Sorry again. Still haven't quite gotten the new schedule down. I'll keep trying though.

CHAPTER 38

That Thing You Do

Chris shook his head as he watched Casey sort the Skittles she'd bought at the grocery store. After both of them buying supplies to make a couple of amazing dinners, she'd gone and spent her last dollar on a bag of candy. Then, she'd promptly started picking out the colors and putting them in coordinating piles, every now and then popping one of the candies into her mouth. It took all of Chris' will power not to shake his head at her.

"What?" she asked, noticing him staring as she put an orange colored Skittle into her mouth.

"What are you doing?"

"Eating."

"No. You're organizing."

She looked down at the different colored piles in her hand before shrugging. "They have to be even."

"And people say I'm neurotic."

Chris finally couldn't help himself, shaking his head as he pulled up to curb outside the Manor. Putting the truck into park, he turned off the engine and shot another look at his friend. "You know, you really shouldn't be eating that stuff."

She tossed a purple one into her mouth. "Oh?"

"It's not healthy. You didn't have lunch today since you were hiding in the bathroom. Now, instead of having a decent snack, you're having sugar."

"And?"

"It's not good for the baby."

Casey almost choked on her Skittle. "Excuse me?"

"I started reading on Medical boards online about child development. The first months are crucial. Everything is starting to develop, and if you want the kid to be healthy, the mother should have plenty of rest, light work-outs, and healthy foods like fruits, vegetables, and protein. Not junk food."

"Are you kidding me? Chris, I'm not even a full week along. The kid isn't even a kid yet. It's a fertilized egg."

"But, you need to start thinking about these things now."

Just to push his buttons, she ate another piece of candy.

"Case, I mean it."

Another.

"Stop that."

"Hmm...maybe, I should wash this down with a nice glass of wine."

"You're joking right?"

"Or drink about three glasses of coffee while taking a couple of aspirin."

"You're mocking me."

She pushed open the door. Just before exiting, the female witch paused, pretending to ponder. "Huh. I wonder what would happen if I started smoking? This could turn into a real science experiment."

"So not funny."

She grinned while grabbing the groceries from the floor with one hand. Bags in hand, she hopped out of the car, kicked shut the open car door and headed toward the Manor. Every now and again, she moved her hand to her lips to suck another Skittle into her mouth.

Chris hurriedly opened his door, jumped down, slammed shut the door and chased after her, taking the four bags from her hand before she could stop him.

The young woman glared at him. "What are you doing?"

"Carrying the groceries."

"They're not heavy."

"Don't care."

"You're going to be completely unreasonable about all this aren't you?"

Chris pretended not to hear her as they reached the doors. He held one open for her, waiting until she was in the entrance before he followed her in and closed the door behind himself. Once he did so, he was greeted by an angry glare, a tapping foot and hands on hips. He let out a breath. "Humor me for a bit, will you?"

"How long is your control freak nature going to demand you treat me like an invalid?"

"I'm not a control freak."

She raised a brow.

"I'm not," he defended, moving toward the kitchen to put their purchases away.

As he started unloading the groceries and putting the items into their proper places, he saw from the corner of his eye his friend had pursued him into the kitchen and was still shooting him a look of pure skepticism.

He ignored her.

"Chris, you are the biggest control freak I know. You just can't deal when things are out of your power or not done just the way you want them to be done. But, and this is a big but, I am not going to put up with you treating me like I'm some damsel in distress or an ignorant moron."

Shutting the fridge, he shot back, "A. You couldn't pull off damsel in distress even if you tried. B. I would never treat you like a moron."

"The candy comment? That wasn't condescending?"

"No. It was just a suggestion."

She scoffed. "Right. Like you do suggestions. You told me I shouldn't eat that stuff, and you used the patented Chris Halliwell tone of patronization. Not to mention the deal with the groceries."

"You shouldn't be carrying all these."

"So I couldn't carry any?"

Chris rolled his eyes in frustration. "Why do you have to make such a big deal out of this?"

"Gosh, gee, I don't know. Maybe because it ticks me off, and I don't want to have to kill you later on once you've driven me completely crazy through months and months of you treating me like glass."

"Okay, but here's the thing," the young man countered, "you are the most stubborn woman I have ever met, which says a hell of a lot considering who my mother and aunts are, so I know if I don't start hammering this stuff into you now, you'll never let me help you later on."

"What makes you think I'll need your help later on?"

Chris folded his arms over his chest. "You think you can do everything, and under normal circumstances you probably could, but these aren't normal circumstances. You're pregnant now, which means you're not just responsible for you. So, you have to be more careful than normal, which includes all the stuff I mentioned in the truck– taking it easy and eating right. Both of which you suck at."

"I can take things easy."

It was his turn to look dubious.

"Fine. Maybe– just maybe– I do take on too much sometimes, but if I'm conceding this point, you need to give me one: You are a control freak. So, when I tell you to back off, you need to listen. Got it?"

Chris put the last of the groceries away. When it was in the cupboard where it belonged, he turned to face Casey again and saw without a shadow of a doubt how serious she was being. He let out a breath. "Fine. I'm a control freak. Is that really so bad?"

"Not normally. But, if I have to deal with all the other pregnancy stuff, I don't want lectures every day on what I'm doing wrong. Bueno?"

The corner of the young man's mouth turned up slightly as he slid his hands into his pants pockets. "Yeah. Ok. I'm not promising I won't still say things sometimes. Not sure I can help it. But, if you tell me to shut up, I will at least try."

"Good. You do that, and I will try to be more careful about everything."

"So, can I get you some carrots to munch on? An apple perhaps?"

Casey rolled her eyes. "Pass. At least let me enjoy my junk food for one more week."

"One more?"

"One. Though, if you want to take these yellow ones off my hand, it would be less sugar intake..." She held out the hand with the remaining Skittles.

Chris frowned. "Why just the yellow?"

"I don't like them."

"They taste the same."

"Nu-uh. Your palate must be awful if you can't tell the difference between Skittle flavors."

Chris rolled his eyes. "I'm a Sous Chef, Case. My palate is perfect. It's just coloring. Skittles all taste the same."

"Who's the Pastry Chef and an apprentice Chocolatier here?"

"You..."

"So, which of us would know more about confectionary?"

"You don't make Skittles."

"Answer the question, Corazoncito."

The corner of the young man's mouth quirked up in amusement. "Pet names will not win this argument, Princesa. See, I can do it too."

Wyatt sauntered into the kitchen, a curious look showing on his brow as he spotted his brother and girlfriend seemingly at odds, yet both wearing equally amused expressions. Only these two could have fun while arguing.

"Hey you," Casey greeted. "How were classes?"

"Good. . ." He spotted the candy still in her hand. "Are those all yellow? Can I have one?"

"You like yellow ones?"

"They're my favorite."

Chris remarked, "Taste. The. Same."

"Have them all."

"Aw, thanks." Wyatt took the proffered yellow candies, throwing a number of them into his mouth at once. He then turned to his sibling, mouth still full and questioned, "What do you mean they taste the same?"

"Never mind," Chris mumbled, spotting the triumphant smirk on his friend's face.

"I love how you like the ones I don't," Casey commented happily.

"Guess, we do fit well," Wyatt replied after swallowing the Skittles.

"Mhmm," she cheerfully agreed, wrapping her arm around his neck, bringing the tall young man down to her level to land a solid kiss on his eagerly awaiting lips.

Chris pulled a face, turning his head away. "So don't want to see this."

Once the kiss ended, the Twice Blessed turned to his sibling. "Tough."

"Yeah, Chris, you're going to have to get used to it," Casey agreed.

"It's weird," the brunet boy defended.

"I disagree," the older brother replied. "I think it's great."

Casey smiled softly, her face completely glowing as she looked up at Wyatt. "Me too."

Their words didn't alleviate the awkward feeling Chris was suffering from. He'd known right away the relationship between the other two would be uncomfortable for him for a number of reasons. It was his big brother and the first girl he himself had ever been with. It was his big brother and his best friend. It was Wyatt and Casey. And it bugged him. And deep, deep down where he refused to acknowledge it– seeing them together made him a little jealous.

For as long as he could remember, Casey had been his. His friend. His lover. His person. Now? Now, she was Wyatt's and if there was one thing Chris had always hated it was playing second fiddle to his older brother, and if their relationship progressed, which instinctively Chris knew it would, Wyatt would become the important man in Casey's life.

"Hey? Anybody home?"

Chris shook his head at the louder voice, pulling himself from his thoughts. His sibling was grinning at him in a knowing manner, which only served to annoy the younger witchlighter. "What?"

"You were spacing," Casey answered, thankfully oblivious to the reason why.

Wyatt, on the other hand, knew exactly what had caused it. With a double meaning he asked, "You okay?"

"Fine."

The Twice Blessed pursed his lips in concern, tilting his head to the side. It was the Wyatt Halliwell signature gesture of I'm-not-buying-it. The next phase normally following the older teen's look would be another more direct question, but just as the blond opened his mouth to confront Chris about their situation, he was distracted by Molly's voice floating down the stairs.

"Your paper really is a mess. Don't you know how to use a comma?"

The owner of the voice appeared in the doorway to the kitchen a moment later, her ringlets bouncing to a stop as she spotted the two new arrivals. As soon as her hazel eyes landed on the other woman, Molly tensed, her gaze locked on Casey.

"Thanks again for looking it over for me," Wyatt awkwardly started. "I know my grammar stinks."

Molly didn't answer. Her jaw just tightened as her gaze began to burn hotter.

"Molly," Casey tried nervously, "It's really good to see you again. . ."

"Right. I'm sure," the other woman tersely answered.

The smaller woman flinched, her eyes dropping to the floor as her cheeks flushed.

Wyatt shot a worried look to his brother, who's face was already marred with anxiety. "So, Chris, I still owe you and Molly that dinner. . .from New Year's Eve, remember?"

"New Year's Eve," Molly repeated with a short laugh. She flicked her eyes over to Chris for a moment. "What I wouldn't give to go back to when my biggest problem was note in your back pocket."

Her boyfriend found he couldn't hold her gaze. As his jade eyes shifted to the side, his hands found refuge in his pockets. He would have said something, but his throat suddenly constricted, his tongue too swollen to form words.

"I'm sorry," the latina softly offered, her voice quivering. "I don't expect you to believe me, but I never meant for any of this to happen."

The whitelighter's focus snapped back to the other woman. Steel was more giving than the look found in her eyes. "You're right. I don't believe you. How can I? From day one, you've been after Chris, and the moment I was gone, you managed to manipulate the situation to seduce him. You are a game playing, manipulative sl– "

"– Molly, stop," Chris cut in.

"I'm sorry, Chris, but I refuse to play nicey-nice with the woman who got you into bed on the day of my funeral."

Trying to ease the mood, Wyatt joked, "Now, that's not something just anyone could say."

"Ay Dios mio."

"She didn't seduce me," Chris argued. "If anyone did any seducing, it was me."

"Well, that's just perfect isn't it? Just what a girl wants to hear from her boyfriend."

Realizing no one was paying attention to him, Wyatt mumbled, "Okay then. . ."

"I'm sorry, Molly, but it's the truth. The situation is what it is, and we all just have to deal with it."

"So, what? I'm supposed to make friends with this schemer? She plays some helpless victim, and you and Wyatt both fall right into the roles of her protectors. I'm sorry if I can't stand seeing her playing games with both of your lives."

Before either Wyatt or Chris could answer, Casey cut in. "Victim? Did you really just call me a victim? And playing games? What exactly is a game about all this? My father is dead. Yeah, that sure was fun going into the morgue and seeing his body ripped into several unidentifiable pieces. The nightmares I have about it are just hilarious. My mom has disowned me, and basically calls me a freak to my face. What girl isn't going to love that? Oh, and now, I've ruined my own life along with my best friend's because one night I was too sad and too stupid to do what was right. I'm having a baby at seventeen. I'm going to have a tiny little person to care for when I can't even manage my own life. My dreams for the future are pretty much toast, and I discovered too late who I'm really in love with, so now, I've managed to break Wyatt's heart too. Good times. Really."

Wyatt took his girlfriend's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, softly soothing, "It's okay, Casey."

"See what I mean," Molly countered. "You use it to manipulate people's emotions. You used it to get these boys to fall all over you. Wyatt, I know you love her, but you could do so much better."

For the first time, the blond witch's eyes flashed dangerously in Molly's direction. "Don't go there. You have a right to be angry and hurt, but don't cross that line."

"Call me a bitch," Casey went on, her ire raised, "a slut, a whore, a tramp, anything else but do not call me a victim. Don't you dare accuse me of using my own father's death in such a disgusting manner. You don't know me. You have no clue who I am or where I come from. These two boys are my family. I'm not going to give them up just because you're pissed off and in pain. I won't hold it against you if you shriek and call me names because I deserve it, but I'm not going anywhere. You're just going to have to get over yourself and your jealousy and maybe– oh, I don't know– start supporting the man you supposedly love during the most difficult time of his life."

"Which he wouldn't be going through if not for you," Molly shot back.

As the two girls' argument began to escalate, Wyatt turned to Chris. The brothers exchanged looks before each took the shoulders of their own prospective girlfriends, pulling them further away from each other.

Casey shook off Wyatt. "Let me go."

Molly settled down at the feel of Chris' hands on her shoulders, firm and warm. The fire in her dimmed, her mind clearing from its inebriated fury.

The brunette witch looked to Molly one last time, her eyes glistening. "I didn't think you could say anything to me to make me feel worse about this than I already did, but I was wrong."

With that said, the pregnant woman nearly ran from the room, her footsteps pounding on the stairs as she made her way up to Wyatt's room. The door slamming shut could be heard clearly from the kitchen.

Wyatt shared a concerned gaze with Chris before letting out a long breath. The blue eyes then turned to Molly's hazel. His voice was calm, almost resigned as he said, "You shouldn't have said those things."

"I know," she softly replied.

The Twice Blessed nodded, hooking his thumbs into his pants pockets. "I'm going to go check on her."

"Wyatt," Chris stopped the other teen, "make sure she eats some real food for dinner tonight. Please."

"Sure."

The blond turned and left the kitchen, his steps falling on the stairs was softer and slower than Casey's had been. Once he reached the top landing, neither Chris nor Molly heard his movements anymore.

After Wyatt had gone, Molly turned to face her boyfriend, knowing before she looked into his face how displeased he was going to be with her. Her hazel eyes reluctantly lifted up to his green where dark storm clouds were brewing.

"That?" Chris started. "So not cool."

"I know," she quietly moaned. "I know. And it's not like me. I don't intentionally hurt people. Not even people I don't like. It's just when I saw her, all the bad images came into my head at once, and I couldn't seem to get a grip on myself. I have never felt so angry in my life. I just wanted to hurt her, and then the words came flying out of my mouth before I even realized what I was saying. I hate her. I really really hate her, and I've never hated anyone before, and I don't know how to stop."

"Well, you better figure it out and fast," Chris warned. "Because this can't keep happening."

Molly let out a breath nodding. "I know."

"Do you? I mean, do you really get how important it is for you to at least be civil to her?"

"She's still your friend."

"She's more than that, Molly," Chris corrected. "She's carrying my baby."

The young woman winced, swallowing down the wave of hurt and desire to cry.

"I'm not saying it to hurt you. I know it does, and for that I'm sorry. I can't change it, though. Can't even say I would if I could because I've seen my son now, and I would never wish him away."

Molly smiled softly. "That's a good thing, Chris."

"I think so too, which is why I have to put him and his needs before everything and everyone else." The witchlighter let out a breath, folding his arms over his chest as he regarded his girlfriend. "I love you completely. You know that. It's just. . .if you can't find a way to get along with Case. . .if you make me chose between you two. . .I will choose her."

That's when Marshal, mid-shimmer, crashed onto the kitchen table, bloody and broken.

tbc. . .

If anyone is interested in knowing the actors/actresses I have in mind for the original characters let me know and I'll tell you.