Notes: Hiiii! This is just a fun oneshot I did at like 4 in the morning. Reviews are love. And… I own absolutely nothing except Michael Seat's body.

The Naked Window.

Casey looked up at the glass window. If there was one thing she liked about George's house, it was the naked window. At least that's what she called it. In their first week at the house, Marti broke the shades off of the window, thus dooming it to nakedness forever. Casey chuckled.

She could never sleep at this time of night. Come to think of it, it wasn't really night, but really a state of inbetweenness. The time after the ink-filled skies of dead night, but before the egg yolk of dawn starts peeking out. The time when the sky is just a dark blue and nothing else. Casey liked the inbetween.

Even though she couldn't see around her room, Casey had memorized it. The pink and green conforter from Target. There was a heart drawn in blue ballpoint pen on the bedspread's underside, and she knew exactly where. There was also a purple stain from when Marti had decided to host a "tea party" in Casey's room (the tea was really grape juice).

She thought about the desk with drawers. Perfectly organized. She had even labeled each one of the drawers after her different school subjects. "Math, French, Science, History," claimed bold black letters. Labeling kept everything in order. Casey wished she could label everything in her life. She could label Marti. Cute, sweet… a handful. And George. Constantly worrying, but always with good intention. How would she label Derek? What would the little letters say? Messy? Irritating? Completely and utterly confusing. That's what they would say. If Casey ever tried to give him a label, he would immediately contradict it. Maybe she would just forget about the labels for a while.

Casey heard her door creak open a crack and a small triangle of light from the hall filing in. She was too lazy to look up. It was probably Marti. Although she usually went to Derek's room when she was scared, Marti occasionally came to Casey's room when the "evil dragons" were attack. Casey lifted her head a fraction of a centimeter off of her pillow, and even with her eyes bleary from sleep, she could tell that someone was there. She closed her eyes again for a moment. Casey heard barefoot feet tip toeing across the hardwood floor. When Casey looked to her left, she saw him standing, all shaggy-morning-haired and groggy, wearing one of his numerous hockey T-shirts and plaid boxer shorts.

"Move over," he said in a tired voice, his own eyes barely open.

Casey tried to stifle a "Whaa…?" of protest, but no sooner had he shoved her aside and fell into bed next to her. For a few centuries, they lay in silence, neither of them falling asleep, but neither of them clinging to awakeness. They were both flat on their backs, facing the ceiling. Casey was too exhausted to be confused, simplying thinking about the blue outside her window and nothing else. Finally he rolled on his side facing Casey. He slowly slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her across the yellow bedsheets towards him. Casey decided to give in. Her head felt like it was filled with lead, and besides, she had all of tomorrow to fill with confusion. Casey burrowed her head into his chest and let him hold her. She always hated herself in the inbetween; it was when she made her most rash decisions. But she allowed herself to be rash. Because if not now, then when? He gripped his arms even tighter around her. She could picture them under the comforter and bedsheets His arms circled around her lower waist a tad bit under the red long-sleeved shirt. She couldn't see anything, on account of the fact that she was now resting her forehead to his chest. Could she hear his heartbeat? That was really cheesy. Casey laughed out loud.

"What?" he said, titling his head down and smiling at her. This whole time he had been looking up at the naked window. He moved away one of the hands that had been gripping her waist and moved a stray brown curl out of her eyes. She could feel his fingers sweeping across her face as he tucked the piece of hair behind her right ear. He was still smiling. For some odd reason Casey could not stop giggling. "Shhh…shut the fuck up," he whispered, still sounding exhausted. Usually she hated it when he cursed, but right now it seemed so cute. So tired and cute… "Shhhh…you wanna wake everyone else?" he said. But she could see him grinning. He pressed his index finger to her lips to make her stop laughing. Casey fake-bit his finger and pretended to growl.

He pulled her even closer and she draped her arms around his neck.

"You crazy," he whispered in her ear.

"Crazy, crazy," she whispered back.

They were both silent for a while until finally Casey broke the void.

"What's gonna happen tomorrow?" she asked him. There wasn't any humor in her voice now.

"I don't know," he replied. But he stuck out his tongue playfully at her, and everything was right again. They fell asleep under the naked window, and tomorrow, Casey knew that all would be forgotten.

"What's going to happen tomorrow?" Casey whispered and looked up at him.

"I don't know," he whispered back, his eyes almost closed and his lips curled in a half smile.