When she does come in next, it's about three weeks after their first encounter. Derek recognizes the burly half-orc first—he barely fits through the door, needing to slide in sideways—recognizes the rest of the group as they tumble in after him. As much as he hates to admit it, Derek watches for her.

It's only because he wants to tell her that this inn is his. It was built with his blood and sweat (and tears, but she doesn't really need to know that part).

And maybe because it's also because Derek wants her to snark at him again. He can't explain—doesn't really understand—the pleasure he got from the attitude she'd given him.

The door closes behind the group, and still, she's nowhere to be found. The sandy-haired halfling comes to the bar with the group's order this time. They exchange the usual pleasantries; he's friendly, and it's a nice enough exchange, but he still finds himself wishing it had been the elf talking to him.

"That's all then?" Derek confirms.

The halfling—a bard, if he has to hazard a guess—thinks for a moment and nods. "Yeah, think so."

He tries to stay casual, wiping down the counter. "I thought there were more of you the last time." Not that he's worried necessarily; Derek doesn't even know the ranger, doesn't have a reason to worry about someone he met once who did not seem like a fan of his. It's just that adventurers lead dangerous lives, and how can he put her in her place if she was killed fighting monsters or crawling through dungeons?

"Oh." The already friendly face of the halfling brightens. Derek has to wonder if he and the elf ever— "She's out taking care of the horses."

A wave of relief washes over Derek. "We have a stable boy for that."

A little sheepish, the other man shrugs. "Yes, well, he said something that she deemed wrong, and now she doesn't trust him with her babies. Casey likes things done a certain way."

Casey. Derek files that information away for later. "Based on my brief interaction with her the last time, that doesn't surprise me."

He snorts. "She'll want a minute to decide her order, so I guess there will be more when she comes in; I'm sure she'll be in shortly."

After that, he hands over the payment, and Derek gets to work on their order.

His eyes definitely don't stray to the door every few minutes, and Derek absolutely does not have the urge to go to the stables to ensure she's really there in one piece.

What seems like an eternity later, Casey breezes through the door of the inn. She's smiling as she picks straw out of her hair. Waving toward her party, she heads straight for the bar. As she nears, Derek can see a bruise fading on her cheek.

"I own this inn," Derek blurts when she's within hearing distance. "Built it myself."

Her steps falter for a second, brows shooting up. She waits until she's standing at the bar before shrugging one shoulder. "Okay?"

"The last time you were here, you accused me of being a forgettable barkeep. I'm not just a barkeep; the inn is mine."

Casey gives him a strange look, and it occurs to Derek that she may not have spent as much time thinking about their encounter the way he'd been.

"Did I?" A smile tugs at her lips.

Maybe he really is forgettable. That is a terrifying thought that he doesn't want to investigate further. He'd never had this problem before. Not to brag or anything, but Derek's never had trouble finding company in his bed. He's never had to pay for company like some people who pass through his inn—not that there's anything wrong with paying for sex, he's never needed to. The way Casey looks at him, however, makes him doubt these past experiences. He has the distinct feeling that if he invited her back to his room, she'd decline.

It wouldn't even be a polite 'No, thank you' he'd be left feeling nursing the open wound from her sharp words for years to come.

"Guess I was wrong on two counts, then," she continues.

The smile appears now, and Derek's heart picks up in speed. She's got the prettiest smile, but her words have a lot to do with it. She remembers him. Of course, he isn't forgettable. He hadn't doubted that for a second.

One brow shoots up again, and the look of disappointment has him equal parts aroused and concerned. "Although, I see you haven't learned anything from our last encounter. We had a whole conversation about how you should probably start by taking your customer's order before harassing them. Slow learner, are we?"

He blinks, feeling a flush creep up the back of his neck. "What can I get for you?"

Casey slides onto the stool, leaning on the counter. "Nope. You can't backpedal that quickly this time." She hums, glancing around. Her gaze is assessing, and though Derek has felt nothing but pride in his establishment, this moment has him worried about what her opinion of it is. "You really own the inn?"

Derek nods.

Leaning forward a little more, she smirks, and fuck if that isn't the single sexiest thing he's seen. It's practically a mirror of his own smirk, calling to a deeper part of him. For once, he isn't talking about his dick. Her tone is conspiratorial, "How long were you waiting to tell me? Looked like you couldn't hold it in much longer?"

"What happened to your face?" He asks instead.

The smirk grows into amusement as she sits back. "Fight with a kobold." Casey shrugs like it's no big deal that a fight with a monster led her to get hit in the face. "Hazards of the job."

"How did you end up in the job, anyway?"

"Ah." Casey straightens up, and he feels a stab of disappointment at the distance as sharp as when she wields her words. Thankfully her tone now is softer, playful. "You haven't earned the right to that answer." A beat. "Yet."

The way she says it sounds like a promise, one that's filled with potential. Yet is suddenly Derek's new favorite word, and his heart skips at the addition. "Casey," he whines, dragging her name out, savoring the way it feels in his mouth.

It feels nice, watching the surprise flicker over her visage. "Seems you have me at a disadvantage?"

He knows what she wants, but if she can withhold information, so can he.

"You haven't earned my name," he counters. His heart is racing now. Derek waits the same amount of time she had before adding, "yet."

Casey bites back a smile, and it feels like a victory. "You assume that I care to find out."

It stings a little, but he doesn't buy it. "You can't stand not knowing," Derek guesses. Based on what the halfling told him and his few experiences with Casey, he has a feeling that she likes being in control of all situations. "Can't stand that I know your name, and you don't know mine."

"How'd you find it out?"

"The small one mentioned you were in the stables," Derek admits, inclining his head toward her friends.

She glances back at her party. When she turns around to face Derek, Casey's smile is fond. "Sam."

So busy is he wondering if the two have them are together that it takes Derek a second to realize that she's saying the halfling's name. "I guess." He shrugs. "He didn't say."

There's a pause as Casey studies him. She's smiling slyly, making him both nervous and wishing he could lean across the counter to kiss her, but that's how Truman lost both his business and one of his balls. Still, Derek can feel the upper hand slipping from his grasp. "You were asking about me," she sing-songs.

"No."

"Casey nods, her smile growing brighter. "You were."

"Were you going to order something because I have other things to take care of."

Glancing around at the tavern portion of the inn, Casey nods with a little snort. It's an unattractive sound, much like the horses he sometimes helps care for when they're begging for a treat, but he finds it absurdly cute. "Sure. I can see that you're very busy."

"I have other things to handle aside from the floor," Derek sniffs. "Owning a business keeps me very busy."

"Of course." She holds up her hands, sliding to her feet. "I'll take the beef stew and an ale, and I'll leave you to your busy business."

She pays him, collecting her drink and heading to the table with her friends to wait for her stew. She chats animatedly with her adventuring party, not sparing him another glance. Just in case, though, Derek disappears into the back to work on accounting. He's been putting it off long enough as it is.

When he emerges an hour or so later, Casey and her friends gather to head out the door. She catches his eye as she adjusts her leather armor, winking at him. "See you around, Derek," she calls before heading out the door.

He slumps onto the bar as the door swings shut behind them, cursing at the wood.