NOTES: This is an AU fic inspired by a prompt moirariordan left on fanprompted. The prompt goes -
Remember the old 'Derek's a keener, Casey's the player' cliche? Well, try it again - switch their lives, literally. Derek McDonald, son to Nora and brother to Lizzie, moves in with Casey Venturi, daughter of George and sister to Edwin and Marti.
So yes - awesome prompt. I should also mention that Agent of the Apothecary has a supergood take on this same idea - it's called 'rattlesnakes and romance' - it's way awesome, everyone should go and (re)read it :)
This is also part of 5 LWD AUs I'm doing - crack!fic takes on 'The Room' and moar. So, if you have a low tolerance for crack!fic...this might not be your thing :) Comments and criticisms are very welcome if you DO read, though.
DISCLAIMER: Despite my very best machinations, ownership of LWD remains out of my reach :)
"Derek's popular. Sometimes I wish I could be like him. Slack my way through school, not care about my grades..."
"Really?"
"No, not really. But I'm still the new kid in school."
Paul Greebie cleared his throat, and finally broke the silence. "You know," he observed, "this might go better if you...spoke."
Derek McDonald stared back at him challengingly. "I'm protesting," he said.
Paul looked at him. "...why?"
Derek leaned forward. "I'm being forced to share a room with my new stepbrother, a bathroom with my entire – and mostly new – family...and I'm even expected to share a locker at my new school." He sat back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. "I refuse to share anything else –and that includes my feelings."
Paul blinked at this. "O-kay," he said. "Wow...it sounds like you're under a lot of pressure."
"No, the problem is that I'm being compressed." Sharing his feelings might have been a problem, but Derek apparently had no hesitation airing his grievances.
Paul frowned. "I'm...not sure I follow."
"I mean I'm considering bringing a pillow to school because there's more room in my locker than in my bedroom – and there's no room in my locker!"
"Okay..." Paul considered this for a few seconds. "So...this is a space issue?"
"No. Well, maybe a little," Derek conceded. "But mostly, it's a territory issue."
"Maybe you should start at the beginning," Paul suggested.
Derek thought. "I guess it all started a few months ago, when my mother went out on a blind date and decided that the feeling in her stomach was butterflies, and not acute food poisoning."
"We probably won't get through all that in one session," Paul cautioned.
Derek sighed. "Fine. Then – take this morning for example..."
"Good morning, Derek!"
The only logical response was to sit down at the kitchen table and bury his face in his arms, because it was not a good morning.
A cat-eared Marti took the opportunity to lean over and hiss in his ear, and he cracked open an eye to glare at her. It didn't appear to have any effect, as she composedly began to lick the back of her hand.
"You know what I think might help with the first day jitters?" his mom said, smiling encouragingly at him.
"If you're going to say 'a shower' – don't," he said, voice muffled. "As per usual, the Princess is hogging the hot water."
"Yeah, she does that," Edwin said, matter of factly, through a mouthful of cereal. "Don't worry – you'll get used to it. Actually, I find it's a great excuse to neglect personal hygiene." He looked between Lizzie and Derek and clarified, "I don't bathe very often."
Lizzie made a disgusted face, while Derek said, "Yeah. I noticed. Remind me to thank the Princess for that one, too."
"Derek," his mom admonished, "Don't call Casey that."
"Why not? George does." He looked up and gestured at his stepdad. "It's a sign of affection, right, George?"
"It – can be," George said carefully, amusement in his tone.
"Yes, well, it – sounds different when George does it."
"Maybe it's because he doesn't clench his teeth when he says it," Lizzie added. She watched as he poured cereal into a bowl, and passed him the milk.
"Thanks," he said absently.
"Anyway!" his mom clapped her hands together, and laid a hand on his shoulder. "I've been feeling...kind of guilty. I've been so busy the last couple of days and I feel like I haven't been there for you" –
Derek used the unwashed thing to his advantage, and tried his best to look even more pathetic.
"– so I thought, how can I make it up to you? And I decided that I'm going to make your favorite 'Mom-special' for lunch!"
He regarded her with trepidation. "Mom, that's...really great, but" –
"Store bought!" she reassured him. He brightened. "Just give me a couple of minutes to throw everything together."
This was of course, the moment that Casey made her entrance, shiny haired and fragrant. "Good morning everyone!" She breezed over to the table and scooped out a handful of cereal from the box. "Wow, dad – I wasn't expecting to see you here," she said.
"Why – should I be having breakfast with another family?" George joked.
Casey smiled. "No," she said patiently. "But...shouldn't you be taking Marti to school right about now?"
George glanced at his watch, before hastily getting to his feet.
"Cats don't go to school!" Marti protested, as she was picked up. Casey proffered George's briefcase and received a kiss on the temple and a "Thank you, Princess," in return.
She watched as he made his way out the door, before turning to her brother.
"And Edwin – shouldn't you be getting ready? You don't want to leave it till the last minute."
"I don't?" Edwin said.
Casey fixed her eyes on him and stared, unblinking.
"Of course I don't," he repeated, and scrambled from the table.
Casey took his place. "So, Lizzie," she said. "First day at a new school – how are you feeling?"
"Okay, I guess," Lizzie said politely.
"Don't worry – I've asked Edwin to take care of you," Casey assured her.
"Are you sure Edwin's qualified to 'take care' of another living being?" Derek asked. "As his room-mate, I can tell you he has trouble taking care of his pet rocks."
Casey ignored this. "And how about you, Derek? Excited?"
"Oh, yeah," he said flatly. "Another new experience. I can hardly wait."
"With that kind of can-do attitude, I'm sure you'll be fine," Casey said, raising her eyebrows.
"Look on the bright side," his mom said. "I mean, maybe this new school will work out really well."
"Yeah," Lizzie agreed, "You might even be popular there!" At the look on his face, she backtracked hastily, "Not...that you weren't popular in your old school."
Casey raised her eyebrows. "Speaking of which, we really should get going, if we want to keep to the schedule, Derek. And – speaking of schedules, Nora..."
His mom immediately stopped what she was doing (constructing the first layer of a triple decker sandwich for Derek's lunch) and stiffened. Casey appeared not to notice this.
"I can't help noticing that you've fallen behind with the washing and cleaning schedule I gave you" –
"I have? Again?"
"You seem a little overwhelmed – no offence, Nora" –
"None taken," his mom said, sounding somewhat dazed.
"So I've taken the liberty of drawing up an emergency 'Get Things Back on Track' plan." Casey handed over a sheet of paper to Nora. "If you can organize a whites-wash this morning, that should take care of the bulk of the problem, and I can run through the original schedule with you again later. How does that sound?" The tone of her voice indicated that the question was a mere formality.
"That sounds um...great," Nora said. "I – really appreciate all the...help...you're giving me, Casey."
"Almost as much as we all appreciate the slack you're cutting us," Derek said, as Nora began scanning the list Casey had handed her.
Casey smiled perfunctorily. "Derek, we really should be going, so if you're ready" –
"Yeah, I don't have my lunch yet." He turned to Nora. "Mom?"
"Hmm?" she glanced up from her reading. "Oh! Yes! Your lunch!" She looked wildly around the kitchen before grabbing a bag of crackers and pushing it into his hands.
He looked at her. "Aren't you forgetting something?" he hinted. She looked at him with a pleading expression on her face – the same expression she had when she first presented George to him – a 'just go along with this…for my sake' kind of expression. And despite the fact that nothing good had come of that expression so far, Derek caved. As usual.
His shoulders slumped and his mom, sensing victory, swooped. "Thanks, sweetie." She reached out and caught his face in her hands. "Have a great first day at school," she said, and kissed his cheek. She patted his shoulder absently, before hurrying out of the kitchen.
"Well, now that you have that all-important goodbye kiss, can we please leave?" Casey asked. "Unless you want us to be late on the first day?"
"...so, the problem is that your stepsister is – being helpful?" Paul asked.
"No – the problem is that she's being controlling," Derek emphasized.
"Are you sure? I mean, maybe she's just trying to help your family settle in."
Derek got to his feet, and started digging in his pockets. He unearthed several pieces of paper, and began unfolding them. "Here is a copy of our weekly menu. This is the grocery shopping schedule. And this one here," he tilted his head before turning the piece of paper the right way up, "is a cross-referenced chore list."
He laid the papers across Paul's desk with a flourish, and looked at Paul expectantly.
"That is...very thorough," Paul admitted. "But did you ever consider that maybe this is just the type of person your stepsister is? I mean, maybe all this," he gestured towards the various schedules and lists, "isn't necessarily a personal critique."
"Oh believe me, it's personal," Derek said, eyes narrowing. "It's very personal."
"– have to get you a locker, then I can introduce you to Sam, my boyfriend. He'll show you around. Then, at lunchtime, we can all meet up in the cafeteria and I'll introduce you to" –
"Okay," Derek held up a hand. "You're talking like we're going to be hanging out together."
"Won't we?" Casey asked, raising her eyebrows.
Derek stared at her. "Give me one reason why we would."
Casey looked at him like he was an idiot. "Well...because – not to sound conceited or anything, but – I'm kind of popular." She shrugged with fake-modesty.
Derek just looked at her.
"And if you want to get in with the in-crowd, which I assume you do...you're going to have exploit your connections." She stopped for a second, but apparently couldn't resist the temptation to point out the obvious. "That would be me."
"So you're going to help me become popular," Derek said sceptically.
Casey looked him up and down. "Well, it's not as if you stand a chance on your own."
He folded his arms and stopped walking. "And why not?"
She snorted. "Oh please, Derek. Let's go through your resume. First of all, you're the new kid, and it's pretty hard for a new kid to break into an already established social hierarchy. Next, while I would describe your academic record as 'solid'" –
He narrowed his eyes at her. His academic record was way better than solid (something that he credited to attending an all-boys school, and study helping to take his mind off that fact).
" – others are going to take one look at your A average, and assume that you're a keener. Plus, it's not like you have any valuable extracurriculars that would make you stand out at JS Thompson High – no hockey, no football, no...debate club."
"I used to play hockey," he found himself saying.
The superior expression on her face didn't change. "And I'm sure you quit because you were just too good at it."
"Something like that," he said, because there was no way 'I quit in a pathetic attempt to get my dad to pay attention to me, since being awesome didn't work as well as you'd think,' was coming out of his mouth.
"Face it, Derek, without my influence, all those factors add up to you being the polar opposite of popular." She took a step closer to him, and said, "You need my help."
"No," he disagreed, staring her down. "You need to organize me – because you can't stand the idea that there's something – or someone – who's not under your control. Because everyone needs to bow down in front of Queen Casey, right?"
Popularity, if it came with the price tag of being Casey's toady, was unacceptable. He'd prefer to take his chances as Derek McDonald, nobody, if it meant compromising his already compromised independence.
So he took a step, so that they were almost nose-to-nose, and stared her down. "Well, your Majesty…I'm not kneeling," he informed her.
Even though neither of them was under any illusions about how the other felt, it was satisfying to actually let loose the naked hostility. The funny thing was, they didn't even need to hurl insults – just let it all hang out there with a challenging look, tension ratcheting up and up with every second they refused to break eye-contact. If he wasn't so busy trying to win the stare-off, he might have (might have) felt a flicker of admiration for the core of sheer determination that obviously lurked beneath Casey's pretty-girl façade. He'd guessed she was a tin-pot dictator from the schedules and the organising and the obsessive list-making, but circling her now, he could see that he had been off the mark. Casey was a solid-steel adversary. The realisation almost took his breath away, but he didn't let it show, just kept all his concentration focused on meeting her eyes.
"Okay. Fine," she said finally, matching the low threat of his last words. "You want the truth? My home is like my kingdom – calm, peaceful, orderly. Everything was finally running smoothly until your family showed up – now, suddenly, there's chaos! No-one follows the rules anymore – no-one does what they're supposed to!"
Her gaze hardened. "But you know something? As well-intentioned and nice as the majority of your family seems to be, I refuse to let my perfect kingdom be sabotaged by unruly invaders. So you've got two choices. You can fall in line, or...prepare for execution. Metaphorically speaking, of course," she clarified hastily.
She took a step backwards, attempting to regain her cool. "The offer is open, Derek. What's it going to be?"
"That does seem kind of personal," Paul agreed.
"She laid it right out for me," Derek said. "I mean, agree to being treated like a second class citizen in my new home, or...fight for the equal status I deserve."
"I'm guessing you're going with the second option," Paul said.
Derek shrugged. "What other choice do I have?"
"Well, you could talk to Casey – I mean, it sounds like you're both dealing with the same problems. You might find you have more in common than you realize."
Derek regarded him sceptically. "I have nothing in common with Little Miss Pep Squad" –
"You might be surprised," Paul said.
"Besides," Derek continued, ignoring him, "It's already on."
As Derek tried to cram his books into his locker, under the watchful eyes of his locker-mate, he contemplated fate's cruel sense of irony. Apparently it wasn't enough that he had to share a bedroom and a bathroom at home, now he even had to share his locker.
Derek wondered when personal space had become an unimaginable luxury.
Suddenly, he stopped and said, "This isn't going to work."
"Well, maybe if you put some actual force behind your pushes, it would help," his locker-mate (who was so scrawny it looked like the only thing keeping him upright was worry) suggested helpfully.
Derek stared at him. "Okay," he said, "Or maybe you could move some of your books? I mean, I'm sure you don't need all of them." He squinted at some of the titles. "Bleak House, Hard Times...War and Peace? None of these are even on our syllabus – we're not studying any of these."
"No...but she is," his locker-mate sighed.
Derek looked at the small mountain of literature his locker-mate had managed to jam inside a very tight space, and blinked. "She'd better be worth it," he said.
"She's the most beautiful, intelligent, amazing" –
Derek held up a hand to stop him, only to hastily put it back down as the pile of books in his arms began to slide. "Yeah – okay, I think I get it. But – I'd be willing to listen to it anyway...if I could get some space for my stuff."
His locker-mate regarded him. "Deal," he decided, and began pulling out hardbacks.
Derek took two steps backwards...and bumped into someone, precipitating a heavy fall of books.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled, as he bent down and began picking up his stuff, "Are you" – he looked up, and blinked, "...really cute?"
"I...hope so?" the girl he'd bumped into said, smiling. She offered him a book. "Emily Davis, hi."
"Hi," he said back.
She looked at him expectantly.
"Derek!" he remembered. Then, more calmly, "Um...I'm Derek McDonald. I'm new."
"I thought you might be," she said. "First day, huh?"
"Yeah." He'd already tried to update his mental expectations for 'girls' from 'abstract concept' (all-boys private school) to 'material reality' (here. And apparently, now). Emily Davis was making him realize just how attractive that reality was.
There was a certain instinct, he realized, that all guys possessed. Even if he had spent most of his time in an all-boys private school – the instinct had just been dormant, waiting for a waft of feminine perfume to stir it into life.
That instinct – was to try and look cool in front of the opposite sex.
"So," he began, as he leaned back against his locker, forgetting that it was open, and that someone was kneeling in front of it. There was a yelp as his lockermate felt the sharp edge of the door trying to cut him in two. Derek hurriedly straightened, dropping two of the books he was still holding.
Emily pressed her lips together for a long second, before saying, "You know, you look busy...I should probably go."
She turned, and –
"Wait!" Derek took a step, and she obligingly came back. That was a good sign, right?
"I'm a little confused," he said. "I was wondering...maybe you could help me with my schedule?" He held out his timetable, and Emily looked at him – and okay, she looked amused...but she also looked pleased, and he was definitely getting the hang of this whole flirting thing.
Until –
"Or maybe you could impress Em with your basic literacy skills and read it yourself? That is, if you've finished klutzing it up?"
"Casey! I've been waiting for you," Emily exclaimed. Derek heard the bang of a locker door from behind him, and suddenly, his locker-mate was standing beside him, War and Peace in his hands.
"Hi, Casey," he said.
"Hi, Tinker," Casey smiled in his direction.
He brandished his book. "I checked out that book you recommended. It's a real page-turner – just like you said."
Casey frowned. "I don't remember recommending" –
"Well, I overheard you talking about it that time I happened to be standing right behind you in the cafeteria line. It was May fifteenth – Wednesday. You were wearing a light blue t-shirt and Capri pants." At her vague look, he deflated slightly. "You probably didn't see me. That's cool – it could happen to anyone."
Casey stared at him for a long moment, before turning back to her friend. "Sorry, Em – I ran into Sam, and we lost track of time. But you'll never guess what I found out!" Her hand reached out to grip Emily's elbow. "Guess who has a crush on you?"
Emily's mouth opened. "Not..."
Casey nodded, and began to steer Emily up the hallway. "Yes!"
"I don't believe it! That's totally..." Emily glanced over her shoulder, and said, "Oh – bye Derek. Casey, are you sure he meant me?"
"Of course I am, Em. Sam heard him say it himself." Casey threw a smug smile over her shoulder, and Derek ground his teeth. "I'd ask you to join us, Derek, but I'm sure Tinker would love to show you around – right Tink?" She unleashed a blinding smile on Tinker, who practically swooned. "I'd consider it a personal favor."
She took his lovesick blinking as tacit agreement, and Derek and his locker-mate watched them walk away.
"I can't believe it," his locker-mate said finally, "I never would have thought it was possible, but – I think she got even more beautiful over the summer."
Derek groaned.
"Clearly, she did it to get back at me for rejecting her offer," Derek said.
"Oh, clearly," Paul repeated.
He sighed. "I just don't know what to do. The whole situation is just so unfair."
Paul thought for a second. "Well...if you're looking for suggestions, I've got one."
Derek leaned forward. "It's not going to be one of those useless, 'you need to compromise' ideas, is it? Any more compromising, and I end up folded in half."
"Not exactly," Paul said. "Though I was going to suggest that you start by resolving one basic issue."
Derek frowned.
Paul explained. "The first thing you mentioned when you came in is the fact that you feel crowded – like you don't have a space of your own. Well – maybe if you settle the space issue, you might find that other issues start falling into place, too." He looked encouraging.
"The space issue?" Derek considered this in silence. "The space issue," he repeated, with dawning comprehension. "Paul, I think you're right. I need to resolve the space issue!"
He got to his feet, then stopped. "I can't believe it, but this talking-thing might...actually have helped. Thanks!"
"You're welcome," Paul said, lips twitching.
"And – uh...I'll let you know how it works out. You know...at my next appointment?" Derek said, somewhat hesitantly.
"I'm looking forward to it," Paul said, and smiled.
