Ta da! Another little one-shot. Now this one may be slightly confusing at first but I checked it over and I don't think I'm missing any information that you need. Although it is 1:33am so forgive me for the careless mistakes I know I missed.
This chapter came out of silly (stupid) boys, bottled water, sunshine and John Krasinski. Oh dear goodness. :D
I hope you enjoy this! R&R!
Disclaimer: All I own, sadly, is the image of Dasey actually happening, in my head. *Grumble grumble Family Channel.*
"Casey," Derek whined, rolling over and burying his face in the pillow. "It's fucking midnight and I have a game tomorrow! Can we please go to sleep now?"
His only response from the brunette was the clicking of her laptop keyboard and an annoyed sigh. "When I'm finished this chapter Derek."
He groaned, "That's what you said half an hour ago!"
"And I'm still not done, so shut up or suck it up. Or both. You choose."
Derek lifted his head up from the pillow, blowing some of his messy bed-head hair out of his eyes so he could glare at his wife. Of course, she was totally oblivious, biting her lip as she concentrated on the screen. Her forehead had a slight crease in it from concentrating so hard and he felt a wave of sympathy wash over him. He passed it off as just tiredness.
Three years. Three long, painful, wonderful years of being married to this insane woman. Yes, married. They had gotten married right after University, which hadn't really surprised anyone. Even their school friends barely said anything as they saw them strolling down the streets of London hand in hand, looking at potential spots to hold the ceremony.
Life was good, so far. Derek had a good job settled down, with his own private film business. So far, all he was doing was filming local parties and weddings and sometimes filling in for some of the camera men at the local news station, but that was only sometimes. And every Tuesday, Thursday and Friday, he coached the local high school hockey team, which required him to show up at each and every game. Like the game tomorrow, that was going to be taking place in a small town a three hour drive away from Toronto. God he was going to be so tired if this woman didn't let him sleep.
"When we bought this house, you told me you wanted your own office, overlooking the gardens so you could write. I made you a fucking office and painted it that "egg shell" blue colour for you and everything. Can't you use it?" He whined to his wife. Derek knew he sounded needy, but the five things he loved the most in life we're food, sleep, hockey, beer and Casey. You mess with either one of those and the result was never pretty.
Casey spared him a glance this time and he felt his breath catch in his throat. She was still just as beautiful now as when she was in high school, when she had first captured his heart. Her hair was pulled back in a messy pony tail and she leaned up against the headboard, knees up with her laptop balanced on them. Her black sweater was zipped up to her neck and her little black shorts were ridding up a little with her current position.
"I am in a zone Derek. A good zone. If I leave this position, this area, the zone could disappear and this chapter would never be finished. It would be a total waste of time and this whole book would be a waste of time and it would never get published because-"
"Okay! I get it!" He snapped, rolling over so his back was to her. He heard her sigh once more and the typing picked up again.
Don't get me wrong. Derek loved that Casey was writing. He loved that in such a short time, she had already had one book published and it had done really well. So well, her editor suggested writing a sequel or making it a series which was what she was working on now. Although it wasn't working quite as well as the first one, which was to be expected. It's always hard to recreate the magic of a good thing. Or so Casey told him.
Click, click, click, click, click.
The sound of her fingers bouncing off the keys was rhythmic and if Derek really tried hard, he could make out a pattern or beat in the typing. It always boggled his mind, how one person could sit down and write words, any bunch of words and if they fell into the right places at the right times, they told a story. Not all stories were good or happy but they all were created by one person, usually. One idea. And to him, that was pretty neat; especially when it's someone you know who does it. Someone like Casey.
"Derek?" Casey's voice rang in the quiet room. It shook a little, and he wondered if she actually thought he was mad at her. He hadn't been really mad at her in a long time. Sure, he got pissed or annoyed, but never spitting mad.
"Hmm?"
"What's another word for 'declaration'?"
"Speech?"
"No not really." She said thoughtfully. "More like something final. A speech can be so open ended and it's not really-"
"Statement? Affirmation?"
She paused. And then he could almost hear her smiling. He could feel the way the corners of her mouth twitched up and he felt her gaze on his back, probably giving him one of her "Pleasantly Surprised" looks.
And then lips were on his cheek for a quick kiss. Before he could even think about moving his head to meet them, they were gone.
"That's what I was looking for." And she was back to typing. Ah, the ups and downs in this relationship of theirs.
He must have dozed off for a few minutes, which is surprising seeing as he has never been able to sleep with a light on, and Casey had turned them all on.
"Done!" She exclaimed, clicking a few more before shutting of her laptop and smiling down at him.
He blinked blearily. "Are you sure?"
"Yes Derek."
"Are you positive?"
She rolled her eyes. "Yes Derek. The chapter is done and we can go to bed. Happy?"
He grunted in agreement, watching as she climbed out of bed and placed the laptop on top of her dresser. She unzipped her sweater so it was hanging open, and bent down to unplug the charging corner from the wall and Derek stopped breathing for a second.
"What are you wearing?"
Casey lifted her head up to shoot him a confused look. "What are you talking about?"
He lifted a finger to point at her barely covered chest. The light blue, lacy bra clinging to her breasts was something new. Casey had often given him the lecture about strong, independent women not needing to wear something so risqué for themselves or a man.
This was something totally new. Not that he was complaining.
Casey looked down at herself and blushed. Apparently she forgot about the damn thing.
"Oh this? I saw it when I was shopping with Mattie this afternoon and thought it looked alright. She was the one who insisted I buy the set."
Derek swallowed hard. "Set?"
"Yeah. Like a bra and panties set. I don't know why I bought it or anything but..."
And he watched her slip the shorts down her long, tanned legs. Then the sweater fell off her shoulders and onto the floor as well. Derek felt all the blood in his body run south.
Casey slipped her fingers into the hair tie and slid it out of her thick locks, shaking them to give them a little more bounce and volume and Derek began thinking of all the times he'd fantasized in high school of girls doing this exact sort of thing.
Only they were playboy models or girls in the bikini sections of Sports Illustrated.
Now, he had a sexy, keener wife who had read her fair share of romance books and already knew a thing or two and had showed them to him several times over the past couple of years. This was something that he'd only seen on their honeymoon.
And before he could process his own actions, he had sat up, reached over and caught her around the waist, tugging her down on to the bed with him. Oh he was going to be majorly tired tomorrow and probably wouldn't be able to focus at all on the game. But he always knew there was one reason why marrying a keener was a good thing.
Chances are, if you have a keener, she's also probably an OCD maniac and a perfectionist. This can be a good thing under the right circumstances.
And as Casey's hands slid down his back, grasping the bottom of his t-shirt and began pulling it up and over his head, he decided that it was a very good thing.
