here's a thing I wrote. I don't know how I feel about it. It was just kinda an idea I had for a multi-chapter, but I haven't done a multi-chapter before, so I don't know if I'm capable of it :/. Let me know your thoughts!

I own nada.

Sam Richards was sitting at the kitchen table when his attention was unceremoniously jerked away from his Econ textbook, and towards the tornado that had just blown through the doorway of his apartment. This wasn't any ordinary tornado though. Instead of being the result of a clash between hot and cold atmosphere, it was the result of a clash between Derek Venturi and Casey McDonald. Who, admittedly, could both be at times both hot and cold. (No, Sam most definitely did not just call his best friend hot. It's just that, well, an unbiased observer would.)

"No chance Casey. Not gonna happen. Not even if you paid me," Was the first thing Sam was able to discern after their entrance. He hadn't the slightest idea what they were fighting about (half the time he wondered if even they knew), but whatever it was, I was HUGE. It had to be if Derek was so opposed to it he was willing to pass up the opportunity to make a profit.

Derek dropped his bag by the door and made a beeline for the fridge, pulling out a toxic, caffeinated "energy" drink that not even Sam would consume. Casey was standing on the opposite side of the kitchen's island from Derek (an image that reminded Sam of high school and the already too-full house that he had spent as much time at as his own), her bag still perched neatly on her shoulder despite all the stomping and frantic arm-flailing she had been doing. Her face was red and her breaths short, not an uncommon occurrence during a conflict between her and Derek. Derek looked mildly irritated, masking his usual lack of control during these spats as he tended to do in public.

"But you have to," she whined. Sam winced. Was it possible for that sound to actually damage your ears? From the look on Derek's face, he assumed the two of them were thinking the same thing. "I can't do it on my own! And as my brother, you should feel obligated to help me."

Derek's eyes narrowed in a way that wasn't the least bit comical. "If I really am your brother," he spit the word out with disdain (he had never really gotten over the whole "same difference" thing, and it had been two years!) "Then I would be trying to scare this guy off, not throw him into your bed."

Derek was adamant. But Sam was wary. Over the past two-ish years, since the three of them had started at Queens, Casey had found herself party to a close friendship among them (even if Derek wouldn't admit it). Casey liked to call them the three musketeers. Derek liked to call them the world's smallest gang. Sam liked to call them punishment for a past life that must have been led as a serial killer.

This was how Sam knew that Casey was to be feared. She only used the "b word" when she was desperate, because in all honesty she hated referring to him as family as much as he did. So this was most definitely something she wasn't giving up on. And knowing Casey to be much more terrifying than she was often given credit for, Sam was concerned about his friend.

Casey was clearly getting increasingly agitated. "I hardly know him. But you do. He's your friend and teammate! I know you have no desire to see me happy, but what if I'm his soul mate and without me he'll die alone!" She huffed, needing to catch her breath after that rant.

"Can't be worse than spending the rest of his life with you. You're right, he is my friend, and I therefore want to spare him from enduring any sort of relationship with you." The words were biting, but any hint of a teasing tone was absent from his voice. Sam was beginning to get worried.

Here's what he knew. 1) Casey was worked up over some guy. 2) This guy was not only on the hockey team, but someone Derek considered a friend. 3) Casey wanted Derek's help with this guy. 4) Derek did NOT want to help.

Sam briefly wondered why Casey hadn't just gone to him. He would have been more likely to help and less likely to tease her. If this guy was on the hockey team, Sam obviously knew him, and if he was friendly with Derek than he was probably friendly with Sam too. But then he realized that despite the lack of any lingering feelings, and the presence of the strong friendship that emerged, Casey wasn't the type of person to ask her ex for guy advice.

It was killing Sam not knowing who this guy was. Then he remembered; he was capable of communicating with them. It was easy to forget, not only because they often tuned out everything and everyone else when they were going at it, but because Sam often felt like a spectator. It was almost like he was watching them on screen rather than in person. So he finally spoke up.

"Who, may I ask, would you be sparing, D? The sudden introduction of Sam's voice into their debate startled them, but they quickly recovered.

Derek scoffed. "Ben Sheffield. Casey wants me to help her seduce Ben Sheffield." He said, as if it were the most preposterous statement he had ever heard. Which, frankly it kind of was. Ben was a nice guy, but a total Derek clone. He even served as Derek's back up on the team. Casey would practically be dating Derek!

Wait a minute.

"Der-ek! I'm not seducing anybody!" The easiest way to make Casey indignant was to suggest she might act in a way that's remotely sexual. Something Sam thought was a bit embarrassing for a 20 year old woman pursuing a romantic relationship.

"That's for sure." Derek muttered, but his step-sister didn't hear him.

"I simply want you to help me show Ben that he and I could make a great couple." She continued. Someone who didn't know her very well wouldn't have been able to pick up on it, but she was a bit hesitant. Was she embarrassed? Or afraid she wouldn't convince him?

Derek violently tossed his empty can in the recycling bin beside the island. "What makes you think you'd be a great couple?! You barely know the guy!"

"Which is why I need your help!" She pleaded. Things weren't looking good for Casey. But then Sam saw a certain look in her eye. A look he had grown to fear in the six years he had known her. The girl had a trick up her sleeve. Derek better watch out.

It seemed Derek had caught the look too. "How do you think you're gonna get it Princess?" He said condescendingly. The boy had no sense of self-preservation.

Casey surveyed the open-floor plan of the small apartment, glancing from the dining area (a.k.a. the small table where Sam sat) through the cramped kitchen where Derek stood, down the hallway leading to the bathroom and the two boys' bedrooms, finally landing in the area behind her, the "living room" that lay on her side of the island. It included a battered couch they got at a yard sale, a "trendy" chair Casey had somehow persuaded Sam to buy, and their entertainment system. That entertainment system was where her gaze was fixed, specifically on the gaming console.

Casey smirked, sending a shiver down Sam's spine. She must have learned that from Derek. "I'll make you a bet." Sam suppressed a groan. This couldn't end well.

Her step-brother's eyes lit up. "Consisting of what exactly, Case?" He asked cockily. Shouldn't he know better by now?

She smiled at him sweetly. "Babe Raider III. One game. You win, I drop the issue. I win, you help me."

Derek shot back at her the smirk she had given him only moments earlier. "You're on."

"Oh boy," Sam said, but of course it went ignored. It was gonna be a long night, and he could forget about studying for Econ.

The poor boy was proven correct when two hours later a cry of victory rang out through the apartment. It belonged to Casey.

So should I continue?