Notes: They're not our characters. Big props to Saturday Night Live, Chris Chelios, and the Duke of Earl.

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"While I was unconscious, I kept seeing soldiers."

"Soldiers?" Natalie repeated.

"Tin soldiers," Isaac said, and leaned back slightly in his chair. "Little hand-painted brave faces on them. Lined up in a row. You know the way small children can be very neat when they try very hard?"

She nodded. "I used to do that with my stuffed animals."

"They were lined up very carefully, and I could move them around, and then I'd put them back straight again."

Natalie bit her lip slightly. "Did you have toy soldiers when you were a kid?"

"No."

"So what did it mean?"

"Damned if I know." Isaac put his glasses on and turned to the papers on his desk. "The Garciaparra profile's a little thin."

She gave a short, sharp laugh of frustration. "I'm trying to interpret this thing. There were chickens running around the office."

"You've told me," he reminded her.

"Great big yellow chickens, and we were herding them into the elevators. Chickens, Isaac."

"Could they talk?"

"No."

"Too bad. I could've explained that one to you."

"You're not helping me out here," Natalie informed him.

"Imagine that." Isaac studied his notes and looked up at her. "Dreams are just dreams, Natalie. They don't have to mean anything. They're just something for your brain to do when it's not busy walking and speaking and learning."

"You don't have a mystical bone in your body," she lamented.

"And I'm quite pleased about that. Are we done?"

"I suppose." She bounced to her feet. "I'll find some stats to pad Garciaparra."

"Thank you."

Natalie hesitated in the doorway. "What would it mean if they could talk?"

"Get out of here."

She started to walk away. "Big yellow chickens, Isaac!"

"And don't call any of those telephone psychics," he called after her. "Not from the office."

* * *

"Casey."

"Yeah?"

"What are you doing?"

Casey looked over his shoulder. "I'm packing."

Dan continued to focus on his computer screen. "You're going camping. Why do you need three books on Muhammad Ali?"

"How did you know that I packed three books on Muhammad Ali?"

"I saw you do it."

Casey sighed and placed the books back on the shelf. "You're like my mother, but hairier."

"I should hope so." Dan leaned back in his chair. "When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow morning. At six o'clock, I'm picking up Charlie, and we're heading to Montana for a glorious week of camping, fishing, and father-son bonding. We're going back to nature, Danny. We're going to become one with nature."

"You're going to come back with a beard."

"I might! I just might grow a beard." Casey leaned against his desk. "We'll be bathing in streams, cooking our dinner over an open flame. We're doing it how it's meant to be done."

"Good for you."

"You know, you say that, but you don't sound like you mean it."

"No, I do. I mean it. Good for you, Case. Go commune."

Casey folded his arms and grinned. "He's a bitter, bitter man."

"Lies."

"You're mad at me!"

"Casey, you're my best friend. I love you like a brother. I'd take a bullet for you."

"And you're mad at me."

Dan stood and moved to the couch. "I'm not mad, per se. I just think you could have waited until Dana could have found someone better than Micka Gallows to replace you."

"What's wrong with Micka Gallows?"

"She scares me."

Casey laughed. "She scares you?"

"A little bit, yes. Have you seen her arms? They're the size of your head!"

"So the woman likes to work out. It wouldn't hurt you to hit the gym a little more often, you know."

"That, my friend, is another conversation for another day."

"Fair enough." Casey hoisted his duffel bag over his shoulder. "You'd take a bullet for me?"

"I was making a point."

"Okay."

"I meant that other stuff, though."

Casey smiled. "I know it." He walked to the doorway, then turned around and looked at Dan. "I'd take a bullet for you."

"No, you wouldn't."

"I'd miss you if you got shot, Dan." Casey stepped into the hall. "It would be a sad day."

Dan folded his hands behind his head. "Go commune!"

Casey was strolling toward the elevator when Jeremy fell into step with him. "You're not leaving yet," he said.

"I'm taking my stuff down to the car," he said cheerfully.

"But you're coming back."

"I'm gearing up. I'm ready to hit the road and see where it takes me."

"You're coming back," he repeated firmly.

Casey sighed. "Yes, dear."

"Because we have about eighty things to get out of the way before you're free."

"What eighty things?"

"Preparation."

Casey stopped, leaning his luggage against the wall. "Preparation for what? I'm leaving for a week. There are no playoffs going on. There are no all-star games. There are no major boxing bouts. What am I preparing for?"

"Dana?"

"Chris Chelios," Dana replied absently, thumbing through a folder.

Jeremy flagged her down as she crossed the hall. "Tell Casey what he has to do today."

"Preparation."

Casey threw up his hands. "I'm bringing emergency flares."

"Preparation for disaster *here*," Dana clarified. "Chris Chelios."

"Coming in at seven to get ready for the sit-down," Jeremy said.

"I know that. I'm aware of that, but that's not really my concern."

"What's your concern?" Casey asked.

"Right now, my concern is that he's a very handsome man."

Casey tilted his head back against the wall. "He doesn't even have all his teeth."

"He does in this picture."

"And I think he's married."

"But maybe I'll sweep him off his feet anyway."

"You don't think that the marriage and..." Jeremy peered at the file in Dana's hands. "...four children put you at a bit of a disadvantage?"

"Just a bit." Dana frowned. "I need to impress him. I need to be unavailable and yet and at the same time completely lovely and irresistible."

Jeremy's eyebrows went up. "You need to be real estate on the Upper East Side?"

"I need a man!" Dana announced loudly, and strode off toward her office.

Casey looked at Jeremy for a long moment. "I knew I should have sneaked out the back way."

* * *

"Dan!" Natalie stood from Jeremy's desk and waved him over.

"Are you on the phone?"

"I'm on hold. Sit down."

He did. "What's up?"

"We need to talk."

Dan's eyes filled with fear. "Is it Isaac? Did something happen to Isaac?"

"No, no."

"Casey? Did he get hurt?"

Natalie shook her head. "Casey's fine."

"Oh, God, it's Dana."

"Dan--"

"Jeremy?"

"Nothing's wrong with Jeremy."

Dan covered his face with his hands. "Poor Kim."

"It's not Kim."

"Will?"

"No."

"Chris?"

Natalie sighed. "No."

"Dave."

"Everyone is fine."

Dan leaned forward and took her hand. "Tell me it's not you."

"It's me."

"Oh, Natalie. Is it serious?"

"It could be."

Dan leaned in close to her and spoke softly. "Are you pregnant?"

"Chickens."

He blinked. "Chickens?"

"A whole mess of them."

"Chickens?"

"What do you think it means?"

"Chickens?"

Natalie sighed. "Dan, it was a very scary dream. They were squawking and moving their little chicken heads and they wouldn't leave the office."

"You know, I had a dream last night, too."

"Was it about chickens?"

"It was about you."

"What was I doing?"

Dan stood. "You were acting like a rational human being. That's how I knew it was a dream."

"Dan?"

"What?"

"Chris Chelios is coming in at seven."

"I know this."

Natalie twirled the phone cord around her finger. "Dana wants to see you about it."

"Now?"

She shrugged. "Whenever." Suddenly, she spoke into the phone. "Yes, chickens. That's right. Yes, in the office. A few of them chased me."

"Natalie, who are you talking to?"

She covered the receiver with her hand. "Psychics. I'm going to get to the bottom of this."

Dan chuckled. "Isaac's not going to be happy about that."

"That's why I'm using Jeremy's phone."

* * *

"You wanted me?" Dan asked, swinging around the frame of Dana's door.

"Truly, madly, deeply," she said, removing her reading glasses.

"Chris Chelios?"

"Indeed."

"We wrote the questions for tonight a week ago," Dan reminded her.

She nodded. "They're good questions."

"We're going to be funny, we're going to be clever, we're going to be cool--"

"Even newsworthy."

"Maybe even that," Dan agreed, dropping into one of Dana's chairs. "Everything's in place. What's your problem?"

"I never said I had one."

"Natalie implied that we had some kind of Chris Chelios-related problem."

"We don't."

Dan regarded her skeptically. "Dana?"

"Really, we don't. Everything's good. Everything's fine." She tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "I've got a crush on him."

He stared at her for a moment. "Yeah, you have no problems. Not one."

"He's a handsome man." Dana tapped a pencil against her desk thoughtfully.

"I mean, how do we put a show on night after night with all the neuroses floating around this place?"

"How would we do it without all the neuroses?"

"Fair point. You have a crush on Chris Chelios?"

She held her thumb and forefinger up, close together. "Little crush. Tiny crush. Barely even there at all."

"This is the hockey player Chris Chelios, and not some... Chris Chelios the sidewalk chestnut-vendor?"

"I don't want him to think I'm some kind of lonely, desperate woman throwing myself at him."

"Are you, in fact, a lonely, desperate woman throwing yourself at him?" Dan wondered.

"That's beside the point." Dana stood up and leaned forward. "I need you to do me a favor."

"I'm not talking you up to Chris Chelios during an interview. Isn't he married anyway?"

"Oh, Dan." She shook her head and walked around her desk, perched on its corner and touched his arm. "I wasn't going to ask you to do that. It would be demeaning and unprofessional and entirely inappropriate."

He looked at her suspiciously. "I'm relieved."

"Good. Now that the air is clear, I'm going down to Graphics, and you have a script to write." Dana got to her feet and walked past him.

"Wait. You didn't say what the favor was."

"Oh, it's not a big deal," she said dismissively, as she disappeared into the hall. "I just need you to pretend we're dating."

Dan blinked a few times and shook his head to himself. "Everything was in place."

* * *

"I've done some useless things in my time," Casey said, swiveling his chair slightly. "I've fiddled with Rubix cubes. I've played with yo-yos. I watched the movie Meet Joe Black in its entirety. But I have never, not once, done something that was as completely--"

In the control room, Natalie leaned forward to speak into the microphone. "Stop whining and read it."

Casey sighed heavily, straightened up and faced forward to recite from the Teleprompter. "'In saddening news, the St. Louis Cardinals' Hall Of Fame outfielder Stan Musial passed on today at the age of 80. The 24-time All Star will be missed.'"

Jeremy grinned sidelong at Natalie. "Now do the next one."

"'In saddening news, the St. Louis Cardinals' Hall Of Fame outfielder Stan Musial passed on today at the age of 81. The 24-time All Star will be missed.'" He glared at the camera. "I hope you're happy."

"Stan Musial's gone," Jeremy said. "We're not happy about it. Do the next one."

"This is ridiculous!"

"Hey, you're the one who wanted to go on vacation," Natalie reminded him.

"And this is a reason to torture me?"

"Stan Musial could drop at any second," Jeremy deadpanned. "When you're eighty years old, the slightest little shock and you could go--"

"Like that!" Natalie snapped her fingers close to his ear.

Jeremy jumped slightly. "Like that."

Casey rolled his eyes. "I'm gone for a week. This is a joke."

"Do the transition."

He read from the prompter again. "'In saddening news, the St. Louis Cardinals' Hall Of Fame outfielder Stan Musial passed on today at the age of 80. Also this afternoon, Cardinals slugger Mark McGwire hit his 72nd home run of the season.' Yeah, that's going to happen." Casey scoffed. "There's more?"

"Just a few more," Natalie promised. "We just want to be fully prepared."

"Yeah, yeah. 'In saddening news, the St. Louis Cardinals' Hall Of Fame outfielder Stan Musial passed on today at the age of 80, and there are giant chickens loose in the studio.' Natalie, give it a rest!"

"Keep going," Jeremy said.

"'In saddening news, the St. Louis Cardinals' Hall Of Fame outfielder Stan Musial passed on today at the age of 80, and I'm gay.'" It took a moment for the words to register in Casey's mind. "Hey!"

Natalie giggled. "We just want to be fully prepared!"

"I'm not gay."

"You say that now," she said, with mock seriousness. "But you wake up one day, you like men, Stan Musial's dead, and we're screwed."

"You know what, it's fine with me." Casey stood up. "I can take some good-natured prodding. I know it's just a product of your jealousy. I'll think about you when I'm sleeping out under the stars, cooking on the open flames--"

"Actually, none of that appeals to me," Jeremy interrupted. "I'd rather be in a good hotel eating twelve-dollar macadamia nuts."

"So why am I being put through the wringer?"

"Natalie?" Jeremy said.

"It's the principle of the thing."

"It's the principle of the thing."

"I'm wired," Casey grumbled. "I heard. I just hope you know that dreams about giant chickens mean you're sexually unsatisfied."

"You are making that up, right?" Jeremy asked.

"He's making it up," Natalie said. "Just for that, Casey? We're going to do Ted Williams too. Get your butt back in that chair."

Casey threw up his hands. "Meeting Joe Black is looking pretty good to me right now."

* * *

"What's my favorite soft drink?"

Dan sighed. "Dana...."

She cleared her throat. "Dan, what's my favorite soft drink?"

"Tab?"

"Clearly, you're not taking this seriously." She stood and began walking around the office. "I'd like you take a moment to study the index cards I've prepared for you, and then we can start our little exercise over."

"You are aware that we're doing a show tonight?"

"Take a moment."

Dan cracked his neck and thumbed through the cards. "You don't like soft drinks."

"That's right!" Dana whipped around and pointed a finger at him. "I do not like soft drinks. Do you know what that was?"

"A trick question?"

"A trick question! You've got to be on your toes, Dan."

"I can see that, mentally, you're not all here, so I'm probably asking this question for naught, but how likely do you suppose it is that Chris Chelios will ask me about your soft drink preferences?"

Dana looked at him. "Before you begin speaking with Chris, he and I will be introduced. Suppose, during the course of the interview, that he pauses, placing one hand on your knee, and says, 'I'm sorry, but I just can't stop thinking about that Dana Whitaker. I'd really like to take her out after the show, perhaps for a soft drink. Do you happen to know which soft drink she prefers?' At that point, you would respond, 'Dana doesn't enjoy soft drinks, but I do believe that she would enjoy having sex with you.'"

Dan folded his hands. "I think you need to lie down."

"Who was my favorite Beatle?"

Dan gathered up a cassette and a pen and began walking towards the door. "Really, Dana, a nice nap might do you good."

"Wait a minute, wait a minute!" Dana rushed up to him and grabbed his arm. "Where are you going?"

"I have to look at the Baltimore game."

"But what about the index cards?"

Dan leaned against the door. "Your favorite color is red. You're allergic to pugs and green peppers. You keep old Chrismas cards in a shoebox beside your bed. You once found a fifty dollar bill while mowing the lawn. Your favorite number is sixteen. You hate the name Anne when it's not spelled with an 'e'."

She smiled broadly. "You took a moment!"

"But I have to tell you, Dana--"

She placed her fingers in her ears and began singing loudly. "Duke, Duke, Duke, Duke of Earl!"

"I'm not comfortable with this."

"As I walk through this world, nothing can stop the Duke of Earl!"

Dan crossed his arms. "Stop singing."

"And you, you are my girl! And no one can hurt you, oh no!"

"You're putting me in a very uncomfortable situation."

"Yes, I'm gonna love you! Come on let me hold you darlin' 'cause I'm the Duke of Earl!"

"This is sexual harassment!"

Natalie stepped up behind Dan. "Who with the what, what?"

"Dana's lost her mind."

"You think I'm crazy. You think Dana's crazy." Natalie maneuvered around Dan and stood next to Dana. "Did it ever occur to you that you're the crazy one?"

"Every day of my life," he said. "But today, in this room, at this moment, I am not the crazy one."

"That's scary," Jeremy intoned.

"Did Casey finish with his thing?" Dana asked.

Natalie grinned. "He did."

"Did he hate it?"

"He did."

Dana nodded. "Good deal."

Dan gestured towards the hall. "I'm going to look at the Baltimore game."

"Jeremy can do it," Dana said quickly.

"But--"

Dana turned to him. "Jeremy?"

"I'm on it." Jeremy plucked the cassette from Dan's hand and left the office.

"I could report you, you know." Dan sat at his desk. "I could report you to the authorities."

"For what?" Natalie asked.

"There's nothing to report. You're simply a good friend, doing a favor for another good friend."

Natalie looked at Dana. "What's the favor?"

Dan crossed his feet under the desk. "But I don't want to do it."

"Don't want to do what?"

Dana cleared a small spot off Casey's desk and perched there. "And really, don't worry about the fact that I am your superior and I do have the power to end your career."

"Why are you ending Dan's career?"

"Chris Chelios." Dan and Dana spoke at the same time.

"You're replacing Dan with Chris Chelios?"

"I wish Dan to do me a Chris Chelios-related favor--"

"She wants me to pretend to be her boyfriend to impress Chris Chelios," Dan interrupted.

Natalie took a step towards Dan. "Maybe she is the crazy one."

"I want Chris Chelios to think that I'm an intoxicating, mysterious woman who is maddeningly unavailable." Dana smiled knowingly. "Men like a challenge, Natalie."

"You're a challenge, all right," Dan muttered.

"So this is for real?" Natalie raised her eyebrows.

"Maybe it's all a dream." Dan closed his eyes. "Pinch me."

"It's not a dream." Dana shuffled the index cards. "There are no chickens."

"Dana!"

"You made fun of Chris Chelios."

Natalie pouted. "I did not!"

"You were thinking about it."

Dan sighed. "Please, please go away. Run, fast as your little legs can carry you."

"Okay, we'll go. But I'll be back," Dana promised.

Dan turned his attention to the computer. "I was afraid of that."

* * *

"...So we're padding that out in the 20s, and..."

Dan pretended to cough into his hand. "Unprofessional."

Kim shot a quizzical look at him. "Do you want to share with the class?"

"He doesn't," Dana said quickly. "You were saying?"

"Immature," Dan barked.

Casey frowned. "If you're going to keep doing that, could you please aim it away from my coffee?"

"I will not be silenced," Dan said ominously, placing his hands flat on the table.

"We're trying to get work done," Dana said pleadingly. "Can't we discuss this later, in private?"

"Quite frankly, I'm scared to be alone with you."

Elliot pushed his chair back. "Now it's just getting weird in here."

"Dana and Dan--" Natalie began.

"Thank you, Natalie." Dana interrupted.

"--Are pretending to date."

"Thank you, Natalie."

Jeremy furrowed his brow. "Why are you pretending to date?"

"I'm under duress," Dan explained.

"Dana wants to impress Chris Chelios," Natalie added.

"Oh. That makes sense. Wait -- no, it still completely doesn't."

"You're pretending you're dating?" Casey's eyes twinkled. "That's convincing. Can I pretend I've got an evil twin?"

Natalie grinned wickedly. "You have an evil twin?"

Casey nodded. "Macy McCall."

"So which one of you is the father of my baby?"

"You'll never know, will you?"

"I wanted to work on a sports show," Jeremy said plaintively to Will and Chris.

Casey snickered. "All this time I've been having a torrid affair with -- with everyone in this room. Can I pretend that?"

"You bastard!" Natalie pretended to slap Casey. Casey pretended to slap her back.

Kim slapped Elliot. "Ow!" he yelped.

"That was pretend, you big baby."

"A sports show," Jeremy said, shaking his head. "Not 'As The World Turns'."

"Right," Dana said, pointing at Jeremy. "He's right. Let's talk about work. Chris Chelios is the third segment. Dan, while he's in the building, we're dating and that's all I have to say about that."

"How do I stop her?" Dan demanded of Casey. "You know her better than I do. Fend her off."

"Fend her off yourself. I'm going on--"

Kim groaned. "Say that word again and I *will* slap you for real."

"He leaves me with all the chaos," Dan complained to no one in particular. "Micka Gallows. Dana's lunacy."

"You haven't seen chaos yet," Natalie said.

Jeremy closed his eyes. "Please, please don't say anything about the chickens."

She looked at him coldly. "I was just going to say that all this week we're going to be doing World Cup highlights. And I know how you enjoy soccer coverage."

Dan groaned. "Nobody loves me."

"I'll pretend to," Dana offered.

"Nobody loves me at all."

* * *

Dan leaned against Isaac's doorway. "You got a minute?"

Isaac looked at his watch. "Starting now."

"Casey's going out of town."

"I know. I was the one who insisted that he take some time off." Isaac closed his folder. "He works too hard. So do you. So do all of you."

"Did you know that Dana got Micka Gallows to replace Casey?"

"Dana didn't get Micka Gallows to replace Casey. I got Micka Gallows to replace Casey."

Dan shook his head. "This day just keeps getting better and better."

"I heard that she scares you, and fear makes for good television."

"I don't believe this."

"It's the latest craze. Reality television. People like to see other people in uncomfortable situations." Isaac capped his pen. "Speaking of uncomfortable situations, I heard a little rumor about you and Dana."

"Isn't there some sort of policy against in-office dating?"

"Ask Natalie and Jeremy. I have a story for you, Danny. You might want to get comfortable."

Dan sat in the chair across from Isaac's desk. "A sports story, I assume."

"Got it in one."

"Is it relevant to the situation?"

"Yes, because I know lots of stories about Hall of Fame athletes being terrorized by capable women colleagues."

"I bet you do." Dan cracked his knuckles. "You know how I love your stories."

Isaac smiled. "Everybody loves my stories."

"But I only have a little time, so if we could maybe save it for after the show, I'd be eternally grateful."

"Or you could shut up and listen," Isaac suggested.

"Or that," Dan said, resigned.

"Kerri Strug."

"Kerri Strug?" Dan repeated, incredulously. "You're going to tell me about plucky little Kerri Strug?"

"I am, indeed."

Dan wrinkled his nose. "I thought this was going to be some story about old-time baseball players or, I don't know, lacrosse or something. Not gymnastics."

"Could you land a vault on a broken ankle?" Isaac demanded.

"No," Dan admitted. "But I bet Casey could. He took seven years of gymnastics."

"You've seen Casey when he's in pain."

"Okay, so Casey couldn't pick up a tissue with a broken ankle. The point is--"

"The point is Kerri Strug," Isaac boomed. "Playing through pain is what sports are about."

"Okay." Dan got to his feet. "I get it."

"You do things for the people on your team, Dan."

"I really do get it."

"And I barely even had to tell you a story," Isaac said. "Micka Gallows doesn't bite, Dan. Be brave. Go do your job."

Dan started to smile as he headed for the door. "I'm playing through pain here, Isaac."

"Brave little soldier," Isaac replied sarcastically, as he walked away.

* * *

"Chickens lay eggs," Natalie said, slipping into her chair.

"This episode was brought to you by the number six and the letter F."

She looked sidelong at Jeremy. "Eggs represent new life."

"They also represent breakfast." Dave adjusted his headset. "Two minutes to VTR."

"New life, in turn, represents unlimited possibility." Natalie smiled at Jeremy. "Did you hear that, sweetie? I can do anything."

Elliot ambled into the control room. "Remind me to give you a call if the two of you break up again."

"Show me Atlanta and Reed in Oakland." Natalie looked around the room. "And I'd just like to announce that I have forgiven the person or persons who left a rubber chicken on my desk."

"It was me," Kim piped up.

"Ninety seconds live. Roll VTR." Dave turned around to look at Natalie. "It was my idea."

Kim glared at Dave. "I paid for the thing."

"Preview 2, 2A, and 3."

Natalie nodded. "Show me the graphics for Baltimore."

"Where's Dana?" Elliot asked.

"She's meeting Chris Chelios," Jeremy answered. "She's embarassing the entire Sports Night family as we speak."

Kim made a move towards Elliot and he flinched. "Don't hit me again."

"I was reaching for a pen."

"Near my face?"

"Sixty seconds live," Dave boomed.

"You will be my Duchess, my Duchess of Earl." Dana entered the room, beaming. "He's even more handsome in person."

"Chris Chelios?" Natalie grinned.

"Chris Chelios." Dana took her seat. "I think he loves me."

"Thirty seconds live."

Natalie took Dana's hand. "What'd he say?"

"He said hello."

Dan spoke up from the set. "Did he ask about your soft drink preferences?"

Dana leaned close to the microphone. "There's still time, my sweet."

"Ten seconds live."

"Good show, everybody."

"...three, two..."

Casey folded his hands on the desk and smiled at the camera. "Good evening from New York City; I'm Casey McCall alongside Dan Rydell. Those stories plus we'll take you to Philadelphia for cheese-steak and fastballs, Atlanta for grits and home runs..."

Dan's face held a plastic grin. "...And Brazil for huevos and soccer highlights. All that, and repeated use of the word 'smorgasbord.' Stay tuned to Sports Night on CSC."

"We're out. Ninety seconds back."

"Huevos," Natalie said gleefully into the microphone.

"That was all for you," Dan told her.

"Be careful," Dana said. "I'm a jealous girl."

"That's it. Come down here."

"We're live in just over a minute, Dan."

"Come down here," he repeated flatly.

"Fine," she grumbled, taking off her headset and tossing it down.

Jeremy watched her go. "He's in trouble."

Natalie shook her head. "She's in trouble."

"Sixty seconds back," Dave called out.

"We're all in trouble," Jeremy said.

Casey rolled his chair back. "She's all yours," he murmured, as Dana stalked into the studio.

She leaned down close to Dan. "What are you doing?"

"I'm doing your show," he answered calmly.

Dana sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "Why does this have to be such an ordeal? I ask you to do one little thing--"

"I've done it," Dan said, drumming his fingers on the anchor desk. "Under protest, I admit, but I've gone along with your little festival of crazy because I owe you this. I owe you this and many more favors. But you know you ought to be thinking about whether this makes any sense at all, because it doesn't, and you know it. Back me up, Casey."

Casey held his hands up. "I'm so happy not to be in this."

"You're not on vacation yet!"

"Thirty seconds," Natalie warned them over the intercom.

Casey slid his chair back into back into position. "Dana, go impress Chris Chelios with your wit, wisdom, and beauty, and stop bothering Dan."

Dan nodded. "This is what I'm saying."

She drew back from the desk and looked at Dan steadily, amusement flickering across her face. "You were having fun."

"I was not."

"You were having fun pretending to date me and complaining about it." She chuckled. "This could have developed into a serious fictional relationship."

He grinned at her. "Get off my set."

"Get back to doing my show," she retorted over her shoulder.

"Festival of crazy?" Casey asked.

Dan made a face. "I'm starting to sound like you."

* * *

Dana stepped into the greenroom, turning on a brilliant smile as she closed the door behind her. "Mr. Chelios."

The guest stood up from the couch and returned the smile. "I told you, my friends call me Chris."

"I just thought I'd come back and wish you a good show one more time."

"I appreciate that."

"So, have a good show," she told him.

"You too," he replied warmly.

"I am, so far." She clasped her hands behind her back. "Are your kids staying up to watch?"

"I hope so." He slipped his hands into his pockets. "Maybe I should have brought along some naked baby pictures."

"I'm sure they'd love that." Dana paused and then blurted it out. "I'm not dating Dan Rydell."

Chelios raised his eyebrows. "Okay."

"I mean, it might have gotten around to you. But there's nothing going on between us. I'm not dating Dan Rydell."

"I had heard something about it," he admitted.

"Office gossip," she said. "But really, I'm not--"

"Dating Dan Rydell," he concluded along with her.

She glanced sheepishly at her watch. "I should get back to the control room."

"Take care now."

"Have a good show," she said, retreating toward the door.

"You too," he replied, bemused.

Out in the corridor, she took a deep breath and leaned against the wall for a moment before hurrying away.

* * *

"Good show," Natalie declared, dashing into the studio cheerfully with the rest of the crew close behind her.

"Good show," Dan agreed, leaning back in his chair.

"It was good, and more importantly, it's finished." Casey stood up and looked around triumphantly. "I'm leaving on a jet plane."

"Yes, but do you know the way to San Jose?" Dan quipped, getting to his feet. "Seriously, man. Think of me when you're basking in the glory of nature, doing things that men do. And when Micka Gallows is sitting in your spot, resting those big meaty arms of hers on our desk, I hope you know I'm thinking of you."

Casey grinned and swung over the corner of the desk. "I may never come back, you know. I could grow a beard and buy a shotgun and live off the land."

Kim laughed. "You'll come back with fifty mosquito bites whining about how you got a sunburn!"

He glared at her. "I'll ignore that, because I'm feeling generous. The point is, I may stay out there, in big sky country, dozens of miles from the nearest town. It could happen. So if you guys ever wonder if it was nice to know you, I tell you now that it was."

Natalie put her hand to her lips. "That was sweet, Casey. That was truly sweet."

"Music!" Dana cried, and tossed a CD to Elliot.

Dan laughed as the opening beats came through the speakers. "You're going to dance?"

"I'm dancing! If this was 'Footloose', I'd be arrested!" She reached for Dan's and Casey's hands and pulled them away from the anchor desk. "Duke, Duke, Duke of Earl..."

Chris Chelios folded his arms and watched the beginnings of a party developing among the cameras and lights and sound equipment. He turned to Natalie. "Wow."

Natalie bounced up and down slightly in time with the music. "Hmm?"

"Is it always like this here?"

"No," she told him. "Sometimes there are giant chickens running around."

He opened his mouth and closed it again. "Ah."

"It means we have limitless possibility." She looked across the floor and smiled at Jeremy. "I'm gonna go dance with that guy now."

A bewildered smile spread across the hockey player's face as he watched her go. "This is some show."