driven to distraction
Title: Story of a Girl (2/10)
Chapter: Two
Author: amoenavi
Fandom: Life with Derek
Pairings/Characters: Derek, Casey
Disclaimer: Do I own... *laughs* You're silly. I also don't own the lyrics to "You Know My Name" by Chris Cornell.
Rating: T (that word again)
Summary: Ten things Casey McDonald can't stop doing (that don't involve Derek Venturi at all. Really.)
-x-x-
Two: She falls asleep in strange positions like half-sitting/half-sprawled across the backseat of The Prince or with her lower body facing right and her upper facing left; sometimes it's so bad that when she wakes up in the morning she's bent over for half an hour (Derek takes advantage and puts her favorite cereal on the top shelf, far out of the reach of "Quasimodo").
-x-x-
“Arm yourself because no one else here will save you - !”
An arm reached out from under the covers, he slapped his bedside table until he found the phone. “Ven-ree,” he mumbled sleepily, eyes still closed.
“Derek? Where’s my car?” Oh, great, Casey. He rolled over in his bed and checked the time. Casey calling at 12:56 am on a school night?
“Wha?”
“My car. The one I had - awyee,” she yawned. “A’ the schoo’.” She yawned again. “Fo’ rehea’sal.”
He yawned after her. “The one I drove home?”
“What? De-rek! I can’t believe you -” her voice faded out. “Wha’evah. Jus’ come pih’ me u’.”
“Crazy, it’s almost one -”
Dial tone. Fuck, he was going to have to go get her.
00
The Prince just barely made it there on the little gas it had (it wasn’t irresponsibility - it was frugality.)
Casey, in full French Whore makeup, climbed into the backseat of the car. “About time! It’s really cold out there, you ass.” She kicked his seat, throwing her rehearsal bag in the passenger seat.
He growled and tried not to turn around and strangle her.
She settled in, burrowing deep into the seat. “You ca’ hav’ the cah Frida’,” she announced sleepily. “Alex McF’l’n ish takuh me ouh.”
Derek’s hands tightened on the wheel. “Oh, great. That guy’s an ass.”
She was quiet for a long time and then he heard the snoring.
When they got back to the house, he turned on the car lights really bright and kicked her bag out into the street to spite her before opening the rear door roughly because it squeaked. “Okay, get out.” Silence. “Casey.”
There was no response: she was splayed over the seats, double buckled and using the window as a support, mouth wide open and hair falling out of its sleek-with-hairspray bun. She looked so… so utterly uncomfortable that it was disconcerting. It seemed like her head was at the strangest angle and her legs her bent in opposite directions. She was so weird.
“Casey.” And a heavy sleeper. Fan-fucking-tastic. “Oh, come on. Get up!” He reached in to shake her awake when he saw what she was using for a pillow.
Her hands were curled around Derek’s hockey jersey, lying underneath her head and there was a slight smile on her face. It caused his chest to constrict in a weird way - like a heartburn way, not anything warm and fuzzy, God -and he just stopped.
He turned the car on, pulled it into the garage, and turned the heat in the garage to full. He didn't leave her stuff in the street and he didn't close the garage door. He did, however, hang one of his old Halloween masks from the mirror to freak her out.
00
Derek heard the bones cracking in her back before she even hit the stairs.
“Mornin’, Spacey.” He leapt down from the stool, landing on the floor with a thud. “Sleep well?”
She shuffled into the kitchen, dark circles under bloodshot eyes and a hand to the small of her back, grimacing at his cheer. “Oh, go to hell.”
“Casey,” Nora warned, not looking up from her newspaper.
“He started it,” she muttered angrily, lowering herself carefully into the wooden stool. “I don’t understand why he gets away with everything when I’m the one who - uh - wait-” she frowned at her mother’s dress and heels. “Where are you going?”
“What? I’m not going anywhere.” Nora chuckled nervously. “Why? Can’t I dress like this to do housework? Am I not entitled to look nice every now and then? Gosh, Casey.” She stood and huffed, walking out of the room and slamming the door to the basement. She’d been like that a lot lately. It was scary.
He winced and turned toward Casey, wide-eyed. “I think Nora’s caught some of your crazy.”
She frowned. “Hey! That’s… ah, who cares.” She waved her hand dismissively, lowering her head onto the counter. “I’m exhausted.”
He munched his cereal, watching the steady up and down motion of her breathing (not because it calmed him or anything it’s… what else was there to look at?). “It might help if you slept like a human,” he advised solemnly.
Her head shot up. “I sleep just fine, thank you. It’s just… that mattress is so uncomfortable.”
“Oh, you mean the one we bought you because you complained about the other one?” He swallowed. “That uncomfortable mattress?”
“It was too hard,” she grumbled, struggling out of the chair. “And this one’s too soft. It’s like I’m being sucked into a marshmallow.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Okay, fine. A vortex. I’m being sucked into a vortex.” One hand on the counter to steady herself, she travelled around the island to stand directly in front of Derek. “You sleep fine. You snore and it causes a 10 on the Richter scale.”
“No…” he smirked at her and whoa, she was standing really close to him. “I think that’s you.” He walked around the island to sit in the chair she had just vacated. “Probably why the boys stay away.”
“Shut up.”
“Hey, why are you awake now? That hot date with Alex not go so well?” She got home at approximately 10:23 pm last night (not that he cared). There was no goodnight kiss (not that he watched because, um, that would be weird).
“Shut. Up.”
“What, Quasimodo can’t get a date to semi?” Casey had been striking out with the men ever since she broke up with Max. Apparently that (orangecardboardsonofabitch) thing actually did have some power over the student body. “You loser,” he said almost - but not really - affectionately.
“At least I’m not an ass.”
“No, but you sure do have one.” Damn it. That was not supposed to come out like that.
Her blue eyes widened infinitesimally while he played it off as if he meant to say it (clutched hockey jersey). “I mean, that thing’s huge.” It wasn’t huge.
“De-rek!” she screeched, seemingly relieved. “You’re such a jerk!”
He shrugged, not denying that fact. “I am what I am.” Her stomach growled loudly and he snickered as she covered it with her arms, embarrassed. “Was that an earthquake?”
“Ugh, shut up.” She waddled over, slowly and painfully, to the cabinet which ordinarily held the cereal only to find that it was bare. She sighed and spoke without turning around. “Where’d you put my Natural! Crunch fruit cereal?”
Derek put the spoon to his lip in mock contemplation. “Hmm, top shelf… maybe on the left? You’ll probably have to check every cabinet.”
He expected her to throw a hissy fit about him being a jackass and De-rek, why are you out to ruin my life?! and blahblahblah like she did every time he hid her cereal. Instead, she sighed again and began to shuffle toward the sink, stopping every couple of feet to wince and crack her back.
“Just…” She was leaning against the counter, (hunched) back to him. “A general vicinity would be great. It’s- it’s not been a good weekend.”
Her hair was pulled into two low pigtails, falling over her shoulders and exposing her back so he could see every breath she took, could monitor it as her breathing got faster and shallower as she was on the edge of tears. Oh, crap.
“Here, here!” He shot out of his seat, jumped up onto the stool and pulled out the neon orange box that held her cereal. “Eat it, Hunchback!”
Casey stared at him in shock for a moment before bursting into laughter. “I - I can’t believe - you actually - you loser,” she managed between bouts of laughing. “You - the crying? You’re a softie.”
“And you’re a manipulative keener!” he accused, pointing a finger at her.
His step-sister shrugged, not denying the fact.
She also didn’t thank him, but she did hum contentedly as she got her bowl and spoon and dug in.
-x-x-
Chapter: Two
Author: amoenavi
Fandom: Life with Derek
Pairings/Characters: Derek, Casey
Disclaimer: Do I own... *laughs* You're silly. I also don't own the lyrics to "You Know My Name" by Chris Cornell.
Rating: T (that word again)
Summary: Ten things Casey McDonald can't stop doing (that don't involve Derek Venturi at all. Really.)
-x-x-
Two: She falls asleep in strange positions like half-sitting/half-sprawled across the backseat of The Prince or with her lower body facing right and her upper facing left; sometimes it's so bad that when she wakes up in the morning she's bent over for half an hour (Derek takes advantage and puts her favorite cereal on the top shelf, far out of the reach of "Quasimodo").
-x-x-
“Arm yourself because no one else here will save you - !”
An arm reached out from under the covers, he slapped his bedside table until he found the phone. “Ven-ree,” he mumbled sleepily, eyes still closed.
“Derek? Where’s my car?” Oh, great, Casey. He rolled over in his bed and checked the time. Casey calling at 12:56 am on a school night?
“Wha?”
“My car. The one I had - awyee,” she yawned. “A’ the schoo’.” She yawned again. “Fo’ rehea’sal.”
He yawned after her. “The one I drove home?”
“What? De-rek! I can’t believe you -” her voice faded out. “Wha’evah. Jus’ come pih’ me u’.”
“Crazy, it’s almost one -”
Dial tone. Fuck, he was going to have to go get her.
00
The Prince just barely made it there on the little gas it had (it wasn’t irresponsibility - it was frugality.)
Casey, in full French Whore makeup, climbed into the backseat of the car. “About time! It’s really cold out there, you ass.” She kicked his seat, throwing her rehearsal bag in the passenger seat.
He growled and tried not to turn around and strangle her.
She settled in, burrowing deep into the seat. “You ca’ hav’ the cah Frida’,” she announced sleepily. “Alex McF’l’n ish takuh me ouh.”
Derek’s hands tightened on the wheel. “Oh, great. That guy’s an ass.”
She was quiet for a long time and then he heard the snoring.
When they got back to the house, he turned on the car lights really bright and kicked her bag out into the street to spite her before opening the rear door roughly because it squeaked. “Okay, get out.” Silence. “Casey.”
There was no response: she was splayed over the seats, double buckled and using the window as a support, mouth wide open and hair falling out of its sleek-with-hairspray bun. She looked so… so utterly uncomfortable that it was disconcerting. It seemed like her head was at the strangest angle and her legs her bent in opposite directions. She was so weird.
“Casey.” And a heavy sleeper. Fan-fucking-tastic. “Oh, come on. Get up!” He reached in to shake her awake when he saw what she was using for a pillow.
Her hands were curled around Derek’s hockey jersey, lying underneath her head and there was a slight smile on her face. It caused his chest to constrict in a weird way - like a heartburn way, not anything warm and fuzzy, God -and he just stopped.
He turned the car on, pulled it into the garage, and turned the heat in the garage to full. He didn't leave her stuff in the street and he didn't close the garage door. He did, however, hang one of his old Halloween masks from the mirror to freak her out.
00
Derek heard the bones cracking in her back before she even hit the stairs.
“Mornin’, Spacey.” He leapt down from the stool, landing on the floor with a thud. “Sleep well?”
She shuffled into the kitchen, dark circles under bloodshot eyes and a hand to the small of her back, grimacing at his cheer. “Oh, go to hell.”
“Casey,” Nora warned, not looking up from her newspaper.
“He started it,” she muttered angrily, lowering herself carefully into the wooden stool. “I don’t understand why he gets away with everything when I’m the one who - uh - wait-” she frowned at her mother’s dress and heels. “Where are you going?”
“What? I’m not going anywhere.” Nora chuckled nervously. “Why? Can’t I dress like this to do housework? Am I not entitled to look nice every now and then? Gosh, Casey.” She stood and huffed, walking out of the room and slamming the door to the basement. She’d been like that a lot lately. It was scary.
He winced and turned toward Casey, wide-eyed. “I think Nora’s caught some of your crazy.”
She frowned. “Hey! That’s… ah, who cares.” She waved her hand dismissively, lowering her head onto the counter. “I’m exhausted.”
He munched his cereal, watching the steady up and down motion of her breathing (not because it calmed him or anything it’s… what else was there to look at?). “It might help if you slept like a human,” he advised solemnly.
Her head shot up. “I sleep just fine, thank you. It’s just… that mattress is so uncomfortable.”
“Oh, you mean the one we bought you because you complained about the other one?” He swallowed. “That uncomfortable mattress?”
“It was too hard,” she grumbled, struggling out of the chair. “And this one’s too soft. It’s like I’m being sucked into a marshmallow.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Okay, fine. A vortex. I’m being sucked into a vortex.” One hand on the counter to steady herself, she travelled around the island to stand directly in front of Derek. “You sleep fine. You snore and it causes a 10 on the Richter scale.”
“No…” he smirked at her and whoa, she was standing really close to him. “I think that’s you.” He walked around the island to sit in the chair she had just vacated. “Probably why the boys stay away.”
“Shut up.”
“Hey, why are you awake now? That hot date with Alex not go so well?” She got home at approximately 10:23 pm last night (not that he cared). There was no goodnight kiss (not that he watched because, um, that would be weird).
“Shut. Up.”
“What, Quasimodo can’t get a date to semi?” Casey had been striking out with the men ever since she broke up with Max. Apparently that (orangecardboardsonofabitch) thing actually did have some power over the student body. “You loser,” he said almost - but not really - affectionately.
“At least I’m not an ass.”
“No, but you sure do have one.” Damn it. That was not supposed to come out like that.
Her blue eyes widened infinitesimally while he played it off as if he meant to say it (clutched hockey jersey). “I mean, that thing’s huge.” It wasn’t huge.
“De-rek!” she screeched, seemingly relieved. “You’re such a jerk!”
He shrugged, not denying that fact. “I am what I am.” Her stomach growled loudly and he snickered as she covered it with her arms, embarrassed. “Was that an earthquake?”
“Ugh, shut up.” She waddled over, slowly and painfully, to the cabinet which ordinarily held the cereal only to find that it was bare. She sighed and spoke without turning around. “Where’d you put my Natural! Crunch fruit cereal?”
Derek put the spoon to his lip in mock contemplation. “Hmm, top shelf… maybe on the left? You’ll probably have to check every cabinet.”
He expected her to throw a hissy fit about him being a jackass and De-rek, why are you out to ruin my life?! and blahblahblah like she did every time he hid her cereal. Instead, she sighed again and began to shuffle toward the sink, stopping every couple of feet to wince and crack her back.
“Just…” She was leaning against the counter, (hunched) back to him. “A general vicinity would be great. It’s- it’s not been a good weekend.”
Her hair was pulled into two low pigtails, falling over her shoulders and exposing her back so he could see every breath she took, could monitor it as her breathing got faster and shallower as she was on the edge of tears. Oh, crap.
“Here, here!” He shot out of his seat, jumped up onto the stool and pulled out the neon orange box that held her cereal. “Eat it, Hunchback!”
Casey stared at him in shock for a moment before bursting into laughter. “I - I can’t believe - you actually - you loser,” she managed between bouts of laughing. “You - the crying? You’re a softie.”
“And you’re a manipulative keener!” he accused, pointing a finger at her.
His step-sister shrugged, not denying the fact.
She also didn’t thank him, but she did hum contentedly as she got her bowl and spoon and dug in.
-x-x-