Since I have all these random plot bunnies stomping my head--and I'm on break so I actually have some time--I figured I'd just create a place to vent them. So that's what this is: a collection of somewhat random one shots. I don't forsee them being really connected or anything.

Anyway, here's the first one. Please let me know what you think :)

Plot Bunny 1: Derek and Casey have become like family...except not.

--

George's work functions were always tedious. And awkward. And, if Casey had to swat away one more sweaty co-worker's son, she was going to jump out the window. Like literally launch herself down ten stories.

"Someone's popular," Derek murmured as he appeared next to her. He set a cup of punch—which she hadn't asked for, but appreciated—on the table before her. "It's like watching the Bachelorette over here."

"Really?" she said, taking a sip, "I thought it'd look more like a B-rated horror movie."

"Heh, well-"

"Would you dance with me?" Casey blurted, grabbing his hand and frantically setting her drink aside.

"Right," he muttered, "Because this night hasn't been lame enough without having to slow dance with my sister."

It was still weird he'd started calling her that. But, she took it as a compliment and nothing else.

"Please?" she begged, pouting, "There's another guy coming over and-"

"Okay," he said instantly, pulling her up from her stool. He guided her to the dance floor, glowering about indiscriminately.

"Thanks, 'Big Bro'," she quipped.

"Well, I am older and wiser," he said as they fell into dancing, his left hand resting lightly on her back, and his right taking hers.

"Well, you're older; I'll give you that."

She stuck her tongue out at him and he smirked.

"No, seriously, you're my hero."

"Third girl who's said that to me tonight."

"Oh, you've taken to spontaneous rescuing then?"

"I usually wear a cape."

He dipped her dramatically and they both came back up laughing.

"Have I mentioned how much more I like you now that you're Ass-Lite?"

--

Derek being Ass-Lite really was nice. But, it didn't come without a price. Casey now found herself privy to the same protectiveness—and obnoxiousness—he'd once reserved only for Marti.

Exhibit A: Tormenting her new boyfriend. Repeatedly. And then some more.

--

"He gave him a wedgie," Casey complained to Emily, who was trying gosh golly hard to fulfill her BFF duty of not bursting into laughter. "I mean, I felt embarrassed for Matt."

Emily finally swallowed a giggle and patted her arm. "Relax, I'm sure he's just a little jealous, that's all."

"Jealous?" Casey repeated blanky.

"Well, sure. Derek's uber-possessive, especially of family," Emily said a-matter-of-factly, "I mean, have you seen him around Marti in the last…ever? He's probably just worried about you and upset that he's losing time with his other favorite 'sis."

Yeah, that still sounded weird.

"Maybe I should go easier on him," Casey said on a sigh, "He has been rambling about this stupid rib place opening up."

"Yeah, you guys should totally go, he'd love that. It will be so cute."

--

It was cute.

His eyes lit up in that tiny, you'll miss it if you blink sort of way when she'd finally brought it to him.

"Sweet."

--

'Bubbly' wafted in the car and Derek rolled his eyes as Casey reached for her cell phone. "It's Matt."

"No, really? I thought that was Ed's ring."

She narrowed her eyes, but ignored him, flipping it open and reading the text. "Oh, wow," she whispered, "He's back in town early."

Derek lifted his pointer finger, twirling it. "You can tell me all about how great it is while I ignore you over ribs."

"Derek," she chided, "He's been gone for a week. I can't just ditch him."

"But you can ditch me?"

"Okay, someone needs a chill pill, stat," Casey said, annoyed, "Just take me home. Please. We can do this later."

She re-buckled her seatbelt and waited expectantly. But, when the engine didn't start, she glared at him. "Slow much?"

"Annoyed much," he corrected, "I'm not taking you home."

"What? Why?"

"Because you said you were going to spend the day with me."

"Derek, he's my boyfriend."

"I'm supposed to be your priority—I mean the entire family is," he hurriedly amended.

"Nice save…not. God, you are so self-centered. And, did I mention self-centered?"

His jaw tensed. "I just wanted to spend some time with you. But, no, you always have to be with him."

"I'm not always with him. You pretty much monopolize my time; that is when you're not late picking me up, or ditching me to French some cheerleader."

"I already apologized about that," he said lowly.

"Yeah? Well, guess what? I'm a little busy so I haven't gotten around to forgiving you yet."

He jerked and glared out the windshield.

"Is that what you want to do?" he said, his voice rising again, "Go home and French your stupid boyfriend?"

She turned to him and his gaze was hot, angry, possessive.

This didn't feel right.

This did not feel right.

She used to have these types of conversations with her ex—which was admittedly the hottest and rockiest relationship she'd been in—right before they'd fight and make out in his backseat.

Derek had a backseat. But, Derek was her step-brother.

"I want to go home," she said, eyes fleeing out the window.

"Fine. I don't care. I don't want you here anyway," he hissed and it sounded almost petulant, "There's a game on."

"Well, wheee; bring out the popcorn—ah!"

She shrieked as he grabbed her shoulder roughly, leaning over and barking at her, "He's not frenching you in my house, so you better find somewhere else to do it."

"I will," she promised, glaring at him. She smacked his hand away, where it'd been burning into her, "And, it's not your house anymore, asshole."

"Yes, it is. It's mine. And, so is everything else in it."

God. She'd never wanted to hit him so much in her life. And, she'd never wanted to—something else she couldn't even begin to contemplate—so much either.

--

She missed Derek—which annoyed the hell out of her. She never realized how much time, how much attention he gave her before. Sneaking up on her in her room. Teasing her in the bathroom. Teasing her everywhere else. Driving her and picking her up. Watching movies with her on the couch. Talking with her.

Sure, in a way she'd been kind of blowing him off lately, doing some of these things with Matt, but at least he'd always kept nagging her, trying.

She wanted to make up with him, but the fight had been so weird and charged. And, it was like she was fighting with her other stepsiblings, but somehow completely not. It felt…tense.

Speaking of tense things, Derek suddenly entered the kitchen, clutching his lower back and grimacing. He stiffened even more when he saw her.

"You're home early," he said coldly, "What? Did they run out of extra-credit assignments?"

"Hilarious," she deadpanned, eyes narrowing.

She heard the door open again, but she ignored it when she saw him winch.

"Are you okay?" she asked before she could stop herself.

"I strained something, I think. It's cool, I just need a massage."

"Well-"

"Big D, I know you're hurting, but could you have at least waited for me?"

Enter perky blonde number 568854 Stage Left.

Casey's eyes narrowed as the girl strutted over to him, her hand smoothing down his back.

"You still need that massage?" she whispered.

"Yeah, that would be great, Lisa, thanks."

"Lara," she corrected, pouting.

"Yeah, yeah, that's even prettier."

She beamed and dragged him towards the steps, his soda abandoned on the counter.

Casey huffed. That bitch.

Okay, so where the hell did that come from?

--

"If you don't want me spending time with guys here, then why is it okay for you to be getting back massages via bimbos in your bedroom."

He bristled as she ambushed him. "My back hurt. What? Were you gonna give me one?"

"Well, you never asked me, did you?"

His eyes were lit with surprise and something else as he watched her. "I didn't know I could."

Neither did she.

"Well…" Her cheeks were red and she didn't even know what the hell she was saying around him anymore, "I can do that for you, okay?"

He blinked dumbly. "Okay."

--

They were hanging out again now, but it was weird. And when he looked at her, or touched her—which he was doing a lot—her stomach warmed.

His smirks made her blush.

But, his smile…?

Shit.

--

She saw him before he thought she saw him. He was standing awkwardly by a bulletin board—which was all about Biology, so she doubted he was actually reading it, or maybe that he even could—and glancing sporadically at her.

Weird.

When he finally walked over, he said quietly, "Hey."

"Hey," she answered softly, closing her locker. "What's up, Derek?"

"What…what are you doing Friday?"

Also weird.

"Um, I dunno." She shrugged. "I think Em and I were thinking about going shopping, but we do that almost every week so-"

"I got tickets to a movie," he blurted, cutting her off, "But it's not just any movie. It's big—I mean 3D, I-Max. It's supposed to be so sweet."

"Sounds great," she said, sucked into his warm brown gaze.

But, of course it didn't. Because it didn't sound like anything. Except big apparently.

"Sweet," he said and rushed away.

"Sweet," she said after him.

That was weird, too.

--

The movie was awful. It was about fighting penguins or something…? And they were surrounded by a lot of crying kids. One of them was kicking their seats the whole time.

The popcorn was stale.

He asked her in the car, "Did you have fun?"

"Totally."

"Sweet."

--

Hugging him goodnight was also weird. Because they were both going back to the same place. And they were sort of squeezing each other. And he was sort of stroking her back in slow, steady circles. And, yeah, the whole squeezing thing.

"Did you like the penguins?" he asked and Casey found the question almost incomprehensibly stupid.

"Mmmhmm."

"Sweet."

"Thanks for paying," she said, pulling back so they were still touching, but could see each other.

"No problem. Anytime, Case."

"We can't date," She said abruptly and she could feel him tensing under her "We're siblings."

"Step-siblings."

And, that was apparently persuasive enough, because she kissed him, softly, exploring. Then she pulled back so he could take over if he wanted. And he wanted.

He tipped her head back and rode her lips with his, rough and smooth—like she always thought he would be, not that she'd thought about it, of course, which she had.

She tugged at his sweater, bunching it and bringing him closer as it deepened slowly, steadily, until their movements became jerkier and urgent. She kissed him harder and made him moan a little--and seriously--this was the best damn non-date ever.

She whispered in his mouth, "Sweet."

"Sweet."

His lips brushed hers again and it felt so good.

There were a lot things that felt so damn good about him. His eyes. His smirk. His kindness. His attention. His protection. And, now...his mouth.

And that was defintely weird.

But mostly just hot.

--