A/N: May I get on my soapbox for a minute?

OK, you're still with me? Good. I have to get on my soapbox about reviews. But first, I do need to thank all of the wonderful people that leave me feedback. I swear, if I didn't have this kind of encouragement, I wouldn't be as motivated as I am to write well. Oh, I'd still write, but knowing that there are literally hundreds of people waiting for an update makes me want to try to put a quality piece out there. So thanks!

But here's the thing about reviews: they are left by people that want to comment, right? Reviews are little gifts from the reader to the author, right? And not something that the author should demand, right?

I read a beautifully-written piece the other day, one that kept me up until 1:00am. Seriously, awesome piece of work, but at the beginning of almost every chapter was a plea for reviews. And then, at the end of one, the author completely berated people for not reviewing, basically stating that if (s)he didn't get more reviews, then (s)he was going to stop writing the story.

Call me crazy, but a writer writes. It doesn't matter if one person reads it or 1,000 people read it, a writer writes for the joy of writing. I just think it's crazy (and a little pretentious, to be honest) to sit there and demand that people evaluate your work. Isn't that the right of the reader? I'll tell you something, for my last chapter, less than 5% of the people that read it reviewed it. But, looking at the traffic, I had a ton of visitors to that chapter alone! And the number of hits? From the varying countries? I'm so thrilled. Also, whoever is from Monaco, your country fascinates me ... but that's a different story all together.

Maybe a super-long author's note at the beginning of a crappy chapter (sorry, been a little sleep-deprived and am having trouble writing coherently) isn't the forum for this, but (a) I really had to get this off my chest and (b) I'm curious to know how the inhabitants of the LwD fandom felt about this topic. Any thoughts?

And finally, thank you/merci/Danke/gracias/dhanyavaad/grazie/Dank U/obrigada/gum xia/terima kasih/dziekuje/salamat/Tanke/koszonom/spasibo/arigato/multumesc/blagodarya/si yuus maasi/shukran/faleminderit for reading! Did I get everyone?

*steps off soapbox*

Derek sat in the waiting room of the hospital, smiling at Casey's message. She loves me too! Why do I always feel so great when she says that? His grin grew wider.

"Derek?"

Derek flipped his phone shut and sprung up. "Yeah, Dad?"

"It looks like Nora's going to be a while, so you should go home and get some sleep. But go straight home and go straight to your own bed. No climbing in with Casey, you hear me?"

"Got it." Derek fished in his pocket for the car keys.

"Oh, and Derek?"

"Yeah, Dad?"

"We're not done with this conversation. Just so you know."

Derek sighed. "Got it, Dad."

He sped home in the darkness, maneuvering around snowdrifts that had started to form in the street during the night. It had started to snow gently while they were in the hospital, and the blustery wind was kicking up flurries of delicate snowflakes. There was no one on the road during the pre-dawn of Christmas Eve, and Derek had plenty of time to think.

He didn't want to think, though; there was too much going on in the McDonald-Venturi household. The baby was coming. He and Casey were in a shedload of trouble. Lizzie hated them. Marti still had no idea what was happening. I suppose we should fill her in, he mused.

When he arrived home, the house was still. Everyone was still asleep, and in the lightening gray, he could see the outline of presents already under the tree. Aww, Casey must have put them there after she wrapped them … silly girl, doesn't she know better by now?

With a mischievous grin, Derek went over to the pile and started to dig through the boxes. When he found the one to him from Casey, he mentally high-fived himself. Jackpot! He rotated the box, looking for a loose corner.

Nothing. Casey had double-taped everything with industrial-strength tape. Damnit, she knows me too well! Casey had sealed his present tighter than a royal decree from Queen Elizabeth herself.

"Aha! I knew you'd try to get in there!" Casey's voice drifted down the staircase.

Derek whipped around with a huge grin that melted off his face when he saw Casey. She had her hair piled on top of her head with soft ringlets framing her face, and she was wearing a pair of red satin tap pants with a loosely flowing camisole. And look at the rest of her … yow!

Derek watched her slink slowly down the stairs, unable to take his eyes off her lithe frame. It was in these moments that he found her the most irresistible; when she showed him a new side of herself. He wanted to drink in every moment that they had, especially because those moments were probably numbered.

"Derek," Casey breathed seductively.

"Y-y-y-yes?" he stuttered, feeling his blood rush throughout his body.

"Come to bed with me," she demanded breathily.

"I-I-I-I can't," he answered, still stuttering and letting his eyes roam the wide expanses of her exposed flesh.

"Why not?" Casey asked, taking a closer step still.

"Dad told me not to get into bed with you."

"And since when do you listen to him?"

Derek's voice was firm. "Casey. We're in a lot of trouble here. Nora's having a baby. This is not the time to try to mess with my dad. He'll kill me."

"Fine. Did he say anything about me getting into bed with you?" she purred.

"No …" Derek's mind was reeling. I know he didn't say that, but isn't it implied? And what the hell, Casey, you are being so … BAD. He shivered with expectation.

"Then let's go to your room," Casey breathed, finally entering Derek's personal space and tipping her face towards his.

"Casey … what the hell? Why now? With all the trouble we're in?"

"Don't be mad," Casey said, looking up at him coyly through her lashes, "but Marti told me what you said to her about me when we first met."

No! Marti …

"Marti," Derek growled, curling his hand into a fist.

"I was so touched by that, Derek, that, well, I wanted to show you how I've felt about you. Not quite as long as you, I don't think, but almost. And Mom and George are going to be gone for a while, so … you coming?" Casey tipped her head towards the stairs expectantly.

"Well … hell yeah I am! Woo hoo!" Derek grabbed Casey's hand and led her upstairs.

Derek stroked Casey's head, her hair splayed over his chest and gleaming in the bright morning light. The sun reflected off the light dusting of snow that had finally settled on the ground, and lit up the entire neighborhood. Mmm … Derek thought, I will never be able to get over this. Waking up next to Casey … it's my favorite part of the day. Hey, I wonder … Derek gently shook Casey awake.

"Case?" he whispered.

Casey lifted her head and groggily answered, "What?"

"What exactly did you write in that journal of yours?"

"Well ... what I always write. My innermost thoughts and feelings. And a little poetry."

Derek smiled. Of course she would write poetry. This is Casey. "OK, Casey, but what exactly? I mean, we haven't quite gone there yet, so what's there to write about?"

"Where's there, Derek?" Casey asked in a teasing voice, sitting up and shaking her head.

"You know where, Casey."

Casey laughed and slid closer to him. "Honey, if you can't say it, then we're never going there, as you so eloquently put it."

Derek glared at her. "Fine. Sex. We've never really had sex. So what exactly can you put in your journal?"

"Everything else. Derek, just because we haven't had vaginal sex doesn't mean we're not sexually active. Come on, didn't you pay attention in health class? Besides, do you need to have sex when I do this?" Casey leaned over and planted small, feather-light kisses in the crevice between his neck and his collarbone.

Derek shivered, struggling to maintain his composure. That feels SOOOO good … mmm … keep going … wait, no! Stop! This is a serious conversation … oh … OK, keep going … yeah, right there … mmm ….

Derek took a deep breath, then spoke: "Well … no. Not really. But isn't that beside the point? If we're not doing it, how can Dad and Nora be so mad?"

Casey shrugged, maintaining her pattern of light kisses down the length of his torso. "I guess it's because they don't want to think about their kids doing anything, especially because they're married," she mumbled. "Besides, I put in a few things that haven't happened yet."

Derek looked down at her in surprise. "What kinds of things?" he asked.

Casey turned a beguiling eye on him. "Oh, you know … stuff I wish would happen … like fantasies …" she said before resuming her southern trajectory.

Derek shook his head in amazement. Casey McDonald, you surprise me again. Oh, right there!

A/N: I don't think we covered this last chapter ... Marti ships Dasey, woo hoo! Will that turn the tide for our heroes? We'll find out soon!