Marry You
Description: Songfic! America has romanticized the craziness that is Las Vegas throughout entertainment; and no one knows entertainment or going crazy like Derek Venturi. So when he turned twenty-one, he had big plans. Huge plans. You might even call them, colossal. ...But plans were meant to be broken, right?
Disclaimer / A / N : I've deleted the stand-alone oneshot in order to place it into this new conglomerate of short stories I'll be adding onto. / I apologize if the plot seems a bit rushed, but that's the theme of the song, yes? Please, enjoy and review!
I own neither Bruno Mars's music, nor the wonderful show itself, which was created by Daphne Ballon.
America has romanticized the craziness that is Las Vegas throughout entertainment; and no one knows entertainment (or going crazy) like Derek Venturi. So when he turned twenty-one, he had big plans. Huge plans. You might even call them, colossal. ...But plans were meant to be broken, right?
While outlining this "Cornerstone of a Young Man's Life" (copyright D. Venturi) to his dad and step-mother, he appealed to them by listing off the money he saved up, the budget he's arranged from said money, the route as well as a detailed itinerary (exact hotels, clubs, casinos, and bars he'd be going to), and agreed to call (this clause including each of his guests as well, if need be) home to check-in during each 24-hour period of the five days, right around dinner time. He let them sleep on the decision. He even threw in the fact that although he's had to live with Casey in their joint apartment for college, he has yet to kill her.
What they didn't know though, was that he was far from killing her. So far away from that thought, that he felt like he needed this man-getaway to keep himself from maybe possibly falling for her. They could have used that knowledge before smiling at their son the next afternoon, as if this little favor wouldn't wrinkle up his precious trip that much, handing him their addendum to his pamphlet of CoaYML.
Allow your step-sibling, Casey McDonald, the option of going, as well as 1 or 2 of her friends if she agrees.
Shit.
Reverting to highschool, pre-live-in Derek, he raised both his eyebrows pseudo-incredulously at the two. "Really. You think Casey, 'Study until I cry,' 'Reorganize when I'm bored,' 'Sleep at 9:30pm,' Casey, will want to come on this trip? And even if she does, wouldn't she just feel out of place? Or constantly nag us all into her definition of behaving?"
His father sighed, "Derek, we're not making you take her. We're just making you ask if she wants to be included in this."
"And, from what I hear from Casey, you guys have been getting along surprisingly well anyway," continued his step-mother, reasonably.
Casey. He huffed, conceding to this new roadblock.
"I overheard you talking to them last night about this. I also heard them making you ask me. I'm in." She didn't even look up from her laptop screen, as she laid stomach-down on her bed and smirked.
"Case. Just. Just look at me."
Her baby-blues slid across the room until she caught his hazel ones. Unbeknownst to her, his breath hitched, but she did notice that every particle in his body seemed to be begging her not to go, for some unknown reason. That hurt her. She thought they were finally passed excluding one another from things. Especially if they were supposed to be "Cornerstone"s. They've learned how to drive together, went to prom, graduated —hell, they're living through college together.
He noticed her expression deflate slightly, replaced in a split-second by anger. "If you can't give me one good reason I can't go, —my friends and I could split up from you and yours right when we get to wherever we're going— I'm not budging from my decision, Derek." She was seething, her eyes turning that familiar shade of electric blue. "You're taking me with you to Las Vegas. And I'll bet you we'll have a grand old time," she finished in a very matter-of-fact tone, turning her head abruptly back to the laptop.
That's what I'm afraid of. Derek inwardly groaned, realizing he didn't fight back because a fraction of him did want her there. He shuffled downstairs toward the two adults to share the news.
It's a beautiful night,
We're looking for something dumb to do.
It was the last of the four nights, their other companions splayed out across the two joint hotel rooms they booked, the faint buzz of the television still heard, although Casey and Derek were on the balcony. They were laughing and talking, leaning on the railing, slurring their speech slightly, bored and wide awake.
"Didn't I tell you we'd have fun?" drawled the blue-eyed brunette, a slow smile creeping upon her face. She leaned forward on her forearms, looking across the skyline.
Derek reached out and brushed some of her hair back, his eyes half-lidded, shifting himself on his other elbow. "I never said we wouldn't, Princess." He smirked. Casey was now leaning into his hand, a ghost of a grin visible, as her eyes drew to a close.
So...close.
Hey baby,
I think I wanna marry you.
Before he knew it, when his eyes reopened, there was a heaving Casey in his arms, her lips parted, both of them trying to catch their breath. He grabbed her by the wrist, a wicked grin emerging. They tiptoed around the battlefield of fallen comrades, quickly heading to the elevator in fits of muffled giggles.
"Where are we going, D?"
"It's Las Vegas, something's gotta be open."
Is it the look in your eyes,
Or is it this dancing juice?
This time, it was Casey eagerly leading him, the two stumbling into a bar, making their way to the almost-empty dance floor. Fingers intertwined, their bodies swayed, tangent to one another; their breath used only for flirtatious whispering, stolen kisses, and contented sighs.
Between song changes, they drank a little more, guarding themselves a little less. Eventually, with Derek's arm wrapped around Casey's shoulder, and her arm around his waist, they made their way back outside.
In mid-laugh, Derek suddenly cupped the back of Casey's head, pulling her close until their foreheads touched. Although both completely inebriated, he managed to speak without a stutter, keeping his voice louder than the music behind them. "Case, I love you. It's been a while now, I just needed to tell you."
Those familiar electric blues searched his hazel ones, looking for any sign of dishonesty. Finding none, she brushed some of his messy hair away from his forehead, with her face lighting up animatedly. "I have been loving you too, Derek Venturiiii-." She held out the last syllable of his name as she released herself from his grasp, running down the street, laughter heard from a block away.
He follows after her, his own laughter trailing hers.
Who cares baby,
I think I wanna marry you.
She slowed down, arms thrown up once again, spinning to look at him expectantly. Catching up, Derek looks at their surroundings.
Well I know this little chapel on the boulevard we can go,
No one will know,
Oh, come on, girl.
A flashback from earlier in the day meanders to him.
The taxi sped through the city, nearing the hotel their party was staying at. Sam laughed, pointing out the window for everyone's gaze to turn towards. He shakes his head, "They really shouldn't have drive-thru lanes for marriages."
Amused, Casey argued, "Hey, it's just good business. Drunk people demand it? 'It shall be supplied,' says America."
Who cares if we're trashed got a pocket full of cash we can blow,
Shots of patron,
And it's on, girl.
"Der-ek."
Called out of his reverie, the sight of a smirking Casey, hand on hip, greeted him. She continued. "What, you scared?"
His trademark wolfish grin appeared, shooting back, "Derek Venturi is never scared."
Don't say no, no, no, no-no;
Just say yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah;
And we'll go, go, go, go-go.
If you're ready, like I'm ready.
He then sprinted toward a surprised Casey, scooping her up over his shoulder.
"Der-ek!"
Cause it's a beautiful night,
We're looking for something dumb to do.
Hey baby,
I think I wanna marry you.
He walked into the chapel like that, with her carried like a sack of potatoes. They signed forms and paid their dues hurriedly. They waited in a room with a dozen other couples, from all walks of life. They were in a cotton-candy cloud that consisted only of each other, interrupted only by one of the employees who briefed them on the speed ceremony.
Is it the look in your eyes,
Or is it this dancing juice?
Who cares baby,
I think I wanna marry you.
He pulled back her rented veil, his breath caught in his throat once again. Yeah, she wasn't as dolled up as the other times he's imagined it, but she was beautiful nonetheless. She was Casey.
I'll go get a ring let the choir bells sing like oooh,
So what you wanna do?
Let's just run girl.
"Do you, Derek Venturi, take Casey McDonald to be your lawfully wedded wife?"
"I do."
If we wake up and you wanna break up that's cool.
No, I won't blame you;
It was fun, girl.
"Do you, Casey McDonald, take Derek Venturi to be your lawfully wedded husband?"
"I do."
Don't say no, no, no, no-no;
Just say yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah;
And we'll go, go, go, go-go.
If you're ready, like I'm ready.
"With the power vested in me, by the state of Nevada, I pronounce you Man and Wife. You may now kiss the bride."
Cause it's a beautiful night,
We're looking for something dumb to do.
Hey baby,
I think I wanna marry you.
The rest of the night was a whirlwind, both of them suddenly famished for food; finding some, and then somehow found themselves staggering back to their hotel.
Is it the look in your eyes,
Or is it this dancing juice?
Who cares baby,
I think I wanna marry you.
Derek cracked an eye open to the sunlight rudely pounding his pupil. He crinkled his face, noticing the pricks slowly crawling up his arm. Something heavy was weighing it down. Something heavy, and soft, and lavender-smelling. Casey. He shifted to unpin his arm and wrap the remaining one around her. She groaned painfully, turning away from the offending light and into his chest.
"Derek, I don't like hangovers."
"Mm," he breathed into her hair.
Ralph, who was face down the edge of the bed, mumbled into the sheets, "Yeah well I don't like you two talking while I'm trying to sleeeeep."
The rest of their friends groaned in agreement, everyone drifting back into a fitful slumber.
Just say I do,
Tell me right now baby,
Tell me right now baby, baby.
Derek and Casey could feel the stares on them, the heat of all their friends' gazes directed at their once-sleeping forms. Waking up with a start, the two sat up, wide-eyed at their group. Wordlessly, and just as wide-eyed, Emily pointed at their loosely entwined left hands.
Just say I do,
Tell me right now baby,
Tell me right now baby, baby.
Now, their friends assumed an instant major freak out, complete with ring-throwing and squabbling about a night they obviously didn't remember; but instead, they witnessed an intense stare down between the two, then a look of absolute dread.
In unison, they exclaimed,
"How are we going to tell Dad and Nora?"
"-Mom and George?"
Oh, it's a beautiful night,
We're looking for something dumb to do.
Hey baby,
I think I wanna marry you.
Emily cleared her throat, bringing up the elephant in the room. "Wait, you two aren't mad?"
The question seemed to slightly diffuse the tension in the room, eliciting an awkward laugh from from everyone but the newlyweds, who were still just sitting in the bed. They shared another look when Casey started an explanation.
"Well, uh... Since college uh.." she trailed off, lips parting and closing as if a fish out of water.
Derek cut in, "Let's just say we didn't expect things to go this fast, but it was going to end up there somehow." He wasn't making eye contact with anyone, preferring to stare at the obnoxious floral pattern of the comforter.
Is it the look in your eyes,
Or is it this dancing juice?
Who cares baby,
I think I wanna marry you.
Casey's head turned in breakneck speed toward the boy, shock apparent in her (and everyone else's) features. Sam was the first to recover.
"You know, usually it's the proposal first, then the wedding. But you guys never seem to do anything in order anyway."