DISCLAIMER: Still don't own it.

A/N: For those of you who don't have to type out stories on their phones, for lack of keyboards, let me tell you, it is hard. Editing it is even more of a pain.

For Oopsy Dasey, and the lovely tin-a-holic (may you all be as blessed to have someone like that in your lives).

Casey starts to make a name for herself Sophmore year by nothing more than making dinner for herself and Derek one evening during a study break, down in the dorm kitchenette. The smell of the casserole is admittedly mouthwatering and draws no less than a dozen other students wanting to locate the source.

One guy even has the nerve to ask for some with a freaking plate and fork in his hands.

Derek gives the boy a dark look as he heaps seconds on his own plate. "No," he answers before Casey can even open her mouth. "I'm taking the leftovers."

She whips her head around at his response to stare at him in indignation. "Der-ek!" Casey hisses in admonishment. "We can share." She turns back to the interloper. "Yes, you may have some," she assures him in a sweet tone, pulling the dish away from Derek.

Derek's glare doesn't lessen as the idiot gives Casey a goofy smile as he ambles over with a shy "Thanks," and never even looking in Derek's direction.

Weeks later

Casey is part of a cooking club that apparently got started when her dormmates fall into discussion about Casey's meal.

Derek hopes this news never makes it back to the Gaels. The way some of the guys eat is insane and there is no way they wouldn't beg food from her. Actually, he's pretty sure they'd beg a whole lot more from her if he'd let them. Just about the whole team is made up of horndogs that surpass even Derek. Several of them seem to be determined to turn themselves into community bicycles. But he's kinda been known as an asshole to the team about Casey after she showed up to some of the games and the guys have mostly gotten the point. Doesn't mean they don't mess with her in full view of Derek, though, just to get his goat.

But the cooking thing is different.

As far as he knows, Casey has never made a meal for another person beyond him in the time they've been at school. He'd rather it stay that way, for purely selfish reasons. Her cooking was the one thing she never shared with anyone else besides Derek, at Queen's. Since both their time and attention are given to other things like classes and clubs and they don't even live in the same building at school, that made it the only thing he got to have of her along with her undivided attention.

Of course, now that's gone too, because Casey gets together once a week with a handful of other students who get to sample each other's work. They host small dinner parties every fortnight and according to some of the talk around campus, invites are usually extended to friends of the club members.

Great.

Beyond being just pissed off about more of Derek's carefully carved out Casey-time dedicated to something that isn't actually him, he's actually a little hurt that he hasn't garnered an invite, yet (not that he'd ever admit that in like, a million years). Seriously. Casey knows how much he likes to eat-how much he needs to, being on a team that requires a lot of calorie intake-and it's not like it's even a secret how much he does actually enjoy her brand of cooking. It should be only natural for her to show off her skills to him when he's in a receptive mood, right?

Wrong.

Casey does not invite Derek to these little get-togethers. Instead she brings her roommate, two of her friends from her Chick-Lit class and some guy Derek is pretty sure sits on the Student Counsel.

Normally at this point, Derek would either pester her until she offered to bring him, swing an invite from another member of the club, or simply crash the party. But one little comment from Casey kinda puts that idea on hold.

"I don't think you'd even like it, Der," she says absently, flipping through a cooking magazine on one of their studybreaks. "It's not just about sitting down and stuffing your face with food that other people laboured over."

"Isn't that exactly what a dinner party is?" he scoffs. "Just with, like, some hoity-toity wine and, you know, 'sparkling conversation'?" he adds with air quotes.

Casey rolls her eyes. "The point of the sit-downs is to sample the end results, and compare them to the original recipie. To discuss what went right and what went wrong and the methods used and how one dish complements the others. It's to take time to actually taste what you're putting in your mouth without using the salt and pepper and ketchup to cover the flavour." She looks pointedly at him as she says that last part. "And sometimes the end result doesn't even taste good."

She goes on about about themes and whatnot for another few minutes but Derek's already tuned her out, because he's already gotten the point.

Casey thinks her cooking club is deep and meaningful and Derek is even too shallower than a cookie tray to properly enjoy it. And underneath even all that, and more to the point: she doesn't want him there.

That stings more than it should. More than it did two years ago when they started Uni. They've grown more relaxed around each other; a bit closer. To actively have Casey push him away now makes him feel a little sick, like indigestion.

To make matters worse, Casey's next guest is a Gael...

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