Okay, in this chapter Casey takes the attitude past selfish moping and on to- who knows. She's tormenting Derek, so of course everything goes to a whole new level. But somehow, I think you won't hate me for it. Or maybe I'm just flattering myself. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters, tv shows, rights, cities, whatever.

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Derek was just about fed up with Casey. Truth be told he was well past fed up and just trying not to admit it, because that would mean he was sticking around out of obligation. And Derek had done quite enough of the responsible act to last him a lifetime.

Either way, he was almost certain she was doing it on purpose. There was a very large difference between a self-centered obnoxious Casey and a self-righteous obnoxious Casey. Casey pretty much sucked at hiding her motives.

"I'm going to take a real shower," she tossed disdainfully over her shoulder, as if she hadn't just dropped her purse right on his foot. Case in point.

"Whatever," he dismissed, well aware of how annoyed he sounded. She gave a self satisfied sniff and disappeared into her room.

Apparently, she was holding him personally responsible for making her attend the play. As if he wanted to sit through a two and a half hour dance-fest and listen to her whine. Why was it that she never looked at the facts when she was blaming him for something?

He kicked her purse across the small living room, hoping to make himself feel better. He didn't even care when her wallet tumbled out and her phone skidded across the floor, coming to a stop under the armchair.

He could be patient as hell when Casey was genuinely distraught, but the second she turned into this he gave himself free range on her stuff.

Which is all he would do, he admitted to himself. As bitchy as she'd been, she was still freaked out about her dad, and he couldn't dump on her when she was so torn up.

Growling in frustration, Derek grabbed some fresh clothes from his suitcase and trudged off to the spare bathroom.

He had hopes that a hot shower would soothe his aggravation, but all that seemed to happen was cloudy vision from an overabundance of steam. He just couldn't concentrate on anything but frustration, and more than once he found himself frowning at the wall, as if Casey would feel it through the intervening plaster.

Five minutes later he was dressed and back to work, gathering together anything that might be useful in case they spent the night again.

Please don't come to that, he groaned to himself. More than two hours of sleep would be nice.

He glanced up as the sound of Casey's hairdryer cut off, tensing for the inevitable. Two minutes later she swept superiorly from the room, looking clean and together and—eff!—hot as hell.

Did she wear that on accident or is she taking this 'torture Derek' thing to a whole new level? he wondered, more frustrated than ever.

"I guess it's too much to expect you to make dinner." She gave a long-suffering sigh that was much too snide to be believed.

Brushing off the natural response—'like I'd cook'—or even the fitting, 'so sorry you don't have another meal to refuse', Derek gestured grandly to the kitchen.

"Feel free."

Hey, he wasn't perfect.

"Typical," Casey shot back, making a point to look offended. "Always thinking of yourself."

Derek wondered if she was grasping at straws now, or if she had been living in some bizarre alternate universe for the past two days.

He made himself shrug it off.

"And you don't even care," Casey continued, hell-bent on digging herself into a hole. "What was I thinking, expecting anything else? I thought that, maybe, since I'm dealing with so much right now—"

"Sorry," Derek interrupted, not meaning it in the least. But he thought he had put some feeling in it.

Casey looked at him for a long moment, before crossing her arms. Her false ire wasn't coming up with a response and it obviously irked her.

"Let's get back to the hospital," she huffed after a few minutes of coming up empty. "Something might have happened while we were out being frivolous, and I really doubt Kendra has the capacity to handle it. Even if she hasn't already perky-ed the nursing staff to death."

Derek felt anger flash through him. It was one thing to be rude to him—he was used to it, by now, and pretty sure he deserved it somehow, if not at this moment—but he found he was kind of mad at her for digging into Kendra, especially when his ex had been so unexpectedly helpful. Just because Casey didn't like it was no reason to badmouth the blonde.

"Don't start," he told her, and though he simply meant it as a command, it came out too bitingly. He couldn't bring himself to soften the words, and simply gazed at Casey with a stony expression.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, sounding anything but. "Did I offend you? How could I be so selfish, to focus on myself at a time like this? I mean, my dad's only dying," she exaggerated, from incense or real fear he couldn't tell, "but if Kendra took time out of her busy schedule to force me away from my father, who really cares?"

The guilt trip was working a little, despite how obvious she was being about it, but Derek was still pissed at how unfair she was being.

"Kendra took time out of her busy schedule," he shot back, slightly less evocatively than Casey, "to help you. Because she was worried. So yell at me all you want, but don't turn this around on her."

He wasn't quite sure where this feeling of protection for Kendra came from, but it melted away when Casey muttered, "Figures you'd take her side," in a barely concealed tone of hurt.

"Casey," he ground out, exasperated with her whole attitude. "I'm not taking her side, okay? Just . . . lay off for a minute."

She glanced up to study his face, expression petulant. Then she was blinking rapidly in shock, her anger unexpectedly evaporating, leaving her looking almost vulnerable. Which only made him annoyed with himself.

Nice job not taking it out on her, he berated internally.

"You're right," Casey murmured breathily, astounded, before sucking in a lungful of air and glancing down to study the floor.

That threw him more than her sudden personality change. At least he was used to those.

"What?"

"I'm not being fair," she murmured, voice becoming distinctly wobbly. He felt fear jolt through him.

"No!" he almost shouted, reaching one hand out as if to stop her tears. "No, it's fine! Just, just don't . . . ."

It wasn't exactly what he intended, but he still felt relieved as she glanced up and gave a shaky laugh.

"Still can't stand those tears, huh?" she joked half-heartedly, water slowly receding from her eyes. He gave an embarrassed grin in response, not quite managing the casual smirk he would have liked. He was still baffled that she had dropped forty-eight hours worth of bitching in less than thirty seconds, but Casey didn't seem to notice his confusion.

"You're right, Derek," she repeated, sounding surprisingly steady for such an admission. "I'm not being fair," she added again softly.

"Well, your dad, and . . ." he trailed off, not quite sure how to be understanding without sounding like an idiot, which he seemed to manage anyway. If there was one thing that never failed to throw him off, it was Casey in a freak-out.

"No," she continued, bent on this self-rapprochement.

Crap.

"It was really sweet of Kendra to do that. I'm being a jerk." She stopped for a moment, eyes flickering to him and back to the ground. With a deep breath, Casey took the plunge: "I've been a jerk to you, too."

He wondered if his head could explode from shock. He managed to recover himself fairly easily, though, considering.

"Yeah, okay," he muttered quickly, hoping she would drop it. Much as he loved Casey admitting he was right, it wasn't quite as sweet under the circumstances. And the absolute last thing he wanted at the moment was a heartfelt thank you.

He got one anyway.

"Thanks, Derek," Casey said, glancing up at him with a hesitant expression. "You've been really great," she added, a warm smile hinted in the faint curve of her mouth. He couldn't do anything but shrug lamely.

She let out a breath, and, after a moment, stepped forward impulsively, pausing to watch his reaction before she finished the movement.

Derek assessed the situation for a moment—well, it's not like I'll mind, or anything; might as well give her what she wants—before rolling his eyes and halfheartedly raising his arms. A genuine smile flitted across her features as she took the final step and wrapped her arms around his neck in a friendly hug. Glad of the averted outburst, he humored her by lightly patting her on the back, quirking his mouth ruefully and trying to ignore how content he felt. Which was ridiculous, because stupid little crush or no, he could usually will away obnoxious feelings like that.

Casey, for her part, obviously felt no such feelings; this kind of hug was something she doled out willingly to nearly anyone with the least provocation. And aside from that, Derek knew she simply needed some human comfort at the moment.

So he was slightly surprised when she absently sighed in her throat and rose to her tiptoes. He had thought she was in enough emotional turmoil to dismiss her attraction to him; she had certainly put on a good show of ignoring him all weekend, and not the kind that hinted she was actually more aware of him than usual. And judging by her barely retracted unrighteous indignation, he figured she would stay a little wary of him for a day or two.

Still, Casey was obviously finding Derek's presence soothing, because she hugged him closer and turned her face into his shoulder. Her nose skimmed his collar to brush along the exposed skin of his neck.

He knew it was a bad idea the moment he felt her arms tighten across his back, even as he instinctively tightened his own around her waist. She seemed to realize it, too, an instant later; he felt her arms quickly slacken and drag, almost hesitantly, back across his shoulders in retreat.

Despite a vague feeling of rejection and an even vaguer feeling of moral reprehension, he couldn't help but focus on the way her fingers trailed along his biceps as she slowly lowered them. His own arms were barely halfway back to safety, and when he let his gaze flicker to her face—eyes watching him through uncertain lashes and teeth tugging at her lip in a shy and confused sort of embarrassment that was so unlike the Casey he always saw—he knew he couldn't make it. His right hand impulsively tightened on her waist, fingers skimming the fabric at the end of her shirt; with his left hand he reflexively reached up to grab her neck, digits tangling in her hair and ghosting along her cheek, almost touching . . . .

Then, before she could grasp what was happening, he swooped in and kissed her.

Casey immediately stiffened in his arms, surprise and discomfit pinning her arms to her sides, the right one pressing awkwardly against Derek's left. Derek pulled her face up to better meet his, but Casey remained rigid. He lingered awkwardly, annoyingly unsure of how to proceed.

He had known—if he ever shot reason to hell and actually attempted something like this—that Casey wouldn't react like other girls might. Still, he had never been flat out rejected. He hadn't really considered the possibility (not that this action in itself was remotely thought out). But, combined with their precarious familial situation and the more concerning fact that he actually cared about her, the prospect was daunting.

After an excruciatingly long moment in which Derek almost regretted his actions, the firm but tentative pressure of Derek's lips seemed to course through her senses; Derek thought he felt a shudder ripple through her, lightning shooting up her spine and diffusing through her body, electrifying her stiff pose and leaving her limp. Then her arms were around his neck; resting across his shoulders; trailing down his chest; and her hands tangled in his hair before darting to grasp his face, pulling him closer, closer, as one hand slide down to rest on his stomach, her erratic heartbeat tingling through his chest.

The apartment, the hospital, the earlier irritation . . . forgotten. Even the sight of Casey's eyes welling; the unwanted burden of responsibility; that clawing feeling of desperate helplessness Derek couldn't seem to escape; . . . gone. Derek felt secure again, back on familiar territory. He knew this, he could handle this. And the sense that Casey had finally fallen to the inevitable just made it that much more . . . filling.

He blocked out his brain and lost himself in sensation.

*~*~*

The familiar sensation swirled through his mouth and Derek's eyes drifted closed in response.

"Mhm." The sound was barely audible in the back of Casey's throat.

It registered uncomfortably with her stepbrother, and his eyes flashed open automatically as he hurriedly put the wineglass back on the bar.

"Next," he ordered, eyes darting sideways to make sure Casey hadn't noticed. Her attention was fully focused on the Cabernet Sauvignon in her glass.

"Sauvignon Blanc," the waiter announced as he poured Derek a token amount.

"Thanks," Derek responded as he lifted his glass once more.

"How is it?"

Derek was surprised to find that Casey, waiting for her next drink, had turned to watch him enjoy his.

"Good," he recovered. "But airy."

Her lips pursed ruefully. "Not a good choice for an evening wedding. Darkness and dinner tend to overpower light wines."

He quirked an eyebrow, watching her with some amusement. "It's too feminine for me anyways. Who knows how I'll make it through the Champagne."

Casey rolled her eyes and smiled at him. Derek couldn't help but grin in response.

It had been remarkably easy to work with Casey over the past few days. He'd thought the tux fitting would have sent her running, but since her (failed) foray into wedding bands they'd been pretty civil. Sometimes more than civil. Casey was being downright friendly, and it was throwing Derek off. After many hours of useless self-examination he had decided to roll with it, and the past week and a half had been strangely relaxing.

He had missed casual conversation with Casey. And strangely enough, getting to know her again was giving him a reprieve from all those relentless memories. It allowed him to focus on the now again, which was something he desperately needed.

Except for when she makes noises like that, he amended as Casey retreated into her next sample, making the same, unconscious noise.

More unbidden, previously buried memories assailed him, and Derek tried very hard to forget the fact that she made noises when she kissed, too.

Kendra makes noises, he tried to distract himself. Great noises. Sexy noises.

He glanced back over at Casey.

Okay, I probably shouldn't be thinking about noises right now, regardless of who makes them.

"Next."

Nora drove them home an hour later, and she stayed surprisingly quiet during the thirty-minute drive. She also kept flashing these weird, relived/happy/confused looks between him and Casey, and Derek wondered how he had missed her astute moments. He didn't even know she had picked up on the cold tension that had been his and Casey's relationship over the past seven or so years. The fact that she was now picking up on the return of cordiality was a little shocking.

He didn't quite regret accepting his stepmother's offer to drive them to the winery. He just couldn't wrap his head around the idea that she was sort of involved in his life again. He hadn't realized how much he had blamed her—the family, really—for everything that had happened all those years ago. It was nice to let go, to remove the slight taint with which he always regarded his family. For the first time in a while, he felt wholly comfortable with Nora.

He glanced at Casey, catching the corner of her eye as she fruitlessly tried to engage her mother in conversation. His lips pulled faintly upward. In typical Casey fashion, she wasn't doing things halfway. If she decided to rebuild one bridge, countless others would invariably follow. Her eyes twinkled in response to the rueful admiration in his gaze, her mouth still caught up in babbling to her mother. She trailed off momentarily, a smile pulling at her lips; a few seconds later, Casey's eyes shifted back to the woman in the driver's seat as she seamlessly continued her easy chatter.

In the rearview mirror, Nora raised an eyebrow at her now-grown stepson, whose eyes were still trained on her oblivious daughter.

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Ah, another chapter. So one mystery (sort of) revealed, another mystery springing up. I'm planning on involving the family more soon (we'll see how that goes), and Kendra won't be gone for much longer. And—frabjous day!—I actually have quite a bit written for the end chapter of this story. So we'll just see how long it takes to get there. Thanks for sticking by me, those who have. You guys are amazing!

Let me know what you think.