A/N - Thanks to all those who reviewed. I was really nervous about the writing style I chose for this, and I'm so happy you guys like it. :) I just hope that I can finish this chapter fic before the writing bug leaves me.
I do not own Life With Derek, so really, there's no reason for you guys not to review out of jealousy. ;P
Chapter 1---
He knows it, and she knows it. Derek Venturi had a knack of knowing how to do certain things, how to manipulate certain people, and how to always get what he wants. But don't let that easy-breezy lifestyle fool you, it's an art form that only the most attentive of students could embrace, and live by. And luckily for Derek, being able to get around people was God's gift to him, and he was convinced, on a whole, a gift to mankind. He hasn't made the connection yet, but he's pretty close.
Casey McDonald on the other hand is the anti-Derek. Even though she might see it as a compliment, everyone knows, it's not. While he's in the world to spread the word of joy, fun and many dangerous yet entertaining ideas courtesy of the stuntman 'Edwin Venturi', Casey has been put on this world to suck out the very thing he brings into it. Hasn't the world suffered enough? With the floods, avalanches, earthquakes, do we really need to add Casey McDonald to that list?
And the Queen Klutzilla is now his roommate. How wonderful. Maybe he should visit his friend's aunt's best friend, who happens to be an an African Medical man with knowledge of the black arts. He could easily get some of her hair for the ritual of pinning needles into dolls.
But right now, he was staring her down. Yup, staring and glaring are two different things. He was not the glaring type, unlike his opponent who was sitting opposite him, poised for battle. She was not under any circumstances, going to march into his home and demand things of him, without giving him the same right of demanding things from her.
She sighed. A sigh of defeat. "Fine." She mumbled. And Derek pictured a monkey doing a victory dance. Okay, so maybe he has been watching too many Simpson reruns. "I will tivo my tv shows when your games are on. But I want at least a day's notice."
Derek nodded in agreement. A small price to pay for winning the bigger battle. So he sometimes might forget to warn her. It could happen. "Next." He said gesturing at the list she held in her hand. Damn her and her list making influence.
She scrunched up her face in concentration as she read requirement number six. "No studying in the living room?" She looked at him, confused. "How is studying going to bother you?"
He expected this. Actually he expected her protests for all his requirements. Which is exactly why he added some bogus ones for pure entertainment purposes. Who wouldn't crack up at the concept that Casey's hot, girlfriends should wear micro mini skirts when visiting their apartment? Not Casey obviously, who had no sense of humour. He didn't need a lecture about respecting women's bodies. He respected them enough for the bodies to come back for more.. respecting, didn't he?
"Think of it this way." He leaned forward to emphasize his point. "If I want to get some guys together and hang out, you would yell at me for no reason because we would be disturbing you from doing something you could easily do in your room." Casey scoffed her annoyance. A sign that he was right.
"Fine." She snapped. "But no parties or get-togethers or movie marathons when I'm having my finals."
"Fine. But only if you don't nag at me constantly."
He could see Casey chew her bottom lip thoughtfully. Maybe he should get the girl some gum. It must not be healthy to eat your own skin so frequently. "Define constantly." She said slowly.
Seriously, what did he look like? A dictionary? "Um.. Nagging me on the whole, is pretty much constant." He said slowly as if speaking to a four year old. He would be lying if he said he took no pleasure in how her eyes narrowed in offence.
"I cant promise no nagging." She said stubbornly.
If she wanted to play it that way, it was fine by him. "Then I cant promise to be considerate." So, he might have said that in a slightly more cocky manner than was needed, but that was no reason to toss a pencil at his head. It was a good thing her sport was dance and not karate or any other deadly style of martial arts. Imagine the damage she could have done if she had any upper arm strength. "Ow! What the hell!" He couldn't help but yelp. In all fairness, the possibility of being attacked by a pencil was unexpected, and she could have blinded him. He was just saying. Not that a pencil could injure him.
"Sorry." She mumbled. Funny, he couldn't hear the remorse in her voice.
"Yeah, sorry that you missed." He rubbed his forehead for good measure. Might as well rub it in.
She smiled. "You know me well." And just like that, they were smiling at each other. He had forgotten how much fun it was to have her around, even if ninety percent of the time, she annoys the shit out of him.
Casey stood up. "Dinner?" Code word for 'truce'. Actually, any word associated with food could be a code word as far as he was concerned.
"Knock yourself out." Derek gestured towards the kitchen. Mi kitchen, su kitchen.
It was weird. Their relationship was based on a hate/not quite hate dynamic that Derek didn't have with anyone else. And thank God for that. He didn't believe the world could handle another Casey. That night, she made dinner, and he washed up. Yes, there were instances where they worked together. And no, he would never admit that little tit-bit of information to anyone. But really, it is not quite out of the ordinary if you think about it. How else were you suppose to survive one another for three years without giving into that first instinct of pre-meditated murder? If he had the chance, he would probably take it. Or maybe he wouldn't. His decision will depend on whether she annoyed him at all that day.
It also surprised him to realize that they didn't lack conversation topics throughout the night. That is, if you consider, "You're such an idiot.", "George would not approve.", and "Are you crazy?" part of a top notch conversational piece. And he did contribute a bit in the form of "Klutzilla", "Princess", and "Space-Case" among other colourful statements. What could he say? He loved the classics.
Besides the obvious squabble over nothing, the meal was pretty uneventful. How was Derek to know that this simple act of feeding oneself while conversing with another would become a nightly ritual of theirs? No matter what the day entailed.
