A/N: Wow, I didn't realize cutting the last chapter off there (instead of my original cut-off point) would be so suspenseful! Well, I hope it's not anticlimactic. This story, once again, is not coming out how I'd like. I think I only really liked my first LWD story, "What You Need." This chapter is the little aftermath, and the next will be everyone's thoughts about what happened and some more Pasey. Then after that ... well, I'll surprise you. R&R please!
Derek stepped from around the side of the wall that blocked him from the theater seats, moving quietly. Glancing up immediately to the back row where he'd seen Casey spying on him and Emily. When his eyes focused, the sight before him made his breath catch in his throat and refuse to continue for the next few moments.
His first instinct was to spring up the aisle and stop what he thought was an attack. But as he began to lunge, he noticed, confused that Casey's head was bent lazily as she slowly and unhurriedly touched her lips to the teacher's. He suddenly took in Casey's grip on the man's sleeve as if pulling him closer. He realized she was not struggling, that the guidance counselor was not holding her down but caressing her cheek, and slowly moving a hand down her back. He had no idea what to do.
He stepped back again, taking his foot off the stair he had been prepared to leap from, his face a mix of bewilderment and pain. Rushing, still quietly, back to the other side of the wall where the shadows would hide him, his eyes darted back and forth as he tried to understand. He exhaled deeply, exasperated almost, at his utter lack of comprehension of what the situation was and what to do about it. He felt like everything outside of him was spiraling away from him and all he could do was grip the wall behind him with the palms of his hands to keep from getting pulled into the chaos. He realized in a flash that it felt like his heart was stopped and he made an effort to breathe and control the pain in his chest. The first coherent thought he had was, Maybe it wasn't me she was spying on after all…
Derek heard a voice, and held his breath again.
---
Paul broke away from the kiss just as quickly as he'd leaned into it. He'd been trailing his hand down Casey's back and had come to a small space of skin between the end of her shirt and the top of her jeans. When his fingers grazed the soft smooth area, his sudden awareness of the body against him made him freeze and recoil.
Covering his mouth in horror, Paul turned to look ahead at the still-rolling credits. No, oh God no, it's not real. Focus, focus … Assistant to Mr. Jackson … Assistant to Mr. Jackson's Assistant… oh my God what have I done?
Casey sat in a similar position, keeping her eyes on anything but Paul. What have I done? She thought, each blaming themselves. Sure, she had always thought Paul was attractive for an older man, and they were very close because of her almost-daily sessions with him. He probably knew more about her problems than her own mother. She had wanted comfort, she had wanted something of her own to erase the image of Derek and Emily. She had needed to be … wanted. But Paul was her guidance counselor, and a teacher. This was so so wrong, she thought. But the brief pang that had gone through her when the kiss was broken had whispered the terrifying thought that it was exactly what she'd needed.
The thoughts swimming in Paul's head were not pleasant. They could not be tossed around and dramatized the way a teenager would treat them. Paul was 32, and married with two children. He was a teacher, a guidance counselor, a trusted member of the school and, well, society. For him to do something so incredibly foolish and irresponsible, not to mention a horrible breach of trust … no matter what his still-ambiguous feelings toward Casey were, whether they stemmed from loneliness or … something he wouldn't allow himself to name … he couldn't do this to her. She was a strong young woman, yes, but she was vulnerable and trusting and he wanted nothing but the best for her. How could he DO such a thing to a student? He cursed himself.
"Casey," he began, his eyes shut in pain. "I'm very sorry. My behavior was unacceptable. I hope you know that that has never happened before with a student, and will never happen again." He struggled to keep his voice firm and mature.
Casey bit her lip and nodded. Paul gripped the arms of the chair and waited a few moments for her to speak, getting the strange sense that if he ran out of the theater without her permission, he'd feel as though he'd victimized her.
Taking a deep breath, Casey turned to him, her eyes glistening in the dark. "Why did it happen, Paul?"
Paul's grip on the seat slackened as he exhaled and threw his head back against the chair. In a moment of weakness and confusion, he mumbled in response, "Oh god Casey, please don't ask me that question."
In the naïve way of a teenager who still believes everything has a paramount meaning and forbidden relationships are romantic instead of illegal, Casey turned to him and laid a hand on his arm cautiously. "Paul, do you have … feelings for me?" she asked, not sure what answer she wanted.
Paul stared at her in disbelief, searching her face for some reaction of disgust or anger. He found nothing but a nervous curiosity and the feminine sympathy that he'd so sorely missed in Adele. His eyes softened and he opened his mouth to speak…
---
Derek waited, with a sharp intake of breath, still struggling with the reality he'd walked in on. Suddenly, the door of the theater flung open down the walkway from him, and in the sudden glaring light stood Emily. Shaking out of his numbness, he ran to her on instinct, shoving a hand over her mouth and practically carrying her out the door.
---
Paul and Casey jumped away from each other, and Paul sprang out of his seat. They heard the door close again, and then remained a minute longer in breathless silence. When no one came into the theater, Paul relaxed and permitted himself to once more look at Casey.
"Casey," he started seriously, but quietly. "You cannot ask me that question. The answer is completely irrelevant, because nothing can happen." He sighed. "Casey, you are a beautiful young woman, I want you know that you have done nothing wrong."
Casey smirked for a second, her eyes downcast. It reminded her of what her father said when he left them for the last time. He'd said those words, hugged her close, and promised that she would always be his "big little girl" and Lizzie was his "little little girl." She thought he'd meant it. But slowly, he stopped calling, stopped visiting, stopped sending cards – and then one day when Casey tried to reach him, she heard only a recording saying the phone had been disconnected. Her father was less successful than her mother - and in fact had been out of work for over a year by the time he left - and paid no child support, so there was no reason or recourse to his disappearance.
Though Casey liked George, he had never been a father figure to her, or even attempted to be so. She didn't know if he was uncomfortable around grown daughters, or had his hands full with Derek, but some of her felt a distant hurt that he too paid little attention to her.
She wasn't thinking about this all now, but as she looked up into Paul's face and the vague images of her father crossed into vague images of George and her chaotic family and the kids coughing insults about her at school and Derek's smirking face and Derek's smirking lips kissing Emily, she shot up out of her seat and threw her arms around him, on the verge of tears.
Paul was taken aback. "Casey," he started to protest.
"Paul.." she sobbed. Pulling back, tears in her eyes, she leaned up and pressed her lips against his for the second time. Paul hesitated only a minute, before burying his hands in her hair and responding to her mouth. They stayed that way until the lights came on and broke the spell.
---
"Derek, what are you doing?" Emily squealed when his hand finally released her mouth outside the theater doors.
"I'm sorry, Emily, I was just …," he struggled for an explanation, "trying to be romantic. You know, sweep you off your feet." He ended with a charming smile and put his hand around her waist. Emily turned her blushing face down and giggled.
"Oh, Derek," she said, playfully swatting his chest. He started to lead her out, throwing a glance back at the theater. "Oh, hey, did you find my gloves?" she said, searching his hands.
"Uh, no, some wise guy must've taken them. Or wise girl, y'know…"
Emily giggled again, and her snort was the last thing that echoed through the lobby of the cinema before he gently pushed her out the door. He knew that Emily would probably ramble on in the car the same way she'd rambled on their first trip out to the parking lot earlier. Even Derek wasn't able to tune Emily out completely, mostly due to the jumpy way she started each and every sentence, like she was shaking you out of one nightmare to start the next. He'd have to think about this Casey situation later, he thought, her gentle voice ringing in his ears, the curve of her face as she leaned into the guidance counselor burned behind his eyes.