Yes, I know I'm a horrible person. This update was basically pathetic in how long it took. I really did mean to update within a few days, but then it got crazy and this story slipped my mind. I did force myself to finish another chapter before I went away on vacation. Hopefully when I get back in town next Sunday I'll have the time to start updating regularly.

Disclaimer: I got nothing.

Jenny sat across the table, watching him with vague impatience she didn't care to disguise. "Any particular place I should start?" Derek asked sarcastically, unable to stop himself from voicing his annoyance with the situation, though he had already made it exceedingly obvious. "Or do I have permission to freehand it?" Maybe that was going a bit too far, but she was being rather demanding.

"And leave out all the good parts?" Jenny asked, a smile twitching as she raised a brow. "I don't think so. "Start at the beginning. When did it start getting serious?"

He looked at her blankly for a moment, as if wondering whether it was necessary to subject himself to this. "Sometime in high school," he answered finally, suppressing his mixed emotions into a bored tone. He would tell her the essentials and enough to keep her from asking about more, but she wasn't getting anything else from him. "Probably about the time I realized we had been dating for two months longer than I'd ever dated a girl before and I still liked hanging out with her." He had started wondering about the time of the cheating fiasco, but it hadn't really hit him until a couple months later. Derek wasn't really one to think things through, and he definitely hadn't wanted to admit he actually cared about Kendra. A lot.

Jenny nodded, pursing her lips with interest and watching him with a concentration that told him she wouldn't be forgetting his answers anytime soon. No slipups, he ordered himself sternly. Usually he was pretty good at avoiding slipups, but lately his mind hadn't been obeying quite as he would have liked it to.

"And you dated how long before you finally broke up?" Jenny continued, apparently content to continue chronologically.

"About two years. We broke up a few times, but nothing that lasted long." He kept his voice conversational, hoping to break the feeling of being on trial quite against his will.

"Until . . ." she began, dangling the sentence in a hint for him to fill in the blanks.

"Until spring of Senior year, when everything got too serious. She accepted an internship in New York, I was going to college here, and she expected some . . . I don't know, declaration of love or something."

"Or marriage proposal?" she asked with a smile.

He raised an eyebrow. Actually, in those last few weeks before graduation, he had started to wonder if that was exactly what Kendra wanted. "Yeah," he answered, vaguely surprised.

"I'm her cousin," Jenny reminded easily. "I know how Kendra thinks."

He nodded slightly and continued. "Well, we definitely weren't that serious back then. So I told her to move on."

Jenny raised an eyebrow. "And she . . . ."

"Took it surprisingly well," Derek filled in.

"Really?" Jenny asked, taken aback despite herself. "She didn't freak out?"

Derek shook his head. He had been rather amazed himself. At the time he had chalked it up to luck, but that was probably one of the reasons he took a while to get over her. Just another thing to drive him crazy.

"So we broke up and didn't really talk much until graduation. She called to say goodbye, then went to New York."

"Were you sad to see her go?" Jenny asked, seemingly discussing a perfect stranger rather than her cousin.

"Well, yeah. I mean, just cause I didn't want to marry her didn't mean I wanted her to leave," he replied, wondering why she was asking questions with such obvious answers. If she was just trying to make him uncomfortable, she was a far stretch from succeeding. Derek didn't like to discuss his feelings, but he had long since gotten over the mental block of talking about his relationship with Kendra. He just didn't care much for the past.

"You didn't want to marry her then, but you want to marry her now?" Jenny asked,

"Yes," Derek told her bluntly, sick of the suspicion of his motives. His dad, Jenny . . . he wondered who would be next. Though he doubted anyone could top Jenny in bluntness, except maybe Marti. He groaned mentally. The last thing he needed was his little sister getting involved in the anti-marriage movement. He might just crack.

"Okay," Jenny continued with a shrug, dropping the subject. "So you started dating again Junior year? What about your love life in between then?" she asked without waiting for confirmation. She had heard about 'Derek Venturi' at least twice a week for months, and she didn't need him to verify that he had been dating Kendra at the time.

"I dated a lot of girls during college. Nothing really groundbreaking." He shrugged, forcing himself to focus on the second semester of freshman year as the beginning of his dating life.

"Oh yes. The stereotypical male college experience. New girl every week, or could you muddle through a few extra dates?" she wondered with mock concern.

"Couldn't even make it through a week, sometimes," he admitted with a grin. It was nice to see a girl who didn't immediately condemn that for a change, no matter how bothersome she may be.

Jenny gave a light laugh, pulling her leg underneath her and leaning back in her chair. "So you went through a string of bimbos until you started dating Kendra again?" she asked with a smile.

"Basically," he shrugged, feeling slightly easier than he had through most of the conversation.

"What about before that?" she asked casually, keeping her eyes sharp for signs of a shift in Derek's countenance. Derek's easy feelings vanished as he forced himself not to stiffen. How did she catch that? He had taken to using subtle evasion tactics rather than blatant lying—no one ever paid close enough attention anyways, and it saved him from dealing with the small conscience he was at loath to admit he had developed—but apparently that wasn't working too well anymore. Still, he answered her question casually.

"I didn't date anyone after graduation. Kendra had just left, and I was kind of dealing with actually caring that she was gone." Which was true, to some degree. He could tell she didn't quite believe him, but there was nothing obviously wrong about the statement. After a moment, she moved on, looking slightly perturbed.

"Then you got back together, of course. I take it you stopped dating Playboy Bunnies?" she asked in a tone that suggested the answer better be 'yes.' Natural curiosity or not, she wasn't going to let him by messing with her cousin.

"Yes," he replied, rolling his eyes and holding back a sigh. Just because he had liked to date promiscuously didn't mean he couldn't be trusted, did it? "Actually, I had stopped most of that a few weeks before I ran into Kendra again," he added, wondering if he could make her feel guilty for the assumption. He doubted it, but it was worth a shot.

"You stopped dating random girls of your own will before you had another prospect lined up?" she repeated, expounding on the statement in a way that annoyed him slightly. He nodded nonetheless, boredom faintly evident around his eyes. Jenny ignored it to ask the obvious, "Why?"

"I don't know," he replied, shrugging. "I got sick of it."

"'You got sick of it?'" she repeated, lifting an appraising eyebrow.

"Yes," he said slowly, watching her oddly as if she were trying to slip him up.

"From what I hear, Derek Venturi didn't get sick of girls. Well, not of dating, at least," she amended at the obvious skepticism in the set of his brow. "Of course, attractive, confident, jock-types usually play girls like a sport, so it doesn't surprise me much. But why'd you quit? Really."

"I got sick of it," he repeated clearly, then continued almost as if he would rather not. "You know it was just . . . boring. None of them were interesting, or if they were I didn't stick around to find out. I just couldn't get into them." He shrugged again to dispel the thought, hoping it would eradicate the reason from his mind.

"Interesting," Jenny observed lightly, and Derek narrowed his eyes slightly to study her.

"Why?" he demanded casually, mind still elsewhere.

"Oh, you know. Guys like you just usually aren't that perceptive. They think half-naked women are the ticket to happiness," she explained, with an amused roll of her eyes.

"'Guys like me?'" he repeated, slightly offended.

"Oh, you know what I mean," she dismissed easily, waving her hand as if to dispel the thought. "So, after college," she said decisively, bringing the conversation back to its original purpose.

"I got an apartment and found a job. Kendra had another semester, because she had to make up the credits that didn't transfer when she came back home. And, you know, we dated for a while, it got a little more serious, and she somehow managed to make me propose of my own volition." He shrugged again, casually emphasizing the simplicity of it.

"And that's it?" she asked, skeptical.

"Yeah," he dismissed, raising an eyebrow as if to wonder why she was questioning him.

"What about just before you graduated University?" she asked coolly, giving him a pointed look for the omission.

"Just before the end of University?" Derek repeated, hoping the slight jolt in his chest and his reaction to the images that suddenly flooded his mind weren't evident in his voice. "Uh . . ." it took him a moment longer than usual to gather his thoughts, and he cursed himself when he noted the questioning furrowing of her eyebrows. "We went through a rough patch, I guess," he finally managed in a normal tone.

"Kendra said you were acting distant. She thought for sure you were going to break up with her. I mean, after I talked her out of the idea of you cheating." Derek glanced up sharply and she shrugged dismissively. "We kept in touch."

"My family was having a little trouble," he told her firmly. "I was having trouble dealing with it." She looked as if she wanted to inquire as to that as well, but his face was resolute. He had finally given up this fight, but there was only so far she could push him.

"So how old were you when your dad got remarried?" she asked instead, smiling at his confusion at the shift of topics. "Kendra didn't know you then."

"Fifteen," he said without giving any further explanation.

"Lizzie is about your brother's age, correct? Is Casey your age?"

"Yes," he replied, slightly wary.

"Didn't you guys used to fight a lot? Kendra said you were always trying to one-up each other," Jenny's mouth twisted into a small smile. "I guess you clashed from the beginning," she laughed. "You've certainly grown up, haven't you?" She knew she was prying, she had to. There was no way she had missed the polite tension between Derek and Casey over the past few weeks. Derek felt himself growing aggravated again. Just because he was marrying her cousin didn't give her the right to try and mess with his brain. Noting the perturbed look on his face, she backtracked.

"So why did you always fight? Rebellion against an unwanted marriage?" she asked with a grin. They were still on the topic of Casey, which he would much rather steer clear of, but at least this was safe territory. Fighting and arguing and pranking; the days when things were easy.

Once those days were gone he had found it impossible to block thoughts of her, a fact that irked him to no end. He had spent his whole life learning to lie, both to others and to himself. He was a master at avoidance, and used his skills frequently. But Casey just had to mess everything up. Again.

"I don't know," he said in response to Jenny's question. "It was fun, I guess."

"So you're the sadistic type? Torturing people for fun?" she asked easily, once again twitching a smile.

"People? No. Casey? Yes."

Jenny nodded, shifting herself in her chair in a manner that seemed to signal she had gotten what she wanted to hear. A satisfied air hung about her, but for all the pestering she had done, Jenny showed none of the aggravating displays of accomplishment he had expected. She watched him appraisingly for a moment, which was vaguely aggravating in its own right, before shifting her position, smoothly swinging her legs back under the table and leaning her face in her palm. He lifted a confused eyebrow, as she quirked her head to one side to look at him.
"I used to hate Kendra," she stated factually, as if it fit perfectly with their line of conversation.
"What?" he asked, not even attempting to hide his incomprehension.
"I hated her." she repeated simply. "With a passion. Used to drive our mothers crazy."
"What the hell?" he asked, growing frustrated. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"We're getting to know each other. You shared your life story; I figured the least I can do is return the favor." She neglected to mention her role in forcing that history, but Derek dismissed it as implied, though not without internal muttering that did little to flatter Jenny.
He glared at her. "Somehow, it doesn't seem quite the same. Unless you'd like to share some dark embarrassing moment of your past." Okay, he hadn't shared anything truly embarrassing, but it wasn't exactly and enjoyable conversation.
"I might get there. But for now, the basics." She sighed as he continued to look pissed off. "Okay, maybe an inquisition wasn't the best way to start. But you made it, didn't you? Besides, you might find out something interesting." He doubted it, but resigned himself to listen nonetheless.

"This dislike was almost instantaneous," she continued easily. "By the time we were in diapers my mother couldn't even babysit for my aunt without Kendra leaving in tears. So it was probably a good thing we lived a few hours apart. High school didn't help. I've always been a little too opinionated, and Kendra can't take blunt comments. At least, not ones that insult her," Jenny said with hints of amusement. Derek raised an eyebrow, by no means invested, but at least mildly interested. Besides, he knew the validity of Jenny's observation. "Then she went to New York. And I was ecstatic, naturally. But about a month in, she needed my mom's help with some design test or something. She studied graphic design, back in the stone ages," Jenny added, though Derek could quite easily infer that himself. "My mom is hopeless with the computer, so I had to relay messages. And it turns out, we actually started liking each other. I went up to visit her at the end of the summer: hung out at the magazine, went shopping, checked out Broadway . . . and at the end of the trip, we were actually friends. Kind of crazy, but hey." She shrugged as if to say, 'why not?'

For some reason, something about that clicked in the back of Derek's brain, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out what. She continued before he could dwell on it.

"So here we are, seven years later, and I've connived to become her Maid of Honor. Not as much fun as I would have liked, but you know. I'll muddle through, so long as she keeps some hint of sanity. Which seems to be improving, of late," she added in regards to Kendra's sanity, shooting Derek a slightly appreciative look. He didn't know quite what he had to do with it, but accepted the acknowledgement with a shrug. "Well," Jenny said abruptly, standing and stretching. "It's almost eleven, and I want some sleep. You have any extra pillows floating around here?" Derek rolled his eyes. She managed almost an entire conversation relatively normally, then she just drops the whole thing after weeks of pestering. Crazy, he repeated to himself as he walked to his bedroom to rummage through the closet, emerging two minutes later to toss a pillow and blanket at Jenny. She disappeared back into the living room, and he climbed into bed as the lights clicked off. He couldn't help but feel vaguely disconcerted as he lay in bed, and the thoughts swirling through his mind made sleep hard to come by. When he finally drifted off, Derek's subconscious attacked him once more.

He was standing behind the couch, rolling his eyes as Nora fooled with the camera.

"Just one more," she promised as she attempted to change the film with one hand and balance Casey's roses in the other.

"I want one with Smerek!" Marti cried, abandoning her seat by Lizzie and Edwin to clamber over the back of the couch and clasp her brother around the neck, ordering her still-fumbling stepmother to take a picture. A stifled giggle sounded to his left, and Derek rolled his eyes as he managed to situate his sister in his grasp. Glancing beside him at his stepsister, who was still trying not to laugh at his expense, Derek reached casually around her shoulder to tug on the tassel hanging from her cap. Casey's mouth fell open in mock anger as her cap tilted askew, turning to him before he managed to remove his hand from the tassel. He grinned as she planted her hands firmly on her hips, but the diatribe was cut short by a bright flash. When the dots cleared, they were both looking at Nora, who smiled and announced, "Just one more."

---

He had somehow been roped into taking the kids to the pool. How he didn't know, but he was feeling ridiculously abused at the usurpation of his summer vacation. Besides, wasn't he supposed to be the irresponsible one? "Move over," came the demanding voice behind him as he attempted to find Marti's flip flop, which had mysteriously vanished under the seat. Removing his head from the car, Derek banged his head on the door as his eyes drifted sideways.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, mildly perturbed, as he recovered from the sight and glared at Casey across the parking space.

"I got home early, so mom dropped me off. You didn't really think they trusted you at the pool with three kids, did you?" It was a rhetorical question, and she didn't bother waiting for an answer before shoving past him and leaning into the car to find the shoe that eluded her stepbrother. He wished she had put on a longer skirt, and maybe some kind of shirt as well. But definitely the skirt, he reiterated as he attempted to focus on the arm digging under the seat. It took barely a minute for her to find what had eluded him for ten, and soon she had pushed herself up on the seat and emerged from the car.

"Here you go, Marti," she told the little girl, walking toward the hood to hand it to the little girl. Marti chirped a quick "thanks" as she stuffed her little foot into the sandal and skipped off toward the gate. "Derek, you coming?" Casey asked over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow at his failure to move. He nodded briefly, slamming the door shut and grabbing the bag of towels before he followed everyone toward the pool entrance, banging his head against the proverbial wall the entire way.

---

The house was silent as he crept through the living room, kicking his shoes off at the stairs and padding toward the kitchen. He wasn't that late, but Nora tended to be both more precise than his Dad and heavier with the punishment. If he got caught, he could always say he just wanted something to eat. He flicked on the light without slowing his feet, jumping slightly as a figure slowly materialized. He hadn't heard her tonight.

"Jeeze, Casey. Trying to give me a heart attack? What are you doing down here?"

"Working," she replied without glancing up from her notebooks.

"Working on what?" he asked, grabbing a soda and coming around to slide onto the stool next to her. As he glanced over her shoulder, she sighed, making one last scribble.

"You're past curfew," she said plainly, finally setting down her pen and looking up at him.

"Yeah," admitted, completely unrepentant.

She watched him resolutely for another moment before rolling her eyes and reclaiming the pen. "One of these days, my mom is going to catch you." She knew as well as he that his dad would make a show of punishing him and forget about it within a few days.

"Maybe," he shrugged. He was still surprised that Casey didn't take it upon herself to rat him out, but they had reached an understanding somewhere at the beginning of the summer: he wouldn't do anything stupid and she wouldn't rat him out. Of course, it wasn't a concrete arrangement. Casey would never admit to breaking the rules, and he would never admit to following them. But still, she chose not to inform Nora when he was out late, and he would often return to find her sitting at the island in the kitchen or working in the living room. He always pretended he didn't expect her, just as she pretended it was simply a coincidence.

"So . . .?" he asked as he leaned over her shoulder, hinting at the still unanswered question.

"I'm making an organization plan," she stated factually, as if daring him to make fun of her. Of course, he couldn't help but rise to the occasion.

"Organization plan? Wow, Case; I had no idea you're social life was that pitiful. Why didn't you tell me?" he wondered with mock concern. He laughed as she rolled her eyes and studied the notebook more closely. "So what are we organizing?" he wondered patronizingly. "And why does organization need a plan?" he added after a moment, lifting his brow in curious amusement.

"I promised Mr. Lassiter I'd organize the extra curricular room before school starts back up."

He raised one eyebrow and looked at Casey disbelievingly before breaking out into a laugh. "Still kissing up to Mr. L, huh, Case? Didn't anyone tell you?" He leaned down to hover over her shoulder. "School's over," he stage whispered, grinning as she tilted her head to glare at him before returning to work.

"Can I help it that I have standards?" she asked superiorly, crossing her arms and turning toward him as he leaned back into his original position. "I don't want to leave the next Workroom Assistant to wonder what a slob Casey McDonald was." With that, she turned sharply back to her notebook and started writing again.

"If you're so organized, why is it messy in the first place?" he wondered as he watched her work.

"Because the teachers refused to follow my system," she said pointedly, irritation evident for the staff.

Derek shook his head and stood. "I'm sure you'll have them straightened out soon enough," he told her, rolling his eyes. Grabbing the extra pencil on the countertop, he used it to flick one of Casey's curls into the air as he passed, tossing the pencil next the coffee pot as he walked to the stairs. "Later, Casey."

"Night, Derek," she mumbled, glancing over her shoulder to watch him go before steadfastedly glancing down once more.

More flashes. More scenes of the past, manifest. One thought drifted through the pattern in his subconscious: "Where's Kendra?"

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It was an extra page, typed, so maybe that will make people hate me less  Maybe not. Alright, yada yada, not sure about this; yada yada, let me know about characterizations and such. Please tell me what you think. Love you all.