Thursday

Casey woke up feeling very nearly suffocated. It took her slow regain to consciousness to realize what sort of position she was in.

They were both in the middle of the bed, Derek's arms wrapped around her very securely from behind. She was pulled up against his chest, his chin resting on her shoulder. They were both facing the door, and she doubted there was a part of them that wasn't touching. One of his warm hands was actually under her pajama top, resting on her stomach. Thankfully it wasn't too high…or too low…but it was definitely too close for comfort.

Derek was still asleep, taking deep breaths she could feel while so close against his chest. She wiggled slightly, but his hold on her lessened not at all. Getting out of his tight grip would surely require waking him, whether on purpose or accidentally as she struggled to break loose. And that would make for one awkward situation.

Really, there was nothing for it but to pretend she was still asleep, and hope he'd wake up soon. Then he could just let her go and then she could "wake up" and they could pretend this never happened.

Derek felt like he hadn't felt in nearly a year and a half. Comfortable and safe and happy in his bed. For one wild moment, as he was coming out of that delirious half-asleep stage of waking up, he thought things were back how they used to be: he lived alone with his dad and siblings and a stuffed bear which no one ever saw.

Then he realized he was not, in fact, nestled up with the Mr. Bear of his youth, but with the stepsister of his nightmares.

He groaned softly. How did he end up in these positions, wrapped so tightly around Casey? He couldn't help what he did while asleep. Figured that his no-Casey-hug policy would end up being violated in his sleep. At least she didn't seem to be awake yet. There was still hope for coming out of this with his dignity intact.

He willed himself to move, but he was always sluggish this early in the morning. He took a deep breath, accidentally inhaling the sweet fragrance of her strawberry-scented shampoo. It smelled so good. His stomach rumbled in hunger.

Very slowly, being careful not to jostle Casey too much, he pulled his arms back so he was no longer hugging her to him. Then he sat up, put a few inches of bed between their bodies, and shook her shoulder to wake her up.

"Hey, Casey," Emily greeted her at school that morning. "How's the Derek situation coming? Have you murdered him yet?"

"Oh, whatever," Casey said grumpily. "What good would it do me? I'm not good at murder. And it wouldn't change anything, or stop people from what they're already saying. It's only for one more night, then I'll be back to my own nice Derek-free bed." She shoved her books into her locker with much less care than usual.

"Am I sensing some continued hostility?" Emily guessed. Casey glanced at her, then took a deep breath and let it all out slowly.

"No. I mean, yes, but no." She sighed. "It doesn't really matter. One more night. And really, there's nothing I could do—Derek's just being Derek. That's why I hate him, right?"

"Wrong," Emily said. "You know perfectly well you don't hate him. Dislike him, yes. Get annoyed by him, yes. But not hate. Anyway," she grinned, "I'd say you did a pretty good job of publicly humiliating him yourself. What with the shoving and all."

Casey smiled. "A firm hand," she said. "That's all he really needs."

"Casey!" Derek called out, finally catching sight of her walking the opposite direction down the hallway. "Hey, wait up!"

She didn't turn. He sprinted after her, nearly knocking over some freshman as he did.

"Here," he said when he'd finally caught up, falling into step beside her and shoving a brown paper bag into her hands. "Nora accidentally switched our lunches."

She didn't answer, or give any indication that she had heard him. She just continued walking, eyes straight ahead.

"Casey? Yoo-hoo? Space Case, ya there?" Derek waved a hand in front of her face. She swatted it away.

"Ah! It's alive!" he grinned. She didn't reply.

"Casey," he tried again. "What are you doing? Giving me the silent treatment? Are you mad at me about something?" Still no response. He darted in front of her and put his hands on her shoulders, barring her from taking another step. He gave her a shake.

"Derek, please let go of me," she said through gritted teeth.

"Oh, not until you tell me what's going on. I repeat: you mad at me or something? 'Cause I'm sorry about yesterday."

Casey finally sighed, relaxing her formerly rigid pose.

"No, Derek, I'm not mad at you," she said, looking him right in the eyes. "And I know perfectly well you're not in the least bit sorry about yesterday."

Derek grinned, releasing her shoulders and putting his hands in his pockets. He shrugged.

"You know me too well, then."

"Anyway," she said, starting to walk down the hall again. He walked beside her. "It doesn't really matter. You were just being Derek, and I've learned there's not much I can do about that." She rolled her eyes; he smirked. "I'm just trying to get through this last day, this last night, and then it'll be all over."

"Ah, I see you've given up your foolish dream of either one of us claiming the couch or—horror of horrors—the floor," he said. "Good. But what's got you so grumpy?"

"You mean besides the fact that the whole school thinks we're sleeping together?" Casey lowered her voice to a loud whisper on the last two words, as though they were dirty. For her, they probably were.

"But we are," he said, winking.

"Ugh." She stopped at her locker and opened it. He leaned casually against the one next to it.

"Anyway, yes, besides that," he said.

"Oh." She began putting her books away. "Um, nothing I guess…I'm just, you know, tired."

"No, you're not," he said, and his smirk grew even bigger. "You slept like a baby last night. I should know."

"I bet you do," Emily commented. She came up to join them, handing Casey a large textbook. "Here. You left this in the Chem lab."

"Thanks," Casey mumbled, shoving it in her bag. She stood up, slammed her locker shut, and ran off to class.

Derek raised his eyebrows at her retreating back. "What's up with her?"

Emily shrugged. "Nothing. I think she's just a little overwhelmed by the situation—I mean, three people already today have come up to her and made…comments about your comment yesterday."

"Oh." Derek stared off in the direction she had gone for a few seconds. Then he laughed.

"Man, that is priceless."

Casey showed up in Derek's room at ten sharp, clad in pajamas and wearing a smile.

"Happy Thursday, Derek," she said cheerfully. He looked up and scooted over on the bed to make room.

"Who's the chipper one now?" he said, watching as she closed the door and sat down on the bed.

"Oh, I'm just glad tonight's the last night," she said, giving him a million-dollar smile. "I'll be even happier tomorrow night. Getting to sleep in my own bed."

"Admit it, though," he said, lifting the covers and getting beneath them, "my bed's more comfortable."

"Well—yes," Casey conceded, sighing. "Why is that? Is it your sheets, your pillows, your mattress?" She looked about ready to pull apart the whole bed to discover the secret ingredient. To prevent any such thing from happening, Derek lifted the covers up as a sort of invitation for her to get beneath them. She did so.

"Goodnight, then," Casey said, settling in and fluffing her pillow. She laid her head down and closed her eyes, seeming content. She waited for him to turn off the lights.

"Derek?" she finally said, opening her eyes and looking at him. "Aren't you going to turn off the lamp?"

"Huh?" Derek shook his head. "Sorry. Zoned out. What'd you say?"

"Turn off the lights," Casey said very slowly, as though she were talking to a kindergartener. Or Derek Venturi. Which in her mind were apparently two very similar things.

"You're closer," he said, "do it yourself."

Rolling her eyes, Casey turned over in bed and reached an arm out to turn off the lights. Then there was silence as they both lay in bed and attempted to fall asleep.

"Derek," Casey whispered. She had been lying in bed for the past half hour, waiting for sleep to come, and it was still as far-off as it had been thirty-one minutes ago. "You awake?"

"I am now," he grumbled sleepily. "Your whisper has the decibels of a foghorn."

"I'm cold," she whispered, trying to be quieter. "Can you close the window?"

"Why don't you?"

"Because I'm cold." She shivered. She considered having her teeth chatter, but thought that might be taking it a bit too far.

"No," he said. "I like the temperature just the way it is. Now go to sleep."

"But Derek," she said, not caring if she sounded whiny. "It's January, for goodness's sake. It's way too cold to have the window open."

"Not for me," he said stubbornly. "Don't like it, take the couch."

"Oh, I think we both know that's not going to happen," she muttered. "Been there, tried that, remember?"

"Fine. I don't care where you sleep, if you just shut up."

"But I can't sleep when it's this cold!" She was feeling cold enough to complain but warm enough that there was no way she was getting out of bed to go close the window or get another blanket. Which meant he'd obviously have to, if only he'd cooperate.

"Maybe you should buy warmer pajamas, then," he said. She could tell, even in the dark, that he was rolling his eyes. "Those pajama shorts looked as thin as toilet paper."

Casey flushed. "All my warmer pajamas are in the wash," she whispered fiercely. "And I'm cold."

"And you're annoying! Now that we've stated the obvious, can we please move on? As in, go to sleep?"

She pouted into the silence. Then she realized that he had probably closed his eyes and was drifting right off to sleep, not being influenced by the power of a pout he could not see. So she tried sighing loudly. And tossing and turning a bit. And shivering some more, and throwing in some chattering teeth as well.

They didn't call her a drama queen for nothing.

Finally, when she was sighing and tossing and shivering all at once, he spoke.

"Casey? Could you cut it out? Or I'm going to have to banish you to the floor."

"You wouldn't," she gasped. "You couldn't! The bed belongs to me through tomorrow. I have complete control over it."

"Casey," he laughed softly. "If you had complete control, I'd be on the floor, wouldn't I?"

"Well…yes," she said. "But if you had complete control, I'd be on the floor too, wouldn't I?"

"How do you know I'm not just being nice?" he challenged.

"Because I haven't noticed any body-snatching aliens hanging around, lately."

Casey heard the rustling of sheets, and suddenly Derek was much nearer to her. She could feel his breath stir her hair, and his closeness suddenly made the black of the room seem even darker.

"What are you doing?" she whispered.

"Keeping you warm." He sounded grumpy. The next thing she knew, his arms were wrapped around her and she was being held tight by Derek Venturi. Completely shocked though she was, she tried to relax in his arms.

"Better?" he asked a few moments later.

"Yes," she sighed, feeling much warmer. "Definitely."

Yay! Sorry for the wait! Please review, lovlies! If there're any lurkers out there...(gives a very direct look) I'd love to hear what parts you liked! What lines, what scenes, what mental images...;)