sorry this took a while. I wanted to be more punctual, but I've been busy with school and thanksgiving (family and food and house cleaning, oh my!). I know, this is kinda short, but... *shrugs*. I know nothing about hockey, by the way, which is why the descriptions are kinda vague. Hopefully this turned out ok.

Seeing as my latest film project was just a bunch of shots of clothes, it's not very likely that I own a retired television show.

"VENTURI!"

Derek picked his head up at the sound of his name, and looked over to see his coach waving him over. He let out a sigh of relief. It had been a tough practice, and he was having trouble keeping up with the scrimmage they were ending with.

"I'm putting in Sheffield. He needs some time on the ice, and you can barely skate straight. You better be conscious tomorrow if you plan on playing this weekend. If not, well, at least he'll be in decent shape."

"Fair enough coach." Derek knew, believe it or not, that there were some people he really shouldn't pick a fight with.

He probably wouldn't be having this much trouble, he thought as he skated off the ice, if he had slept better last night. But, he had been up late thinking about this stupid bet. Damn his inability to turn down a bet, especially when it came to Casey. He knew she had been sneaking into his apartment and playing Babe Raider while he was out! As a matter of fact, it was more than likely she and Sam played together all the time. That was one thing they had continued to do together long after their break-up.

And now he was stuck helping Casey seduce (he refused to call it anything other than what it was) Ben. Ben, who was currently skating over to the place Derek had just occupied. The boys exchanged a nod. One thing that really differentiated Ben from Derek, he had noticed, was that Ben was a really good sport. While Ben was happy to be a back-up, Derek's pride would never be able to handle playing second-string. Maybe he would have been okay with it as a freshman (not that he had needed to be), but certainly not as a junior.

It was the similarities between the two that unsettled Derek, though. The most obvious was that they played the same position on the team. They also looked fairly similar (brown hair, brown eyes, mischievous smirk...). Derek had found that they liked a lot of the same music, movies, and TV shows. And Ben seemed to share Derek's own weakness for the opposite sex, which meant Casey really wouldn't have to work that hard to get the former's attention.

Not that the last thing applied to Derek.

Oh who was he kidding?

Derek had resigned himself a long time ago to the fact that had Casey not been his stepsister, their relationship would be quite intimate at this point. But she was his stepsister. And she hated him. And they were total opposites. Though, the opposites thing was a small challenge for someone like Ben, who wasn't her stepbrother. For Derek, on the other hand, it was one of many obstacles that prevented him from having any chance with Casey. Unfortunately, no one told his dreams that. They also didn't tell his dreams that Casey probably didn't have a whole lot of sexual experience.

Yeah, Derek was screwed.


The good news was that when Derek walked in the door after arriving home from practice that evening he was met with the aroma of cooking meat. The bad news was that Sam was walking in behind him, so obviously he wasn't doing the cooking. This could only mean one thing. They had an unwelcome guest, and Derek had a sinking feeling he knew who it was.

"How was practice?" Casey asked from beside the stove. She bit her lip, bating big, innocent eyes at them. She obviously was hoping that it wouldn't occur to the boys that she didn't belong there. Derek was amazed that she could act so well on stage (not that he would ever tell her that), but off stage a blind man could see right through her.

"How the hell did you get in here?" Derek demanded, while gravitating towards the brunette in his kitchen. Sam rolled his eyes and planted himself on the couch. Both of their hockey bags were left at the door.

"With my key, obviously." Casey wrinkled her nose, which Derek pointedly ignored. He was not going to let her enforce her standards in his apartment. The hockey bags stayed.

"You don't have a key. Wait - did you make a copy of my key?!" That sounded like something he would do! (It was something he did do, he had three copies of her key in his sock drawer and she didn't know about a single one.)

"Of course not, I'm not a criminal," she scoffed. Right, of course not. Derek may have driven Perfect Miss Casey to do some devious things, but she wasn't that creative. She cast her eyes down, suddenly finding the counter top very interesting. "Sam gave it to me," she muttered.

Derek spun around to face Sam. "YOU WHAT?! This is why blondes always die first in horror movies, Sammy. They always trust the monster. I thought you had enough experience with Klutzilla to know better!"

Sam turned to his roommate with a look of disbelief and exasperation written all over his face. "She's over here all the time anyways. Her having a key makes our lives easier."

Clearly everyone was conspiring against him.

"So, Derek..." Casey cut in. "Are we gonna start working on me and Ben?"

"Tomorrow." Derek growled, and stalked off to his room. It didn't matter how good the meat (beef, he had noticed) cooking on the stove smelled. Suddenly, he had lost his appetite.

I have a thing for italics, as you may have noticed.