A/n: So, here's my twist: I couldn't stop myself once I started. I really tried, but it just wasn't happening, so I continued the drabbles. For the challenge's sake I added dashes (a long, quite obvious set) to where the drabble should have stopped had I followed the rules. Of course, my drabbles are Dasey, so I'm breaking rules just writing these things. I might as well break them all, right? This is part one of 10…the rest will be coming shortly.
Disclaimer: Still looking for the most creative way to deny ownership of LWD.
Coyotes—Jason Mraz
It was nearly two in the afternoon and Derek Venturi had just woke up. It had been a long night, last night. His typical Friday night of party, drinks, and girls. Normally he could find one girl to have hang on him all night, but he seemed to have a problem with his mouth. Every other word out of it had been about Casey, his stepsister Casey. He didn't really know what had come over him to talk about her as much as he did, it just happened. Apparently his talk kept scaring off girl after girl.
He knew better than to stay out much past midnight, even on a Friday. He did want to have the next Friday at his disposal, after all. Reason flew out the window when he heard tell of another party going on in another neighborhood. It didn't interest him much, until Sam mentioned that Casey was there. Casey wasn't one for the party scene, typically, but she had just broken up with Max for the third time and this time it seemed to stick. And Casey had been looking for a way to distract her sorrows. Derek knew Casey was a logical person, he also knew that she didn't drink, normally. But she had seemed desperate lately for anything that would remove her mind from Max Miller. -- -- -- -- -- -- --It only took a couple of seconds for Derek to decide that Casey and parties probably weren't the best mix at the moment and it was up to him to do something about it. Who knew that Derek with a buzz could quickly become Derek with a mission?
It didn't take him long to spot the party house once he finally got to the neighborhood (Sam's directions had been spotty at best). The Prince's engine had barely died before he was hopping out of the car and racing up the walk to the house. He spotted Casey instantly, sitting next to the keg, a red plastic cup clenched in her hand. It couldn't have been a better opportunity to approach her. Under the pretense of getting a drink, Derek approached Casey.
"Heya, Case. Imagine seeing you here." He said in an overly bright manner, as he placed a cup under the tap.
"Go 'way, Derek." Her response was almost nearly a moan and he could tell getting her away from the drink was going to be hard. He hadn't even thought about sneaking her into the house drunk yet.
"What 'cha doing here, Princess? Parties aren't your thing, remember?" He was doing his best to grab and keep her attention, hoping the old pet name would garner some sort of response. Even the detested name did no good. The most he got out of her was a lazy swat of the hand, as if she were trying to shoo him away. And a sloppy attempt to drink more of the amber liquid in her cup.
"Come on, Case, let's go home." He stood from the sitting position he had adopted in his attempt to get her to talk and held out a hand, international symbol of offering help.
"Nu-uh." She muttered and he wondered if she realized how much she behaved like a two year old when drunk. "Wan' stay here. Go 'way Derek." She whined quietly. Somewhere in her brain, though, logic was still working and she reached a hand out to him. Not one to miss an opportunity, he grabbed her wrist and held on tight.
Fighting his own dull buzz, Derek led the stepsister who had been on his mind out of the house and to the Prince carefully and slowly. Carefully because if Casey was Klutzilla when sober, she was King Kong Klutzilla when drunk and slowly, well, Derek didn't really have a reason for that one. Except for some reason his arm around her waist and her head leaning against his shoulder were two feelings he didn't want rushed.
The rest of the night had been a blur. He remembered slightly pulling into the garage and helping Casey into the house, shushing her giggles about sneaking into the house. He remembered her getting into her bed and him pulling the blankets up around her. He also remembered kissing her forehead before he left the room. He had assumed she was asleep. Judging by the annoyed look on her face that he couldn't help but smirk at as he sipped his coffee, she hadn't been.