A/N: No flashbacks in this installment. Sorry about the wait, but homework has been kicking my ass lately.

Disclaimer: I don't own LWD, it's not just one of my many toys.

OOOOOOOO

Even though she had pretty much the same reaction when she saw Casey standing on her front steps, Emily couldn't let her son get away with such outright disrespect—he had been brought up better than that.

"Tony," Emily said, sharply, "is that how we speak to guests?"

"No; it's how we speak to home wreckers."

Casey grimaced. She wasn't even sure if he was referring to Emily and Derek, or Emily and Sam.

Nate shot out of his seat. "Who are you calling a home wrecker?" he asked, threateningly, obviously daring Tony to answer.

Tony wasn't fazed. "I don't know, why don't you ask my father or, hell, even your father?"

"Don't blame my mother because your mom can't keep a man."

Both Casey and Emily sucked in a breath at that, Emily because of the insult, Casey out of embarrassment at her son's behavior.

"Nate," Casey said, voice stern and low, "that's enough."

Tony's hands were fists at his sides as he made his way over to Nathan. "Who should I blame then… that other slut who couldn't keep her legs closed?"

"Tony," Emily said, all ready to reprimand him, but nobody even heard her because at that moment Nathan let out a furious growl and launched himself at Tony.

They were on the ground wrestling, punching, hitting, each striving to gain the upper hand. Nate punched Tony in the face, and moved to stand, but Tony reached out and tripped him up, sending Nate crashing down into the coffee table. When the glass table smashed into pieces and the boys continue to grapple as if they hadn't noticed, it seemed to shake Emily and Casey out of their daze.

The mothers went over and tried to separate the fighting teenagers, but they couldn't get in between them long enough to do any good. When a fist barely missed catching her in the face, Emily backed away and bumped into her daughter.

Lauren was standing stock-still, bags still in hand, jaw practically on the floor, and eyes as big as saucers, as she watched the scene in front of her. She knew her brother was no saint, she'd seen Tony fight before, but not like this. She had always been aware of how angry he could get, sometimes he even scared her, but he was usually able to control himself. But there was no sign of that control now, and Lauren was afraid of just how far he might go.

"Lauren," Emily gave her a rough shake, bringing her daughter out of her thoughts. "Lauren, I need your help—get them to stop," she implored. "I know you can."

She eyeballed her mother skeptically.

"Don't give me that, I've seen you two together." Emily knew her children had a special bond—Tony may have been a mama's boy, but he doted on his sister. "At least try. Please," she said, frantically.

Lauren nodded; this really did have to stop. Sitting her bags down, she approached the fighting twosome.

"Tony," she said, trying to break through his haze of anger. "Tony, stop it now!" None of this was working—they just continued to pummel each other. Lowering herself to the floor, she attempted to pull them apart herself, and ended up falling onto her back for her efforts.

That stopped the fight rather quickly.

Pushing away from Nate, Tony stood up before bending down and helping his sister to her feet.

"Ren, are you okay?"

"No, you idiot," she punched him on the shoulder, "you pushed me down."

"What? Me?" he asked, surprised. "Jesus, Ren, you know I didn't mean to."

"I know," she suddenly started crying hysterically, "b-b-but th-th-that doesn't stop"—she broke off, and started balling even harder.

Emily was tempted to give her daughter the "thumbs up" sign, but she wasn't positive she was faking. So, instead, she took the opportunity presented to her, and smacked the back of her son's head.

"Look what you've done; your sister is… nevermind, just get upstairs."

"But mom?"

"Now!"

He headed up the stairs, his mother hot on his heels.

"Somebody's in trouble," Nate commented, in a singsong voice.

"Yeah, well, he's about to have company. Kitchen, now!" Casey yelled, pointing in the direction she assumed the kitchen was in.

"What?" Nathan was incredulous—'can't she see I was provoked?'

"Did I stutter?" she asked, heading for the kitchen. She didn't have to glance back to know he'd follow.

When she was alone in the living room, Lauren plopped down on the couch. Acting sure could take a lot out of a person.

OOOOOOOO

"You're going to apologize like you've never apologized before, you know that right?" Emily glared down at her son who was sitting on his bed. "I mean it, Anthony, apologize like your life depends on it, 'cause it just might."

"I'm sorry for breaking your coffee table. I really didn't mean—

Emily rolled her eyes. "Not for that, you dolt; I can buy another coffee table. You're going to apologize to Nathan for fighting him."

"But he threw the first punch," Tony responded, full of righteous indignation.

"You called his mother a 'slut,' you're lucky all he did was punch you." Who did he think he was kidding? They both knew that if the tables were turned, Tony would've been on Nate in seconds.

"Okay," he blew out an irritated breath, "so the 'slut' comment might have been a little out of line," he admitted, "but mom, sometimes you have to call a spade a spade."

"Well, until you're ready to say you're sorry," she narrowed her eyes, "you can just sit up here and think about what you've done."

"You're confining me to my room, seriously? Aren't I a little too old for that."

"Aww, honey," Emily bent down and pinched his cheek, "you're never too old to be punished by your mommy."

As she headed out the room, Emily ran a few different apologies through her own head. 'What does one say to the mother of the kid their son just beat down?'

OOOOOOOOO

While Emily was upstairs chastising Tony, Casey was in the kitchen delivering her own brand of justice to Nate.

"How many ways can you say you're sorry? 'Cause you're gonna have to pull out the big guns for this one," Casey said, as she paced the length of the kitchen.

"Mom, I'm sorry; I know I probably made things worse between you and Mrs. Shepherd—

"Oh, that's the least of my worries,"—it wasn't really, but he didn't need to know that. "I hope you have some money in the bank, because you're paying for that coffee table." She grimaced, thinking about how much it must've cost.

"Why?" He asked, standing, but one look from his mother had him sitting back down. "I would've never broken it, if he hadn't made me."

She threw her hands up in frustration. "You attacked him first. What was he supposed to do, stand there and get hit?"

"He called you a slut, what was I supposed to do?"

"One thing you don't do is beat up your hostess' son." Casey ran a hand through her hair. "My god, how am I supposed to face Emily after you so royally beat Tony down?"

"I am really, really sorry, mom," he said, voice ringing with sincerity. "I didn't come over here to fight."

"Humph, you sure have a funny way of showing it, slugger." She sighed, and straightened herself up. "Now, I'm going to the restroom, and when I go back into the living room I want to see you issuing an Oscar worthy apology."

"Whatever," Nathan muttered, but not until his mother was out of earshot.

He didn't want to apologize—he really didn't think he was at fault—but once he started imagining the type of punishment he would get from his father if he refused to express regret, he knew he was going to apologize. An angry Derek was a Derek he was loathed to see—it was never a pretty sight.

Grumbling and complaining, Nate made his way into the living room; he was slightly surprised to see the room empty save Lauren.

When she heard footsteps approaching, Lauren started sobbing again, but when she realized it was only Nate she immediately stopped crying.

"Oh, it's just you," she said, disdain clear in her voice.

He sat down on the couch beside her, and stared at her for a moment, examining her face.

"What?"

"Nothing," he shrugged, "it's just nice to see you're feeling better."

Rolling her eyes, she turned to face him directly. "Yeah, about that, you can say 'thank-you' anytime now."

"And why would I do that?"

"Maybe because if I hadn't distracted my brother by falling and saying he pushed me, which he didn't, you'd still be getting your ass kicked."

Nate smirked. He had known there was no way Tony could've pushed her, he had been too busy punching Nate.

"Thanks, but there was no need. I can handle your brother, and I can take care of myself," he assured her, as he put his hands behind his head and leaned back into the couch. "Oww, Oww, Oww," he moaned, shooting off the couch. As soon as his back was pressed against the sofa, it had felt like he was being impaled.

"What's wrong?" Lauren asked, hopping up.

"I feel like I'm being shanked in the back."

He was practically whimpering, and Lauren couldn't stop her eyes from rolling again. "Surprise, surprise—you were just rolling around in a big pile of glass, genius."

"Are you gonna stand there and mock me, or actually do something useful?"

"Can't I do both?" He gritted his teeth in pain, and Lauren began to feel a little bad. "Argh," she grumbled, "come here and let me see."

Nate walked the few steps to where she was standing, a frown marring his features. He really didn't want her help, but it wasn't like he could look at his back himself.

When he reached her, she lifted up his shirt without any preliminaries. Lauren immediately knew what he was talking about. If the rip in his shirt wasn't enough of an indication of where his injury was located then the piece of glass wedged into his back was. As much as she didn't like him, she couldn't help but wince—his back looked sore as hell.

Pulling his shirt back down, she said, briskly, "Take off your shirt and lay down on the couch."

"Look, baby, I know I'm attractive, but I'm not really up to that right now. Ask me later though," he joked.

"Why, you," she sputtered, huffily, "as if you could ever get me." Her voice was the height of snootiness, but she hadn't appreciated his joke at all. "Now I'm going to find a first aid kit, and if you don't want to walk around with a piece of glass lodged in your back, I'd suggest you get your ass on that couch!" Her voice had risen with every word.

"Chill, I'm going," he said, making his way over to the couch.

"That's more like it," she nodded, turning to go. At the last minute she turned back towards him and said, "Oh, one more thing, don't ever call me 'baby' again."

While he got situated on the couch, Nate had to shake his head at Lauren's insulted tone at the word 'baby'. Most girls he knew would give their eyeteeth to hear him call them that. His parent's past may have put Nate in an odd situation, but it didn't stop girls from wanting him. He was just that good looking.

Lauren was back within seconds. And as soon as she returned she got right down to business. Taking out a pair of tweezers, she wiped them with an alcohol swab, and began trying to remove the glass. It took a painful couple of minutes—during which Nate gritted his teeth—but she eventually got it all out.

"This is gonna sting a little bit," she warned, before dousing his wound with hydrogen peroxide. She may have been a little heavy handed, but she got a sick sort of pleasure out of watching him squirm.

After dressing the wound, she pronounced Nate "all better," and moved away so he could sit up…which turned out to be a big mistake. Because when she caught a good look at his shirtless body, her mouth went dry—annoying though he might be, the boy was ripped.

He smirked cockily when he noticed her staring. "Like what you see," he wiggled his eyebrows.

Lauren wanted the floor to open up and swallow her, she was so embarrassed, but she refused to let him see that. "I see you've inherited your father's vanity," she said without missing a beat.

"Just like you inherited your mother's craving for Venturi men," he countered.

"'Venturi men,' now that's an oxymoron if I've ever heard one."

The smile dropped from Nate's face. "You better take that back." His voice was menacing, but like her brother earlier, Lauren wasn't intimidated.

"Or what- you gonna jump on me like you did my brother?"

"Naw; what would be the punishment in that?" He gave her an appraising look. "You'd probably enjoy it."

Chances are she would enjoy it, but there was no way she was going to admit that. "Wanna bet?"

"Sure, why not?" He leaned forward and started to advance on her.

"What are you doing?" she asked, trying desperately to keep the nervousness out of her voice. She wasn't exactly sure how to handle a situation like that—she wasn't a novice where boys were concerned, but guys hardly ever approached her so forwardly out of fear and respect for her brother.

"Testing a theory," he answered, as he brought his lips closer to hers.

"Lauren!" "Nathan!" The mothers had shouted in unison, both surprised by what they were seeing. Emily had been coming down the stairs and Casey was approaching from the downstairs restroom—they had both finally pulled themselves together enough to feel up to rejoining their children—when they had witnessed their children about to make out, apparently.

The teens shot apart, realizing how precarious their positions were, and began attempting to explain.

"I was just helping him—

"She said I wasn't a man—

"And he started—

"I was messing—

Listening to the kids babble was starting to give Emily a headache. Quite frankly, she didn't want to know what they had been doing.

"Lose your shirt?" Casey asked, picking up the stray article of clothing and tossing it to her son. "Fighting, breaking tables, stripping, you've been having quite a night, huh Nathan?" She was torn between being angry and being amused.

That reminded him… "Mrs. Shepherd, I am really sorry about your table. I'm gonna pay for it, I swear." He may not have been happy, but he was sincere.

"That won't be necessary," Emily told him, and he raised an eyebrow questioningly. "It's not like you were fighting yourself."

"Sweet," he murmured. 'Maybe she's cooler than I gave her credit for.'

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," Tony said, voice disbelieving, from the top of the stairs.

"Just for that, you can come down here and clean up this mess," Emily told him, gesturing to the broken glass and moved furniture. She would've made him clean up the mess anyway, but at least this way he knew that she wasn't about to stand for him speaking to her like that.

"And since Mrs. Shepherd was nice enough to cancel your debt, you can help Tony out with the cleaning." Casey winked at Nate. "This will give you two a chance to talk," she said, meaningfully.

"That sounds great," Emily agreed, smiling at Casey. "Lauren you can supervise"—Lauren rubbed her hands together evilly—"I'm going to the kitchen for a drink, you comin' Case?"

Name shortening, of course Casey was coming. The two women took off for the kitchen.

As soon as they were in the kitchen Emily reached into a cabinet and got out a couple of shot glasses. Reaching into the freezer, she pulled out a bottle of gin and started pouring. They both took a shot to the head, and to their credit neither of them made a face or gagged.

"So…" Casey said, nervously.

"So, what?"

"I was thinking, it's still raining pretty hard, and it's real dark, and Nate's car is like something the Joads would drive"—she bit her lip—"so maybe, if it's not too much trouble, maybe we could stay the night." Emily looked at her as if she was crazy. "Come on… it'll be like a slumber party."

"Our boys just got into a rumble, I'm pretty sure your son was about to pounce on my daughter, and you and I are barely on friendly terms, but you want to have a slumber party?" It sounded even crazier to Emily when she said it aloud.

Casey nodded, serenely, like they were discussing the color yellow or something.

Emily rubbed her temples, miserably. It was storming, damnit! Inviting them to stay was just the right thing to do. 'Damn, damn, damn.'

Ignoring her shot glass, Emily brought the bottle to her lips and took a long gulp. "Okay, slumber party it is."

TBC…

Reviews Are Always Welcome!

A/N: I don't know how I feel about this, so let me know what you guys thought. If you have any questions let me know.