An: Apologies for my less than prompt updates. My father-in-law died unexpectedly on Friday. As well as supporting my husband I also had to do all the commitments we made for the weekend on my own while he had to go and help his mom and her second husband organise everything. It's been a draining few days.

As I've said, this is the first part in a series of three stories. Some things will be resolved in this story but not everything.

Recap: Seven years ago Derek "died" in a shooting at a bank which has a devastating impact on his family, particularly Casey. After meeting a "friend" of Derek's and growing close to him, Casey has travelled to Ottawa for a vacation. There she discovers that Derek is still alive, that he was targeted because he witnessed a major crime and that he thinks his life is too dangerous for Casey to remain in it. Casey takes matters into her own hands, following him when he leaves her. She arrives at his "apartment" in time to stop him being abducted but her actions bring her to the attention of the bad guys.

After the events of last chapter, Casey is now a part of Derek's world - and he isn't happy about it!

"Where are we going?" Casey asked after they had been driving for a while. She knew so little of Ottawa that every street looked familiar. If she was relying on her sense of direction, however, she would have assumed that they were heading vaguely back towards the hotel.

"Somewhere safe." Derek replied, his eyes flitting between the road in front of him and the road behind him visible in his mirrors. The movement wasn't lost on Casey and it distracted her momentarily.

"Are you worried we're being followed?" Casey twisted her own head around even though she had no idea what they were looking for.

"Relax. There's no one there, but I'm making sure it stays that way before I head out of here and make for the safe house."

"Are you going to drop me back at the hotel?" Her voice was quiet because she dreaded the answer; back to the hotel would require another goodbye.

Derek glanced at her. "You don't get it, do you?" He was frustrated at her apparent desire to put herself in danger.

Casey looked irritated. "No, I don't get it, because you never explain anything. Just what exactly is eating you?"
"Casey, what you did back there was fucking stupid! You walked into the middle of an active case and pissed off one of the major players in a horrific homicide. I wasn't kidding when I said my job was dangerous and I needed to keep you out of it. I'm not your stupid hockey-playing step-brother anymore, honey. I'm a cop and I spend most of my days up to my chest in shit. I didn't want you out of the way because I don't want to be wi…around you. I wanted you out of the way for your own protection. Your actions mean I don't have a choice anymore. You're stuck with me now until I bring these guys down. It's the only way you'll be safe."
"But I don't understand why they would be interested in me."
"Sweetheart, you're too close to me. They could use you to get at me; to put pressure on me."
"Yeah…right. They obviously haven't seen the two of us together if they'd think it would make a difference to you." Casey sounded petulant but the reality was she was relieved that he wasn't ditching her…and a little nervous as his words – and the events of earlier – hit home.

Derek glanced at her again. "It would make a difference." He said softly and then caught himself in the act of being…affectionate? He coughed. "Which means that you aren't going anywhere without my say-so."

"So what? You're going to hold me prisoner now? Lock me up in your cellar and feed me a diet of mac 'n' cheese and potato chips till I weigh enough to belly bounce BBG?"

Derek laughed. "You know the idea has merit…"
Casey ignored the comment. "What about my stuff?"

"I'm going to take you to the safe house and then I'm going to go and check you out of your hotel."

"And pick up my car?"

"Your what?"

"My car. It's in the hotel parking lot."
"You drove here?"

Casey shrugged. "I needed the thinking time."

Derek sighed. "I guess I'll be getting a cab to the hotel then."

The "safe house" was not what Casey expected. She had watched her fair share of cop shows and "Law and Order". She had seen "safe houses" before. She predicted a small house, part of a row of dilapidated houses all with crumbling steps, peeling paintwork and inside dirty green walls stained with water, damp and other far worse things.

Because what Derek hadn't told her was that the place he was taking her to was the closest he had ever got to a real post-Venturi home.

It was still dark so all Casey could see of the building Derek had brought her to was it was short - as high-rise blocks went- and that security was evidently considered important by the architects; all the approaches were well lit with plenty of security cameras, and this time a beefy security guard who actually seemed good at his job. He nodded to Derek as they entered, holding hands.

"Evening Derek." He said and Casey jerked her head round and stared. Derek squeezed Casey's hand sharply in warning.

"Morning Frank!" Derek chuckled and leaned close to whisper to him. "This is Casey. She's going to be staying with me for a while, but I don't want anyone to know."

Frank raised an eyebrow. "Sure I can keep it on the LD. You'll need to sign her in as a regular though. Have I been over the procedure with you before?"
Derek shook his head. "Nah. This is a first."
Frank reached under his desk and produced the sign-in folder. Derek let go of Casey's hand and put down his holdall so that he could add her name to the approved persons list.

"She's not the ex-wife, I take it?" Frank asked.

Casey felt a chill go down her spine. What ex-wife?

Derek shivered. "Ew, no. Don't go there." He said, looking up from the form.
"She after you again?" Frank grinned.

Derek laughed. "What can I say? Alimony's a bitch and so is she." He reached for his bag and Casey's hand again, stroking her skin with his thumb in an effort to keep her calm so that she didn't blurt questions in front of curious ears.

"Tell me about it!"

"Yours giving you hell?" Derek maintained the conversation.

"Isn't she always?" Frank said, and when Derek started to lead Casey to the elevator, Frank added. "Nice to meet you Casey. Anything you want, just shout down."

Casey smiled weakly.

The door closed on the small compartment and the elevator began its ascent. Casey turned to say something to Derek but he surprised her, pulling her close and lowering his mouth to her neck.

"There's a camera in the elevator too and it has sound." He murmured against her skin. He placed a gentle, very obvious kiss behind her ear and Casey felt the colour rise in her face at his touch. "Wait till we get upstairs."

If the approach and outside of the apartment complex surprised Casey, Derek's actual apartment blew her mind away, (once he'd completed all his security checks and actually let her into it). It was modern but it wasn't rectangular, it was familiar and it was quirky. Nothing about it was predictable.

Sure, like many modern apartments, the flooring was real wood strips, a warm caramel colour throughout. And the open galley kitchen was pale beech with dark marble surfaces and strong statement bar stools at the breakfast bar. But the open plan living room was cosy; the balcony very wide and spacious. The two bedrooms, den and bathrooms branched off the centre of the apartment randomly, separated by lovely modern French doors and each room had a good view.

As far as Casey could see the only problem with the apartment was the lack of furnishings…and it could use a good clean.

"So have you moved in yet?" Casey asked wryly. Derek chuckled and shrugged.

"Believe it or not, this is my oldest and favourite apartment."
"How many apartments do you have?"

"That I own? One. That I rent…three."

"Three?"

"Yes. I own this one but, the other three…well one you've seen and the other two are last resort options."

"Meaning?"

"I'd rather spend the night on a park bench."

"Which one does your ex-wife live in?" She asked tersely.

"I don't have an ex-wife." Derek stated.

"Wife?"
"Casey…" Derek chuckled. "It's a cover story. I asked a lot of security questions when I took on this apartment. It made people suspicious, so I made up a rabid ex-wife to explain my need for privacy and security."

"So where do I fit into this? Am I supposed to be your mistress?" She felt her cheeks warm as she said the words, and was revisited by the thoughts of his actions in the elevator: his lips on her skin.

"Something like that." Derek confirmed. "Don't worry. There aren't any cameras in the apartment. Feel free to treat me like normal out from under prying eyes. Only leave the frying pan for the bad guys, okay?"

Casey advanced into the apartment and ran a critical eye over the space.

"It needs dusting." She pointed out.

He rolled his eyes but laughed all the same. There was something about Casey in his make-shift home that he liked. And it was a Casey he recognised from years ago. "Whirling Dervish" Casey.

"I'm never here." Derek pointed out.
"Haven't you heard of cleaning staff?"

Derek snorted. "Casey, this is a safe house. I don't trust anyone through the doors except me."
"And me."

"Yeah…well…I'm still deciding if this is a good idea."

"Moron."

"You're welcome."
They grinned at each other.

"So this is "home"?" She pondered. It didn't feel like home as such. The lack of furniture stopped that.

"As much as anywhere." Derek admitted.

"Not even a picture?" She queried.

"Of who? I'm a guy without a past!"

"Of whom, Derek."

He sighed. "Come on. I want to show you something." He took her hand and pulled her into the kitchen. Once there, he pushed at the side of a kitchen unit and it clicked like the tiles had in his previous apartment. The side opened like a door revealing another safe. Derek typed in a number.

"What's the combination?"
"You want the truth or the lies?" He asked with a grin.

"The truth, asshole."
"Your birthday." Derek said. "I figured it was the last number anyone would expect me to have."

"Huh! Like you even remember my birthday!"

"I remember your birthday. I may have pretended otherwise because it made Nora and Lizzie happy to remind me but…"
Casey groaned. "Nothing is ever straight forward with you, is it?"

"I try not to be predictable."
"Your unpredictability is predictable, Derek."
"Your disdain at my predictable unpredictability is predictable."

"'Disdain'? Since when did you know big words like that?"

"Honey, I have a vastly extended vocabulary these days…mainly because you enjoyed ramming big words down my throat."

"Glad I could help." She said wryly.

Derek smirked and reaching into the safe pulled out a leather picture frame of the sort which folds out with space for three pictures.

"When Spike had finished breaking the bad news to me about my life, he gave me a bag full of stuff that his guys had "liberated" from my bedroom at home. There were things like my passport, a few clothing items and a copy of my hard drive. Most of the stuff I just held on to because I didn't know what to do with it, but the hard drive meant I had pictures of all of you. I printed out a couple of shots." He passed the picture frame to Casey who opened the little folder.

Inside as expected were three photographs: A whole family one from Robbie's first birthday, with Casey and Derek smiling broadly even though out of sight they both knew he was pulling her hair and she was standing on his foot. There was a friends' photo with Sam and Ralph, Emily and Casey all piled onto a couch together during a "film night" between college vacations. And finally there was a picture of Casey holding a baby Robbie with Marti looking on.

"I've moved around a lot." Derek said. "But these always come with me."

Casey wondered how he had coped with the loneliness.

"I'll be back as soon as I can." Derek said a while later. He had showered and changed his clothes for some of the ones in the closet in the bedroom even though it was four am in the morning. Casey tried to feel reassured when she saw him clip the gun back into his holster.

"You'll be careful?" She asked.

"Anyone would think you cared." Derek commented. She threw him a dirty look.

"I'll be fine." Derek relented. "Stop worrying. I'll walk a couple of blocks uptown, catch a cab. Then I'll go to your hotel room and pack. I'll do the automatic checkout thing, take the elevator down to the basement, pick up your car and drive home."

"What if someone is waiting for you?"
"How would they be? They would have to know of our previous relationship. You haven't been on the scene long enough this time."

They both ignored the irony of his words.

"But…"

"Casey. Chill. Stay here. Wait for me. I'll be home soon." Derek put a hand on her arm.

"What do I do if there's a problem?" She asked practically and there was an uneasy edge to her voice.

Derek sighed and almost said something derogatory but at the last minute realised he probably should answer her question. He went back to the safe and withdrew a small gun. It was low calibre and the chance of it doing much damage was slight. He held it out to her and then when she almost took it from him he pulled the gun back into his chest.

"Whoa! One sec. This is a last resort, Casey. It's not something to blast at errant step-brothers when they let themselves into their own apartment. Check who you are aiming it at before you pull the trigger. If someone else does come, shoot first ask questions later and then run like hell. You remember the details of that guy I mentioned?"

"Manning?" Casey said, accepting the weapon gingerly.

"Yeah. Get out and get to him." Derek straightened and bent to press a kiss against her cheek. "I will be back though so don't panic. I know you can't bear the thought of being parted from me…"

"Yeah, right Mr Ego. You keep telling yourself that."

Derek smirked. "You're the one clinging to me as I try to go out the door." They both looked down to his sleeve which Casey was grasping tightly in a fist. She let go hastily and Derek smiled.

"Relax princess. I got it under control."

By now they had reached the door and Derek had opened it.

"Be careful." Casey said, one last time.

"And you." Derek said, kissing her forehead again which made Casey close her eyes. "See you soon." He murmured.

And yet again, he was gone.

Casey paced nervously for the first half an hour and then she berated herself and decided to do something practical. She took herself off to the kitchen and opened the cupboard under the sink. It was fairly empty but she did find sponges, washing up liquid, dusters and polish. They looked untouched and she rolled her eyes at Derek's apparent slovenliness.

"Might as well make myself useful." She announced to herself, and turned toward the open plan living room to make a start.

To be honest there wasn't a lot to dust since there was little in the way of furniture. In the living room there was a mantel over a fireplace, some shelves in the alcoves, and a variety of glass door panels and windows. The floor needed a polish but she decided that she would wait until they were in the vicinity of a grocery store to buy a proper soft mop.

In the Master bedroom, there was more in the way of furniture: closet, tables beside the enormous bed and chest of drawers against one of the walls. The bed looked dishevelled as though its occupant had left in a hurry, which was actually true. (The last time Derek had stayed there he had indeed been called into work on the spur of the moment.) Casey shook her head and started searching cupboards again, eventually finding the spare set of bed linen. She immediately pulled the sheets from the bed and began to remake it.

Casey dusted, polished, swept and changed towels as well as bedlinen. She wiped down kitchen surfaces, ran the washing machine and then tentatively opened the oven for inspection. As it was spotless she decided that it had never been used, but the microwave, however, needed attention.

"That figures. He probably lives on TV dinners." She commented to herself, again making a mental note to go with Derek when it came to grocery shopping.

Eventually at nearly six am, she had removed the last remaining speck of dirt and dust.

The place looked immaculate.

Casey was worn out…

…And Derek still wasn't home.

Biting her bottom lip and fingering the small gun nervously, Casey sat on Derek's bed and tried not to panic.

Derek left Casey rather reluctantly. He was fairly sure that she was safe in his apartment but he was still nervous while she was out of his sight. Casey McDonald had a singular knack of getting into trouble with the least amount of effort and as the cab took him towards Casey's hotel, he thought back to some of the scrapes Casey had been in – the majority had required him to bail her out. Despite his frustration, he smiled.

It was 4.20am when he arrived at Casey's hotel. The main entrance was closed, but there was a side entrance with a key slot where hotel residents could let themselves in using their own room keys. Derek appreciated this because it saved awkward questions from the hotel staff. He let himself in and took the elevator to Casey's floor.

As he stepped out of the elevator, he was slightly cautious. It really would have to be a major co-incidence for anyone to make the connection between him and Casey after just two hours. He didn't relax though. Relaxing on neutral territory like this would be a mistake because co-incidences do happen. He walked the short distance down the thickly carpeted corridor and arrived at Casey's room.

If this had been Derek's room, he would have done the old "hair on the door frame trick" before he had left earlier. Derek didn't hold with James Bond techniques but sometimes, if he was in the mood, he would try things like slipping paper between the door and its frame. Of course five times out of ten the paper fell by force of gravity alone, and he was unnecessarily spooked. So it was more in the nature of a game, because Derek had just got used to entering any unfamiliar territory cautiously. Then he was never disappointed.

What he was sure of as soon as he opened the door was Casey's room hadn't been touched since she left.

That she had left in a hurry was obvious. The bedclothes were thrown back in such an

untidy way he wondered if she was currently fretting about the impression she had left behind. Casey could be such a perfectionist, he reminded himself, affectionately. Derek pulled the sheets straight and passed an ironing hand across them so that the bed looked more presentable – and then he laughed at himself.

Once the bed was straight, Derek found her suitcase and placed it on the comforter. He moved to the closet and started removing clothes from hangers. He was careful as he lightly folded her skirts and tops in to the case, but he was also quick. Soon the closet was empty and he turned his attention to the chest of drawers. Jeans and t-shirts were easy to pack; Casey's lacy bras and panties less so. Derek's eyes widened at some of the items his "sibling" considered as underclothing. They were vastly different from the delicate cotton and lace smalls that Nora had encouraged and which Derek had occasionally glimpsed in the laundry as teenagers. These all lace objects were provocative to the right eyes which Derek convinced himself he was not.

He resorted to just scooping up the pile of lace and dumping it in the suitcase, but when he turned to the drawer to check for further contents, he froze.

Lying in the bottom of the drawer was a picture frame, small, delicate and silver and when he turned it over to see the picture, his heart nearly stopped.

Nearly nine years ago when they took off for college, Nora and George had insisted that Derek and Casey had some pictures taken to be framed and displayed in the living room at home. They had spent an hour in a portrait studio with their parents (Robbie in arms) on the side lines supervising – or rather refereeing.

The result had been a collection of rather forced pictures of two people who wouldn't choose to spend time together, being required to spend time together.

When Nora and George had been forced to leave because Robbie was playing up, Casey and Derek had been left to their own devices and this picture had been taken. Derek remembered the picture as he remembered the short quiet conversation before hand; where Casey told him she was scared to grow up and Derek had told her to quit being a girl because it wasn't only about her, there were two college kids in the family and she shouldn't forget it. Casey had started to grow indignant at his comment until she had looked into his eyes, and that infuriating Venturi charm had won the day – again.

He meant they would do the college thing together.

In the picture, Derek was calm, composed, and confident. He sat like a king on his throne with Casey below him. She sat at his feet like a child and her head was turned towards him questioningly while he grinned down at her. It could have been seen as Derek dominant, and Casey weak. But his hands rested on her shoulders, his fingers linked with hers and when the photographer had given them a preview of it on his laptop, Derek had paid the guy not to show their parents…because the picture said only one thing…love.

Derek had assumed the guy had destroyed the picture (after taking the copy for Derek that still rested in his safe.) Evidently, money had changed hands between him and Casey too. Derek admired the enterprising bastard!

He picked up the picture carefully and placed it on top of the pile of lace in Casey's suitcase, and then checked the remaining drawers. Finally, when he was sure he had cleared the bedroom of paperbacks, night clocks, contraceptive pill (!), purse and shoes he made his way into the bathroom and collected her toiletries.

At last, everything was once again contained within her single suitcase, its matching vanity case and medical bag, as well as Casey's purse. To avoid looking like he was stealing, Derek placed the purse inside the suitcase, but not before he retrieved the set of keys for Casey's car.

Derek checked his pocket for the piece of paper on which Casey had jotted her car registration and after scanning the rest of the room for anything he had missed, he grabbed the various bags and made his way to the door.

Checking out had been easy. He had used the television-based automatic check out.

Within minutes, Derek was riding down in the elevator to the basement garage carrying Casey's bags. He relaxed slightly sensing that he was on the homeward stretch.

The garage was pretty standard. A large open plan space made of concrete, well lit in some places, badly lit in others. Typically, Casey's car was in a badly lit area, but Derek couldn't blame her for that since the car had been parked by a valet. The space was at about half capacity but he still found it easy to find the car. It was a typical safe mid-range car and she had chosen a shade of blue that he was sure she had worn on her eyelids as a teenager. Derek popped the trunk as he walked towards the vehicle and when he reached the appropriate end, he slung the bags into the trunk and shut it down.

"Going somewhere?" A voice asked from the shadows.