Five Kisses (Involving Casey and Derek)

1.

He turned, and she was right there. A girl, his age, brown hair tumbling down her back, blue dress and black heels. "Hi." Her voice was cheery, girly.

"Hey."

She looked down at the placard in her hand, then back at the table. She shifted her weight, hitching her purse higher on her shoulder. "Table five, right? I guess this is my seat."

"Guess so."

She sat down delicately, tucking her ankles beneath the chair demurely. She set down her purse, looking around, one line furrowed between her eyebrows. "Um…I'm supposed to be sitting with Nora McDonald, though?"

He tilted his head, pretended to think. "Never heard of her."

"Oh." She bit her lip, a bit of her gloss wearing off. "Well…"

"I'm Derek." He extended his hand and she shook it. Her skin was warm and dry and her nails were painted bright blue.

"So do you know George?"

"You could say that."

She nodded. "I barely know him. I mean – I'm Nora's daughter. Oh sorry, how rude of me – Casey McDonald."

"Casey." He tested the name out, rolling it over his tongue.

"Yeah. She's my mom. The bride, I mean."

"I figured."

"It's so weird, I haven't even met his kids yet. This whole thing's just happening so fast – " She shook her head. "I shouldn't be talking about this."

"No, no, it's fine." He sat forward, intrigued by something he couldn't put a name to. "So you…don't want them to get married?"

She considered the question carefully, and he liked how she tilted her head a bit while she thought. "Not really…? That's a horrible thing to say. I just wish they would take it a bit slower is all." She shook her head a little, straightening her spine. "But she's happy, so I'm happy." He noticed that she scrunched her eyebrows together when she lied.

"Uh huh." He wasn't controlling the conversation for once, instead sitting back and choosing to listen rather than talk. He found it…interesting.

"So where do you go to school?" she asked.

"Thompson," he replied. "I'll be in grade ten in the fall."

"Me too!" she exclaimed, then visibly calmed herself. "I mean, yeah, me too. I'll be transferring after we move in with George. Maybe we'll see each other around."

He caught sight his father dancing with her mother on the other side of the banquet hall and quickly turned his gaze back to Casey. "Uh, yeah. I think we will."

She was staring at the table. She grabbed a fork and started playing with it idly. "Cool."

"Yeah." He saw his dad and Nora start to move off the dance floor and quickly made a decision. "Hey." She looked up. He scooted his chair closer and captured her mouth in a short kiss, hearing her drop the fork with a clatter. He waited long enough for her to respond, then quickly pulled away as George and Nora neared. "Nice to meet you," he said, moving out of her personal space as their newly-wed parents join the table.

"Oh, you've already met!" George said boisterously. "Casey, don't listen to anything he says about me, okay? I'm really a wonderful father."

Casey's eyes widened and she looked over at Derek accusingly, but he was already on his feet. "Yeah, you're spectacular, Dad," he said dryly. "I think I saw Sam here earlier, though, so I'm gonna touch base with him before the food comes."

"All right, Derek," Nora said pleasantly, joining a rapidly reddening Casey.

"You were right though, Nora, she's a very charming girl." He grinned and turned on his heel, heading for the banquet hall doors without another word.

2.

"I cannot believe you made out with my cousin."

Derek rolled his eyes. "Are we seriously still on that?"

Casey stomped her foot, glaring sourly at him. "Yes! That's…that's gotta be illegal, or something."

"Illegal," Derek repeated flatly. "How's that, exactly?"

"Um, duh?" Casey started tapping her foot, like she always did when she thought he was being stupid. "You and I are related, she and I are related. Therefore, you and her are related."

"Please." Derek scoffed. "Related by marriage. Doesn't count."

"Oh really."

"Really." Derek leaned against the wall. "Hate to break it to you, but you and I? Not family, in real sense of the word. Hence me and Vicky? Not wrong." He smirked. "Well, maybe a little wrong."

Casey sneered at him. "You're sick."

"And you're a prude."

"She's your…stepcousin! Or something. How can you be okay with that?"

Derek paused briefly, giving her a look she couldn't decipher. "I just can."

Casey scoffed derisively. He turned on his heel abruptly and headed down the hallway to his room. Casey followed, biting out words at his back. "What, are you gonna see her again? Have you thought about what Mom and George would say? What Fiona would say?"

"Oh, because Fiona proved herself as such a role model," Derek drawled. He ducked into his room and tried to slam the door in her face, but she caught it with her heel. "Can I help you with something?"

Casey scowled at him. "Leave Vicky alone."

Derek raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry, are you her mother?"

"I'm her cousin!"

"The same cousin who calls her Icky Vicky?" Derek got in her face. "Yesterday you were dumping cake on her and laughing."

"That was an accident!" Casey rebutted. "Like she wasn't doing worse to me – you saw how she treated me!"

"So what?"

"So you made out with her anyway!" Casey said furiously. "You knew that she – and you just – "

"What?" Derek bit out.

Casey sputtered momentarily, flustered. "It's wrong," she finally said, firmly. "You're related, end of story."

Derek's jaw tightened. "I thought we'd been over this."

"Step or not, you shouldn't have – "

"That doesn't matter!" Derek exploded.

"It does!" Casey yelled back, arms tightly crossed over her chest.

"I only met her a few – "

"That doesn't mean you can just – "

"Would you shut up?" Derek grabbed her neck and slanted his mouth over hers, angrily pushing her backwards into his desk.

She pushed him off of her a split second later, panting. "What – "

"Doesn't matter," he said firmly, taking a huge step back. His hands visibly shook as he ran them through his hair, trying to calm down.

"You're an asshole," she spat, and turned and ran out of his room as fast as her legs could carry her.

"Find a new record, Case, that one's broken," he called after her, slamming the door shut and collapsing against it.

3.

"Schlepper can sing!" Derek punched the air in frustration. "I can't believe it. What a rip off."

Casey walked beside him morosely, kicking a pebble with her foot. "Give it up, Derek. We sucked."

"We did no such thing. Did you see the applause we got? They loved us." Derek pulled his arms behind his head, stretching the muscles in his arms. "Schlepper just tricked them with that whiny, emo song, is all."

"It was a good song. The part where he sang about the bully stealing the girl he had a crush on? Oh, I wanted to cry…" she trailed off, seeing him glaring at her. "But yeah, what a dork. God."

He exhaled. "Never mind."

"Why are you upset about winning? You got a band together, everyone loved you. You're still the king of the hill."

"I barely got an actual band together in time. We would've been booed off the stage if you hadn't shown up in time." He threw her a sidelong look, quickly looking away when she caught him.

"What are you trying to say, Derek?" Casey asked slyly, a smile slowly spreading across her face. "Are you trying to thank me?"

"No," he said quickly, scoffing. "I'm not sure I can thank you for something you made me sign a contract for."

"Hey, the nice clause is still in affect. That means you have to do nice, polite things for me. Including thanking me for doing you a favor I didn't have to do."

"Get real."

She frowned, frogging him in the arm. "Be nice, Derek."

"Okay fine." He heaved a long-suffering sigh, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk and throwing himself to his knees, grabbing her waist. "Thank you Casey, for saving my band and my life. How will I ever repay you?"

She rolled her eyes. "How stupid of me to think you would act like an actual human being for once."

He looked up at her from the ground, still hanging on to her waist. "Hey, you're a lot easier to listen to from down here."

She gasped and kicked him, moving out of his reach. "Pig."

He wheezed out a laugh, clutching his stomach and falling backwards. "Ow."

She crossed her arms, regarding him critically. "You know, just when I think you have a conscience, you go and prove me wrong."

"Oh come on, Casey, I was joking." He stretched out on the pavement, staring up at the sky idly. "Pull up some cement, chill out for a while. You can pretend to like me for a few minutes."

"We have to get home," she said, looking around nervously. "We told Mom and George we'd be home before eleven."

"They can wait." He motioned to the sidewalk. "I don't bite."

"We can't just lie down in the middle of the street, Derek, it's the middle of the night!"

"It's also the suburbs, Case, the worst thing we'll run into is a dog with a bad attitude." She huffed, sitting down gingerly next to him. "Come on," he prompted, and she lay backwards, situating herself on the hard cement.

"Happy?"

"Kinda."

She looked upwards, stars emerging from behind the inky backdrop of the stormy sky. "I used to do this with my dad," she found herself saying. "He taught me all the constellations."

"You know all the constellations?"

"Most of them." She pointed at a group of stars to her left. "That's the bear, Ursa Major. Aand…Draco the dragon."

He was quiet for a moment. "What else?"

"Well, that 'M' shaped one is Cassiopeia. She was a queen who claimed that she was more beautiful than the gods." She hazarded a tentative look at Derek, who was silent, looking up at the sky. She went on. "The gods punished her for her vanity by ordering her husband to sacrifice their daughter, Andromeda."

"Heavy punishment."

"Yeah." She smiled, remembering late nights on the roof with her father, listening to his stories of faraway lands. "So the king chained Andromeda to a rock by the sea. But the hero Perseus sailed by and rescued her, killing the sea monster that wanted her." She pointed to the star sequence again. "Cassiopeia still needed to be punished, though, so the gods threw her into the sky upside down, making her look ridiculous for all of eternity."

"Tough break."

"Well, yeah." She leaned her head backwards, tilting her chin upwards. "I always wondered why Andromeda couldn't save herself, though. It's always the prince that saves the princess."

"That's kind of how it's supposed to be."

"It doesn't have to be," she said, bristling. "Sometimes the girl can save the guy. And if she did, then the least he could do would be to thank Andromeda for saving his ass."

He sighed woefully, taking the obvious hint. "Thank you for saving my ass, Andromeda."

"You're welcome." She smiled, appeased.

He sighed, checking his watch. "We better head home."

"Yeah." She watched as he arose, holding out a hand to help her up. Surprised, she studied it for a moment before slowly accepting his help, allowing him to pull her to her feet. The momentum pulled her forward, stumbling into his chest and she stumbled, grabbing at his collar. "Sorry."

"Uh huh." His expression was inscrutable as she jerked her hands back, stumbling back a step.

She laughed nervously. "So, uh, it's getting late, and – mmph!"

She was cut off as he grabbed her waist and jerked her forward, effectively silencing her with a clumsy kiss.

Her first instinct was to pull away, but a spark of heat fluttered down her skin and settled in her stomach, and she instead took a step forward, hands hesitantly coming up to grip at his neck.

As quickly as it started it was over, and Derek was pulling back, smiling sheepishly. "You were saying?"

"Uh…" She took a shaky breath, hands flickering around her face. "We have to get home."

"Great. Race ya." He grinned and started jogging in the direction of their house.

She sputtered, stunned for a second before growling in frustration and taking off after him. "Der – ek!"

"You're slow!"

Breathing heavily, she clopped after him, trying in vain to keep up with his athletic stride. "Yeah, well – you look lame in eyeliner!"

"So do you!" He reached the step of their house first, smiling triumphantly. "I win."

She came up beside him a few seconds later, panting. "Yeah." She narrowed her eyes, glaring at his smug expression. Acting on impulse she straightened up and grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him into a second kiss. She pushed him away a second later, smirking at the surprise on his face. "So do I." She breezed past him into the house, smiling as she heard him quickly follow.

4.

"I can't believe you're making me do this."

"Hush." Casey studied her script, mouthing the words to herself.

"Casey," Derek whined, slouching in his seat. "I don't wanna do this."

"Derek," Casey snapped. "Shut up. I'm trying to concentrate." He leaned in and blew carefully in her ear, smirking as she pulled away, shuddering. "Derek! What is your damage?"

"This," he said, floating the script in front of her face. "Why am I here?"

"You're here because you need to save your English grade," Casey said dangerously. "And you're here with me because for some reason, George convinced me to help you."

"For some reason."

"Derek…"

"Fine, fine. Look at me, reading." He exaggeratedly opened the script to a random page, only to have Casey snatch it away. "Hey!"

"You're auditioning for the part of Mortimer. Which means you have to read from scene eighteen." She flipped his script to the right page and gave it back. "Just through it and make sure you have an idea of what's going on."

"What is this play anyway?" Derek asked, skimming over the words with a frown on his face. "What the hell are they talking about?"

"It's called Arsenic and Old Lace," Casey said patiently. "It's a famous play and a movie. Now, read."

He slumped in his seat, keeping his eyes on the page for Casey's sake. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye a few times, huffing when she kept her eyes diligently glued to her script. "Who are you auditioning for?" he prodded, trying to capture her attention.

"Abby Brewster," Casey said primly, eyes not moving from the page. He sighed loudly and she smacked him without looking up. "Read!"

"Fine, fine." He skimmed the scenes he'd been given, frowning grumpily. "This was a movie?"

"Cary Grant played Mortimer," Casey offered.

"Oh, okay. Here I was thinking it'd be a lame movie," Derek said sarcastically.

"It's funny," Casey defended.

"Funny?" Derek rose an incredulous eyebrow. "The main characters are two old ladies."

Casey glared at him. "Just read, Derek."

"Caa-seyyy…"

"Do you want to flunk English?" Casey hissed warningly.

Derek scowled and slumped down into his seat.

"Derek and Casey?" Macy Bristow, the assistant director of the play, stuck her head out, motioning to the two. "We're ready for you."

"Brilliant," Derek said. Casey grabbed his shirtfront and pulled him to his feet.

"Take this seriously," she warned, dragging him after her into the auditorium. "I mean it, Derek. You can do this, you just have to try."

"Okay, okay. Let go of me." He shook her off irritatedly. "I'll try, okay? Jeez."

"Good."

Casey walked out onto the stage, blinking in the brightness of the stage lights. Eyes adjusting, she gradually came to see Mr. Goode, the drama teacher, sitting in a seat in the audience.

"Derek Venturi and Casey McDonald for Abby and Mortimer?" Mr. Goode said, reading from a clipboard.

"Yeah. I mean yes," Casey said, slight nerves creeping up on her. Derek merely rolled his eyes beside her.

"All right. Why don't we take it from scene six? Macy, fill in lines for Martha."

Casey nodded, flipping her script to the appropriate page and turned to Derek. He looked at her blankly and she cleared her throat, eyes moving to his script surreptitiously. He shrugged, and she huffed, smacking his arm. "Scene six, your line, moron!"

"Oh yeah." He looked down at the script in his hand, shuffling the pages until he found the right one. "Okay." He straightened his spine. "Teddy's killed a man…darlings." Casey rolled his eyes at his unenthusiastic delivery.

Macy, who was standing off to the side with a script of her own, jumped in as Martha. "Oh, nonsense!"

Derek, on time this time at least, replied with his line. "But there's a body in the window seat." Casey watched him, seeing the visible moment when he started to take interest in the script. She should've figured it'd be the dead body thing.

"Yes dear, we know," Casey said, in character as Abby.

"You know?" Derek shot back incredulously. Casey quirked a smile, it almost seemed natural.

"Of course," Macy said.

"Yes, but it has nothing to do with Teddy," Casey said, gesturing with her left hand as she held the script in her right.

"But – but – " Casey had to hide a smile. Derek usually got the hang of these things pretty quickly.

"Now, Mortimer," Casey cut 'Mortimer' off, "you just forget about it. Forget you ever saw the gentleman."

"Forget?!" Derek squeaked.

"We never dreamed you'd peek!" Casey called, scandalized.

"Good! Great." Mr. Goode cut them off. "Okay. Derek, you stay as Mortimer. Casey, go as Martha this time. Macy, fill in for Abby."

They ran the scene again, this time with Casey and Macy's parts switched, and Casey had to squash down a pleased smile several times as she saw Derek getting more and more into it. She just knew Derek would be good at this, she thought with a satisfied burst of delight. Someone would be eating his words later.

"Okay. Now let's go to…scene three, it's on the last page of the packet. Casey, you read Elaine while Derek sticks with Mortimer."

Casey froze, blushing heavily. "But – " she sputtered. "Mr. Goode, I'm reading for Abby."

"Yeah, you read for Abby. Now I want you as Elaine." Mr. Goode waved off her protest. "Just do it."

Derek, not catching on, flipped to his page. Casey shot a panicked look at Macy, who shrugged and smirked, walking back to her chair at the edge of the stage.

Casey sighed, flipping to the page. She winced, avoiding looking at Derek as she delivered her first line. "Well, that's a fine thing," she started, pausing as she took a deep breath for courage. "We're married one minute, and you're throwing me out of the house the next!"

To his credit, Derek tripped over the realization only slightly before proceeding with his line nearly seamlessly. "I am not throwing you out of the house!" he exclaimed. "I am not, I am not throwing you out of the house. I am not throwing you out of the house," he repeated, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her over to an imaginary door. "Will you get out of here?" He shoved her lightly through the imaginary doorway, smirking.

"Go back!" commanded Mr. Goode. "Go back, go back. Scene twelve. Go."

Derek frowned, stepping back and flipping through his script. Casey bit her lip, flipping her own pages, paling at the scene that was marked with a twelve at the top. "Um, Mr. Goode, I don't think – "

"Go! Read, read!"

She huffed and sighed. "Mortimer, really!"

Derek quirked his mouth slightly. "Yeah, yeah, I know that bromide. Something borrowed, something blue – old, new! Rice and old shoes, carry you over the threshold, Niagara Falls – all the silly tripe I've made fun of for years. Is this what I've – "

"Stop!" Mr. Goode waved his arms. "Closer. Act it out."

Derek hesitated then, while Casey fidgeted and blushed. "Uh – "

"What loving couple stands so far apart?" The drama teacher smirked. "Closer." Casey carefully avoided looking anywhere near Derek's face as he moved in close, his chest brushing her shoulder. "Good. Beginning."

"Mortimer, really!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know that bromide. Something borrowed, something blue – old and new. Rice and old shoes, carrying you over the threshold, Niagara Falls – all the silly tripe I've made fun of for years. Is this what I've come to?" Derek's voice was mocking, the same drawl he'd used to make fun of her for years. "I can't go through with it. I won't marry you and that's that." He smirked, and Casey could feel his gaze on her face.

She plastered a lovesick expression on her face and stared at his chin. "Yes, Mortimer."

"What do you mean, 'yes, Mortimer'?! Aren't you insulted? Aren't you going to…cry?" Casey bit the inside of her cheek to keep from giggling at Derek's overenthusiastic confusion to go along with the line. He leaned in, staring intently at her as he deliberately tried to make her laugh. "Aren't you going to make…a scene?"

She smirked. "No, Mortimer," she said in the same adoring tone, yet she met his eyes, a defiant expression on her face.

"And don't 'no, Mortimer' me either!" Derek exclaimed. "Don't…don't you see, marriage is a superstition, it's a …" he checked the script. "It's old fashioned, and – " he checked the script again, aware of Casey watching him intently. "And, um – " he shot a look at Mr. Goode, then sighed and grabbed Casey's neck, pulling her into a kiss.

"Brilliant!" The teacher's voice had them wrenching apart, Casey stumbling slightly as she jerked backwards. "Callbacks, both of you. Tomorrow night."

He waved his hands, shooing them out of the auditorium. Macy rose from her seat and swept them back out into the hallway, a small smirk on her face. She pushed them out of the stage doors, shoving a pair of scripts in Casey's hands. " Six o'clock. Be on time," the girl said simply, whirling around and entering the auditorium once more without another word.

Casey shifted nervously, staring at Derek's left shoe, the handout crumpling in her hand.

"So…"

She jerked at the sound of her voice, chin tilting upwards slightly. "So…"

"So…is there a sex scene in this thing?"

She flushed, automatically reaching out to slap him. "No."

"Damn." He bumped her shoulder with his, snatching one of the scripts from her hands. "I told you this was a good idea." He smirked and sauntered down the hallway.

Casey's eyes narrowed as she chased after him. "It most certainly was not your idea…"

5.

"Casey!"

Casey ignored the voice, striding out of the restaurant, tears blinding her vision. Hearing rapid footsteps behind her, she searched frantically for an escape route.

As if descending from the Heavens, a flash of black caught her eye and she whirled, seeing Derek's ratty old Honda pulling into the parking lot. She made a beeline for the car, opening the passenger seat before it even stopped moving and slipping inside.

"Casey?!"

"Park," she ordered. "Out of sight."

Derek looked baffled, but kept on driving past the parking spot in the front row, instead going for a spot in the back corner, around the side of the building.

Casey stared out of the window sullenly, seeing Max exit the restaurant, rumpled and worried-looking. He looked around a few times, but not seeing Derek's car, threw up in hands in exasperation. She watched him shake his head and stride angrily back inside, letting out a breath of relief once he was finally out of sight.

"Let me guess," Derek's voice drawled, and Casey jumped, momentarily surprised by the break in silence. "He called you fat again."

"He didn't call me fat," Casey protested. "He called me statuesque. And no, not this time."

"Uh huh." Derek raised an eyebrow at her. "So are you going to tell me why you hijacked your way into my car?"

Casey shrugged, finally feeling the shame and embarrassment kick in. "I'm sorry. I just…I couldn't deal with it."

"No big," he said nonchalantly. "What happened?"

Casey pressed her lips together and shook her head. "What are you doing here, anyway?" she asked instead. A mental flash of Lacy Wexler, Derek's latest flame-of-the-weekish, gave her a stab of discomfort.

"Meeting some of the guys from the team," Derek said. "They're planning some thing to Toronto this weekend."

"I'm sorry," Casey said again. "Go ahead and meet them. I'll catch a ride home."

"With who?" Derek asked.

"Emily? I can call her – " Casey reached for her purse, realizing with a gasp that she'd left it inside. "Crap!"

"Your purse is in there, isn't it?" Derek sighed. "How do you manage to make it out of the house every morning, I have no idea."

"I really don't need this," Casey said. "Please, just…no insults, not right now. Please?" She hated how thin and reedy her voice sounded.

"That wasn't necessarily an insult," Derek said quietly. "Look, I'll get your purse, okay? Chill out here."

"No! No, Max is still in there, he'll see you and ask about me and I can't – "

"Okay, okay." He reached out a hand to her shoulder, stilling the frantic flow of words. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Okay, I'll figure this out." He squinted out at the parking lot, then pulled his cell phone from his pocket.

"What are you doing?"

"Hush." He flipped it open and dialed quickly, raising it to his ear. "Hey, man, it's Derek. Yeah, I'm here, but I can't come in…something came up. Listen, Casey left her purse in the restaurant, you think you could run it out to me?" He listened for a second. "What's it look like?" he asked.

Casey sighed, leaning her head back against the seat. "It's black leather. Not very big, with metal loops for a strap." She gave a small smile at Derek, overwhelming relief washing over her.

"She says it's black with metal loops. Leather." Derek quirked an eyebrow at Casey. "No, I don't know what designer it is, Sam. Maybe you could ask your boyfriend."

Casey snorted, swiping at his arm. "Meanie."

"Okay, I'm around the corner. Yeah, she's with me." Derek fell silent, listening to Sam for a moment, then looking at Casey out of the corner of his eye. "Um, I dunno. Just don't tell him anything."

Casey snapped her head to look at him. "Is Max bothering Sam?"

Derek shook his head. "Yeah, in a second." He flipped it closed, tossing the phone onto the center console. "Nah. Sam's nosy."

"Thank you," Casey said softly, letting her eyes flutter closed. Derek was silent, and when Casey peeked an eyelid open, he was looking at her with an inscrutable expression on his face. "What?"

"Nothing." He blinked. "You're welcome."

Casey's brow furrowed, but she kept silent, closing her eyes once more.

After a few minutes, Casey felt Derek's hand brush her wrist, and she opened her eyes and sat up to see Sam jogging across the parking lot, purse in hand. "Thank God."

"Sam the Man comes through again." Derek pressed a button on his side and her window rolled down, letting her lean out of the car and accept the purse from him.

"Thank you so much, Sam," she said, dropping it at her feet.

"No problem." He leaned down, one hand on the hood of the car. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah." She smiled shakily and hugged him awkwardly through the window. "Really though. Thanks."

"I retrieved a purse. Lassie could've done it."

"And looked prettier doing it too," Derek added.

She shook her head. "Thanks," she said again, unable to think of anything else to say that wouldn't sound dramatic or dorky.

Sam smiled softly at her, connecting eyes with Derek over her shoulder. "You're welcome."

"I'm gonna take her home, Sam," Derek said. "Just fill me in on everything later."

"Okay."

"I'm sorry about stealing him away," Casey said.

"Eh, it'll be better without him anyway," Sam joked. "No guacamole on the nachos."

"You guys don't appreciate the brilliance of guacamole," Derek said. "Get outta here, loser."

"Later, dork." Sam gave a small salute, jogging back inside the restaurant.

"Okay, so are you gonna tell me what happened?"

"I don't wanna talk about it."

"Okayy," Derek said, turning the key in the ignition.

"I can't believe him!" Casey kicked at the dashboard angrily.

"Hey now, easy on the car." Derek threw her a wary look from the driver's seat. "At least wait until we're home to start with the kicking."

She sighed, rummaging through her purse at her feet. "He has feelings for Amy. Like, he actually told me that," she said.

"Amy the ex? The cheerleader?" Casey nodded. "Whoops."

"Whoops? That's all you can say?"

"Whoopsie-daisy?"

She glared at him, pulling out her phone. "Why aren't we driving?"

"Old car. Needs to warm up." She gave him a look. "What? I turned it off when I parked. I didn't know we'd have to make a grand escape."

She bit her lip, punching in a text message to Emily. "Silly me, I forgot that you drive a piece of junk."

"It's not junk yet." Derek turned the ignition again, a loud grinding noise making Casey's teeth grind. "I can get another two months out of it, maybe." The engine died again with a sputter and he winced. "Maybe one."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm not pushing it home."

"Like you could push it, wimp." He sighed. "Wait here."

He ducked out of the car, popping the hood and blocking Casey's view of the restaurant. She huffed, climbing out of the car and coming around to stand behind Derek. "This is a nightmare," she groaned.

"I think it's the starter," Derek said. "It was acting up before I left, but I thought I could scrape by."

"This thing is a money trap," she said. "How much have you spent on it, just for repairs, since you got it? Two grand?"

"Something like that," he grumbled. "Okay, I don't think we're getting anywhere."

Casey sighed. "Sam?"

"He doesn't have a car," he said. "Mom Mobile."

She shook her head. "Someone else from the team?"

He shrugged. "If you are going to willingly get into one of their cars, sure."

Casey thought of the majority of Derek and Sam's teammates and shuddered. "No thanks." She sighed. "I'll try Emily."

"Be my guest."

She rolled her eyes, dialing Emily on speed dial and tapping her foot as it rang. After a few seconds, she cursed. "Voicemail."

Derek sighed. "Nora," he said, resigned.

"Yeah, yeah." She dialed her mother's cell number, biting her lip. "Mom? Hey, Derek and I are at Smelly Nelly's and the Honda won't start. Could you pick us up?" She paused. "Um, yeah, Max was gonna give me a ride, but…something came up. No, everything's fine." Casey huffed in annoyance. "Could you just hurry please?" She flipped it closed. "She's coming."

Derek nodded. "Fine." He sunk down onto the curb, forearms resting on his knees. Casey sat down gingerly beside him, moving her purse into her lap. "Don't pay any attention to this," Derek said.

"What?"

"Max. Just…it's not even worth your time."

Casey rested her chin in her hands. "Doesn't feel like that."

"Yeah, well." Derek sighed. "Did you really want to embrace that cliché and date the captain of the football team, anyway?" Casey bit her lip. "Don't answer that."

"That's not why I dated him," Casey said.

"The guy wouldn't know an original thought if it hit him," Derek said. "He'd probably catch it and try and punt it, or something. Did you really want to deal with that much longer?"

Casey suppressed her smile. "Shut up."

"And the tan? He can't possibly get that thing naturally. And do you really want to be with a guy who regularly goes to a tanning salon?"

Casey shook her head, letting her laugh loose. The laugh soon turned into hiccups and her head fell down, shoulders shaking. "Jeez," she said, choked. "This sucks."

Derek slid an arm around her shoulders. "I know."

She let him pull her over and collapsed against his chest, tears streaming silently and wetting his collar. She grabbed onto his arm and squeezed, shutting her eyes tightly against the world.

Gradually, she calmed down, her tears subsiding to small sniffs and shoulder hitches. She kept her face pressed into Derek's shirt, feeling the crushing embarrassment and shame break through her fog.

He smelled like soap and something sharp and slightly bitter. He was warm and solid and he hadn't shaved that morning, she noticed. She could hear the faint thump of his heartbeat, and closed her eyes to the sound, focusing on the feel of his hand, rubbing her back slowly. "I thought you didn't do tears," she mumbled, voice hoarse.

"Don't tell anyone," he said. She pulled away and tried for a smile, but his arm stayed around her. "Besides, I'm used to them by now, living with you and all."

"Yeah." Casey relaxed into him, pressed up against his side, huddled against the bite of the autumn air. "What's wrong with me?"

"Oh, where to start." She elbowed him. "What? I have a list."

The corners of her mouth tugged into a smile. "Stop trying to make me feel better."

"Since when do insults make you feel better?"

"Since I met you," she volleyed back.

His face changed slightly and he faltered. "Heh. Well, I do tend to have that affect on people," he said, but the delivery was awkward.

Casey sighed. "How am I gonna face them at school tomorrow?" she asked miserably. "He said that they were waiting to tell me before they started dating again. They've been like, planning it." Her face crumpled. "Like some bad Dawson's Creek plot line. Meeting in secret and agonizing over the best way to break it to me."

"You'll ignore them tomorrow," he said, after a moment. "They'll probably try to talk to you, but you blow them off and act like the most exciting thing about the weekend was when you were stranded in a parking lot with me."

She snorted. "Don't flatter yourself."

"What, you didn't orchestrate this whole thing just to spend time with me?" He snapped his fingers. "Damn. Thought I'd called that one."

Her smile felt tight, stretched across her face. "I hate him. Stupid Max. With his stupid…face."

"Ah, and we're onto the inarticulate insult phase."

"Dumbhead." Casey kicked a pebble petulantly.

"He is a huge dumbhead," Derek said seriously. "Want me to beat him up?"

Casey laughed, genuinely for the first time. "Like you could."

"I resent that," Derek said indignantly. "I could take him. Possibly." Casey snorted, shaking her head at him. "Okay, if I had my hockey gear on, you know I'd totally kick his ass."

"Maybe then." She smirked. "You could hit him with your big bat."

"It's a hockey stick," Derek said, genuinely offended. "Jeez, Case."

"Whatever."

Derek shook his head, a half-smile on his face that suddenly froze, his eyes riveted to a spot over her shoulder. "Max is coming," he said quietly.

"What?" Casey's insides froze and her spine snapped straight, stiff as a board. "Oh God. Oh my God…"

"Just relax."

"Oh my God!" she hissed. "I don't want to look at him, let alone talk to him." She snuck a look over her shoulder and saw Max ducking out of the restaurant, heading for the section of the parking lot where Derek's car sat uselessly. "Oh God," she moaned.

Derek sighed, shifting slightly. "Just go with me on this."

Casey turned to look at him, distressed. "What are you – mmph." Derek pulled her into a kiss, cutting off her sentence abruptly. Her eyes widened and then slowly fluttered closed, shoulders unwinding.

Derek kept his eyes open, cradling her face in his hands. His body was shielding most of Casey's from view, as well as the car that they were both sitting next to, and he watched in satisfaction as Max gave him a cursory glance and moved on to his own car without stopping.

Casey, who had been unbelievably stiff before, was now relaxed, slumped over and leaning into Derek's hands. Her mouth opened under his and Derek closed his eyes suddenly, startled against the sudden jolt of electricity.

She tilted her head, changing the angle of the kiss to grab at his jacket, knees bumping against his. Derek heard the rumble of Max's car distantly as he drove away, but everything seemed remote and unimportant compared to the warmth of her skin and the sparks of heat dancing down his throat.

Their rhythm slowly descended and trailed off, Casey pulling away slightly to breathe. She kept her head bowed for a moment, eyes closed, before she brought her hands to her forehead, inhaling deeply.

Derek cleared his throat, looking away with effort. "He's gone," he said, and belatedly realized he was still touching her, hands on her shoulders now. He pulled back abruptly. "Sorry."

She shook her head, opening her mouth as if to say something. Nothing came, and she gestured helplessly. He nodded back, at a loss as well.

They sat in charged silence, knees still pressed together, until Nora drove up to take them home. They said nothing on the ride home, either, and if Nora noticed anything, she didn't mention it. Derek didn't look at her once the entire ride back, and as soon as they arrived home he turned around and left again, grabbing a ride from George to the local garage to get his car towed. Casey attempted to stay up to wait for him, but ended up falling asleep on top of her math textbook.

She woke up late and looked for Derek, appropriately finding him still asleep, which totally didn't explain how two hours later, Casey found herself laughing along with half the school's population as Max shuffled out of his physics classroom with bright streaks of orange through his hair and down his face, bleeding down his neck into his shirt.

"Look!" Emily grabbed her arm and pointed through to the back of the crowd. Casey stifled her laughter and peered through the people, catching sight of Derek leaning against a row of lockers, smirking. He was looking straight at her.

'How?' she mouthed.

He shrugged and made a face at her.

"Uch. He's so immature," she commented to Emily, making a face back. "Isn't it great?"

Fin.