Ok, this is the first fic I've written in a long while. It's an idea that came from a discussion with a friend a few weeks ago that won't leave my head and thus had to be written. I know I'm not a great talent, but I had fun writing this, so go easy and I hope you have fun reading it.


Midnight at McDonalds

It was 1:30am on a Sunday, and Derek was standing in line at McDonalds, instead of bumping and grinding with the local youth. Since reaching legal drinking age, Derek had been having far less drunken fun than he thought he would. Before, he and his underage friends were forced to do their drinking at house parties, which suited Derek just fine. There was more room, the booze was usually cheaper and there was a place to pass out when he'd had enough. But now it was like everyone expected them to go to clubs and go dancing and drinking – the dancing Derek did was usually following copious drinking - and pick up random chicks and live the wild life.

Only the clubs in Ontario didn't seem to be the same as the clubs on TV. On TV, there was actually room to dance, or at least room for Casey to dance and a place for Derek to sit and watch her move. On TV, you couldn't smell the moving bodies, which is good, because in a hot, cramped club full of drunken people, the smell was usually an oh-so-delicious mix of sweat, cheap perfume, beer, and vomit. On TV, the chick the sleazy guys were trying to feel up wasn't your step sister.

So, after hopping from club to club with his friends, each place more unappealing than the last, Derek and Casey had finally stopped off at the nearest McDonald's, ditching their friends, who seemed more than happy hanging with the unwashed.

Derek couldn't pinpoint when he and Casey became friends – or at least, a close facsimile of friends. Senior year of high school probably. After living with somebody for a few years you either become more comfortable with each other, or you kill each other. The killing each other option came pretty close a few times, but they had eventually settled into a weird little friendship, with only the occasionally major blow up. Derek was the only one who could push Casey's buttons and really make her explode, and Casey was the only one worth antagonising, because she was the best at fighting back, and this had eventually produced a mutual respect. They needed each other to keep life interesting, and to stop each other from going soft.

George and Nora were surprised, but felt it best not to poke the sleeping bear, instead leaving their oldest children to their freaky friendship, feeling comfortable knowing they could ignore the yelling and fights because now Derek and Casey could sort it out themselves. Not fighting hadn't really occurred to either of them – where was the fun in that? Besides, their fights lacked the same edge they once did. Soon, they were going to the same university – and ok with that idea – and friends with the same group of people – and again, neither of them had a problem with this.

All of which ended up with Derek and Casey, hanging out in Mickey D's at the wee hours of the morning, after having ditched their friends and the local club scene, for somewhere with real light and free chairs to sit on.

Derek finally got to the front of the line, ordering a meal for himself and Casey. By the time he had paid and received his goods, Casey had finally emerged from the toilets. As they sat down, she tried to push the cash for the meals on to him, but he waved her off. It was dumb, but he liked the idea of buying her a meal. It was sort of like they were on a date, only she had no idea, and she wasn't going to put out at the end of the night. Unfortunately.

That was another thing that had changed since their first few years as step-brother and sister; His attraction to Casey, or at least, his ability to admit his attraction to her. There are only so many times you can 'accidentally' walk in on your step-sister changing before you have to admit that the feelings you're having aren't exactly brotherly, he told himself. His crush on Casey really was getting out of hand; it was creepy and totally wrong. It was like he needed a copy of 'He's just not that into you' or something. Because that much was clear – she was clearly not interested. Unlike Derek, Casey had been actively involved in the college dating scene.

Derek's semi-celibacy had been a matter of some gossip their first year of college. For somebody so socially active for his entire teen life, the fact that no girl could tempt him these days rose more than a few eyebrows. But admitting he liked Casey was like a curse, one that made him unable to make out with the random female population. It was like every girl he met wasn't smart enough, or pretty enough, or as much fun to argue with. Casey, however, seemed to find nothing lacking in the boys at school. And being Casey, they definitely didn't find anything lacking with her. Every Friday night, it seemed, she was out with some new boy, though none seemed to keep her interest for long. And Saturday nights were for dancing with Derek and the rest of their friends. And lately, it had been dancing for a few hours, and then junk food with Derek till way into Sunday, chatting and laughing and making Derek fall more and more in love.

So he made do with fake-dates. And the warm feeling he got when he thought about the fact that while she may kiss all those other boys she dated (he refused to entertain the possibility that they did more than this. Thinking about her kissing other boys was painful enough; the idea that any clothing was removed in the process was enough to make Derek put holes in walls.), she had a standing Saturday night date with him (and all their other friends) and he was positive she liked talking with him more.

Right now, she was babbling on about her lit class and the paper she had to write about biblical imagery in Blake. "I didn't think you really believed in God?" he asked.

"It's not about believing, it's about finding the connection to the bible – imagine the bible is just another book that Blake makes reference too – those references are what I'm trying to examine and study." She took a small bite of her burger before saying, "how did you know I don't believe in God?"

"I don't know, you just always refer to God in make-believe terms, like that debate you had with Emily on the phone a few months ago; what was it you said? 'If God did exist, I don't think he would really be too concerned with the sauce stain on your new skirt'?" A year ago he would have been petrified that sharing this attention to detail might give him away, but she was, as always, ridiculously obtuse, so he felt comfortable sharing his observations.

"I don't sound like that!" True to form, Casey had ignored Derek's almost-creepy photographic Casey memory, and zeroed in on the high-pitched voice he had adopted when imitating Casey. Her outrage had caused her to raise her voice a few octaves, making her sound more like Derek's poor imitation than she usually did, much to his amusement. At his laughter, her voice got even higher "I don't!"

"I don't!" he impersonated, even higher than his original version.

"Der-ek!" The way she said his name would go on the list of his favourite sounds. He just liked that she had a special way of saying only his name. He liked that he had an extraordinary place in her world.

"Space-ey!"

She stuck her tongue out him and the childish face-making competition that followed drew many a weird look from nearby tables.

Two hours, three french fry fights, one ice fight, (that ended in Derek splashing water down the front of Casey's top, a not entirely un-pre-meditated move) and a billion casual kicks under the table later, their friends finally decided to join them. Sweaty and exhausted, they regaled them with amazing tales of broken hearts and feet. Tim, a psychology major who'd tried and failed to pick up Casey their first week of classes, spun a detailed story of love and betrayal with a 'devastatingly beautiful blonde.'

"It's funny how you managed to meet this girl, fall in love with her, impress her with your 'steller moves', 'share an amazing experience' with her in the ladies room and then lose her to a 'douche with a pink shirt' and then find a 'luscious redhead' to replace her, all in the space of time it took Mark to get turned down by only three women. Are you sure this story happened exactly as you say it did?" Casey asked.

"Abso-freaking-lutely. Would I lie to you? When have I ever told you something that wasn't 100 true?" When Casey just raised an eyebrow, he chuckled and leaned closer, "if you wouldn't be so picky, we could share our own experience, what'd'ya say? There's a bathroom right there, and if I'm not mistaken, it's cleaner than the one I was recently getting down in." At Derek's growl, he moved back, but the smirk was firmly in place. While Casey may remain blissfully unaware of Derek's crush, their friends were not so blind. They mostly stayed out of it – all of them had given up trying to convince him to make a move already, and Tim in particular found it particularly funny to hit on Casey just to make Derek mad.

Casey, used to Tim's advances, simply rolled her eyes and started gathering their trash. "Let's head home guys, it's late." As she walked to the front door she said over her shoulder, "can I crash on your couch again Derek?" Derek was renting a place off-campus that was more private than their dorm rooms and Casey crashed there occasionally after night out. Derek was half totally in love with this plan because it gave him more Casey time, and half totally against it because it made him seem like more of a creepy stalker guy and he lost sleep lying there thinking about her being asleep in the next room. Not that she hadn't slept in the room next door for years when they were teenagers, but this time there were no parents hanging around to stop him from making that move he was probably never going to make.

"Sure... that does mean you're cooking me breakfast right?"

"Oh, absolutely," she said sarcastically.

"You could maybe be a little more creative this time; your average omelette can be a little bland."

Casey grinned and stuck her finger up at him and kept walking. "Shut your pie hole."

He grinned back. "Pie isn't really a breakfast food, but I won't turn it down."


TBC - Please review, I promise not to take constructive criticism the wrong way. Also, I'm not Canadian, I'm not even American, so I'm sorry for any errors based on cultural differences.