SUMMARY: It started out a regular Thursday night at Anthony's. A post-series story.

DISCLAIMER:   If they were my characters, they'd still be on TV.

THANKS:  To everyone who's read this over the -- seriously -- years I was tweaking this, including Jo March, Em Meredith, and Marguerite.

It started out a regular Thursday night at Anthony's.

Kim and Eliot were bickering at the bar.  Natalie and Jeremy -- currently on-again -- were canoodling in a corner booth.  Dan was talking sports with Chris and Dave and occasionally mocking West Coast Update with Peter and Paul.  And Dana and Casey were sitting opposite each other at a table, Casey nursing a beer and Dana working on the crossword.

"What's a six-letter word for numerous?"

Casey smiled at her.  "Myriad."

"Right," she answered, grinning.  "Of course."  She penciled in the answer, a small frown creasing her forehead as she worked.  It was so familiar -- the determined expression on her face, his quiet amusement watching her, this slow unwinding after a long, satisfying day.  Nights like this felt right in a way few things did, and Casey wondered if he'd ever be really over her.

He forced himself to look away from her and made the mistake of glancing towards the bar, where Dan was watching him with a pensive expression.

Dan held his gaze for a long moment, then nodded.  Casey knew exactly what Danny meant (which was, he admitted, a little disturbing), and found himself shaking his head emphatically.  Dan rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the TV screen, lobbing another Peter, Paul & Mary lyric to his small audience of colleagues.  "Once I built a railroad, and now it's done," Danny recited gravely, a grin tugging at his lips, "Buddy, can you spare a dime?"

"Casey?"

He met Dana's gaze.  She was giving him that concerned look.  "Yeah?" he asked.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

She narrowed her eyes, but let it go after a moment.  "Okay, then what's a five-letter word for exaggerated journalistic style?  Besides Danny," she added, smirking.

Casey thought about it for a moment, ignoring Dana's mild heckling, then he said, "Gonzo.  Come for a walk with me."

"Thank--What?"  Dana's pencil hovered above the page.

"Come on," Casey urged, swallowing the rest of his beer in a few long gulps.  He had a feeling that either way, alcohol would be a good addition to the coming conversation.

"Casey?"  Dana looked a tiny bit scared all of a sudden.

"Just," he said, pushing himself upright, "trust me."  He held out a hand, grateful that he wasn't shaking.

After a moment, Dana shrugged and stood, "Let me give this to Natalie."

"Why do you need to give your half-finished crossword puzzle to Natalie?"

"Natalie likes crossword puzzles," Dana answered.

Casey grinned outright.  "No, she doesn't."

Dana breezed over to Jeremy and Natalie's table.  "Jeremy likes crossword puzzles."

Jeremy turned a puzzled look Dana's way.  "I do?"

"Sure," Dana answered cheerfully, pressing the folded newspaper and the pencil into his hands.

"Thank you?" Jeremy ventured.  He glanced to Casey for clarification, but Casey just shrugged.

Natalie looked back and forth between Dana and Casey with a knowing gaze.  "This is good," she decided.

Casey could feel a flush on his cheeks.  "Natalie--"

"Okay," she interrupted with a grin, lifting her palms in a gesture of false innocence.  "I'm just voicing an opinion."

"Don't," Dana ordered, touching Natalie's arm for a moment to soften her warning.  "We'll be back."  She turned to head for the door, but Casey paused, waiting for the inevitable remark.

Natalie beamed at him.  "You better not be."

Dana whirled back around.  "Natalie!"

"Let's go," Casey said, ushering Dana forward with his hand at her waist.  Funny how normal it felt to touch her like that.

"She said--"

"I heard," Casey interrupted, trying to speed their departure so Danny wouldn't notice.  Hope springs eternal.

Dan didn't even turn his attention away from the TV screen when he raised his voice and sang, "The first time ever I saw your face, I thought the sun rose in your eyes--"

"Danny," Casey hissed.

Dan simply sang louder, "And the moon and stars were the gifts you gave to the dark and the empty skies, my love."

Casey flushed darker.

"You know what?" Dana said, and now she was pulling him by his hand.  "The sooner we leave, the sooner they stop."

Casey gave her a look.

"Okay," Dana admitted.  "They won't stop, you know, ever, but the sooner we leave, the sooner we won't have to hear it."

"Fair point," Casey said, following her outside onto the sidewalk.

It was early autumn and the night air was almost chilly.  Strains of jazz floated out into the night sky from a nearby bar, and Casey pointed the other way down Sixth.

"Where are we going?" Dana asked, crossing her arms to conserve heat.

"I don't know," Casey admitted.  He was still going on impulse, and he was too jittery to stand still for this.

"You don't know?" Dana repeated, and he could hear the nervousness in her voice.

"No."

"You just--"

"Dana," Casey stopped walking and turned to her, exasperation writ large on his face.  "I didn't want to do this in front of people."

She shifted nervously, taking one step closer.  "Do what in front of people?"

He couldn't think of a good conversation starter, so he said, "The dating plan was a stupid idea."

Dana jerked away from him, eyes wide.  "You brought me out her to chastise me for something that happened a year ago?"

"Dana--"

"No, Casey, I thought we were finally getting past that.  I thought we were friends again, with none of that awkwardness--"

"I don't want to be friends with you," Casey interrupted quietly.

Dana stared at him with wet, hurt eyes.

"I never wanted to be friends with you," Casey explained with a helpless shrug, knowing everything was coming out all wrong but not sure how to fix it.  "You know that, Dana.  I always wanted..."  He hesitated, his gaze skittering away from hers.

"You always wanted what, Casey?" she asked, a note of pleading in her voice.

"I always wanted you," he told his shoes.  When the silence became unbearable, he forced himself to look at her.

She stood there on the sidewalk on Sixth Avenue and stared at him, shaking her head just a little.  "Why now?"

Casey laughed bitterly.  "That's your answer?"

"I don't remember being asked a question," Dana bit out sharply.

Damn.  "Dana--"

"No, Casey, if we're going to do this, let's do this," she said, her voice thick and angry.  "You never wanted me, you wanted some idealized idea of me, without the quirks and the neuroses and the rest."  Dana threw her hands up into the air.  "You can't keep doing this to me, Casey."

"What am I doing to you, Dana?" he demanded angrily.  "I'm telling you that I--"  He stopped, looked away. God, he was an idiot.  This was quite possibly the stupidest thing he'd ever tried to do.

"That you what?" she pressed, and when he looked at her, she seemed so vulnerable, so fragile, and he couldn't figure out how to answer.

"Never mind."

"Casey--"

"No, this isn't going to work."

Dana put her hands in the center of his chest and shoved him backwards a few steps.  "You don't just get to decide that unilaterally," she shouted.

"Dana--"

"No, Casey.  I screwed up.  I'm sorry about the dating plan.  I'm sorry that I hurt you.  You know I would never hurt you on purpose.  I don't know how many times I can apologize for that.  But I never made any declarations that it was over between us."

"It never even started between us!" Casey countered angrily.

"Whose fault was that?" Dana shot back.

"Yours."

Her expression crumpled and Casey turned away from her, trying to get his breathing under control.  Trying to get the conversation back on track.  He glanced at her, but she had half-turned, her chin down, her face angled away from him.

Silence lingered for a long moment, then Dana said quietly, "You're the one who called it off."

"You wanted me to date other women."  Casey faced her again, because this was the part he was sure about.  This was the part that had festered for a year.  "I wanted you, and you wanted me to date other women."

Dana swiped at the tears in her eyes.  "I wanted us to have a chance, Casey.  You always put me on this pedestal, and I was terrified that once you..." she laughed, a watery little chuckle, "once you saw that I was just me, you'd wish you'd held out for more."

He reached for her, nudging her chin until she met his gaze.  "I've known you for 15 years, Dana.  You've been my boss for five.  You think I don't know you?"

She looked like she wanted to believe him, but her expression was guarded.  "Casey--"

"You're insane, Dana," Casey continued, his tone affectionate.  His fingers tightened on her, squeezing her shoulder.  "Your mind works in ways that leave me completely mystified.  You're an incredible producer.  You've got a buoyant sense of humor and a laugh that..." he shrugged.  "I'm a writer, and I can't come up with a good enough word.  You're compassionate and kind and I've always seen you."

Dana stared up at him for a long moment, hope in her expression.  And then she was kissing him, her arms looped around his neck.  Casey wrapped his arms around her waist and crushed her to him, not even caring that they were in the middle of Sixth Avenue in the middle of the night.

"Casey," Dana said, pressing another kiss to his lips before leaning back to meet his gaze.  "Why tonight?"

"What do you mean?"

She shrugged.  "What prompted--?"

"Does it matter?" he asked, honestly curious.

"Not really.  But I'm curious."

"It's just--"  He shrugged, trying to figure out how to put it into words.  He could think of a dozen ways to describe the Yankees lineup, but she'd always left him nonverbal.  "We were in there, just together, and it felt like something I wanted to have happen, you know, a lot.  And not just after the show when we're not too tired."

Dana nodded, her lips pressed tightly together to suppress a smile.  "I never needed Café des Artistes, Casey."

He grinned at her.  "You know, that's one of the things you could have told me.  I wanted our first date to be special."

Dana shifted against him, leaving him breathless.  She smiled up at him, and she was letting him see everything she felt.  He was having some trouble breathing with the way she was looking at him.

Then she made breathing impossible:  "Come home with me and I'll see what I can do about that."

Casey stared at her for a long moment, unable to come up with words.  Then he kissed her roughly, dragged her to the edge of the sidewalk and shouted, "Taxi!!"

Dana laughed and squeezed him closer, and he thought maybe this was exactly the right kind of first date.

THE END