Archive of Our Own

May 21st, 2016. Midnight.

"Show's over," Dana announces, when their slot's officially up. "Good job, everyone, good show."

The control room fills with a smattering of high fives from everyone except Jeremy, who says, "Do you know how long this game has been going on?"

"Four and a half hours in real time," Natalie says, "two-hundred-and-five game minutes?"

"Ten thousand years," Jeremy replies. "This game has been going on since the dawn of history, and will continue to go on, overtime after overtime, history spanning forward in increments of twenty-minutes one after the other until the end of time."

"Well, that was bleak," Dana says.

"The truth is harsh," says Jeremy hollowly.

The Islanders fumble a pass, and for a brief, fleeting, breathtaking moment, everyone watches in slow motion as the puck bounces and rolls into the Rangers' net. No one dares say anything, which turns out to be wise, as the goal is called back by the refs, having taken place a second after the buzzer signaled the end of the third overtime period.

Jeremy whimpers.

Dan's phone chimes. He glances down.

nailed him!!!!!!

A series of texts immediately follow.

not literally that wd b police brutality

just cuffed him warrant & all legit

thx for your help you rock

ps no matter what rosa or santiago say none of this was my fault

pps i will send your mother a gift basket for Shavuot

There's a knock on the control room door; Detective Diaz is rapping her knuckle against the window. Dan steps out.

"So we're done here," Diaz says.

"I heard," Dan says, holding up his phone so she can see the screen. Peralta's latest text is simply :DDDDDDDDDDD. "So what happens now?"

"Our squad's brining in the perp to the station," Diaz says.

"And you can call the uh, slavemasters—" Boyle starts.

"—team owners," Dan says.

"—and tell them to," Boyle gestures grandly, "unleash their hounds."

"Right," Dan says. "And you still need this kept… on the down-low."

"This guy already has a copycat," Boyle says apologetically. "That really would be best until we've got that entire crew locked behind bars."

"Well, that's not going to be a conflict of interest for me at all," Dan says.

Diaz level of caring appears to be just under minimal. "We're going now," she states.

"Bye!" Boyle waves back as they leave. "Thanks for your help! Sorry your show was canceled!"

The door swings closed behind them. "Postponed," Casey says, out of nowhere, making Dan jump.

"Jesus, someone should put a bell on you," he says, and starts following Casey through the bullpen.

Casey snorts. "Or I could just switch shoes with you," he says, leading Dan back to the control room, just in time for Dana to say, "Hey there, Squeaky." Casey grins at Dan.

"Ready to go live?" Dana asks. "Network's pushing back the schedule, you're gonna be on for a game recap and general update when the game's over."

"Good thing I didn't throw out my script," Dan notes, and Casey rolls his eyes. "I just need to make a couple phone calls, and I'm all yours."

Dana nods absently. "Make 'em quick," she says, already busy with overlooking graphics.

*

Dan and Casey wait for a cue, mic'd up in the studio. It's the fourth period of overtime. Casey is literally just watching the feed on his phone.

Dan pushes his mic aside. "I really did think the game would like, end, when the whole cops thing blew over," he whispers.

He takes a look at the screen. The players are skating slowly, sluggishly. One of them falls over and kind of just glides to the bench until he's stopped by the friction. Someone helps him up and takes his place on the ice.

"I mean, look at them," Casey says, "they're too exhausted to play anymore."

"I guess it is a little sad," Dan admits, switching the mic back on.

"Look at you." Casey grins. "Getting emotional over a hockey game."

"Someone just end it," Jeremy says brokenly in their earpiece. "Someone. Anyone. I can't take it anymore."

"I don't think my marriage can take it," Natalie pipes in.

Dan nods in the direction of the control room. "See, that's emotional."

*

Six hours and four minutes after the game started, it ends with the Rangers scoring a weak, rather accidental goal on a borderline inert Islanders netkeeper. Joyous shouts and claps ring through the studio.

"I quit," Jeremy declares in their ears.

"Quit after my show's done," says Dana. "We're on in sixty, get ready."

Jeremy groans. "Sports are the absolutely worst."

Casey grins at Dan. "Sports are the best, eh?"

"Eh. Oh god, all this hockey is Canadiafying you, isn't it," Dan says with mock horror. "That's it. No more hockey till…"

"…Game 2," Casey finishes for him brightly. "Three days from now."

"…I'll take it," Dan sighs.

"And in five," Kim counts, "four…three…two…"

"Good evening. I'm Casey McCall, alongside Dan Rydell, and like you, we've spent the last six hours watching the thrilling adventure—"

"—or bizarro twilight zone—"

"—that was tonight's quadruple overtime Game 1 of the Eastern Conference NHL Final. We're going to talk about that—"

"—and then we're going to talk about that some more, right after this break. You're watching Sports Night on CSC, so stick around."

*