A/N : Really strange chapter. I think I was in a super-melancholy mood or something and...this came out. Thank you SO much for all the wonderful reviews. I mean, WOW, you guys rock hard! (And I can't remember whether I've replied to them or not, hope I have! Stupid new ff "messaging" system makes me forget every time. Earlier you couldn't reply again, if you'd already replied. Now you can't tell).

I hope you like it (even if it's really weird). :)

When they first met, they filled all the stereotypes. He was the popular, ultra-cool guy with girls and hockey. And she was the keener with braces and dorky dresses. They were like...toothpaste and orange juice. He was wild and she thought everything out. He had a thousand girlfriends and she actually tripped when she liked a guy. He slacked through life and she hated it when she got a ninety-six.

(And he played dress-up with his sister and she lied to get time for her science project. They worked together and fought together and when she thought he was moving to Spain for six months, she cried. And they really never were that well defined anyway.)

Her blush hormones seem to have gone way into overdrive.

She's not even sure why she agreed to something as stupid as this. ("You're the only one who knows what he likes.")

Oh right.

(That's not even true. What she does know is all that he dislikes. And that too only because she's used that information against him. Just because he knew she'd been going to his hockey games didn't reflect on how well they knew/didn't know each other. It just proved that being a detective was definitely not her calling).

Lyra seems to find it hysterical that she can't keep her gaze on one…thing long enough, without having to look away.

"It's just underwear," she says, in a matter-of-fact tone that makes Casey aware of how usual this is for her.

(Just underwear. Right. With nets. And leather. And lace. And satin. But just underwear.)

The only reason she notices him is because he looks just as out-of-place as she does. He's standing awkwardly behind a rack obviously wishing himself anywhere but in the boutique. And in a strange way his eager-to-please expression reminds her of Tinker.

(Strangely enough, Tinker might have been the only guy who'd ever liked her just as she was. She's not sure what her constant rejection of him says about her).

"Hey."

He looks at her in surprise, "Umm…hi."

"So…planning on surprising your girlfriend?"

(…And the Academy Award for the most awkward dialogue goes to…)

He flushes and belatedly she realizes he's about twelve. "No. I…I'm here for my sister."

"Wow. Isn't that a job left for mothers usually?" She smiles at him.

He smiles back, "My mother passed away six years ago and Marina refuses to go with anyone else. But this is really awkward."

She looks at him, "I'm sorry."

"It's been a long time, but since she's growing up it's harder. Dad doesn't exactly understand," he leans in closer, "I've to go out and buy…sanitary…stuff for her. And I always get this feeling that everyone's looking funny at me, you know."

She's laughing suddenly, "Once my step-sister sat on her box of red paint and went around with red splashed all over her skirt. My step-brother assumed the worse, even though she was eight, and he kept dropping cryptic hints to me and my mother. We didn't get it, and in the end he went and brought ten different packs because he couldn't decide between colors and scented/unscented. The way back he met up with a group of girls from school and in his hurry to hide the packet he tripped…"

The boy leans in further, interested, "And then…? Did they laugh at him?"

She grins (actually grins), "Laugh at him? You don't know Derek Venturi. Within ten minutes he'd made three dates for the next week because he was such a caring, sensitive guy."

"He sounds like a nice person."

Casey smiles down at the ten-year-old girl who seems to have materialized out of thin air, "He really isn't."

"But if he wasn't," the girl says seriously, as if debating theories of quantum physics, "then he wouldn't have gone through so much trouble for his sister. If he's one of the cool people, then to do that he must love her very much."

(And strangely enough the memory flashing through her mind isn't of the day that they still hold against Derek. It's of a totally different day and they're both in the kitchen and she's crying and he's telling her to "take your own advice").

"Sometimes," she says (and maybe she's been wrong all along. Maybe it's always been concern. For a sister. "…annoying brother." "Step-brother". "Same difference."), "Sometimes he has his moments."

Long after they've waved good-bye, she stands there, her head filled with break-ups and dances and stupid, ridiculous hula-hoops.

"Green." She says decisively.

Sally turns around, "Are you sure? Because I prefer the blue one."

She doesn't know why/how, but she knows, he'd like the green one. For a moment she imagines his expression and the strange tightening in her gut has nothing to do with sisterly…anything.

"He'd like the green one."

(And it's ridiculous that Sally trusts her judgment over her own).

"You guys are so much like my brother and me," says Lyra from her position on one of the chairs.

She feels a strong flash of irritation because…because Lyra…siblings…because Lyra's grammar is (not really) incorrect.

"My brother and I," she says, unnecessarily. (And technically it's not even right, but that's beside the point. The whole sentence is totally and utterly wrong).

Lyra glares at her, "Whatev. Keener. I meant that we fight just like you do and he has that whole stupid over-protective thing going on, which isn't half irritating. You're lucky your parents got married when you were young. You're just as comfortable around each other as if you were real siblings."

"They…didn't," and this is surreal, "I was fifteen when they got married."

"Yeah, right", and Lyra's actually rolling her eyes, "You'd be having those constant fights and he'd be coming into your room without knocking if you met when you were fifteen. You probably wouldn't even talk to each other if you'd met at the time your hormones were in overdrive, forget being so…comfortable. Then he wouldn't have cared who you go out with and you wouldn't go to his hockey games. Unless you were like best friends or lo…" she stops, "…something. Which you're not. You can't even stand each other."

(Maybe's it's her expression that gives her away, because Lyra's looking at her with a strange mixture of surprise and understanding, and no…it's not like that…it's just…).

She's saved by the opening of the dressing room (And there is no answer for anyway. It's not questioned. It's always been like this), and Sally's, "Can you guys come here a sec."

Sally's face is flushed with a sort-of suppressed excitement. Her stand is half shy, half defiant, the green satin material bringing out her eyes. Her hair is spread like a golden halo against her shoulder. They both stare at each other for a second. Then suddenly Sally smiles.

"What?"

"You're beautiful."

(And it's with a strange pang that she realizes she's never been more truthful in her life).

She's sitting on his couch, her feet propped up on the table, staring blankly at the television where Julia Roberts is telling Hugh Grant that she's just a girl. Standing in front of a boy. Asking him to love her. And they'll live 'Happily Ever After'.

(And he's…in there…with her. And they…they're probably…)

She doesn't even notice it when the remote slips from her hand

_ _

It's happened so many times that she can't recall whether it's a dream or a memory.

He's there and she's there and they're not…doing anything. He's telling her about Ryan and when he was twelve. And his voice is loud and clear and he's making a mockery out of it (because he's Derek fucking Venturi. It's what he does) but she's looking at him (and through him) and she knows (because she knows him). She knows because he's clenching his hands into fists and his eyes are too wide. She knows because his voice is too clear. He's scared as hell. And he's likes to pretend so much, but he's not superman. And, hey look, he's not invincible. Derek Venturi bruises like an ordinary person. She never remembers what they talk about. Sitting on the dirty steps of her old school, he talks and she listens. But she can't ever recall his words. But his eyes, they're always clear in her mind.

There's only one thing she remembers. It's her he comes to. In her dreams (memories) it's always her. Always.

Or sometimes he's been dumped (he's not the player he wants everyone to think he is. He never has been). And he makes loud, crude remarks about women, but she can always tell when his eyes are too bright and his face stretched too taut. (She wonders whether that girl who just dumped him could tell). And then she's in his room, and maybe it's his expression and he's disillusioned (because honestly, he lives in a fairyland just as much as she does. One where he never gets hurt and always gets what he wants).

And maybe it's because he's Derek, no girl is supposed to mean so much to him. But she's crying and screaming at him for no reason. And for once he's not making excuses about the places he has to be, he doesn't leave.

(That's the only thing she remembers really; he doesn't run away. She cries, and he stays).

And she wakes up, aching, reaching out for (nothing. There's nothing there) something. And it takes her a moment to realize that it's his sweatshirt on the couch. And then she's wearing it. Maybe it's wrong (right) but at least it's something. (And he's still in the room with her. And it's hurting).

She can't tell you whether they're dreams or memories. She's not sure herself. But it's then that she understands:

It isn't that she imagines he needs her. He doesn't. It's just that she's beginning to realize there are times (a lot of times) when she'd like him to.

Dasey action next chapter (can't resist those crazy kids!) And Lyra's statement corresponds with my "Step-siblings are NOT siblings theory". Which I'm going to post on my Livejournal. So check back for the link in a few days if you're interested! Or maybe in the next chapter :)