It was dark when Derek opened his eyes but he knew where he was immediately because he could smell the unique scent that was Casey on the pillow next to him. He smiled to himself and stretched an arm to reach for her.
She wasn't there.
Slightly confused, he turned his head to look at the clock and saw that it was 1am. Frowning he sat up to look for the telltale crack of light under the bathroom door – but that was also missing. The room was in darkness.
As his eyes adjusted and he sat up straighter, rubbing his tired face with his hands, he realised that the darkness wasn't complete and that the drapes at the balcony window were drawn back, exposing a grey light from outside. A slight movement near the floor caught his eye and he looked down. Silhouetted against the dim light was a huddled bundle of bath robe and spare comforter.
Casey.
Derek shoved back the covers from his body and slipped naked from their bed. The cold hit him immediately and he grabbed the spare bathrobe which lay discarded on the end of the bed and slid his arms into its sleeves. Now semi-clothed and reaching Casey's form, he slid down to the ground beside her. Instinctively, affectionately he brushed the hair from the side of her face so that he could see her expression. She turned her head slightly to look at him and he saw to his horror the glistening of tears in the pale light.
"What's wrong?" he asked, quickly. "What did I do?" He sounded nervous. Casey smiled sadly, shaking her head. She reached for his hand and he laced fingers with her, pleased that she wanted the contact and comfort from him when she was upset. He'd changed a lot since their teenaged years and so had she.
"What do you think it is going to be like after next weekend?" She asked quietly. Her voice lowered because it was late, they were a secret – and because she was scared to voice the question. Derek shrugged.
"Complete and utter carnage." He said honestly, sliding an arm around her shoulders without letting go of her fingers. "We'll be tabloid fodder for a while."
Casey looked up at him in surprise. "Doesn't that bother you?"
He sighed. "Yeah for a brief instant. But it wouldn't be the first time for me, - the publicity thing I mean. This…" he motioned between them. "This is brand new though and believe me, worth the pain. And newspapers are fickle. In two weeks some politician will father a love child and we'll be amongst the "also attended" in the society pages."
Despite her current mood, Casey smiled. She picked at the pile on his robe. "Derek, this isn't just about sex, is it?"
He threw her a disgusted look, made hasher by the shadows thrown onto his face by the light of the moon. He was surprised she even had to ask the question after everything they had been through to be together.
"Are you regretting this?" Derek asked reluctantly.
"Regret? Regret is for when you had control over an event. I don't think either of us had any control over us. It's always been instinctive."
"You could have stayed away." Derek pointed out. Casey laughed.
"No. I couldn't."
His arms tightened around her. "No. Neither could I." He paused. "Funny how our lives go to shit when we aren't together isn't it?"
"I missed you. I don't want to go through that again."
"Me either." He nuzzled her neck and then planted a kiss on her skin. "So why the tears, princess? The paparazzi are nothing."
"I know. I'm worried about our family and friends. How are they going to take us being together?"
Derek pulled back. "Newsflash Casey. They already know."
"I know that, idiot. I mean I'm worrying about who is going to start refusing my calls when I get out of here. Who is going to be appalled by the idea of us dating? Who's going to distance themselves? Emily, Clare? People on your hockey team. You're going to be the guy that screwed his sister after all." Her words recalled earlier conversations they had had years ago.
"Case. I know hockey players aren't renowned for their brains, but even my lot know the difference between a sister and a step-sister. I've made it very clear. But it's beside the point. If they can't deal with it, I don't want to deal with them. They can walk away from me if they want to. I can't walk away from you."
Casey smiled. "That's sweet Derek. But it won't stop me worrying – and over-thinking."
Derek pulled away from her. "Ah…over-thinking, I can deal with." He said, standing up.
"Oh?"
He held out a hand to help Casey to her feet and they stood looking at each other: two lovers, their bathrobes untied and hanging loosely, neither of them wearing anything beneath the terry fabric.
Derek slipped a hand inside Casey's robe and located the small of her back so that he could draw her to him. Casey closed her eyes as the movement pressed their naked bodies tightly together. They were each cold but together their bodies created an electric warmth as they touched.
"Over-thinking involves thinking." Derek murmured against her ear and she felt his hip bones press against hers. "You aren't going to have time to think." He promised as his lips found hers.
When Derek next woke, he didn't need to look for Casey because she was wound so tightly around him if he breathed the wrong way she would wake up. He moved his eyes to the clock - 3am. He grinned and started to kiss her awake, desperate for them to make use of every moment before their 5am alarm.
Luan took pity on Derek and let him out of the trunk earlier today. He took his place beside her in the car thoughtfully. His distraction wasn't lost on Luan and she was slightly concerned because he didn't look as though he was a guy lost in the memories of a passionate night with the love of his life.
"Penny for them?" She offered as they pulled back onto the main road. Derek blew out a breath and turned to look out of the window.
"Casey's worried about people's reaction to us dating."
Luan shrugged. "So far the polls are positive."
Derek stared at her aghast. "They took polls on us dating?"
"Of course. The network needed to know whether to pull the plug on her participation."
"That's just…"
"Television." Luan finished with a chuckle. It disappeared quickly. "Is she threatening to call it off? Your romance I mean?"
"No. Neither of us can do that anymore. I'm just worried about her. Other people's opinion matters to Casey. If our friends and family don't support us she'll be heartbroken."
"Do you think that's likely?"
Derek considered the question. "For most of them…no. Our family already knows and they'll back us to the hilt. They've always seen us as a double act. Our friends…and by that I do mean "our"… Casey and I have shared our friends as long as we've shared our family. Our friends…the ones that have hung around through the crap of the fame and fortune bit are loyal and supportive – and I doubt that would change when this all becomes more common knowledge."
"They know now."
"No. There is speculation now, spurred on by our lack of denials and a bit of play acting on stage. When Casey leaves the hotel with me on Saturday night, it's going to be obvious. And when she moves in with me…"
"Moves in with you!" Luan gasped. "Bit quick?"
"Or ridiculously slow depending on how you look at it. But I can't keep climbing down a fire escape in the early hours of the morning to avoid people knowing I'm staying at Casey's house."
"I guess not. Have you asked her?"
"No. But she loves my house. She helped me choose it. I don't think she'll say no. I refuse to hang back and be conventional. Trying to be "conventional" got me a bruised ego and the marriage from hell."
Luan was thoughtful. "Maybe you should poll your friends before Saturday: work out who is going to cause you problems and plan a way to deal with them."
Derek tilted his head at Luan. "You know, maybe that isn't such a bad idea."
They were both silent for a few moments.
"Luan?"
"Yup."
"Where does Trevor live?"
Casey slept in again on Sunday morning because her sleep prior to five am had been intermittent, and of short duration. In fact, she slept so long she was late for her eleven am rehearsal with Trevor.
She high-tailed it out of her room and down the stairs as quickly as she could.
Harriet greeted her breathless figure with a wry smile. "It's okay. He's running late too. He's not even here yet."
Trevor bustled through the door ten minutes later looking puffed. "Sorry duckies. I had a breakfast meeting and it over-ran."
Harriet arched an eyebrow. "Really, darling. Is that what they call it these days?"
Her partner in crime snorted. "Honestly girl, if I could have been doing that with Derek Venturi at 6am on a Sunday morning I would have been well happy! Sadly, all he wanted was my dancing expertise. He was all business."
"Derek?" Casey's eyes widened. "You saw Derek this morning at 6am?"
"Like I said. A breakfast meeting. I wished he'd given me more notice though. I don't usually allow house calls before ten on a weekend. Still as I told him, it was totes worth it for the kudos of saying I've sat across the breakfast table from Derek Venturi…" he paused and gave Casey a pointed look. "…looking all kinds of 'just been fucked'. That was a major set of fingernail marks on the back of his neck. You go girl!"
Casey turned beetroot red. "Erm…"
"Leave the poor girl alone, Trevor, and tell us what the hockey god was after."
"Ah…well. That remains between him and me. However, you are both going to love it. Now! We've wasted enough time on this gossiping. Let's get on with some serious work, people!" he clapped his hands and turned towards the ipod dock.
The week passed the same way as the previous ones: long hours of rehearsals, both singing and dancing.
It had been Trevor who chose both the tracks this time. On Sunday, Harriet rehearsed blindly with Casey, following Trevor's directions, but on Monday her entire attitude changed and she became more confident. Casey secretly thought that in the meantime there had been some sort of communication between her two trainers and Harriet had been clued into Trevor's game plan. From Monday, she only ever had one of the trainers there. The other one was always "busy".
The theme for the final week was "Anything Goes". The contestants could choose any dance track and song format so long as they were suitable for performance in a large concert hall. The venue for the final had been changed to the city's premier venue and the music would be played by a full philharmonic orchestra to a live audience of thousands.
With the change in venue and audience came a new nervousness. The previous live audience had been intimate, and it was easy to forget that there were millions of people watching at home. Casey didn't lose the nerves despite Derek's best efforts to distract her on Saturday night. She wasn't sure which was more concerning, the thought of being on the biggest stage with the largest live audience of her life – or the thought of showing her new relationship to her friends and family.
On Wednesday, Derek played in another game and his performance was stellar. She told him so with pride and love on the phone that evening, and they made plans to celebrate as soon as she was free. Quietly to herself, Casey admitted it would have to be after she had had a decent sleep.
Because of the worry and tension Casey wasn't sleeping well. She had tried talking at length to Derek on the phone, but the calm reassurance he gave and the whispered words of love didn't last past the click as he hung up. She was uneasy and time moved both slowly and very quickly.
In bed she tossed and turned, and grew more and more restless. First the bed was too cold, then too warm. Second the room was too light/too dark. Finally, everything was just too quiet.
At three am she climbed out of bed, dressed and made her way back downstairs. The communal halls were brightly lit, but empty and it felt eerie moving around the hotel on her own. She passed the reception desk and shook her head when the receptionist asked if there was anything she could fetch Casey.
"I'm just after a book from the drawing room." Casey said. "Is that okay?"
"Sure. Help yourself. Can't you sleep?"
"No. Nerves I guess."
"You're an old hand at it now."
Casey chuckled. "I wouldn't say that. But it has become a dirty habit."
She left the main concourse and made for the bizarre drawing room with its weird shade of green wall paper and its contrasting furniture. The room had large bookshelves at regular intervals and Casey often chose a book – largely classics- to read. Though the décor wasn't to her taste, Casey did like the smell of the room: strong leather and the musty hum of old books.
Normally the drawing room was empty, especially at three am.
Tonight it was not.
As Casey entered the room, she was brought up short by the scene in front of her.
Chloe was sitting in a high-back chair, like a throne dressed in tatty sweat pants and a scratty tee. Her make-up was smudged as though she had been crying and beside the chair was a discarded bottle of vodka. Chloe looked a complete an utter mess and completely out of place. The Chloe Casey had come to know would never have left herself open to the possibility of a tabloid photographing her like this. She would never have let Derek see her like this, instead preferring to maintain an illusion of perfection.
Something was clearly wrong.
Unfortunately, Casey's arrival hadn't gone unnoticed.
"Sorry." Casey said and tried to walk out of the door again.
"No. Wait. Stop." Chloe said pulling her scatter limbs towards her and sitting forwards. "We need to talk."
And Casey, sensing something in the other woman's tone, closed the door behind her and crossed to Chloe's side.
AN: Apologies for the lack of a decent update schedule recently. There are two reasons for this. Firstly, the boys are back to school and the change in routine is quite dramatic. I should have more time but for some reason that hasn't happened yet. Secondly, I've had writer's block over Casey's last song.
That has now cleared and I think there will be only one more chapter left, plus an epilogue. I'm hoping to have both of those written by the end of the week.