Merry Christmas everyone! Here is the next installment!

Thank you to my amazing reviewers! The words that are really sound effects are my favorite! Shout out to those that procrastinated and read instead of doing whatever else was on the agenda. I'm glad I'm not alone! LoveMeant2B and thecanadian13 earn 500 points each for being mostly half right! Congrats! I have a prize in mind...

Next time, I know the wait won't be as long! :)I can't believe I missed November. But I hope that I am forgiven because this is a longer chapter. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Santa has not come yet. I am still waiting, but the prospect is not looking good.

Casey flexed her pinched toes as she adjusted her shoe. If she hadn't been so late she would have been able to grab the emergency pair of flats from her glove box. But she had been late and was stuck with her heels.

"What?" Emily asked, staring slightly. Casey had lost the conversation entirely.

"Hm?" she asked, needing clarification.

"How did he think differently? Like, how differently?"

"I'm not completely sure. He didn't think the same way I did. Still doesn't, even." Emily rolled her eyes.

"No one can, Case. It'd be impossible to think the way you do. We'd all explode." Casey raised an eyebrow, but nodded in consent. Some days her husband pantomimed his head exploding more often than she thought would be statistically accurate. If there was such thing as spontaneous combustion. Which science had yet to prove.

"I know. I meant that from the evidence I had, Derek was on a different planet when it came to relationships. He had gone through them like flavored chewing gum." Emily made a face. "Not like, 'I need to bite you' or I'm done with you, so stick to the underside of this plastic table' type," Casey hastily corrected herself. "I meant like 'oh, this has no flavor left; time for a new one' type. You know what he was like in high school. He was worse at Queen's and then he was gone. I had only seen him interact with people in New York for two weeks. So, I was on my toes while he was really relaxed."

"So," Emily prompted, rubbing at a spot on the table. Casey fought back a wince, There were certainly more bacteria and germs on that table than she would have liked. She swallowed her comment and dragged her focus back to the woman sitting opposite her. "What happened next?"

Casey smiled a little. She should have seen that coming by now. She twisted her ring around her finger out of habit, and sighed. "Let's see," she mused, "Derek graduated the spring after I did."

"Did you go see him?"

"I missed the ceremony because of work, but our entire family went to dinner to celebrate when I flew in."

"Oh, God." Emily's eyes widened.

Derek rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb. New York was alive with glowing lights and bustling people. The cab was stuffy and had a weird smell, but that was only a small matter.

"Thanks for coming to get me," she said, turning to face him. The streetlights lit up his face periodically. He threw an arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head.

"Well, you'd get lost and somehow it would be my fault, so, really, I'm just thinking of all the suffering the both of us would go through when you ended up in the Bronx." She whacked his chest lightly with the back of her hand.

"That's on the other side of the state," she pouted, offended, and only mostly pretending.

"It's the only time we have, just you and me," he shrugged, moving his arm and taking her hand again.

She'd missed him. It was weird, but she forgot how much she'd actually missed him until she saw him. His thumb started making circles against her skin, again. She loved being close to him. He was still in slacks and a button-down shirt that he'd worn under his graduation robes, but had thrown on his leather jacket, despite the mild June New York.

She squeezed his hand. "I'm proud of you, Der." He stared at her for a second, as if debating his next move. "You've done so well." And then he grabbed her face and kissed her. She made a little noise, not expecting him to show any sign of affection in public, let alone in a dirty cab. But he was kissing her. His hands cupped her cheeks, hers clinging to his fingers to steady herself. He smelled so like himself; soap, leather, hair goop, spice, and Derek. She'd really missed him.

Before she completely lost her head, she pulled away. How close were they? She didn't feel like having a conversation with her mother on why they were making out in a New York cab. Plus today was about Derek. She looked over at him. He was smirking at her, but not out of malice.

"I'll behave, Princess," he promised. "For now." She rolled her eyes, hoping he was being facetious.

When they pulled up to the restaurant, Casey hastily detangled her fingers from his and scooted out of the door to hug her mother while Derek paid.

"Oh! Casey, it's so good to see you!" Her mom squeezed her shoulders. "How have you been? How's work? Are you seeing anyone?"

"Better grab that bag out of the trunk, Space Case, before he drives off with it," Derek called to her from the street. She glared at him.

"Could it kill you to have some chivalry, Derek?" He pretended to think for a pause.

"Yeah, probably," and walked away. Casey lunged at the cab to get her luggage.

George started to scold him, following his son into the restaurant. Nora shook her head.

"And some say five years have passed," she grinned.

"Well, the cab driver doesn't seem to have cemented his ears shut," Edwin said optimistically, hands in his pockets.

"We weren't sure whether or not he spoke English," Casey puffed, heaving her bag onto the curb and shaking her bangs out of her eyes. "He was pretty quiet."

"Derek or the cab guy?"

"A little bit of both. I was on the phone with my roommate," Casey hastily lied, "so, we didn't have talk."She turned her face away so no one would see her face and call her bluff. But it really wasn't a lie. They hadn't really talked. And she had called Mason. But not in the cab. She felt hot. She bit the insides of her cheeks and followed Edwin and Liz inside. "Where's Marti?" The thirteen-year-old was missing from the family gathering on the curb.

"Oh," Edwin turned and walked backwards to face Casey, "My mom took her for the day. They went into the city after Derek's name was called." He faced forward again. "Can't sit still, that girl." Lizzie punched his arm.

"That is a genetic feature of all of you, then," she laughed. "George's knee shook the whole row of seats." Casey smiled. The Venturis were a fidgety bunch.

"They're on their way back," Edwin sniffed, rubbing at his chin. "They're joining us for dinner."

"Did anyone warn the restaurant?" Casey asked, pulling out a chair. Her mother pointing stopped her from sitting.

"No, no, no. You two are not sitting across from each other," she scolded, gesturing between Casey and Derek. "I'm not having you kick each other under the table or yell across it in public." Casey hesitated, barely making eye contact with Derek. He was chewing a roll slowly, glancing between the two women, visibly perplexed.

"Okay," Casey said, slowly. She tucked the chair back under the table. "Where do you want me to go?"

"Well, you can't yell or kick across a table if there is not a table across which either of you sit." Derek raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"Derek, don't talk with your mouth full."

"Casey, don't boss people around."

Nora heaved a very audible sigh. "If you sit next to him, neither of you can kick. And you can argue in a civilized tone without engaging the whole table."

"You want me to sit next to him?" Casey pulled a face. Derek looked smug. He was chewing sloppily for her benefit and slung his arm over the chair she was to occupy.

"Be nice, Casey. This is Derek's party."

"Why can't he sit at the head of the table, then?"

"Because I'm already sitting, Miss Priss." Casey clenched her jaw. He knew how she felt about that name. He dropped her gaze and stuffed another piece of bread in his mouth, knowing he was in trouble.

"Please, Casey," Nora whispered, taking her own seat at George's elbow. Casey made another face but sat. Derek propped his elbows on the table and laced his fingers over his plate.

"So, where's mom?" He looked at George. George looked at his wrist, squinted at it, and then pulled out his phone.

"She's parking," he muttered, flipping his phone shut. "They'll be here in a minute."

"Pass the bread."

"Did she rent a car?"

"Can I get a menu down here?"

"Is there any water?"

"Of course she got a car. She likes to be the driver."

"Derek ate all of the rolls."

"Mom, can I order a pop?"

"Dad, can I order a beer?"

"Abby! Over here!"

The din of the chatter was normal for a restaurant setting. It was normal for her family, but Casey had the impression that this, as the first family dinner they were having in five years, was not going to be normal.

Casey was already on edge. Her mother had been pestering her about her social life for weeks. She'd been able to dodge questions when she knew they were coming; she'd been able to write down versions of responses and rearrange them in a statistically plausible conversational pattern. Because talking to her mother about Derek, or really, the way she felt about him, regardless of at whom it was directed. She was just starting her career; she didn't have a planned response for that conversation. So that conversation would have to wait.

Abby and George sat at opposite heads of the table and the meal progressed amicably. Marti, from Derek's other side, chatted about the tourist landmarks she'd seen that afternoon and made him promise to take her to see the rest because she'd be the envy of her whole class if she saw a show on Broadway. Edwin sat opposite Casey trying to talk to his mother and Liz about the hardships of the first year of school away from home.

"The worst part is the laundry!" he explained, "I never have anything that is cleaner than a few weeks on my floor."

"Ed, that's disgusting," Liz reprimanded him, reaching around for the giant salad bowl. "I've found time to wash stuff ever two weeks and take six classes both semesters."

"Yeah, well," he turned to her and rested his elbow on the table nearing flipping his dinner plate on to himself. Abby acted quickly; she knew her son. "I'm not related to Casey, so I don't have the nerd jean."

"Pity," Casey commented, swallowing a forkful of steamed vegetables, "Nerds get paid all the money." She glanced at him across the table. He'd narrowed his eyes at her, but Lizzie was grinning.

"Well, nerds and good looking people," Derek retaliated.

"Not always," Lizzie interjected, "This girl in my class is really pretty, but dumb as a rock."

"What would you call them, Case?" Derek nudged her.

"You?"

"No, Princess," he rolled his eyes, "the other ones. Hot and brainy. 'Statistically more likely to succeed,' right?" Casey made a face at him before facing forward. She felt her cheeks flush.

"Only if their looks don't interfere with their ability to properly interpret the word 'statistically' and use it in a sentence."

"Ah, but that would be statistically inconsistent," Edwin countered. She looked at him before Liz caught her eye. Their faces mirrored the mock shame at his use of 'big words.' They smiled together and Lizzie shook her head.

"Good effort, Ed," she encouraged. "I think you meant stereotypically inconsisten."

"I'll get you a word-of-the-day calendar for Christmas," Casey promised. Edwin looked put out, but they were able to chat comfortably.

When they had all finished, George stretched and told Derek he'd buy him a dessert for the special occasion.

"And all I got was a dinner mint when I graduated," Edwin pouted.

"This is more of a shock," Marti said, leaning over the table. "We knew you'd graduate high school."

"Ouch, Smarti, that hurts," Derek said, rubbing his chest like his heart hurt.

"The truth hurts," she told him.

Abby laughed and sat back in her chair with her glass of wine. "So will Ed's introduction to real college life." She eyed her youngest son. "The first year doesn't count." She lifted the glass to her lips.

"Is that why Derek took five years? The first didn't count?" Derek threw his napkin in Ed's direction before George, Nora, and Abby all intervened. They had all witnessed the stains from other items being thrown across a dinner table.

Casey grinned and finished the last sip of wine in her own glass. The family dynamic was certainly insane, but they were so comfortable with each other. She had almost forgotten how relaxed they could all be.

Derek's hand on her leg broke her out of her thoughts. She jumped, which made him jolt, too.

"Jeez, and you thought we were fidgety," Edwin laughed, elbowing Lizzie. Marti pointed her fork at Derek.

"That's how you spill things, Smer," she informed him, stabbing at her baked spaghetti calzone.

"Sorry," Casey stammered out, moving the tablecloth and looking at her feet. "I thought there was a bug on me." Derek gave her a weird look, but she refused to meet his gaze. He tried to catch her eye, but she involved herself in any other conversation. She didn't want to draw attention to them. Their immediately younger siblings had a habit of being aggressively suspicious.

When the waiter taking care of them left to get desert, Derek dropped his hands into his lap and lightly pinched her thigh under the table. She sharply turned her head. He gave her a look that clearly asked 'what with you?' she shook her head once, so slightly that someone would need to have been looking for it. 'Not here.' He pinched at her leg again, lighter, more affectionately.

"Stop," she whispered, swatting at him. She rearranged her place setting and smoothed her napkin over her lap. When Liz started talking of her plans for the next semester, Casey engrossed herself in the talk of going abroad. She didn't think Lizzie going to Mexico by herself for a semester sounded like a safe idea, and even went as far as mentioning environmental law. Anything. She knew something would happen if she engaged Derek's probing looks. She'd giggle or yell or worse. She did not want to do that here.

"What was that?" Casey sprang away from her bag open on the bed. She hadn't noticed him leaning against the doorframe to her room.

"God, Derek!" She put a hand over her heart. "Don't do that! You scared a year off my life!"

"Yeah, well," he shrugged, as if to say 'it happens.' He crossed his arms and stared at her. She fidgeted.

"What?"

"At dinner? What the hell was that about?" She didn't look at him and instead rooted around in her bag for her brush.

"What do you mean?" she asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Are you freaking out?" He knew her. She dropped her arms and looked at him. She knew he'd know if she lied.

"Well, yeah," she blurted. His eyebrows shot up. He probably was expecting her to fight him.

"Why?"

"You can't just," she stopped talking and walked to him. She tugged his sleeve to pull him into the room, checked the hallway for lurkers, and shut the door. "You can't just grope me at the dinner table with our family!" she whispered, walking around to keep the bed between them.

"I didn't grope you."

"You're mom was right there, Derek. You might as well have."

"Well, I'll keep that in mind for next time," he smirked, raising his eyebrows and taking a step closer to her.

"Der-rek," she scolded, stomping her foot. "I'm serious."

"Seriously freaking out," he muttered. She glared.

"Derek, you can't just grab my leg under the table during dinner," she explained, crossing her arms over her chest. He gave her a look.

"Why not? I've done it before and this is the first time you're yelling at me." Casey huffed and dropped her arms.

"That was with your team and that one dinner with Mason and what's-his-name."

"Yeah," he was clearly not following her. "So?"

"So, this is different, Derek."

"Why? Because my mom was there?"

"Because our whole family was there!"

"And that freaks you out?"

"Yes!" she threw her arms up. "Of course that freaks me out, Derek!"

"Why?"

Casey didn't answer him but stared, incredulous. Was he being serious? Because the last time she had checked, they were both participating in a relationship that neither of them should have even thought about, let alone acted upon. When Derek merely stared back at her, questioningly, she spoke.

"You're kidding, right? You know this," she gestured between them, "is weird and that it freaks me out."

"Still? Are you going to start labeling things again?"

"No, God, Derek," she ran her fingers through her hair. "This isn't the kind of thing we should be parading around."

"What?"

"You know what I'm saying! You know that we don't have a normal relationship. You know that what people think is really terrifying."

"No, Case, I don't. I don't really care what other people think."

"Including your mother?"

"She's kind of stuck with a genetic link for life, so," he shrugged, "she can take me or leave me." Casey stared open mouthed. He was so calm. Why did he get to be the calm on all of the time? When was it her turn to be the rational one? "Is your mom still bugging you about seeing someone?"

"Of course she is. She thinks she's being a concerned mother."

"Are you gonna be okay?"

"No, Derek, I'm really scared!"

"Of my mom?"

"No, not of your mom, but of what she thinks of us. And George. And my mom. And Liz. And Ed." She pinched the bridge of her nose. "It's a really daunting thought."

"Okay," he paused. "So, if we explained it to them—"

"NO," Casey practically shouted. She took a backward leap and slammed her legs into the room's heater. A tear slipped down her face. "No, no, this is not something of which we could explain our way out."

"Why?"

"Because of who we are! Because of who we're supposed to be to each other!"

"Jesus, Casey, I think they might understand that things just happen."

"No, they wouldn't. And you know it. We'd be condemning our own fate." She sighed roughly. "Maybe it'd be for the best?"

"Whoa, Case," Derek started, putting his hands up and backing away slightly. "Are you giving up on me?"

"I don't know, Derek. Maybe we should give up."

"I don't want to."

"I don't either, but I can't do that again, Der."

"Casey," he moved around the bed, "Casey, what they think really doesn't matter." She sniffed.

"It does to me." Her insecurity slipped out in a whisper. It was almost embarrassing. It was as if she were telling Derek he wasn't enough for her. But he was. He was; it was just that everyone else still mattered.

"Okay, hey," he brushed her hair behind her ear, "hey, it's okay. That's okay, it's fine."

"What's fine?"

"If you don't want to tell people, that's fine, I don't care."He held her face up to his, both of his palms against both of her cheeks.

"What?" Derek usually wasn't good with secrets.

"I don't care, Case. Tell people; don't tell people, it doesn't matter to me. I just want you to myself, okay?" She nodded. "I don't care how we're together, Princess. I just care that we're together."

She nearly burst into tears. He was so completely patient with her. It was beautiful. This boy who used to demand his own way and fight her to the bitter end had laid his heart out. It was amazingly and unexpectedly wonderful.

"Okay," she whispered. "Okay, let's be that. I can do that. I can do that much."

"Yeah?" She nodded again. "Okay." He bent and kissed her lightly. Her stomach leapt into her heart and he pulled away.

"Are you still going out tonight?" she asked, as he brushed the sides of her face with his fingertips.

"Yeah, a bunch of us are."

"Okay. Call if you need me, okay?"

"Okay," he nodded. He kissed her forehead lightly before moving away toward the door.

"Goodnight," she called after him, getting onto the bed without changing.

"Night, Case," he smirked. He pulled the door open and had nearly let it close when he stuck his head back in. "Oh, Princess," he smiled. "I couldn't give a flying fuck what's normal."

"Der-rek," she reprimanded through her clenched teeth. He laughed and let the door swing heavily shut.

"He wanted to tell people? I thought you said you didn't not tell people."

"We specifically did not tell our family. I mean, the thought of doing that would send me into hysterics. Everyone else just didn't know. It was something about which I'd trained myself to remain vague."

"Because you were scared?"

"It was a terrifying reality. It is one of those things where no excuse would be tolerable, and there is no honest explanation," Casey hung her head and picked at her nails. "I didn't thing I could handle it."

"Even with Derek?"

"Derek is so unpredictable. He was difficult to gage, and I never could guess what was going on in his head. If I would have let myself think we would face it together, there would always be that little voice that asked when he was going to change his mind."

"Wow," Emily sat back against her chair. "You were so morbid. Do you still think that?"

"Well," Casey laughed, "He's still unpredictable."

"But you did know it was a secret, the two of you?"

"Well, sort of," Casey qualified, "Just from the people to whom we were both related. Everyone else would just speculate or not know."

"Okay, so when I sent you an email asking if you were seeing anyone?"

"I just skipped over that part. It was habit to avoid the subject." Emily made a face. "I know. It was childish." Casey confessed.

"A little," Emily agreed, looking sympathetic.

"So, when the real world hit, it hit hard."

"What are we doing?" Casey leaned her elbows against the counter.

"Eating breakfast." Derek looked from his spoon to her. The summer break from the school year let him visit her more often than when either of them had been in school.

"No, not like that. I mean you and me. It's been a year, Der. What are we doing?"He looked slightly perplexed as he chewed his cereal.

"Well," he said, around his masticated carbohydrate, "We're, you know, making do."

"What?" She pushed away from the counter. He swallowed.

"We live two hours apart and we never see each other, but we've been doing it for a while now. It's kind of habit."

"Habit?"

"Yeah, we've kind of gotten used to it."

"Well, it's a stupid habit," Casey grumbled.

"So is chewing your fingers and yet that's still happening," he smirked.

"Shut up." She made a face at him as he spooned more milk-soaked corn flakes into his mouth. "What I meant," she paused, "is that we should be on the same page."

"Uh," he swallowed again, "Okay."

"I want to break the habit." He sat up, brows narrowed.

"You're ending it?"

"What? No!" Casey covered quickly. She understood how that sounded, especially given her tendency to freak out. "I just— I want to know if we have something here."

"Here? In Kingston?" Casey looked at him, gauging if he was playing dumb.

"I meant if we're going to call this something."

"Oh, Jesus, not the labeling again," Derek rolled his eyes as he stood. "Princess, we've been over this."

"No, we haven't," Casey countered. Derek interrupted.

"Yeah, Case, I don't do that."

"This isn't just about you anymore, Der."

"Please tell me more about how I'm not a part of this."

"God! Derek, listen to me for one second," Casey raised her voice and threw her arms up. He was more focused on not labeling than about the monumental risk she was taking with her heart. "I'm going to be selfish, Derek," she started. He scoffed and crossed his arms. He took a defensive posture and gestured for her to continue, ignoring her glare. She clenched her teeth. Maybe this was a bad idea. "Fine, Derek, never mind. It was something important, but you can be all self-righteous if you want."

"Thanks, Case, for your permission." He noticed her expression and dropped his stance. "Okay, I'm sorry, Princess." He walked over to her and put his palms on her upper arms. "I'm listening." She peeked up at him. "I promise."

"I just wanted to know if we wanted to do something that might be crazy."

"Okay," Derek agreed, hesitantly.

"Okay," she echoed. She took a breath. "You know how you are always upset about when I have to leave your apartment?" He gave a confused little smile. "And you tell me not to leave?"

"Yeah?"

"Okay, so, what if I didn't."

"Didn't what?"

"Didn't have to leave."

"My apartment? You'd go nuts and clean things."

"No, not," she shook her head and put a hand on his chest, "not like that. What if I didn't leave New York?"

"What are you going to do in New York?"

"Derek," she said, slowly and clearly. Sometimes talking to him was like pulling teeth. "Should I start looking to try to transfer?"

"Like your job?" He seemed confused as to why she'd even consider such a radical idea.

"Yeah?" She was extremely unsure of this idea now. It was stupid of her to even bring it up. She wished she would have just swallowed that notion. He wouldn't want her constantly around to argue or scream. And now he couldn't even pretend he didn't hear her to spare her feelings. It was a long moment before he said anything.

"You'd do that for me?"

It was not what she was expecting. He was supposed to ask why or laugh or back away. She shook her head, thinking perhaps she was in a fog.

"What?"

"You'd change offices to be closer to me?"

"Yeah?" He ran a hand through his hair. He looked a little stunned.

"Wow, Casey," he started. This was more what she was expected; him telling her it was too much too soon. "How," he swallowed. "How do I let you do that? How do I help?" Okay, so maybe she didn't understand what he was thinking in the slightest.

"I just have to put in a request to see if there is anything close," she said. And he enveloped her. He pulled her close to his chest and held her. His shirt smelled like fresh laundry and Derek. He wanted her closer. He wanted to see if he could help. He was okay that she wanted to be with him.

"Case," he pulled away, "I didn't think anyone would ever want—you know I'd do the same thing for you, right?"

"What? Of course," she touched his face. "I know."

"So, we're gonna give this a real shot?" He let a rare real grin creep onto his face. It was contagious. Casey felt her stomach flutter. She smiled back.

"Yeah, I think so."

Emily's shoulders were hunched over the table. She grasped her empty mug and bit her bottom lip.

"You were going to move in together?" she squealed.

"We were going to see if that was a possibility with our careers. We'd been in a commuting relationship for a year and a half. We were looking for something more adult and practical."

"More adult than long distance?"

"We wanted to grow up. And we wanted to try that together."

"So, you were going to move in together?" Emily insisted. Casey smiled. Emily was weirdly enthralled.

"We were going to try."

"So, what came of that?"

"I had options to transfer to Toronto and to New York City, but Derek was further west than the city. Then he got an interview over the holidays in Toronto and one in Ottawa the following spring."

"So, you had options." Emily concluded.

"We had options."

Options! Options are good, yes?

Just like happy family dinners, right? 2,000 points to guesses as to what happens there!

P.S. Reviews are the most wonderful Christmas present! (Or holiday present if you're not into Christmas)