A/N: Whew, what a couple of weeks...so sorry I haven't updated, break-ups tend to kill my ability to write anything that isn't emo and depressing and wow-I-want-to-jump-out-of-that-window stuff, but luckily this one was already written and just needed a little polishing. Thanks to my cousin for talking me down off the ledge a few times, you're the very best! Anyways, it's back to business as usual, so I will be starting to post regularly again, hopefully one a week at this rate.

So, to put this one in context, it's at the safe house, set during The Awakening and...yeah, I think that's all you need to know. Please read and review, and speaking of reviews, special thanks to: Jamie Kay Huntt, dimitriandrosehathaway, MorbidMandy, not-so-innocent011, EmoTacoFilling, moon-called-princess, Silverbird121, Aqua279 and cristal (I know, we totally needed some funny Derek. I've got more hilarity planned, just bear with me for another week or so!)

Disclaimer: Don't own Darkest Powers, don't make any money off of this, am not Kelley Armstrong. We clear?

I was hanging out in the formal living room, enjoying the peace and quiet when Derek ambled in. He hooked his thumbs in his pockets and wandered to the piano to inspect it, pressing one key and letting the sound trail off.

"You busy?" he asked, looking over his shoulder at me.

"Not for a bit."

"Want to go exploring?" A full stomach always seemed to perk him up, and I couldn't resist the tentative look he slanted my way. Hopping off the window seat, I tugged my jeans straight and nodded.

"Where to?"

He led the way, obviously already having decided where he wanted to look.

"The basement."

So, have I mentioned that I hate basements? This one was typical horror movie material, with creaky stairs that had no backing, so that the psycho killer could hamstring you as you came down. The walls were damp and stony and the lights flickered every once in a while as I eased down the stairs, following Derek.

"Any bodies?" I'd meant it as a joke, but he sniffed and then shook his head.

"All clear on the dead people."

"Dead animals?" I'd discovered that with him, it was best to be specific.

He looked briefly over his shoulder, giving me a hand down the last couple of semi-rotted steps. "Maybe a dead rat or two…or ten."

I took a shaky breath but stepped off the stairs onto the cement floor.

"Roger that. No summoning then."

We wandered around the perimeter of the basement first, Derek playing a flashlight over the walls and floor as we went. Nothing interesting came to light, just stacks upon stacks of boxes that had accumulated a solid inch of dust. I stopped in front of one extremely tall pile and stretched up on my toes to brush the dust aside, trying to read the smudged words.

"What are you looking at?" Derek was a few feet away, stooping to read a label on another couple of boxes.

"I dunno, but it looks interesting." I reached for the box, balancing precariously on my toes. He looked over and straightened.

"Here, let me-"

The box stuck a little, so I put some muscle into my yank and it slid free, but I teetered and the whole stack began to topple towards me.

"Oomph!"

Looking around a little dazed, wondering who had said that, I realized it had been the air rushing out of my lungs as Derek tackled me to the floor. The huge pile of boxes towered in a pyramid over us, pinning him on top of me, where he'd thrown himself to keep me from getting crushed.

We stared stupidly at each other for a second, then I began to panic, worried about his spine and his legs which had taken the impact of over a dozen weighty boxes. Bracing my hands against his chest I started wriggling free, words spilling out as I clawed awkwardly at the ground.

"Oh, my God. Derek, are you ok?"

"Stop moving," he hissed in my ear. I ignored him and continued fighting against his weight, hoping that if I could get myself out from under him I'd be able to get the fallen boxes off of his lower body. But Derek was heavy and those damn boxes were heavier and no matter how much I struggled, I couldn't do more than shift myself around from side to side.

Derek had lapsed into some incoherent mumbling, so I was pretty surprised when he grabbed onto either side of my head with his hands, staring at me imploring.

"Chloe, please, you've got to stop," he gasped, and I realized he might be hurt and my moving might be making it worse. Number one rule of spinal traumas, I recited to myself, do NOT move the victim until you have a backboard.

"Are you ok? Are you hurt?" I asked in a rush, craning to the side to see if any of the boxes had landed directly on his spine. We needed some help. He didn't answer, so I asked him again, panic making my voice rise. "Derek? Are you ok?"

"I'm not hurt," was all he said. I sighed with relief and realized that if I braced my heels, I might be able to scoot myself out from under him. "I said no. I mean it, Chloe. Don't even think about it."

If we hadn't been stuck, I would have laughed at the way his voice rose. Instead, I glared at him, his face so close I could barely focus my eyes. What was his problem?

I decided to ignore him and when I pushed from my heels I managed to slide up a few inches, my face now almost level with his. I squirmed a bit but realized that I had moved as much as I could. Derek swore softly near my ear and I frowned at him even as I was impressed by the creative way he had for stringing words together. I tried one more time to get free and managed one more little shift just as he tried to twist away from me and as our bodies aligned like two puzzle pieces fitting into place, I realized why he had been asking me to stop.

I have never been so grateful for darkness in my life. I'm sure my face was glowing like a beacon and I was fighting the most ridiculous urge to giggle hysterically like my friends and I had used to do – ok, fine, still did – every time a teacher talked about Homo Erectus.

"Are you going to stop moving now?" he asked, his voice husky with frustration.

Not trusting myself to not start stuttering wildly, I just nodded, knowing he could see me in the dim light. His forearms were braced on either side of my head and he dropped his head down onto one of them, his breathing a little uneven.

"Jesus Christ, Chloe. Don't you ever listen?"

We just stayed like that for a few moments. Now that I knew why he had been telling me to stop moving, I had no intention of so much as flexing my foot unless he asked me to. Eventually he lifted his head and I felt his muscles tense as he tried to move. No luck. He sighed in defeat.

I looked around the basement, at the stack of boxes I had managed to bring down on us. I had to agree with that sentiment.

"You ok?" he asked.

"I'm ok."

Footsteps echoed in the hall overhead. "Do I look like a messenger?" I heard Tori gripe as she stomped through the hall. "Chloe!" she bellowed, "Where are you? You're late to meet Margaret!"

"Tori? Tori! We're stuck in the basement," I hollered back, wincing in apology as Derek recoiled with a hiss after I yelled right in his ear. Tori was my last choice to come and help us right now, especially considering our…interesting position, but it's not like I had a whole selection of saviours to choose from.

Her footsteps thud-thudded down the basement stairs and I hiked my head up to peer over Derek's shoulder as she spotted us under the boxes.

"Wow," she chuckled, ambling over. "This is really too good to be true."

"It's not what it looks like," I hurried to say. Derek rolled his eyes and I remembered that he hadn't bothered saying anything about the crawlspace or hallway incidents either.

Her little grin was little too knowing for my taste. "No, of course not. Maybe I should just head back and send Simon to come and rescue you," she said thoughtfully, taking a couple of steps back towards the stairs.

"You could, but it'd be the last thing you do before running for your life," Derek said evenly, his eyes narrowed. Her grin didn't falter, but she sighed in defeat and came back willingly enough.

"Yeah, yeah, tear me limb from limb," she added, tugging at the top-most box that was jammed worse than the others. "I was just offering not to ruin your fun."

She pulled that one box free, and that was all it took to make a difference for Derek. He heaved upwards and the constraining boxes fell harmlessly to the sides. He stayed just long enough to help me up and then he disappeared up the stairs like the hounds of hell were after him.

Tori looked at me appraisingly. "So what was that all about?" she asked.

"Why does everyone think there's something going on?" I asked plaintively, brushing dirt off my jeans. She snorted and plucked a cobweb off my shoulder.

"Honestly. You're really don't get it, do you?"

But the problem was that I did get it, I just hadn't figured out what to do with it yet…