could check out."

"Oh, they do. He's now sending me pictures he takes with a camera concealed in his coat. It's very 007."

"Now you're making fun of me," said Dan.

"I will send you the email," Casey said, looking at Dan in utter seriousness.

Dan blinked. "No. I refuse to believe you."

"Would you prefer to remain in denial, or would you like me to send you the jpegs?"

"Denial's a lovely place to be this time of year," Dan said.

"I hear that the greenery is beautiful," Casey agreed. "Denial it is."

"Denial goes well with adulthood."

"You're really enjoying this whole idea of the two of us being adults, aren't you, Danny? Does this mean I have to call you Daniel at all times now?"

"I might just make you do that. I haven't decided."

"Okay, but just keep in mind that I'll be laughing at you in my head if you do," Casey warned him.

"Laughing at me?"

"Daniel is just... I don't know," Casey said, then smiled. "Most of the time, you'll always be Danny to me."

That brought a smile to Dan's face. "I know. I like that."

"Good," Casey said, grinning wider and clinking his bottle against Dan's. "Then get someone else to call you Daniel. I bet Jeremy'd do it."

"I bet he would," Dan agreed. He leaned back against the counter by the sink and looked thoughtful. "What made you worry I might not want to do this?"

Casey sighed, then made himself think about it. "This was never what either of us thought we'd be doing when we grew up, was it? I guess... I thought maybe some day, you might want something more."

"Right," Dan said. "Everybody still thinks I'm going to up and run away."

He sighed again. "I didn't say run away, Danny. I said want something more. There's not a lot here."

"No, there isn't, so of course I'd have to go somewhere else." Dan took a drink of his beer. "It's why you get paid more than me."

"It's not that much... yeah. Probably. We do different jobs, Dan. Take it up with JJ, he sets the budget," Casey said. "I'll tell you what though--if we pull this off, and we can buy the store and run it ourselves? Equal."

Dan looked at him a moment, then nodded. "That sounds fair."

"Good. So. Cutting costs, and saving money... do we start with buying the cheap toilet paper, or should we get the store brand cheese?"

"Take away my good toilet paper and I will hurt you," Dan said.

"Store brand cheese it is."

*

Dan was breathless by the time he caught up with Bobby. He reached out for his arm and said, "Rob."

He let Dan touch his arm, but he didn't stop walking. "I'm sorry, who are you again? I've forgotten."

"You introduced yourself as Rob," Dan said, moving around in front of Bobby, walking backward. "You had glasses and your socks didn't match and I'm positive your hair was not brown."

He stopped, tilting his head and looking at Dan. "You remember that my socks didn't match?"

"I thought it was charming."

Bobby paused for a long time, then smiled. "Kansas City. Missouri."

"I didn't realise that Kansas City's in Missouri. Geography was never my strong suit."

"Or long term memory," Bobby said, teasing just a little. "I guess I do look a little bit different, don't I?"

"You do. Wasn't your hair red? Were you dying it?"

"I was, yeah," he said, with a bit of a sheepish look on his face. "I thought it would make me look cool."

"It made you look eccentric," Dan said. "Which isn't necessarily a bad thing, we could all use more eccentricity in our lives but--I like the brown hair better."

"Then there's the part where I really grew up hot, isn't there?" Bobby murmured, stepping closer and smiling.

"You did," Dan agreed. "You did a lot. Wanna get lunch with me?"

"You know? I really do," Bobby said. "You sure you can spare the time?"

Dan nodded. "Yeah, I can spare the time."

"Then let's go. So tell me, Dan... where's the best place for lunch in your quaint little town?"

"Isaac's pub. It's not far from here. But then, nothing's far from anything else in this town."

"I can imagine," Bobby said, settling in beside Dan and gesturing ahead of himself. "Lead the way."

"So what really brings you to Nova Scotia?" Dan asked, guiding Bobby along the street to the pub.

"You."

"You're full of shit," said Dan, laughing.

"Actually? I'm completely serious," Bobby said, although he was grinning.

"No, you're not. Now you're just making fun of me. Gorgeous guy like you, coming all the way into this little hole-in-the-wall town to find me? Only in my wildest fantasies."

"I don't know about your wildest fantasies, but I did come looking for you. Except that--mostly--I came looking for your brains and personality, rather than your body. Mostly," Bobby qualified.

"So, what, you're saying you don't want me for my body?" Dan feigned affronted. "And to think I was going to buy you wings."

"You're missing the mostly. The mostly is the part where I absolutely want you for your body, Daniel Rydell," Bobby smirked. "For the rest? I'm technically here on business."

Dan held the door to the pub open for Bobby, then followed him inside. "What sort of business?" he asked, as he walked past the 'seat yourself' sign to find his favourite table.

"I work for... Dan? Is it just me, or is everyone in the room staring at us?"

"They're staring," Dan said. "You're not a longshoreman."

"I'm not a what?"

"A longshoreman. It's kind of obvious. And they're not used to seeing me with a guy who's not some sort of sailor."

"Oh, those guys," Bobby said. "Hey, I could be a longshoreman. If I gained about fifty pounds of solid muscle and started wearing plaid."

"I like you better in your khakis." He looked up as the server approached their table and dropped off their menus. "Thanks, Monica," he said.

"You're welcome, Dan," she said, giving Bobby a good look. "And you are..."

"Bobby," he said, smiling at the server.

"Bobby," she repeated, looking over at Dan and raising an eyebrow. "Not a longshoreman, Dan."

"I know," Dan said. "Aren't you impressed?"

"I am," she said. "I'll be back in a few minutes to take your order, after I call Natalie." There were rules about sharing.

"Um... why does she have to call Natalie?" Bobby asked, as the server named Monica walked back to the bar.

"It's very important that Natalie keep her finger on the pulse of the town, otherwise she has to punish people."

"She... punishes people?" By the look on his face, Bobby was getting more and more concerned about just what kind of place he may have stumbled into.

"Yes, and the punishment is severe. So we make sure Natalie knows everything that's going on."

"You go to a pub with a man who isn't a longshoreman, and that rates a post in the tiny fishing village news. Wow. It's like I've stepped into Pleasantville, only with fish."

"That's pretty much exactly where we are, yeah."

"And what exactly is it you do here? In Pleasantfishingville?"

"I help my best friend running the sporting goods store," Dan replied. "And you never did answer my question."

"I work in Human Resources for SportChek. I'm in charge of Atlantic Canada, and I consult on decisions made for the major cities in Central Canada. Western Canada, they're on their own," Bobby said.

"Aren't they always?" Dan said. "So were you checking us out?"

"Kind of," Bobby said. "You're quite the competition for our store half an hour away, you know."

"We try to be competitive," Dan said. "We're proud of ourselves, and we take what we do seriously."

"You're more than competitive," Bobby told him. "You're kicking our asses."

Dan brightened considerably at that. "Are we really?" He didn't get an opportunity for an answer from Bobby, as Monica returned to take their orders. "I'm going to be very daring today, Monica," he announced as he handed her his menu. "I'm going for the turkey club."

"You realise that I'm going to have to call Natalie again if you do that, Dan," Monica told him, taking the menu and tucking it under her arm. "And for you, Bobby?"

"You know what? I'll have the same, thank you, Monica," he said, giving her a wide smile.

She giggled, then shook her head as she took his menu. "You're here with Dan--even if you're not a longshoreman, you don't fool me," she told him, heading for the kitchen this time.

Dan looked across at Bobby as he leaned back in his chair. "You're already getting painted with the same brush as me," he said. "You sure you want to do this?"

"I think I can handle it," Bobby murmured, smiling at Dan. "So, now you know what I do."

"I do. And I know you're here, being all Mr Corporate Spy."

"Actually, I've already done all my corporate spying," Bobby said. "The spying is the reason why I'm here now."

"I'm not the reason you're here now? I'm hurt."

"I don't care about your store. I want you."

"You want me?" A slow little smile curled Dan's lips. "Well now. Even after I never called or e-mailed you or anything?"

"Professionally. Well, and personally, but I keep being told I should put business before pleasure," Bobby said. "I'll find a way to punish you appropriately for never calling or emailing or remembering my name."

"Hey, I remembered Rob, didn't I?" Dan took a sip of his drink when Monica dropped it off, and fell silent a moment, before he said, "You want me professionally."

"I do," Bobby said. "You're being headhunted, Dan."

"I am?" Dan sat forward, elbows on the table. "Why?"

Bobby laughed. "With how well your store is doing, you have to ask that? You're good, Dan. You're extremely good, and you're being wasted here. I want to start you out managing one of our big stores, and eventually, if it works out, moving up to more of a district manager position. More responsibility, more work, and a lot more money."

Dan paused a moment, then said, "More urban."

"They don't have big stores in the rural settings, no. We looked into putting one here, but JJ wasn't interested in turning his store into a franchise. Too much work for him."

"Yeah, and if Casey and I managed to do it without him, well..." Dan paused again. "This is my home, Bobby."

"I know, and it's very quaint, and I'm sure the people are lovely and it's nice being somewhere that everybody knows your name, your sexual proclivities right down to longshoreman, and everything else, but you're better than this place, Dan. I knew it before, and I'm sure of it now," Bobby said. "I wouldn't be here offering you this if I didn't think so."

"Casey and I are going to buy the store. We're probably only another year or three away."

"A year or three? Probably? Are you really going to hang your future on those kinds of odds?" Bobby asked. "Look. Your little store does well. Too well for us to be any real competition for you. But it's not like you're going to be raking in the profits. You'll cover your costs, pay your employees, but you're not going to be vacationing in Palm Springs. As a manager or district manager, you'll be in charge of the store, but your risks will be incredibly minimized. You won't be financially responsible for your inventory. You won't be paying out of your own pocket if you have a bad month, but your staff still needs a paycheque."

That sounded good. It sounded really good. Dan looked down at his drink and didn't say anything for a long time; long enough for Monica to bring over their lunches. He didn't pick up his sandwich for a while. And then he said, "How long do I have to think about this?"

Bobby took a card out of his pocket and slid it across the table to Dan. "My cell number's on there. I've got a busy couple of weeks coming up, and I want the new manager in place in six weeks. So you've got two to decide, which'll give you a month to get ready. And Dan? For anyone else, it'd be half that time. But I want you."

"You want me professionally."

Bobby took the card back and wrote a number on the back of it. "My hotel room. I want both, Rydell."

| Chapter 2 |