New Author's Note: I hated the way chapter one turned out, seriously, the tense changes multiple times and it was just not up to my standard of writing so I went back and fixed it. It is now him at twenty-one looking back on how everything began and then flashes forward to the "present," at least I hope that's what happens… Reviews Awesome.

Original Author's Note: This is my first "Life With Derek" fic. (I usually write Final Fantasy VIII fics). If it does well, I will continue to post what I got. So if you read it and like it, let me know. Reviews always welcome, good or bad, just so long as it is constructive. As always, thanks to Jesse Static for the editing. She is awesome. That's all.

Chapter One:

"Love" Through Discovery

When we were sixteen, my step-sister and I started… a fling, I guess. She was still "with" Sam, my best friend. But she was actually with me. Their romance fizzled out months before; At least for her. That's why she hooked up with me. But poor old Sammy boy thought all was right as rain. Such nieveness. She was only using him as a cover. It would've been hard for me and her to "carry on" if our parents knew, or our siblings. I almost felt sorry for him, almost.

It's not like we could sneak off to the other's house when parents were out; we lived in the same house. The ideal situation of, "my parents are going out of town this weekend" would've never happened, if they knew. We would have never been alone. Not to mention they were and still are holding out for us to be brother and sister like Edwin and Lizzie are. That's not happening now. Not after what happened between us almost two years ago.

It would be stupid of me to say I never saw it coming. Oh boy did I and was I hoping it would. My God, with the sexual tension that had built up between us, how could you not? I knew though, that it would never happen. We were too alike to do anything but bump heads but also, too alike for it not to happen. We were both spoiled and used to getting our own way. But Princess Casey was no match for King Derek. I mean seriously, king trumps princess, always. It's historical.

If you're looking for an exact moment for when my attraction to her started, try the first day. But if you want an exact moment for when I wanted her in a less than brotherly way, good luck. It was during the party when we were stuck in the bathroom fighting with shampoo and toothpaste, or whatever it was. It was that English project we did together and her risking her lacking social status to get me a better grade. It was the glorious Babe Raider day, when I saw Casey than I ever had. It was the day she chose Sam and my heart broke. I can't deny that fact, Lizzie saw my face. I do know this however, after one particular heated fight over the remote, things got a little out of control.

I was sitting in my chair watching TV on a Saturday morning. Well not really, I was kind of surfing around for anything that didn't suck. Then out of nowhere, Casey comes in and yanks the remote from my hand and changes the channel, taking a seat on the couch.

"Give that back," I demanded, reaching over the chair. She quickly pulled the remote from my reach.

"No, you've had it all day, it's my turn."

"I haven't been awake all day," I said launching from my seat and retrieving the remote from her clutches. "Besides don't you have homework to do?" I returned to my original position. She let out a cry of anger.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Casey lunge at me, but I was quicker, and jumped from the seat, leaving her in a heap on my chair. But to my surprised she recovered quickly and clamped a hand on the remote. She stood and we began a tug-of-war thing with the remote.

"Give it to me, Derek," she demanded, I could see her face now clearly red with fury.

"Watch it, Klutzilla, wouldn't want you to bust your ankle again," I challenged, clearly overpowering her in this power struggle.

"Oh that's mature," she yelled. All I can tell you about the next part is, when in a tug-of-war situation on hardwood floors, wear shoes. Because, before I knew it, Casey had managed to lose balance and we were both on the floor, hands still clamped on the remote.

"Nice move, Klutzilla," I said, trying to hide the pain I was in. Now I am not saying she was heavy, but I don't care who it is, when you break someone's fall, pain is inevitable.

"You are so annoying," she squealed in anger, trying to get up and pull the remote with her. However, I was smarter than that and yanked the remote and her back on top of me. That's when our lips connected. And I am not saying that in a romance novel way, that's just how it happened. It was awkward, you can imagine, but neither of us pulled away. Then again, when you kiss me, you don't want to pull away. There was none of those movie glorified fireworks, I don't believe in that crap, it just felt really good.

It got less awkward though as our fighting continued. I mean it's not like right after that kiss we were like, "hey let's date." No, we did what anyone would do in that situation, pretend it never happened. We went back to our normal thing, I make fun of her, and she pretends not to be annoyed by it and so on. But there was still like this tension between us, I mean thick. It was like every time she looked at me I knew all she was thinking, "Oh my God I made out with him a few days ago." Outwardly though, it was like it never happened.

We avoided each other for a month. But of course it didn't last. We couldn't ignore that the kiss was really nice and soon all of our fights ended with my tongue in her mouth.

Take for example this one time she burst, without knocking, into my room and started bitching at me about leaving my hockey gear out for everyone, meaning her, to trip on. So I yelled at her that if she would watch where she was going it wouldn't be a problem. Then she said something, then I said something, then BAM, she was under me on my bed and my tongue was exploring the wonders of my step-sister's mouth.

I was surprised, to say the least, when she told me she wanted to continue... whatever it was. See, she never saw me as the "sweet guy Sam was." No, she saw me as the jerk who objectified women and went from one to the next without sticking to just one. Just because I played the field and had posters of half naked hot chicks on my wall doesn't make me a bad guy. Ask any of the girls I went out with. I mean some woman objectify men. I am ogled by girls all the time, do you hear me complaining? Okay, that one time her friend, Emily was watching me swim in her pool, but that was like stalker watching.

You really can't consider what me and Casey had a relationship. I mean we really didn't or couldn't go out on dates. All we did was hang out without fighting, make out and eventually have sex. Nope, never mind that seemed like the usual Derek Venturi relationship. But I don't sleep with all the girls I "date." I have standards, there are some girls you just make out with but don't sleep with.

I would be a liar if I said I was in love with her. I was seventeen; I was in love any girl that let me discover the mysteries of what makes guys and girls different on the old couch. Oh if that thing could talk.

I loved the way she made me feel when we fought and… other things. With her, I actually had to work for it. For the other girls, all I had to do is smile and bam, puddle. Well, that's all I still have to do, really.

The key to any good... whatever you call what that was… is fighting. Trust me, going to bed angry can lead to good things, especially when you're parents are out of town.

Oh, what a weekend. Parents out of town on honeymoon, the little kids in their rooms sleeping soundly and the doors shut, and me and Casey on the old couch discovering more differences. Well, for her anyway. Apparently good old Sammy boy just couldn't seal the deal. I did, and that's why I am really the King of Babes.

I came downstairs after a short struggle to get Marti to bed and there was Casey, waiting patiently on the couch. The TV was the only light filling the room. She was still mad about an earlier argument; I don't remember what it was over anymore.

"Marti asleep?" she asked not turning to me.

"As soon as her head hit the pillow," I answered, hopping over the back of the couch and into the empty spot beside her. I grabbed the remote and muted it before turning to kiss her. She quickly pulled away and looked at me.

"I am still mad at you," she said.

"Shut up," I replied and moved my head back to kiss her. She didn't complain after that. It had been a very long time since we had gotten any alone time. Finals were coming up and Casey had to over-prepare as usual. Not to mention Dad and Nora lurking in every corner. Not that they were suspicious or anything, it's just they seem to pop-up out of nowhere when we finally thought we had a moment. So we were both very desperate for this.

Slowly, while my tongue explored her mouth, my hand wandered up her shirt as it always did in those kinds of situations. To my surprise, this time rather than her insisting I keep my hand on the outside of her shirt, she moaned into my mouth to proceed. Pressing my luck, I moved my hand up the bottom of her bra, groping at her soft breast. This led her hips to trust upward into mine, which, in my mind, was the best move she could make.

At this point I knew there was a ninety-five percent chance I was getting lucky; so long as the five percent chance I say or do something stupid or she over thought it, didn't happen, we were good. That five percent disappeared, of course, the moment I felt her hands start to undo my belt.

When I felt her failing to undo the piece of leather, I relinquished my tongue and hand, sitting back on the couch. She laughed silently at her inability before I moved my hands to help her. I think you can figure out what happened after. Sorry, but I don't feel like describing my sexcapades with my step-sister to a group of strangers. You understand.

We knew whatever it was couldn't last though. I mean we were just young, hormonal step-siblings who carried on in secret. Like I said, it's not like we could be seen in public together and with alone time being very limited, things tend to just, fizzle out, you know? And it didn't last. Before long there were more and longer fights and less make up… anything.

Months after the fact, Casey decided that there was no way it could work out. She was tired of sneaking around and cheating on Sam. God, what a freaking girl. "What if I got pregnant or something?" she asked. Ha, could you imagine me getting her pregnant? How cliché and over-played would that have been? As for the "or something," I was not and still not gonna try and figure her out on that one. "Or something."

"Are you serious?" I asked her, my eyes bugging out of my head with disbelief. "You are worried about getting pregnant?"

"Well it does seem to be a side effect of sex," she replied in a "duh" kind of way. I mean it's not like we were having sex all the time, and we were always careful about it. But, we called it off at seventeen. The spark, the excitement, the romance, the thrill, the lust, was dead. Bitter emotions replaced those that died; Anger, spite, resentment. Then words altogether stopped. One year after that and she moved away to her fancy college.

I stayed back here. Even with hockey no school could offer me a scholarship with my GPA. "Liability," they called it.

"You see, Derek," the coaches all told me, "the school can't offer you money for a sport where it's liable you will be ineligible to play because you are on academic probation."

They doubted me. Looking back, I guess I couldn't blame them, with my previous track record. But at the time I was so pissed. I guessed not everyone is willing to give you a chance to prove your past wrong. Benefiting the doubt is too risky to some people.

Without scholarships, no one would accept me. Except of course Community Colleges. My dad was slightly disappointed I couldn't go to a "real college." But he was happy I was going to something that ended in College.

She came home for winter break. Despite the separation, tensions were still as thick as the day she left. I spent that entire break in my room or out of the house. Dad and Nora didn't notice that me and Casey were never in the same room together for too long. They did notice that we only spoke to each other when absolutely necessary.

"The best way for us to not fight," Casey told them when they finally noticed, "is to ignore each other."

They protested it at first, saying we should try to work out our differences. They didn't know the half of it. But after a while they stopped, because the fights did.

By the end of next term, I got a well enough paying job and moved in with a hockey buddy downtown close to campus. I rarely go home anymore.