A Moment of Weakness
Author: Oro
Disclaimer: Sports Night is not even near my alley… it belongs to Aaron Sorkin. Much like many other things which aren't near my alley. My alley sucks.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Dana/Calvin
Notes: This is my first Dana/Calvin. The first Dana/Calvin fic I'd ever seen, actually. Anyway; thank you BJ for the quick beta.
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Pixley broke up with Casey three months later, when the realization that he would rather anchor a television show than go to a club with her dawned on her. She took him to Anthony's, clasped his hands in hers and told him it was over before his Vodka Martini arrived; a twist of lime instead of an olive. He was feeling sentimental.
Dana hears about it over the headset, two minutes before air. She knows Natalie's gaze is exploring her own expression, and does her best to make it visible how much she does not give a damn.
Calvin enters the control room, as he sometimes would during the show. He places his hands over Dana's shoulders, lightly squeezing them, as the opening theme plays in her headset. She turns around with her chair in response to his touch. "Hi, Sweetie," she smiles at him, taking off her headset. She softly kisses him on the lips.
The show begins, and Dana quickly resumes her previous position, still well aware of Natalie's glances, which she persistently ignores. 'Very nice, Casey,' she tells the anchor after an on-air wisecrack the latter makes. She sighs; Sports Night lives thanks to Calvin, and she wishes she could say that things remained exactly as they had been before Quo Vadimus, but they hadn't. While she did develop her own new chemistry with Calvin, Isaac seems to have almost none, and the old man's retirement is painfully and constantly hanging over the staff's heads. Everyone clearly assumes Dana would be the one to take over Isaac's job once he leaves; she suspects they all attribute that to her close relationship with Trager.
Dana herself has no desire to take over Isaac's position, but she is secretly starting to get used to the idea. She would've liked it if things stayed the same but has to accept that they wouldn't, especially due to the recent developments. Dana shakes her head as if it would help her get rid of her ponderous state; one of the worse things to have in the middle of a show. She thinks too much.
Commercial break; the show was doing fine without her mind actually in the game, apparently. Dana clears her throat, rises up from her chair and exits the control room. No questions asked, though she knows that will come later, after the show. Not now, though, Dana thinks as she leans against the cold, hard wall. She goes frantically through her bag until she digs out a lighter and a cigarette. One agitated movement, and it's burning. She inhales the toxin into her lungs, then exhales the smoke. She'll give herself hell about it later.
Dana knows she isn't supposed to care about him, or her, or any of this. It's none of her business; their story ended when it began and she's learned to accept that. She is doing fine and is quite content with Calvin. She brings the cigarette to her mouth, inhales, lowers her hand, and exhales. Dana closes her eyes as the last cloud of smoke rose from the edge of her mouth. Why does she let these things get to her? Sigh. Time to go in; she puts out her cigarette on a nearby trash can.
Back in the control room, Natalie is engaged in a sort of an excited ramble, which comes to a halt as Dana sits back in her chair. Dana knows Natalie is looking at her accusingly without even looking into her friend's brown eyes. 'Nat, don't worry about it,' their eyes finally meet. 'Really,' she reassures her, 'it was a one time thing.' Natalie swallows the words as though she really thinks Dana means them, though she can smell the nicotine that flows through them. Natalie shrugs and turns to Jeremy; Dana buries her blonde head in her hands.
Back in three, two, one. Good evening from New York City, he's Casey McCall alongside Dan Rydell, she's watching Sports Night on CSC and the Bulls beat Miami 100-85. She is behind the camera and he is in front of it. Calvin's arms tighten around her waist and that is all she needs. She's in control again; fuck Casey.