Author's Note: I've been itching to write another Dasey fanfic, but I just couldn't find inspiration. And then I realized that I wanted to write a future fic. So this is what came from that desire. Hope you enjoy! :)

Chapter 1

"Right," Derek said as the movie credits rolled on the computer screen in front of him. "That's what I've got."

There was a pause as everyone in the editing room waited for his boss to speak. This was always the moment when Derek found his confidence at its lowest. Would Steve like his editing? If he didn't (and that did happen), things really became hell. But when Steve gave him the okay, Derek could never quite suppress the huge grin on his face. Steve was a harsh critic, even for a film director.

Derek waited, tapping his fingers on his desk (a nervous habit), before realizing what he was doing and stopping immediately. Steve liked silence, after all.

Finally, a small twitch twisted Steve's lips upwards. Derek's heart raced; he felt light-headed with anticipation. When the smile formed on his boss's face, relief swept through Derek's veins. He's happy, he thought. This is it.

"Venturi," Steve barked with glee, "I can finally do it."

This caught Derek off-guard. "Do… what?" Everyone in the room held their breaths.

"Fire your sorry ass," Steve replied with a sneer.

Derek practically choked. "What?!"

Steve looked down his nose at his movie editor. "Venturi, you've been a nuisance to this company since day one. Sure, you're a great editor. Sure, you've got a charming attitude." He paused.

"Then… what's the problem?" Derek couldn't help asking.

"The problem," Steve drawled, "is that you're too lazy. You're way past deadline, and I promised the company that we'd get it all together a week ago. Release date's this Friday, you know."

"Right… and today is Tuesday," Derek said.

"Ex-actly, Venturi." Steve's face was turning red by now. "That's in three god-damn days!"

Derek didn't know what to say. For once in his life, he was flabbergasted.

"But sir," he protested, feeling panicked that he even felt panicky in the first place. "You can't just fire me! I've—I've got rent to pay, and Sheila's birthday—"

"I don't give a damn about your love life!" Steve bellowed, and Derek was taken aback at the man's sudden animosity. "You can tell Sheila that she should find a real man who'll buy her flowers and chocolates and treat her right!"

Stunned into silence, Derek felt his mouth drop open. He'd always known that Steve had a bit of a thing for his girlfriend, Sheila (she was the production company's set designer; Derek had met her through Steve, actually)… but he'd never considered that Steve was hung up on the woman. Did that mean that Steve's anger toward Derek was personal, then? If so… this was incredibly unfair.

"Look, Steve," Derek said, trying his best to stay calm. "If you have a problem with what I do in my personal life, then you should have spoken to me about it directly."

"I don't have a problem with anything except you. You're fired, Venturi. End of story." And with that, Steve stormed out.

For what felt like an eternity, everyone in the editing room stared at Derek. He felt his blood beating through his veins as he became angrier and angrier. He couldn't believe he'd just been fired. Sure, he took a few days longer to finish the project than he was supposed. He couldn't help it; he had a busy social life.

His thoughts turned to Sheila; at least he had her. She'd talk some sense into Steve. She'd always been there for him before. Derek knew she'd pull through again, as always, for him.

A hand on his shoulder brought him out of his thoughts. "Derek, I'm so sorry, man." It was his work buddy, Nathan. "Steve was way out of line; he's obviously got a thing for your girl."

"Yeah," said his other friend, Ryan. "Dude's a prick. Worst boss ever." He paused, then added, "If you need anything…" Ryan meant well, but Derek could hear the wariness in his buddies' voices; they didn't actually want to have to help him out. They were trying to get by with a small enough pay roll as he'd been.

"Nah, don't worry about it, guys. I'll be fine."

Derek put his head in his hands, realization sinking in. He was unemployed now. Hopefully Steve would pay him through the end of the month; it would be cruel to think that this was his final day of both work and pay.

Sighing, he stood up and gathered his few items up. He'd have to move out of his apartment now; there was no way in hell that he could afford rent without a job. He'd have to move into another pigsty apartment—the kind that he thought he'd finally escaped from when he'd been hired for this job.

As he was riding the Subway on his way home, he wondered briefly if Sheila would agree to let him move in with her. She lived in an apartment nearby with her brother. But they'd only become official a few weeks ago, and Derek didn't want to scare her away. Plus, it might be incredibly awkward with her brother around….

"Hang on!" he mumbled to himself, an idea occurring to him. Sheila wasn't the only one with a sibling in Toronto! Well, the woman he had in mind wasn't exactly his sister, but… close enough, right?

For the first time that day, Derek felt a smile tug at his lips. He thought about the last time he'd seen his stepsister. It had been Easter; two months ago. Casey had just broken up with a boyfriend, so she had remained in tears (or close to them) the entire time, but she'd still managed to get under his skin with her perfectionist qualities.

Derek suppressed a snicker. Even after all these years, she still rubbed him the wrong way. But they'd grown to appreciate each other in the twelve years since they'd met, and Derek knew that Casey would cave eventually, even if he needed to give her a little shove in the right direction.

As his smile transformed into his trademark smirk, Derek realized that he felt better. Casey would help him out. She always did.

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"What do you want?" Casey snapped into the phone. It was cradled against her shoulder, seeing as her two hands were busy chopping the vegetables she'd bought at the local market. She had minestrone soup bubbling away on the stove pot in preparation for her third date with Tom, the man she'd met through Emily. Things had been going well; Tom loved cats (which was an admirable trait, although she was allergic). Tom was a vegetarian, although he did hate tofu. Tom was a doctor (very respectable). He and Emily were good friends (which was always a plus).

"Who says I want anything?" her stepbrother queried. She heard a bottle open on his end with a snap, and she huffed in annoyance.

"Are you drunk or something, Derek? Don't you have work tomorrow?"

There was a silence for a moment, and then Derek half-muttered, half-sighed, "I got fired."

"You what?!" Casey cried, almost cutting the tip of her finger off in her shock. "God, you didn't sleep with your boss's sister again, did you?"

"No!" Derek snapped. "Jesus, Casey, that was five years ago. I work for someone else now, remember?" There was a pause, and he added, sounding surprisingly glum, "Or at least, I used to work for him. Steve. What a bastard."

Casey decided it would be a good time to put down the knife before she got too worked up (as often happened with any conversation with this particular stepbrother). She wiped her hands on her apron and gave a mental sigh. Derek sounded genuinely upset, so she needed to be there for him. "Look, Derek, I'm really sorry about what happened, but you can't fall apart now. There's never been a more urgent time for you to remain calm and collected. If you're going to be able to pay your rent, you've got to—"

"I can't," came Derek's crestfallen voice. "Case, I'm behind a month already. I was barely making any money with my job as it was, but now that I'm—" He broke off abruptly.

Casey felt her eyebrows rise in surprise. He was really taking this hard. He'd been fired once before (after he'd "accidentally" broken the heart of his boss's sister, and his boss had found out), but that job had been relatively meaningless for him. Casey knew how much the film industry fascinated Derek; it was his passion, after all. She decided to cut him some slack.

"Fine, Derek. What do you need from me? Money? A sedative?" She chuckled to herself at the thought that she could probably bribe Tom for them. She had connections now, she thought with glee.

"That's… not exactly what I had in mind," Derek said.

"Well? What then?" Casey knew she was being a bit insensitive, but Tom was coming over in less than half an hour, and the soup wasn't even ready yet.

"Look, this is a really, really big favor to ask you, but…"

"Just spit it out, Derek."

"Do you think—do you think I could move in with you for a little while? Only until I find another job, that is."

Casey was very glad that she'd set the knife down. If she hadn't, she might have sliced her entire arm off. "You want to what?" she finally choked out.

"I know it's a really huge favor, and of course I would repay you once I found a job, but I'm in a tight situation, Case, and I really don't know who else to turn to."

"But you—I—we—" Casey took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, then started again. "Why don't you ask Sherry, or whatever her name is? Isn't she supposed to be your girlfriend, after all?"

"It's Sheila. And yeah, she is," Derek replied, "But I—well, I really like her, and I don't want to rush things and freak her out." He sounded embarrassed to be admitting something like that. Casey didn't blame him; he hadn't had a steady girlfriend for a long time. This Sheila woman must be something special, if Derek cared so much about her.

It was this realization that finally made Casey relent. That, and the pitiful tone in her stepbrother's voice (well, pitiful for the mighty Derek Venturi). "Ok, Derek," she said at last, resuming her carrot-chopping, "I'm not completely opposed to the idea." He started to speak, but she cut him off, "Before you thank me, just know that we will be meeting over coffee tomorrow, and you will agree to a few terms and rules I set. Then, if you're willing to take it all seriously, you can thank me. Which you will do."

Derek thanked her anyway, which she was vaguely pleased about. He'd done some growing up since high school. Sure, he was still obnoxious and a bit irresponsible at times, and he dated around a lot… but the jarring edges to him had softened a bit since the last time they'd lived together.

…the last time they'd lived together. At the thought, Casey gasped a little. "Oh my God," she mumbled into the phone.

"What?" Derek demanded. "Your goldfish die again?"

"No," she snapped (he always made fun of her for her strange inability to keep fish or plants alive), "I just realized—we might be living together again."

She could almost hear Derek's shrug. "So? It's not like we haven't done that before."

"I know, I know. That's the problem, Derek. Don't you remember what it was like? The absolute hell you put me through? What if we start fighting again?" she almost whispered the last part. "I can't afford to get stressed out these days, not with the deadlines I have to meet at work—"

"Casey, you've always excelled at everything you do," Derek reassured her impatiently. "Your boss adores you. You have a steady group of girlfriends who love you. You're well on your way to the suburban, picket-fence, 2.5 kids and a dog lifestyle." He snickered. "All you're missing is the rich husband."

"Well, actually, there's this guy…" Casey began, then gasped. "Oh GOD! Tom!"

The phone dropped from her shoulder and landed on the kitchen counter with a thud.

"Casey? You there?" Derek's voice came faintly from the receiver. "And who's Tom?"

Casey was scrambling to stir the soup, slip on her high heels, and give the counters another swipe with the sponge… all at the same time.

"CASEY!" the voice bellowed from the phone again. Casey remembered that her stepbrother was still on the line. She considered telling him to let her think things over, but she couldn't do that to him, not when he'd just been fired. So she snatched the phone back up and said, "Listen, I've got a date tonight. Can we meet for coffee tomorrow at 8:30 in the Moonshine Café?"

"You mean 8:30 at night, right?" Derek sounded alarmed at the thought of waking up at such an "early" hour.

"I'll see you bright and early tomorrow morning. Good night, Derek." Casey clicked the phone off and sighed, Derek's voice still ringing in her ears.

She returned to getting ready and wondered if Tom liked wine. She sure could use a glass. Scrunching up her mouth, she eyed the little-used liquor cabinet. Or better yet, a shot of vodka.

A/N: That's chapter 1! Let me know what you think. :)