Chapter 4: Let's Talk It Out

Crap. Crap. Crap, crap, crap, crap, CRAP! . . . Shit!

I was literally fuming; Paul and Casey had fear in their eyes, as well the pansy in front of me. Someone (ahem, Stupid McStupid aka Mr. Hopkins) sent what's-his-face to Paul's office.

Clearly this stupid man needs to go back to stupid kindergarten and take stupid naps, sucking his stupid thumb.

This. Is. So. Stupid!

All I can think about is how this pansy's face is going to look when I'm through with him. Casey has her hand on my forearm, trying to calm with "soothing" words. Fat chance of me calming down anytime soon.

"Now, Derek," Paul begins. I shut him up with a glare that would make your blood run cold.

I can't believe it! That pansy is smirking!

He's freakin smirking at me! At me!

He. Is going. To die.

Soon.

"Yes, Derek. You need to calm down," the pansy prods. Oh, I'll calm down all right. Right after you're paying millions of dollars for plastic surgery from my fists.

A sneer crawls onto my face, and Casey looks utterly afraid. Not so much of me – she knows I would never hurt her – but scared of what I'm going to do to the Smirking Pansy.

That's his new name, by the way. Smirking Pansy. Hehe...

"You. Touched. Her." I speak in a low growl.

Casey had just sat down in the chair with me against the wall when there was a knock on the door. Paul groaned almost inaudibly, but I caught it and smirked a bit.

"Yes?" he calls, his head resting in his hands. The door opens, and there he stands. In all his stupid pansyness.

A scowl crosses my face as he notices Casey. I immediately stand up straight and stalk closer to her. "What are you doing here?"

"What's it to you?" he retorts.

My fists clench. "In case you hadn't noticed, we are having a session, so if you kindly exit the premises, then we can be along our separate ways."

"I must agree with Derek, uh, Mr.?" Apparently he's just as bad with names as I am.

"Just Mitch," he says and winks at Casey.

I could kill him.

"Well, Mitch," I say, using his name with as much venom as I could ever recall using."Paul says he agrees, so, leave." I stand in front of Casey, crossing my arms.

"Wait, are we talking about the Mitch who is the cause of all this?" Paul asks, bewildered.

"By 'this' I assume you mean the note?" Pansy inquires.

Idiot.

"Yes, that's what I mean," Paul said quickly.

"Also, the way you seem to be stalking Casey. Dude, you seriously need to get a life," I add, much to Paul's displeasure. Pansy isn't phased; or at least he's not showing it.

"What are you?" Pansy has the gall to ask.

"I believe the correct term is 'who', not 'what,'" Casey corrects him with an air of confidence.

He smirks, "No, I mean 'what.'"

I let a scoff escape from my throat before marching up to it – er, I mean, him.

"I'm your nightmares come to life," I say, my tone menacing.

"Is that so?" He looks me up and down, "Yep. I definitely see the resemblance. With you and my grandmother, I mean."

"Dude, that comeback was so lame..." I'm at a loss for words. I've never heard such a lame comeback in my entire life. That's really bad – considering all the comebacks that I've heard. "Oh, my ears are bleeding. I can feel my brains just oozing out of my ears." I clench my hands over my ears and double over, feigning pain.

He makes a disgusted face and I smirk with triumph. Take that, Smirking Pansy.

"All right, then. Son, why don't you go get two chairs. It looks like we're going to be awhile..." Paul addresses me.

"Me? Why don't you just send Pansy over here?" I ask, not wanting to leave Casey alone – by that I mean without me – in Smirking Pansy's presence.

"Fine. Pa-Mitch, go get two chairs."

I give a small chuckle. I am manipulating even the guidancecounselor to bend to my ways. Muahahaha!

Mitch scowls (must've heard me chuckle... or he could've heard Paul almost use his real name) and goes on a hunt for two chairs. Casey looks up at me, and basically her eyes tell me 'You'd better behave, Derek Venturi, or I'll make you pay for it.' I gulp and uncross my arms; my fists never unclench. We wait in a not-so-pleasant silence until Pansy comes back with the chairs. I take one from him – not too nicely, mind you – and place it beside Casey. He merely shrugs (I'm gonna kill 'im, I keep telling you) and puts his chair on Casey's other side.

Damn. I forgot about her other side.

Paul cringes at the look of disdain on my face and props his head in his hand.

"Is anyone going to tell me the whole story here?" Paul asks, looking a little desperate and more than peeved.

I don't blame him.

I sigh and look at Casey. She furrows her brow and I nod. She shakes her head and I nod again. (Notice our beautiful relationship has it's benefits when it comes to eye contact).

She sighs and tells the story (from her point of view – it sounded strange like that) from beginning to end. When she spoke of Sam, my not-too-long-but-still-existent-nails dug into my skin, making little crescent moons on my palms. I sigh in relief when she didn't go into depth about the, er, pace in our relationship.

When she gets up to where we are (the present) I smirk, admiring the purpling bruise on Smirking Pansy's face.

"Well, that is certainly... interesting," Paul says. I distinctly hear Casey mutter 'that's the understatement of the century' under her breath. "Er, Pan-Mit-Pa – what's your name again?" Wow, he really is bad with names. At least I can remember Smirking Pansy.

"Mitch. What is it with you two and names?" Pansy snaps. Aw, please, that wouldn't even leave a tooth mark.

I roll my eyes, "I only remember names of important people."

He makes a face and leans back in his chair. I lean forward and Casey seems to be just extremely uncomfortable.

"Uh, okay. Mitch," Paul says, almost as if he didn't believe him. "Why are you bothering Casey so? It's obvious that she and Derek are a couple." Well, he's taking it with a lot of grace. I expected blubbering and sputtering and lots more 'ings' than this.

"Because I always get what I want. And I want Casey," Pansy replies. Before I could do anything, he put his hand on her thigh.

Oh, this bitch is going to die.

I jump out of my chair, causing it to fall backwards. I quickly pull Casey behind me. Pansy stands up and tries to back away.

So here we are, Casey behind me, Paul cowering at his desk, and Pansy backed against the wall. Hmm... what's a guy to do in this situation? I've already laid down the law, so, maybe I'll just punch his face in.

Casey looked up at me with admiration (peripheral vision does wonders for your knowledge) and stopped trying to calm me down. Maybe she finds me being protective a turn-on.

Oh, who am I kidding. I'm a walking turn-on.

"Hey, I told you I always get what I want," Pansy said, acting like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I am not something to be owned!" Casey said, enraged. She stepped more to the side of me, as my partner, not as someone to have to be protected.

I finally understood. We're in this together.

"She is a human being, you piece of scum. Unlike you," I said with venom, being sure to enunciate each and every syllable to get my point across.

Pansy put a hand over his heart, "Oh, how will I ever survive. Derek, you just hurt me so much." Wow, he actually used his real voice: a squeak.

"Good. Would you like me to hurt you again? Free of charge," I said, smiling like the Cheshire cat.

"No, that's fine. You can have it back," he said.

"Sorry, there's a no return policy."

I lunged at him. Soon he was on the floor (sound familiar? The parking lot with Sam) and I was swinging punches mercilessly.

Before I could do any excruciatingly painful damage, Casey pulled me off, her arms around my chest, trying to hold me back.

"Derek! Derek, you need to calm down. This solves nothing," she said into my ear, making me calm down.

"Except for a few of my anger issues," I added. I heard her laugh and I smiled, immediately easing up. Pansy just laid there – bleeding (whoop, whoop!) - whimpering.

"Derek, that was unnecessary. I'm afraid that, although I was fully on your side, I'm going to have to recommend suspension," Paul chided. I nodded, not caring in the least.

Talking always helps my mood.