A/N: Instead of working on my chaptered fic, Deliverance, or resting up for my ten-hour shift at work tomorrow, I wrote this. I'm not quite sure I like the ending, but eh, whatev. I guess it all depends on how you guys like it.

Disclaimer: Own nothing.

"The snow was more lonely than cold if you know what I mean
Everyone's got an agenda
Don't stop keep that chin up you'll be alright
Can you believe what a year it's been
Are you still the same?"

I Don't Know You Anymore - Savage Garden

Happiness Not Included

"You look happy, Case."

It was meant as nothing. An off-the-wall comment used as a filler for awkward conversation around the dinner table. Only Casey could sense the bitterness, the sarcasm and the mocking in his tone. What another great start to their family's annual Christmas dinner.

Casey's body tensed on instinct.

As always, Derek Venturi could craw under her skin with just the simplest of sentences.

She had to make herself deny the fact that he was right. She had to deny that he could effortlessly pick through her practiced bullshit. She had to deny that he knew her that well.

"I am. I have everything I ever wanted."

The falseness of her own words threatened to drown her. She felt her husband grasp her hand, squeezing as if to say, Good answer, sweetie. She squeezed it back automatically. She forced a smile to pass over her strained lips. Her dull eyes focused on Derek's amused ones. He smirked easily.

"I'm sure you do."

Sarcasm-laced disappointment. Awkward glances between the two. Her heart beat quickened. His eyes were screaming at her, but she looked down at her and her husband's interlaced fingers.

She twisted his tone around to his usual boredom. Lack of interest in her well organized life. She denied his pointed look and cut her slice of ham into tiny, equal, square-sized bites.

Casey lived in denial. In fact, she bought a house there. A two-story, mansion-sized home right smack in the middle of suburbia. She had her white picket-fence. Plenty of living space for her future two-point-five kids. A mid-sized vehicle ready and waiting for soccer practice and 4-H club.

She even owned a ruffled apron, yellow-white checkers. Kiss the Cook embroidered and everything. Derek bought it for her two birthdays ago.

She was house-wife, model 2.0. No assembly required. Batteries not included.

Her husband, the lawyer. Perfect hair, perfect teeth. Perfect match. Said all the right words, did all the right things. They didn't fight, she didn't cry, he didn't cheat. They were functional.

Derek didn't grasp that concept. Order. Predictability. Perfection.

He lived in a chaotic mix of blonde-headed bimbos, all copper coated skin and silicone breasts, and daily, caffeinated pick-me-ups to fend off the aftereffects of his two best friends, Jack and José.

So she didn't expect him to understand.

Happiness had nothing to do with it. It was all about functionality.

She ignored his incessant gaze. Tried to brush off the discomfort she was feeling. But as it usually went, she could never ignore Derek for long.

She waited until Lawyer Husband fell asleep, a respectful two feet away, in her old bed, before tip-toeing across the hall. She was met with an empty room. Expect for a suspiciously laid out leather jacket. Pulling it on, she headed downstairs. She knew he was waiting.

She found him on the back patio, clouds of grey pooling around his lips from the filtered cigarette he puffed on. She sat in the empty chair next to him. They were both hesitant to speak, strangely comfortable with the tentative silence.

The snow was cold, but Casey felt a little warmer snuggled in the old, tattered jacket.

"How've you been, Derek?"

It was soft, polite. Small talk. He laughed. Her eyebrows quirked in confusion.

"What's so funny?"

And without even speaking, Derek had managed to push himself back to his permanent place under her skin.

"Since when do we do pleasantries?"

She pulled her arms around her chest in a childish manner, a small pout crossing her lips.

"Just thought I'd try to be polite."

It sounded stupid, even to her ears.

"Since when do we do polite?"

She blushed at that, for reasons unknown to herself. But she refused to give in to him, so she turned her face away from him, staring intently out at the backyard. She heard him let out a loud breath, but still wouldn't turn back to look at him.

"Casey, what's happened to you?"

The question made her head snap around, a glare etched on her face, her denial locked, loaded, and ready. But his eyes held no mocking, no amusement. Just sadness and pure curiousness. Her breath faltered and every biting comeback she held on her tongue fell uselessly back down her throat.

"What do you mean?"

Her voice squeaked and she felt her body shiver as he leaned toward her in his chair.

"You know exactly what I mean."

It wasn't accusatory, just plaintive. Defeated.

He looked fifteen again and she had to wonder what happened to both of them in the past nine years. Her words died on her tongue. Every proclamation of regret and frustration going unvoiced as her mouth closed up. He sat, tilted toward her, expectant.

Instinct took over, and she leaned forward, closing the distance between them. If Derek was shocked, he didn't let it show. He pushed himself into her with as much force as he could. All of the want, the need, the anger, flowing through their lips and tongues as they sat outside of their childhood home entangled in each other.

She was the first to pull away, eyes still closed as her hand moved to her lips. She wondered when breathing became so hard. And in that moment, she knew how she had changed. How her life had spiraled into the dissatisfaction she was now accustomed to.

But before she could voice this to him, his mouth got in the way of everything.

"I never pegged you for the cheating type, Case."

And just like that, the moment was gone. Her eyes shot open and her ever-present glare was back. She stood with vigor, yanking the jacket off of her body, and threw it at him with as much hatred as she pretended she felt.

"You such an ass, Derek. I'm married and you're…you're an ass! I am happy. I am damn happy and I have a good life."

"They why did you kiss me?"

She stopped her pacing, finally noticing just how cold it was outside. A tremor raced through her. The fight drained from her, tears rising up, threatening to choke her.

"I'm tired. I'm going to bed."

The words were strangled, and she couldn't meet Derek's eyes.

"Back to your husband."

His tone was more frigid than the winter air. And she still could look at him. She didn't answer, just turned on her heel and walked back inside. Her head was spinning and she felt a few tears slide down her cheek.

Before she reached the stairs, she felt a cold hand wrap around the crook of her elbow and she was twisted around to see a red-faced Derek. His face held no surprise when he noticed her tears. The sadness returned and she had to look away before the heaviness of his look overwhelmed her.

"Casey…"

This time his voice was laced in pity and Casey pulled away, ashamed. She looks up at him, her eyes wide as if she was having an epiphany.

"I'm not happy."

And maybe she was having one.

He just nodded knowingly, because it's Derek and he's always known when it came to her. And he's leaning down again, expectantly. She knew that he was waiting for her. That if he didn't, and things went wrong, she'd end up blaming him. Like she always did.

She felt her body tingle and her arms move to circle his neck. Her body froze when the sparkle of a diamond caught her eye. She stared at the ring on her left finger for a moment before she dropped her hands to her side and back away from Derek.

He looked hurt, angry, but mostly, shocked.

"Casey…"

"Goodnight, Derek."

For the second time that night, she walked away from him. And for the first time, he didn't follow.

Crawling into her old bed, she looked at her husband and felt her heart clench in her chest. Suddenly, his hair didn't look so perfect. His teeth were slightly crooked in the front. His hand seemed too big for hers.

He let out a loud snore and she closed her eyes. Snuggling back under the covers, she settled back into functionality, denying, yet again, that happiness was not what she wanted.

She denied the feeling of Derek's lips. She denied how right it felt wearing his jacket.

Because Casey lived in denial. She bought a house there.

Fin

R&R, please!