A/N: This is not a song fic, but it is loosely based on Jennifer Hudson's version of "One Night Only." I did use some of the lyrics in the story (so maybe it is a song fic?). Ten points to anyone that can point them out.
Disclaimer: Every girl has her own special dream. And that dream's just about to come true. So, in about five to seven business days I should have the rights to LWD and Dreamgirls.
OOOOOOOO
Tomorrow it would all be over. No more waiting in line for the shower every morning; no more having to eat meat instead of tofu because she lived in a house full of blood-lusting carnivores; no more constant arguments with Derek--tomorrow morning all of that would officially be no more. And, oddly enough, Casey was going to miss all of it.
She hated waiting for the shower, but she loved catching sight of Derek's shirtless, wet body when he emerged from the bathroom. Rare meat literally turned her stomach, but sitting across from Derek at the dinner table gave her butterflies. Being bested in a battle of wits by a guy who'd had to repeat the first grade did nothing for her pride, but knowing that she was the only person who could work him up so much that he started panting and stuttering did wonders for her confidence.
Anything involving Derek did wonders for her. Period.
When she got on that plane for University she knew she'd miss her mother and sister terribly. Through thick and thin, good times and bad, they had stuck it out together. Really, they were about as close as a mother and two teenage daughters could be. And she'd grown accustomed to George, Edwin, and Marti too. They may not have been blood, but she loved them just the same.
However, Derek was another story entirely. Casey did not love him just the same. There was nothing family-like about the way she felt about him; well, unless one thought about it in the Dollanganger family sense. She may have acted as if the very sight of him repulsed her, but the plain truth was she wanted him.
Now, Casey wasn't unrealistic. She wasn't one of those girls with a body image problem; Casey McDonald knew she looked good. And she knew Derek liked good looking girls, so, really, it should've been easy; but it wasn't. Nothing ever was with her.
For two years she'd been mentally psyching herself up. 'You can do this,' she'd think to herself. 'He probably wants you just as much as you want him.' But, alas, these mental pep talks did not work. Casey would march into his room all prepared to tell him how she felt, and end up choosing to bitch him out for how messy his room was or something else just as silly. The girl who'd been prepared to lecture the entire school about how harmful teasing could be was too scared to confess her true feelings to a crowd of one; it was sad, really.
Tomorrow it would be all over though, so Casey was trying, one last time, to stop being a coward. Just like she would be doing, Derek was going to be getting on a plane tomorrow, so it was now or never.
She'd kind of waited too long though. Even if she did confess, she knew that nothing substantial would come out of it. Derek didn't really strike her as the type of guy who would leave for college with a girlfriend. Which was really too bad, because she had no doubt that she could love him forever.
Oh, yeah, she loved him alright. There is no way she would've been thinking about doing what she was thinking about doing if she didn't love him.
Glancing at her notebook, Casey began to mentally check off items. 'Bottle of Vodka? Check. Envelope? Check. One shot glass? Check.' She took a deep breath. 'Okay I have all the necessary items, all I have to do now is put my plan into action.'
Taking another, longer, deep breath, she poured herself a shot. It took a long moment for her to work up the nerve to actually raise the glass to her lips, but she eventually did it. After all, if worse came to worse, it was all going to be over tomorrow and she wouldn't have to see Derek again for a long time.
Hopefully, long enough that he'd forget she had made an ass of herself.
OO
Thirty minutes and five shots of vodka later, Casey found herself stumbling towards Derek's room. At around the third shot, she'd began thinking that maybe this wasn't the best idea, but if two years of cowardice had taught her nothing else, it'd taught her that there was no way she could discuss her… sexual feelings for him while she was stone cold sober. Plus, if this turned out to be a monumental mistake she could always fall back on the time tested "…but I was drunk" excuse that women of all ages had been employing for years.
Not bothering to knock, Casey pushed her way through the door.
Derek was lying on his bed, eyes closed, listening to his ipod, so it took a second for him to realize that somebody was in the room with him. When he did notice Casey, who was lounging against his closed door, he gave her a knowing look.
"You couldn't sleep huh?" He smirked. "I wouldn't be able to either if I were you. I mean, think of all the new, more clever nicknames the other college students will be able to give you. I bet--
"Shush," she cut in, "be quiet for a second." His talking was making her head spin, well, spin more than it already had been.
Hearing the slur in her voice, Derek sat up and gave her a wide-eyed look. "Are you drunk?" he asked in disbelief.
Walking over to him carefully, she shook her head. "No," she said, faintly.
He cocked an eyebrow. "Really?"
But Casey didn't hear his disbelieving question. All she could hear was the phrase 'It's now or never,' which was running on a loop through her mind.
Steeling herself and praying she wouldn't stumble or completely miss his mouth, Casey leaned down and kissed him.
And Derek let her for a minute, that is, until he came to his senses. Pushing her away, he said, voice eerily calm, "Yup; you are definitely drunk."
Rolling her eyes, she went to kiss him again but he jumped off his bed and out of the way.
"Jesus, Casey," he swore, "stop it."
"Derek--
"Look," he stopped her, before she could start. "Just wait here and I'll get you some water; you need to sober up. There is no way you'd be acting like this if you weren't drunk."
"That's not true," she yelled, her voice almost a dead ringer for a whiny four year old.
Putting a finger to his lips, he shushed her. "Do you want Nora and George to hear and wake up?"
Casey shook her head and repeated, this time whispering, "that's not true."
Derek eyeballed her trying to figure out if the ridiculously low whisper was her way of being a smartass. He eventually decided that rather than being a smartass, she was just drunk off her ass.
"Here, look at this," she said, frantically, waving an envelope that she'd just pulled out of her pocket in his face.
Derek sighed, but he took the envelope, broke the seal, and began reading the letter anyway.
Dear Sir,
Derek stopped reading and gave Casey a look.
"Sorry," she said, sheepishly. "Force of habit; keep reading."
He rolled his eyes, but did as she said.
Dear Sir,
I, Casey McDonald, being of sound mind and body, do hereby declare that I would like to have sexual relations with Derek Venturi before we depart for separate locations tomorrow.
Derek's eyes about popped out of his head, but Casey simply instructed him to "keep reading."
As I write this letter I am very much sober, and, contrary to what one might believe, I am quite serious. At the moment of this letter's opening I will truly want nothing more than to engage in sexual activities with Derek Venturi, something I feel we can both benefit greatly from.
Derek couldn't read anymore; hell, he could hardly breath.
Was it his birthday? Had Christmas come early? How else could the granting of a wish he'd had since the McDonalds had moved into his house be explained. He didn't have any illusions that he was in love with Casey or anything, but he knew he liked her, wanted her. That's why he always reverted back to a kindergartener when she was around. He could be Denzel-smooth with any other girl, but around Casey he magically became a hair puller. To hear she wanted him too, well, it seemed too good to be true. Was it?
"Wait- how do I know you're serious?" he wanted to know.
"Did you read the P.S.?" she asked, confused.
Derek glanced back at the paper.
P.S. I have enclosed a condom on the off chance that you (Derek Venturi) may not have one. Safety first!
A gurgle of laughter escaped from his throat. 'Safety first, indeed.'
"You wanna have sex tonight?"
She nodded.
"With Me?"
Another nod.
"Care to tell me why?"
"No; not really." They had one night together, and she sure wasn't going to blow it by telling him she loved him. She wanted to spend their last night together as his girl, not spend a night trying to find him after he found out her secret and went running for the hills.
He gave her a long hard look, willing an explanation to fall out of her mouth. But after a couple of minutes he stopped. Since when had he been one to look a gift horse in the mouth?
"Okay," he sighed, "let's do this." As he sat down the envelope, minus the condom, he asked, "is there something in particular you'd like me to do first?"
Casey wasn't too drunk to blush to her roots. "Umm… whatever's fine," she mumbled awkwardly.
He leaned in to kiss her, but a sudden thought had him stopping. "You're not a virgin are you?" He'd do a lot of things, but taking a drunk girl's virginity wasn't one of them.
Sensing that he wouldn't proceed if she said yes, Casey lied. By the time he figured out the truth--if he figured out the truth--he'd probably be too far gone to stop; at least she hoped he would be.
Sighing in relief, Derek leaned in again, only to end up stopping again. "You do realize," he searched for a delicate way to put it, and finding none said, "that nothing can come of this?"
Humph, she knew better than he did. "Of course," she responded. "So can we please stop talking and get down to business?"
Derek saluted her, mockingly, but this time when he leaned in to kiss her he didn't stop for a very long time.
OO
Hours later, when the sun was steadily rising and alarm clocks were just moments away from going off, Casey rose from Derek's bed and began gathering her discarded pajamas. In seconds she had on her tank top and boy shorts, but she couldn't make herself leave his room just yet.
Glancing around, she caught sight of his luggage in the corner, his passport and plane ticket on his desk, and couldn't help but sigh.
It really was too bad that things had to be like this; because she had no doubt that she could love him forever. The only trouble was, they really didn't have the time.
The End!
A/N: I've wanted to write a fic based on this song for months now, and about two hours ago this story just sorta started writing itself. I hope y'all enjoyed it.