A/N: I. AM. SO. INCREDIBLY. SORRY! This next chapter is long (as in LONG) overdue. I have been busy with personal commitments so I didn't have the time to do this. And also, I haven't really been feeling the "writing" mood, until now. Sometimes, still in spurts. I just want to take this time to thank all of my past readers and subscribers (and people who have put this in their favorites). Hopefully this doesn't disappoint. Forgive me, it's been a long time! :)

P.S. This is still dedicated to DerekVenturi and LifeWithCasey on Twitter! I haven't seen them tweet in a long time. Although, I guess because I don't go on my Twitter account that much, too. Haha.

Disclaimer: I do not own LwD or any of the TMs and registered TMs here.

Chapter 9: The Shark and the Fisherman

"Hey, handsome."

"Hey, yourself."

Casey couldn't see much of what was going on outside. She was already seated and all buckled up in front, Marti lying in the back seat, but Derek was still outside talking to someone. She couldn't exactly make out who the person was but there were two definite traits that caught her eye - she's a girl, and she's blonde. There was something in her that wanted to draw a little closer to the driver's seat so that she could have a better look or a better hearing of the ongoing conversation, but she still succeeded in restraining herself. The couple were too far back on the other side that she knew it would be impossible to catch even a syllable of their words even if her ears were already glued to the driver's window. She chose to use the mirrors instead to follow their movements closely with her eyes. Not that she was stalking, or anything. Of course, I wasn't! Just... curious. For a moment, she thought that the day would end pleasantly, but with what was currently happening, she realized that she might have concluded too soon. With a defeated sigh, she let her head land on the headrest, but without taking an eye off of the two.

The parking lot lights were too dim to aid in her attempt to lip read. Why couldn't they form their words with their lips properly so I could understand? She was beginning to get irritated. They were taking a little too long and she wanted to go home before dinner; at this rate, they wouldn't be back until midnight. But then of course, she just wasn't comfortable in seeing his skirt-chasing antics in person. But she couldn't help but spy. Or be curious. She wanted to step outside and remind him that there's a stepsister and a sister waiting for him in the car. Maybe his little brain in his big head disappeared altogether and he forgot the existence of the world. Why don't they just rent a space shuttle, zoom to the moon, and have a dinner date? Then maybe they would do us, earthlings, a favor and we'll finally have world peace! She continued to shift in her seat, bending her back a little in order to have a better look at the driver's side mirror. Judging from what she was seeing, they were having a good time - Derek was smiling while she went on with her animated blabbering, occasionally giving him a gentle hit on his arm. Rolling her eyes, Casey did a mock imitation of her actions and then stuck out her tongue in disgust.

'Hey, handsome.' Psh, who starts a conversation like that? However, her little mocking stopped as her mind flashed back to when she tried to imitate Derek's charming service during her working days at the Smelly Nellie's. She found herself facepalming and groaning after humiliation crept back in in remembrance of saying something similar - not to a guy, but to a lady. She was only brought back to reality when she caught a glimpse of the girl giving Derek a kiss on his cheek, and he was thoroughly enjoying it! Pig. She rolled her eyes (for the nth time) and pursed her lips, as the cause of her displeasure finally went on his way back to the car.

"Who was that?" Casey immediately exclaimed before Derek could even land his behind on his seat. He was put in an awkward position, with his one feet firmly set on the car floor mat, and the other still outside waiting to be let in.

"You know, there is a right time for everything. Like waiting for me to settle in before talking to me and asking me questions?" He mentioned after finally sitting comfortably, facing her, head tilted slightly to the right and eyebrows raised. She couldn't respond with anything but a roll of eyes, a flushed cheek, and a head twist towards the right side window so that he wouldn't notice. The last thing she ever needed was to be embarrassed for her being embarrassed.

Seeing as she wouldn't give a sassy retort, he merely shrugged and started the ignition, "Don't know. I recognize her from somewhere, probably a Smelly Nellie's patron."

She quickly turned her entire upper body to face him, making him cover his face with his right hand for defense, seeing as she looked like Xena the Warrior Princess ready to pound her to the next millennium, "You let random bimbos give you a peck on your cheek even without knowing their names first?"

The words came out loudly enough that the little girl in the backseat began to move. Being aware of this, it was Derek's turn to give her the glare, which made her huff and focus her eyes on the front window before mouthing an apology. Although, instead of dismissing the situation quickly, he continued staring at her, not in a pushing dagger kind of way, but as one who thoroughly inspects and peruses. A smirk formed across his lips as he pulled out of the stall, all the while slightly eyeing her with his periphery.

"Well, Ms. Peepy McPeeperson, it's all in a day's work. And just to clarify, she's not a random bimbo, she's a blonde bombshell. Note the difference."

He freed his right hand from the wheel and positioned it in front of Casey's face, "Bimbo, eh. Bombshell, yeah." Doing a thumbs down and a thumbs up to demonstrate, respectively.

She fended off his hand from her line of vision before diverting her gaze to the side of the road and resting her head on the window beside her.

"And I thought you would be different by now. I guess, once a cad, always a cad."

Casey spoke with much repulsion and disgust that it made the atmosphere inside the vehicle gloomy and tense. She was so annoyed, hurt, confused, all-mixed-up that these feelings decided to wrap themselves up in a tight bunch of words and shoot to kill. Although, she was half expecting him to give a smart back talk, her anger and pride kept her mum and almost indifferent. He did not respond. A part of her wanted to be alarmed, but it wasn't enough to care at the moment. She failed to notice the look of sadness creeping across Derek's face since her own glum eyes stayed fixed somewhere else away from him.

As tense as the earlier ride to the mall had been, the ride home was not very different. Although, it wasn't the kind that one would expect between the two older stepsiblings. It was completely quiet and soundless, as if the words were no more, and there was nothing left to describe their declaration of the impossibility of their co-existence. No remarks, no retorts, no back talks, no words. It was a half hour drive that had lasted without arguing over menial things such as speed or choice of music. Granted that over the course of time and the inevitability of his influence, Casey was becoming somehow more tolerant of the latter, normally, she always had something to say and Derek always had something to grumble about. Tonight was different, but it wasn't exactly a pleasant kind of different. It was just plain off. He was lightly tapping on the wheel as he drove, obviously in a pensive state, while she leaned against the window beside her – confused, internally agitated, mind roaming elsewhere. If one should be staring from the outside, one could be fooled by this seemingly normal, peaceful trance. However, the only genuinely peaceful sight to behold is Marti sleeping in the backseat.

He didn't even eat dinner. No, Derek proceeded upstairs after placing down Sleeping Marti on the couch. Two words – 'Not hungry' – and he had disappeared almost in an instant into his room. He had received a couple of 'huh's', 'what's', and pairs of eyes following his footsteps, but no one took it rather gravely and again, he was left to his own devices. No one, except Casey. She hardly finished her food, making it seem almost untouched. The anger that she felt earlier that afternoon had completely faded away and the void was replaced by worry - worry mixed with confusion, topped off with a thousand questions, and a tinge of guilt. Why guilt? It wasn't like what she said wasn't true, right? He deserved to be put in place. He deserved to be smacked with the reality of his nature. He deserved every pain and hurt for what he was doing to me! Yes! No. She didn't feel any satisfaction for what she had done. But what did I do? The odd sensation coming from her fingers intertwined with the 'knotting' in her stomach, leaving her unable to take on another bite. I just said what needed to be said.

"Not hungry", she mirrored Derek's words. But these same words did not receive the same lack of sentiment; in fact, the rest of the occupants of the table looked at each other and wondered. But before they could interrogate her, she took off and went dashing upstairs.

She had no time for inquiries. Not that she would have the ability to coherently form explanations, granted that she, herself, was finding everything extremely confusing. Her mind wandered back to when they were enjoying their time at the mall, and how it was not the doomsday that she had expected. She recalled every detail, every place they had ever set foot on - the Swarovski store, the restaurant, the cinema. The bookstore, how Marti looked so secure yet gently held in the arms of Derek, and how they exited the mall together, hands clasped. Then there it was again, that heartbeat that seemed to come from her palms, creating waves rushing to her fingertips and swooshing back fast into her system until they reach her heart. She gulped at the thought of them appearing like a family and reached out to feel the loud beating above her chest as she remembered him and how he stopped her from speaking with Matthew. Matthew. But what about that girl? And how he seemed to parade the bimbo's features in her face? The once peaceful hold she had on her shirt was replaced with a tight grasp as the fabric gathered under her fist. Were her emotions just toying with her? Was she letting him toy with her emotions? Was she toying with her emotions? Didn't he imply that he only saw her as a sister? Stepsister? But what about the hints? Was she reading the hints right? Were there any hints at all? How could he hit on someone in her presence? Ugh! I don't understand! She brought both her hands to the side of her head, feeling a headache coming from all the thinking. It was a surprise that she hadn't gone completely mental by now, but she's almost on the verge of it.

And then she found herself there once again, in front of his door. It should've looked quite common to her right now. If anything, it should induce annoyance and comfort – the second because it is the second greatest divider between her and the dreaded place, first being the wall in the middle of their rooms; and the first, because it is also the portal to the underworld – that is Derek's haven. But tonight, it was a different sight; not that it changed, but it's just different. And there was no first or second, only one – fear. Fear of being brought back to the start where she should've been all along, which could've been a good thing; however, her unrequited feelings would mock her forever. But it wouldn't stop her. She couldn't back out now. Either she would die from being eternally confused, or she would die from a heartbreak - it didn't matter anymore, same ending. Standing in front of his door, feeling slightly light-headed, she decided she would proceed. She was going to settle this once and for all.

He was not even thinking about it. Here he was, Derek, King of the Racing Track, running 3672819273 plus some gazillion mph and staying ahead of his game - owning it, as he would say - and there was no one to stop him. He was gripping the wheel as tight as he could, eyes focused on the monitor, grinning like a maniac, and completely oblivious of anything that had nothing to do with the race. The final lap was well within reach, the last struggle of the battle, and he was determined to take the prize, even if the universe collapsed on him tonight.

"Eat my winning dirt, losers!"

His diabolical laughter infiltrated the entire room, bouncing off the walls, and jumping back into his ears to much of his pleasure. The sounds coming off from the headphones were not as loud as he usually keeps it, but it was almost as if he were right there in the flesh on the track, hearing the reverberating zooming of his engine, feeling and mocking the friction of the road that he declared wouldn't stop him, and basking in the cheering of the crowd whom he would be gracing with his presence once he finished feeding his opponents their only food for the day.

He could almost hear it, the screams, the cheers; he could see the "Venturi is #1" signs near the finish line. The finish line. The sweetest place in all of solar system at this moment in time. And it's all for him, all for him! The other cars were nowhere in sight, not even close to where he currently was up at front. The faded and blurry lines were coming into focus and he could see his destiny, he could see the bold white line and the beautifully squared black and white tiles of paint right next to it. This was it, the moment of truth. Sweet, sweet victory within reach!

Almost.

Closer.

It was becoming more evident. The faces were starting to become clearer; he could see a very attractive lady waiting for him at the very end that especially caught his attention.

Almost there.

Someone slim, blonde - no, brunette - carrying a sign - no, a mallet - no, a pitchfork?

Yes. Yes!

"Ahhhhhh!"

Derek yelled his lungs out in horror as he jolted, hit his knee under the table, and almost sent the entire computer system crashing on the floor when Casey suddenly swung the door open. Luckily, he got a hold of the monitor and the racing wheel and prevented them from falling. He quickly set them straight on the desk, caressed the 'poor things', and shot a menacing glare at the culprit. Although, he wasn't exactly sure what she was a culprit of. Nevertheless, she almost took his computer's life!

"What gives? You just cost me a gold trophy and a place at the winner's circle!"

But there was no reply from the other end of the conversation line, not even a single word from the trespasser. Normally, this would make him tick and he would force the intruder out of his lair with all the strength he had - expect for Marti, and maybe his dad, or his mom, or Nora, or Lizzie (he doesn't need to, she would pretty much walk out on her own). But this was strangely making him squirm. There was something in her aura that was telling him that the next few minutes of his life wouldn't be normal. Maybe this was the best time to write a will. If I die, I will leave a good portion of my belongings to Marti, my leather jacket to Edwin, my dirty socks to Nora, my collection of -

He shook his head to bring him back to reality; she was still standing there, almost ghost-like, probably as pale as he was at that moment. Both of their chests heaved heavily, almost synchronously. He was slightly confused as to what was going on with her, yet he couldn't bring himself to ask her directly. His wincing and obvious discomfort would have been an amusing sight for Casey, however, she showed no sign of gratification, not even a hint of a smile or a sly smirk. She just continued to stare at him intently.

"I think I have a door there somewhere. Would you like to knock?"

Derek spoke, keeping his eyes down and pretending to be busy fixing the mess he created, secretly hoping that his sarcasm would revert her to her usual self, that she would give him her dose of back talks and all would be well in the world. Instead, he was greeted with yet another minute of silence. Long, excruciating moment of silence. Although he dared not meet her gaze, he could feel it piercing through his skin. No matter how hard he stared at the monitor of his computer, he could not ignore the tension that was permeating throughout the entire room and making him shrink, as if the walls were closing in on him and squeezing the lungs out of his system. The awkwardness was only somewhat broken when Casey started to move from her spot, closer towards his desk, after shutting the door behind her. And then, the silence continued.

"What do you want?" He broke the icy stillness with his deep voice, almost croaking due to his hesitation to utter another sentence.

"What are you doing?" Casey responded immediately, raising her voice almost right after he mouthed the last word.

"Uh," his heart pounded. How could a simple question make his mind pitch-black? Not that he had any anymore, since it probably left his system together with his lungs.

"... playing... video games?" He continued hesitantly.

"I am not in the mood for jokes, Venturi."

"Who says I'm joking? I really am pla-"

"Derek!" Casey shrieked in frustration.

"What? You just barged into my room and asked me what I was doing. I gave you an answer," he said in a matter-of-factly kind of tone.

Now, this was giving him slight comfort – they're back to bickering and he knew how to handle this game. He took a seat and assumed his former place in front of the computer. Grabbing his headphones from the desk and placing it snugly on his head to cover his ears, he met her eyes and gave her a sly, half-smile.

"Now, what else do you want me to do for you, your highness?"

"Are you really this incredibly dense?" She retorted, clearly starting to get frustrated. Hurriedly, she strode closer and yanked the hearing device from his head.

"Hey!" Derek rubbed his ears which throbbed a little from the friction that the sudden removal had caused. "Okay, you know what, come back later when you make more sense and become less cryptic. Or better yet, never."

Casey felt as if she was being seeped of all her strength. She had never thought that she would be in a situation like this. How could she be full of hatred yet full of caring for him at the same time? And yet, that was exactly the problem. She was too full, and she had maxed her capacity out. She leaned herself against the table, wondering if she should just cry it all out then and there, not caring if anyone would see her – not even caring if Derek would see her. Yet, no tears, no tears coming out from her ducts at all. Had she been all cried out?

Silence was her way of gathering her thoughts, weighing her feelings, and hopefully getting him to speak something, something that would make her understand their situation. But what did she expect from Derek? It didn't even seem like it was bothering him the way it had been affecting her. And here she thought that he was actually upset about something her words had slapped unto his face earlier. How many times had she been wrong today? Oh yeah, maybe too many times that she would have enough wrongs to last her a lifetime.

"Well, this has been sufficiently awkward for tonight. Thank you for dropping by," he proceeded to avert his stare to the monitor as his hands found his keyboard, then started pressing buttons to type words.

This was exhausting. Bickering could really be exhausting. Fighting could really be very exhausting. And she had no will remaining to keep the quarrel going. Everything inside her wanted to dash to the comfort of the adjacent room, to hopefully get a good enough sleep that could make her forget the same way he had been forgetting everything. That would've been really nice; unfortunately, her body was betraying her sense.

"Derek... just. I need you to tell me..."

She lifted her hand and gently placed it on top of his. He could feel something whizzing along the growth of his skin hair. It was like being given a shock of electricity that rapidly moved from his hands to his spine and to the rest of his body. Suddenly, everything came back. The feeling of her hand against his, the softness of her skin. All these things that he was trying to forget came back in a blink of an eye as her palm rested on his right hand, stopping him from moving it an inch more, stopping him from moving an inch more. Who would've thought that a little touch could make him feel weak? That someone's gentleness could make him feel helpless? Not helpless in a way that Sally made him feel with her nagging, but in a way that, even without force, he could willingly oblige. His heart was pounding hard, his vision slightly blurred as buried thoughts rushed right back from their captivity into their rightful places.

"What are you doing," there was firmness in her voice, as if she weren't merely asking a simple question but commanding an answer; yet there was a sense of tranquility imparted, of assurance that if truth be told, it would lead to something good.

Right there and then, he knew what she was asking about. He knew exactly what she was talking about.

"I don't know."

"You don't know?" Casey hastily removed her hand from his as fast as she had uttered the words.

She looked at him, who was still sitting almost motionlessly with fist curled up atop his keyboard, with such disappointment. Her chest heaved heavily, and she was beginning to pant, as the tension inside her grew stronger. She did not know what to do anymore or what to say. Looking across the other side of the room for just a moment to gather her thoughts, she let her hand run through her hair as she breathed heavily. No, it was not the time to be silent. Nothing would be resolved if she would let her unruly emotions overtake her. It isn't like she had enough energy to handle any argument. Maybe, just maybe, she thought, if he were to be slowly guided to the right path by asking simple but direct questions, he would arrive at an understandable confession. Taking in a deep breath, she turned her head to face him once more.

"Why... why did you stop me from talking to Matthew?"

"That wasn't me. That was Marti."

"Oh, so, you played along because Marti conveniently started it?" She couldn't help but raise her voice in frustration.

"Force of pranking habit."

Unbelievable! That was it. She was getting tired of the back-and-forth nonsense; it was just not worth it anymore. That's what she kept on telling herself. Why am I subjecting myself to this kind of pain, confusion, and humiliation? I'm done. That was the final draw, she had finally concluded that Derek was incapable of having feelings and that whatever it was that she thought was there, it was only a figment of her imagination. Derek never cared for her the way she did, the way she always did. It was a hopeless case from the start and she had let herself dive in too deep because of hope, because of stupid hope that maybe it would turn out differently.

"A woman's imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony in a moment." Casey faced away from him and advanced quickly towards the door as she remembered Jane Austen's words. She was right all along; all of these things were just in her mind. She let it consume herself too much. In the end, it really was nothing. Nothing at all. She quickly blinked her eyes to clear up the tears that were gathering and threatening to flow.

Derek stood up swiftly just as he felt Casey turning her back from him and proceeding to leave. He rushed towards the door, reaching it just as she had opened it ajar, and pushed it shut, causing her to step back a little to gain balance as she tried to restore herself from her startled appearance. They remained in that position for a few seconds, gasping for air, with his palm resting firmly against the wooden door to keep her from leaving. And they waited. Waited for someone to speak. But nothing but heavy sighs came from Derek and Casey was too tired to argue. And just as he had begun to open his mouth to finally speak, she directed her attention from his eyes to the floor, failing to acknowledge that he was about to say something.

"C-," he softly started.

"I'm calling Emily. She'd explain everything to Matthew," she blurted, interrupting him unintentionally.

Derek eyebrows scrunched, "What?"

"I'm going out with him again if he asks me."

He could feel his jaws tighten, whether voluntarily or involuntarily, he clearly didn't care. That person's name kept ringing in his ears and banging the insides of his head. It was taking all of his might to stop him from hitting the wall or overturning his desk. And his extra energy to stop him from telling her that.. from telling her that. Just, ugh! The brewing irritation inside of him made him grunt loudly as he hastily took his hold off of the wooden door, placed both his hands over his head, and paced back and forth.

"Okay, I don't know why you keep on bringing this up! 'Matthew this, Matthew that'! Seriously, what's so great about this guy? What, did you finally find your 'Fish Charming'?" He yelled quite loudly that it alarmed the three people still present downstairs; good thing it wasn't enough to unsettle the 'rents in the basement.

"No. I don't even care about finding him anymore. I'll settle for the tuna if I have to," Casey turned the knob for the second time and opened the door to leave, but he caught on and slammed it shut with his hand once more.

"Why would you go for the tuna if your bait is for a shark!"

"Who says my bait is for a shark?"

He stood frozen in his spot at the realization of his implication. He mentally slapped himself for letting his thoughts run as rampantly as his mouth, almost as recklessly as his driving. He could've sworn it was just hypothetical, but then of course, it really wasn't. Now, all he needed to hope for was that she didn't catch on that quickly.

"Maybe because sharks never seem to take the bait, anyway. Maybe the tuna will be less of a picky eater," she added in a faint whisper.

Her words were probably meant to be uttered for her own hearing, but he heard them clearly and understood perfectly. It was like a hundred pins pricking his skin, not in a good way like acupuncture, but they were puncturing him, alright. His anger turned into pain, his eyes mirroring his feelings. He took a large gulp and squinted his eyes as he gathered some courage to speak.

"It's j-"

All of a sudden, they were distracted by a mixture of sound and vibration coming from Casey's pocket. Her cellphone was ringing. She reached inside her pocket and took it out to answer it, but Derek quickly snatched it from her hand and cancelled the call. Amidst her glaring look, he inched a little closer so that he was a hair's breadth away from her.

"Sharks..." he started, feeling his heartbeat quicken by the second, and somehow still unable to set his eyes directly towards hers, "... are afraid to take baits, because... they don't know what would happen. With preys... it's usually a no-brainer."

Casey raised an eyebrow and gave him a sharp look. Was that a confession to being a skirt-chasing cad? Not that he was too keen on concealing it. But what does she know? Guys' minds are as complicated as girls'. Especially Derek's. No matter how intelligent she was, it wasn't always enough to read his mind. No amount of A's and A+'s could help her decipher the labyrinth of a mind that is of Derek's.

"Uh... well, you know... chase and eat."

Yeah, real smooth, D. Derek huffed and groaned inwardly, breaking his stare from her. This is why he hates girl confrontation; it's just not his thing. It isn't something that you can wing, like a test, or avoid, like a plague. I guess you can, but not forever. He looked back and gave her a half smile, but she was obviously not budging or lightening up. Letting out a sigh, he placed his right hand behind his head to rub his nape.

"But baits are a little scary..." he continued, "and they don't have control over the situation. So... sharks... are harder to catch, because they are stubborn and... they fight a lot."

"But maybe the bait is really good and the shark won't know what it's missing out on until it takes that risk," Casey exclaimed while trying to keep composure. "Even though the fisherman may be scared to catch the shark and tired of putting up with it... it will probably be worth it in the end."

"Yeah, but what if the shark... just wants to protect the fisherman, because... when it bites, it hurts. And it's not as harmless as the tuna. And that the shark doesn't want other people to see that the fisherman got a shark bite... which would really hurt. Because sharks are very carnivorous. And they... can't help... but bite. Hard. Painfully."

He looked downward, struggling to find the words to say and somehow unsure if he was even making sense. The battle between two opposing forces continued inside of him, and that even though she was so close, so within reach, he could not get himself to move his hands and touch her without feeling remorseful. Since when did he feel guilty about caressing a woman? Since when did he develop cowardice towards this game? But this was not a game, and this was not about any ordinary woman.

"What if the fisherman doesn't care about being bitten…"

Derek felt sudden warmth on both sides of his cheek as Casey's palms touched his flushed face. He lifted his eyes only to find out that they had met a pair of questioning, assuring, and searching blue eyes. They reminded him of both summer and winter, of the blue skies and icy blue snow, of the tropical seas and the frozen lakes. Two gems as precious as sapphire, safely encased in folds like a scroll, guarded by hundreds of long, black laces that would sometimes glitter whenever she wears that shimmering mascara that she bought at the mall a month ago. Whoa, what the heck? He felt a hard tug in his heart and there and then, he realized he did not like her – he loved her. He loved the way she stares, the way she stands, the way she curves her rosy lips, the way she effortlessly moves when she dances, the way she cooks, the way she laughs, the ways she screams his name when she's mad. He loved her mannerisms and her clumsiness and the way she let out a breath of satisfaction whenever she accomplishes something. He loved the simplest things and the complicated things about her. He loved the ground under her feet, and the air over her head, and everything she touches, and every word she says. He loved all her looks, and all her actions, and her entirely and altogether. Crap, wasn't that from "Wuthering Heights"? That was it, he was in love.

He let his hands rest above hers on his face for a while; he knew Casey could feel him tremble under her touch. Squeezing her soft hands and tightening his grip on them, he closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh.

"But that would hurt the shark, because... the shark..." he slowly pulled her grasp away from his cheeks and brought them down, still holding them, "cares for the fisherman."

Casey's eyes slowly widened and lit up. Though she couldn't find the strength to smile, his words had given her hope and that was all she needed. It was relieving; it was rendering her speechless. How was she going to react? Was she supposed to say "Yes"? "Yes" to what? He wasn't asking anything. Her thoughts were swimming in multiple directions, yet she didn't care. He cared for her, and that was all she wanted to hear. She could feel that familiar strong tingling sensation from her fingertips which were still enclosed within his strong grip. It's there. It's fading? It's... gone.

"And it doesn't want the fisherman to get hurt. That's why, it's letting the tuna catch the bait. For the fisherman's sake."

She found her hands on both sides of her body where Derek had placed them before letting her go. What? Her eyebrows scrunched and the lips of her gaping mouth trembled as she looked at him disbelievingly. What?

"The fisherman doesn't want the tuna… just the shark! And if getting hurt is part of the risks of catching a shark, so be it!"

"The fisherman has to understand that... the shark has a tendency to kill a person... not because it wants to, but because... that's its nature. And that these are all part of the dangers of catching a shark," Derek desperately tried to explain as he withdrew from his current position and moved to the side of his bed. "That's why... the shark... just can't let the fisherman... touch it."

"The fisherman doesn't care!" Casey screamed, turning to face him as she held on to the last string of her losing battle with her tears.

"But, the fisherman should let the tuna catch the bait... because the shark just... can't do it," Derek choked as he tried to fight his own battle.

"Just... can't... do it," his struggled to keep his words from faltering, feeling his hands shaking as he gathered a portion of his pillow under his curling fist.

"No matter... how much... it wants to. Because it likes the bait..." He let out a sigh of extreme frustration and defeat as he glanced forward, his eyes toward the bookcase, "but can't hurt the fisherman!"

And he threw the pillow in the air, smashing against the wall and landing forcefully on the small trophies atop the case which went crashing on the floor.

The phone, which had rolled haphazardly from the bed to the carpet, rang again and this time he grabbed and answered it, "WHAT!"

His face turned grim for a split second, but he shook his head and managed to calm his nerves enough to turn and hand the phone back to the owner.

"H-hello?" asked a still slightly disoriented Casey. "Matthew."

The name had triggered their eyes to come in contact. This name, so compelling that it brings them together and so repulsive that it keeps them far apart. Her senses were quite hazy but she managed to understand what the person on the other line was saying. Barely, but enough. She pleaded with Derek silently, so silent that only he could hear loud and clear. She searched and waited, desperate for him to keep her from making a mistake, from drifting far apart from him, from possibly not being able to come back - not that she was certain of this Matthew person, but that if he let this moment go, it might be the end of everything for the two of them. Just one word, she waited for just one word - a "no" to what she was about to do. But he could not give a response. He could not make a decision. Succumbing to failure, he closed his eyes and slowly turned his back on her; and that was the last strike, Casey had lost control of her tears. Silent and unrecognizable her sob may be to the person on the other line, but inwardly, she was devastated. With Derek's silence, they both did make a decision.

"I'd love to."

A/N: Hmm, heavy stuff. :P I've finally had the chance to use the Shark and Fisherman tweets! This was one of the most unforgettable parts of their tweeting, so I wanted to include it in the story. This was a little more dramatic and kinda tragic than the original (original actually had a happy ending), but I'm going to tweak the story, so I figured I'll just do it this way. I've inserted some extra dialogue and changed the original lines/tweets a little, but it's pretty much almost the same. The 'parking lot' story and Derek's racing weirdness are add-ons. Haha.

What do you think? Please review if you have the time! I know you probably have to go back to the first chapter to remember, haha. But hopefully, it's worth it. :) Thank you!

Credits: DerekVenturi and LifeWithCasey - for most of the shark/fisherman lines