When The Universe Is Laughing by Owlet
 
 

Casey stared at the ceiling of his bedroom and wondered when his life had become such a cosmic joke.

So much had happened in the past few days, his head was spinning. He'd kissed Dana. Danny'd kissed him. He'd been getting ready to go out with Dana--their first date!--and for the first time, he'd been open about it. He even told the costume designer, for God's sake.

Only to be told by Dana that he needed to date other women for six months.

It's no wonder most prophets were unappreciated in their own time, Casey thought darkly. If all their "epiphanies" were like Dana's, it was amazing they weren't hung up by their toenails.

Or by their balls. Which was where Casey was right now.

It was Saturday night. The dinner reservations he'd made had gone by long ago, while he ate macaroni and cheese in his apartment and stared at the clock. He hadn't eaten much-no appetite. And for some reason, television just didn't appeal to him right now. He couldn't stop thinking--uneasy attempts to analyze the kiss he'd shared with Dana--*be honest with yourself*--the kiss he'd *pushed* on Dana, and the kiss he'd gotten from Danny--*be honest with yourself*--

Well, that was where he was confused. What *were* his feelings about that kiss? What *was* the truth?

The only thing he was sure about was that Danny had kissed him. He had not kissed him back. Much. Maybe only in the last second or so. Possibly somewhere in the middle.

Surely not from the second he'd felt Danny's lips on his, warm, firm, and his coffee-scented breath in his face, and tongue sweeping his mouth. Surely not.

He tried to remember the kiss with Dana. Remembered reaching for her, holding her tight, her breathless, startled, eager face turned up to meet his. Remembered bending his head to hers...

He couldn't remember the kiss. He remembered the stunned look on her face after, the flush on her cheeks, her moist, reddened lips. He remembered what it felt like to hold her, taste the lingering traces of her lipstick, stare into her eyes. But he couldn't remember the kiss.

Was he going crazy?

How was it he could remember every detail, every emotion, every touch, when his best friend kissed him--his *male* best friend!--but he couldn't even remember whether or not he liked it when he kissed one of the most beautiful women in the world. Surely he'd liked it.

Because Dana was a woman, right? It wasn't *normal* to remember everything about some guy's kiss, and completely forget the woman! Surely he'd liked it, because Dana was a woman, right?

But Dana--pretty, blond, smart, sexy Dana, the Dana he'd yearned for all these years--he couldn't remember what Dana tasted like when he kissed her. He remembered Danny had tasted like coffee and heat and laughter, making him feel warm and cocooned and desperate for more. *Why?*

Maybe this all was normal when you didn't kiss a lot of men.

But this wasn't just any guy, was it? This was *Danny.* This was his best friend. This was the best man at his wedding. This was ten years of friendship and shared experiences and memories. This was Danny Rydell, and all that came with it.

And the kiss had been Danny's way of showing him what a *real* kiss was.

He shied away from that thought, not ready to deal with the implication of that, and the action made him think of something else.

Maybe he needed therapy.

Yeah, that was it. He just needed a good therapist. Some guy with ten diplomas on the wall, to nod knowledgeably and ask probing questions and tell him exactly why he was obsessing over his best friend while doing nothing to prevent his abortive relationship with Dana from plunging over the edge into the Twilight Zone.

But for now...

He reached over and grabbed the phone. Danny was in, he could ask him. He wouldn't mind.

**************

Danny answered the phone with "It's four in the fucking morning, Casey!"

"How did you know it was me?" he asked. Danny groaned.

"Casey, what do you want?"

"Do I need therapy?"

There was a long pause. "If I say yes, can I go back to sleep?"

"No, seriously. It's why I'm thinking about you instead of Dana," Casey explained patiently.

There was another long pause. "Casey, what is this about?"

"Dana had an epiphany."

"That's nice." A resounding yawn sounded over the line. "Casey, don't take this the wrong way, but you have ten seconds to tell me why you woke me up at four in the morning."

"She wants me to date other women."

"She said what?"

Danny sounded as stunned as Casey had felt when Dana had first dropped her bombshell. It was more than slightly gratifying. At least I'm not the only person who thinks this is a bad idea, Casey thought smugly. "She said she wanted me to date other women for six months."

"And *this* was her epiphany?" Sarcasm at twenty paces--dueling the Danny way.

"Apparently so." Casey pushed himself off his bed and began to pace.

"Huh."

Casey stopped abruptly and his grip whitened on the handset. "What does that mean?"

Danny sounded surprised. "Mean?"

"Yes, 'mean.' The meaning of a phrase. What does 'huh' mean?"

He could almost picture Danny's face. "It means huh, Casey. What are you talking about?"

"Do you think she...saw?"

"Saw what?" Realization dawned. "Oh."

"Yeah."

There was a long silence.

"Nah," said Casey, aware that this wasn't quite the confident dismissal that he would have hoped for.

"Actually, Casey, I think she did." Danny, on the other hand, sounded like he was smiling.

"What?!"

"Yep." And now Danny was definitely enjoying himself. "I think she saw the whole thing. I think she's just using this as a way to string you along, then drop it on you when you least expect it. She's devious, Casey. It's all part of her nefarious plan--heck, she's probably already planning how to take over the world." He was chuckling softly, obviously having fun yanking Casey's chain.

It's too early in the morning for this, Casey thought, dazed. "Dan..." Casey wondered where his headache had come from. He wondered why Danny was talking like this. "Dana wouldn't do that."

"And yet she did."

"No," Casey maintained stubbornly. "She said yes, she kissed me--even if I don't remember it--she wouldn't *do* something like this." Unspoken but obvious, even to his ears, were those telltale damning words, "to me."

"You don't *remember*?" Finally, he'd managed to shock Danny. Terrific. Another long pause.

"Casey." For once, Danny's voice was completely sober. "I'm sorry, man--but she *did* do that. I don't know if she saw us or not. I really don't care if she did. But if she's doing this to you, for whatever reason. then there's a hell of a lot more going on than just what we did. Ask yourself that.

"Ask yourself who really needs the therapy."

Casey stared at the wall, numb. All the things he hadn't wanted to admit, all being said in in words he couldn't ignore. He could hear Danny breathing slow and steady on the other end, and it grounded him. His world was being tossed like a salad, and he was trying to keep from being eaten. He hadn't even known he was on the menu.

"What's she doing, Danny?" he asked finally.

"I don't know, Casey," came the quiet answer. "I really don't know."

In the silence of the open line, Casey swore he could hear someone laughing.

The End