How did she do this? Effortlessly wear away at him without so much as opening her mouth? She had chosen a black jersey dress which clung to her body in all the right/wrong places and left him short of breath. And now she was sitting opposite him, her hair scooped up into that half and half style he remembered from their teenage years, regarding the menu with the curiosity of a young child.
And there was the dichotomy that was Casey. She could drop her robe in front of him, argue with him till the cows came home. It would not change the fact that she was an innocent; a thin-skinned innocent.
A thin-skinned innocent in a seductive dress.
Sometimes he was glad he was her husband, because she needed that. She needed a husband. She needed a protector.
He'd been in the protector role since he was fifteen. Was there a long service medal or something? That was only six years but hell sometimes it felt like sixty
"Are you going to choose something, or are we just here for the outing?" His tone was acerbic as usual. How could he be anything else around her?
"There's a lot of choice." She said, firmly. "I'm enjoying taking my time."
He sniffed. "No shit, Sherlock! Just order the vegetarian lasagne. You know you want to."
Casey put down her menu and regarded him like a spoilt child.
"Like you're going to choose something other than steak and chips."
Her husband shrugged. "Hey. If it ain't broke, don't fix it."
"I can see your arteries furring from here."
"Blessed with x-ray vision now, Case? Tell me. How's my prostrate doing?"
Involuntarily, her eyes dropped to approximately where his groin was, although she couldn't see through the table. He smirked and raised his hand to catch the waiter's eye. When he arrived, Derek ordered.
"I'll have the sirloin and fries, hold the dressing and she'll have the mushroom ravioli."
"Der-ek!"
He grinned. "Come on, Casey. You'd decided against the vegetarian lasagne because that's what I said you'd have so the next obvious choice is the ravioli."
He was smug because he knew he'd won.
"Madam?" The waiter asked Casey.
"I'll have the vegetarian lasagne." She said with a resigned look. Derek grinned.
"The trouble with you, Casey, is you are too predictable." He commented as the waiter walked away.
Casey rallied slightly, raising her eyes into her eyebrows.
"Predictable, huh? So the bolting for the bathroom when I was changing earlier was planned…?"
Feeling uncomfortable, but determined not to show it, Derek shrugged.
"I had a sudden urge to vomit."
The waiter brought them wine and Derek watched Casey sip at her solitary glass. He admired her restraint. Their current predicament had him worrying that he was turning into an alcoholic.
They ate in silence, both reluctantly appreciating the food placed before them.
"Did you call in?" Casey asked quietly after a while.
"Yeah."
"And?"
"They are sending someone to check the car. Apparently, they want to make sure it wasn't sabotage."
Her eyes widened. He sighed.
"Casey. Relax. They are over-reacting."
"But what if…?"
"We told no one, we were coming this way. It isn't exactly the more straight forward route home to New York. I'm pretty sure someone watches our car every night in the parking lot. And you saw the guy in the lounge as we came through."
He watched as her breathing stabilised.
"It freaks me out. What with Lizzie and…"
"I know." Derek's voice held no trace of distain or teasing. It was calm, level and honest. "Casey. These guys know what they're doing. Trust them."
She picked up her knife and fork again.
"I don't really have a choice, do I?" She stated.
"No, princess. We don't."
She realised he was as much a victim as she was. It was the only reason she was still here.
The rest of the meal passed quietly, and for them rather peacefully.
"You done?" Derek asked eventually. Casey nodded.
"Shall we?" He continued. She nodded again and that irritating vulnerability was back. – Irritating, because it clawed at him and made him break every vow he had ever made to himself about Casey McDonald…correction…Casey Venturi.
She stood up from the table and clasped her bag to her, and as they made their way from the restaurant, he found his hand on the small of her back guiding her through the lounge area towards the elevator. He nodded slightly to the man seated reading the New York Times with his ankle resting on the opposite knee, but Casey knew she was the only person who noticed – and that was because she expected it.
"He's had a haircut." She commented as the elevator doors closed. "I preferred it longer."
Derek laughed a genuine laugh and after a while, Casey joined in.
It was early, but they couldn't go out so they stayed in their room. Derek flicked on the TV and started channel-hopping, Casey, as per her usual evening routing, pulled her laptop from her suitcase and fired it up. She by-passed the free internet provided by the hotel and used her cell to dial up the encrypted network that came up as her default.
A few moments later and she was entering her email Inbox hoping for something she rarely found. Tonight, however, she was in luck. Her check of her account on gmail had yielded one solitary email, from someone called 'Ben McCloud'. Her breath caught.
"Hi Angel! Just a quick note because I'm on the move again. I spoke to Mom and she tells me everyone is okay, but no news on the Lilly front. I guess no news is good news. She told me to tell you that Rupert is out of diapers! And Mary has started dancing lessons so that she can be like her big sister. She said to tell David that Ewan is currently on suspension for super-gluing the toilet seats down at school and she totally blames David!
I hope the two of you are getting on okay. Mom says she watches the news and wonders every time they report a domestic! I've told her not to be so pessimistic, I'm sure you are working this out in a mature and responsible way! Or at least are being careful that the bruises don't show.
On a serious note, I'm sorry about all the disruption, darling. I know you said you understood, but I would be lying to myself if I believed it. It hurts more than I can say about Lilly. This was not what I became a lawyer for.
Mom asked me to tell you not to worry about her and the rest of the family. Gordon is doing a great job of keeping them sane and aside from the visits to Lilly, life is continuing as normal.
I'm trying not to have false hope, but there is some indication that things will resolve themselves soon. I am hoping to have a date for that.
Look after yourself, Angel. Listen to the guys, they know what they are doing. And listen to David, you may have different life philosophies but he's a good guy and he's always done well by you…pranking aside.
Take Care my darling,
DadXXX"
Derek saw her reading something on her laptop. It made him sigh. It wasn't that he didn't want her to get the emails, because he did, he needed them as much as she did. The problem was he knew what the aftermath was like. He had watched it before.
And sure enough, he watched as she shutdown the laptop, slipped it back into her suitcase, and, having already prepared for bed, made herself a bed on the sofa and tried to go to sleep. Within minutes, as predicted, he heard the soft sound of her sobs.
He hesitated. The very first time this had happened, he had tried to jerk her out of it with his usual gruff, irritating behaviour and he had received a very impressive blow to the jaw for his troubles. The next time he had tried to be reassuring and she hadn't believed he was sincere. He couldn't win when she was like this.
But that didn't mean he had to give up trying.
Derek climbed off the bed and crossed to the sofa. Kneeling beside her he brushed the hair from her face with his fingers and the tears from her cheeks with his thumb. Then saying nothing he stood again, bent towards her and before she could object, he slid his hands under her and lifted her into his arms.
She raised her head and stared at him, but she didn't speak until he had lowered her into his bed and covered her up.
"What are you doing Derek?" Her voice was thick with the tears she had begun to shed.
"You have whiplash. You need a decent night's sleep and sleeping on the couch isn't going to give it too you."
"Where are you going to sleep?"
He shrugged. "On the couch."
Derek lay in the make-shift bed on the couch. The sobbing noise had died away and he was convinced that she was asleep, so her voice in the semi-dark was a surprise.
"Do you miss them?"
"Yes."
"Do you regret making this choice?"
"Everyday."
Her breath hitched. "Oh."
He relented and told the truth.
"No Casey. I don't regret this. I don't enjoy this, but it was the right thing to do." He sat up and turned to face her. "What about you?"
"I hate this. But I'd hate the alternative more."
He reached a hand across towards the bed and her own hand clasped it.
They were quiet for a minute.
"Derek?"
"Yeah?"
"I've thought really hard about it and I think there is a fair chance I won't kill or maim you if you sleep in this bed with me. In a brotherly way, of course."
He snorted. "Brotherly? Casey, We're married. If this was the olden times I would be able to not only insist on us sleeping in the same bed, but I could divorce you for not putting out. You can't use that brother /step-brother crap against me anymore."
He sounded irritated, but he was on his feet and moving towards his side of the bed.
She felt a draught as he pulled back the covers and then the bed dipped as he climbed in.
"For the record, your virtue is safe." He added.
AN: This should have been posted last night, but my internet service was down.
I am expecting:
a) A flood of people telling me what they think is going on.
b) A flood of people saying they guessed what was going on in chapter 1 and this chapter just confirms it.
Sorry. I'm predictable.
