Work Text:
May 20th, 2016. 11:00 PM.
"Well," Natalie says, as the clock strikes 11, "I think we can safely say show is definitely not starting on time."
Most of the crew's in the control room, watching the game on a side monitor, as the Rangers and Islanders battle in a second period of overtime, looking to break the 1-1 stalemate.
"I mean, they're good teams, right?" Chris frowns. "I don’t watch hockey, but I feel like they have to be to get to this level?"
"They're good teams," Jeremy says, and adds darkly, "at least one of them is."
"So why do they look like they're trying to lose?"
"That is ridiculous!" someone says loudly. "Ha! Ha!"
"Okay Boyle, time to go," says a woman, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him out of the room.
Natalie blinks. "Anyone have any idea who those were?"
*
Detective Diaz drags Detective Boyle by the ear to Dan's office.
"Where did you disappear to?” Dan says.
“The puppy ran away,” Diaz says flatly.
Boyle ducks his head. “Sorry. I’ve just always wanted to see what the control room looks like. Huge fan.”
Diaz looks skeptical. “You watch Sports Night?”
“Oh no,” Boyle chuckles. “Huge fan of competent sound editing.”
Diaz rolls her eyes. “Anyway. That’s not what we’re here for.” She turns to Dan. “Peralta said you guys have an archive of game footage we can access.”
“Upstairs,” Dan says, and beckons them after him. “Case, let me know if they’ll need for the broadcast.”
Casey’s eyes are glued to the screen, where the Islanders have been playing keepaway for about five minutes. “Given that you just called both team owners and told them that if anyone wins the game before the cops finish doing their work someone might die, I don’t think that’s going to happen.”
Dan gives him a thumbs up.
“Oh, that was you?” says Diaz, following Dan through the hallway. “Thanks man. Real solid.”
“Yeah, Jake and I are tight,” Dan says drily.
“He talks about you all the time,” Diaz says.
“Really?”
“Nope.”
“Actually,” Boyle says. “Sometimes when he’s trying to hit on girls.”
Diaz grunts. “That’s possible.”
“Well, here we are,” Dan says, letting them into the room, logging them in on two separate stations and showing them where to pull up tape from different angles. “Is there… anything I can do to help? Like I told you, we have a great team of researchers.”
Boyle rubs his hands together as he settles in. “Thank you, Mr. Rydell, but this perp is a master of disguise. Rosa and I just need to find--” he cracks his knuckles-- “his pattern.”
“Less talking, Boyle,” Diaz says, clicking away.
Dan leaves them to their work.
*
In the control room where everyone is gathered, the game goes on.
“This is torture,” Jeremy says. “Literal, actual torture.”
“There, there,” Natalie says, patting his back.
“I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen a worse game than this,” Dana says, riveted.
One of the Rangers sends a long pass down the rink which is completely missed by both his teammates and the opposition. A fight breaks out. Six players are sent to the penalty box, three apiece.
“That seemed really necessary,” Natalie says.
Jeremy moans. “I want to die.”
During a timeout, the camera pans to some crowd shots, and the broadcasters happily talk over the KissCam. The camera pauses over a couple creeping up one of the aisles, who pause and freeze when they notice they’re on the jumbotron. For the fraction of a second their faces are visible, Dan recognizes not-very-covert Detective Jake Peralta.
The woman he’s with pushes up to kiss him, turning her back to the screen, hiding their faces. “Quick thinking,” Dan says under his breath. The camera cuts away.
The second overtime period ends, still tied at 1-1.
Dan takes a break from the thrilling action of nothing happening on the ice to go back to the office.
"Any updates?" Casey asks when he sees him.
Dan shrugs.
:"You know, I know you, but even I'm a little puzzled by your whole attitude towards this."
"Oh?"
"I mean, you just helped the NYPD contact two billionaires and got them to order their employees to play badly for as long as it takes for the cops to catch some bad guys disguised somewhere in the arena."
"Yup."
"We're essentially watching an action movie unfold in front of us. Can't stop playing till it's done. This is like Speed."
"Except more like Slow."
"And still. Lives are on the line! Our show's been cancelled--"
"--postponed--"
"--postponed, and here you are, just... shrugging it away."
Dan nods. "You know what would make me, you know, care."
Casey sighs. "If it were baseball."
"If it were, say, baseball," Dan agrees.
On the TV, analysts from two floors down are discussing the Rangers' abysmal powerplay, and the Islanders' equally abysmal penalty-taking.
"Well," Dan says, folding his hands behind his head. "At least I don't have to think of a good pun for the third."
Casey snorts. "Oh, I threw my script in the trash twenty minutes ago."
Ten minutes later, the third period of overtime begins.