Um...the end? I can't believe this is it. I'm actually a bit apprehensive about posting this - I'm afraid everyone will think it's an anticlimax! Chapter 6 was actually meant to be the end, but the last part...grew. Well - just before signing off, I want to say that I had an absolute blast writing this - and to say thank you to everyone who reviewed - your comments really motivated me to finish (otherwise I think I would have slacked off!). I'm looking forward to reading a lot more LWD - and thanks again to everyone for the lovely welcome!
As soon as the lights came on, Casey was ready. "We have to talk," she said, sitting bolt upright on the couch. The two guys in the doorway froze.
"Venturi!" someone yelped, "There's a girl living on your couch!" Casey rolled her eyes as she recognised Brian Johnson and Carl Smith, two of Derek's team-mates.
"Relax, Johnson, that's not a girl. That's Casey," Derek said, pushing past with a vague disdainful gesture at the couch.
"She looks like a girl to me," Carl said. "Hey, can I have her when you're done?"
Derek made a revolted face, as Casey got up and padded towards them. "Well Carl, Brian, as always, it's been an – experience. Now go away. I need to talk to Derek."
The two boys blinked at her, as Casey made encouraging scooshing gestures with her hands. They didn't move. Finally Casey sighed, closed her eyes, and summoned a memory of Derek, grape jelly and a brand new sweater. "GET. OUT!"
"So, Venturi...we'll see you tomorrow," Carl said, hastily backing out the door. Brian was already halfway to the car.
Derek held out a hand in goodbye, before shutting the door and turning to Casey.
She faced him head on. "I know what you're doing, you know," she said. "And it's not going to work."
"What's not going to work?" he asked.
"This whole 'talk to me...no, wait, don't' thing."
"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, but Casey thought she could see the hint of a smirk.
She stared him down. "I get it. I wasn't ready to do exactly what you wanted, when you wanted it, so now, this is your idea of payback. You have some bizarre idea that this," she made a circular gesture that was probably meant to suggest Derek's behaviour, "gives you the upper hand in this situation."
Derek's expression told her all she needed to know. She sighed. "Why do you have to play these sick and twisted mind games with girls?"
"Because I'm good at them?" he offered.
"That's what you think. Well, I'm not playing," she said, seriously. "I am not going to be one of those girls who follow you around, performing for your approval. My offer to talk, stands. Right now."
Derek stared at her challengingly, and Casey shifted uncomfortably. "Like I'm the only one."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Answer me this, Casey," he began, "When you decide you want to talk, suddenly I'm playing 'mind games.' But when you're avoiding the issue and kissing me behind your boyfriend's back – not that I blame you for that, by the way," (he preened, momentarily) "what's that? Fine, upstanding moral behaviour?"
Casey considered this in silence for a moment. "Okay," she said finally. "I propose a truce. One honest conversation about – this. No games. What do you say?"
The silence stretched on, and Casey closed her eyes momentarily in defeat. "Fine," she said, looking away. "If you can't even" –
"You have five minutes," Derek interrupted. She stared at him for a moment, but his expression gave nothing away.
"Okay," she said. She took a deep breath, and pulled him over to the couch, motioned him to sit, and then picked up several notebook pages from the coffee table.
"You – have notes," he said. "Why am I not surprised? Will there be a slideshow later?"
Casey ignored him. She rustled her pages and began, clearing her throat. "Okay. I think we're both in agreement that this..." she gestured to him, and then back to herself, "is a mistake."
"Tell me about it," he muttered.
Casey took him at his word. "It's not just a mistake, it's a horrible, terrible, soul-destroying mistake of epic proportions. We're the cosmic punchline to some bizarre joke and" –
"Okay," Derek said, getting to his feet. "I said we could talk. I didn't say it could be boring."
Casey pushed him back down. "As I was saying. Despite the fact that we both..." she sighed and corrected herself, "well I, know better, we're still going ahead with this...thing."
Derek raised his eyebrows. "We are?"
"Do you have a better idea? I mean, ignoring it didn't work. Unless you have another suggestion..."
He was silent.
She continued, "In an attempt to control the inevitable damage, I have come up with some rules. Out of consideration for your limited mental capacities, I've kept them simple. Are you ready to hear them?"
"I'm ready to move to another country if it'll shut you up."
"Rule number one: for the duration of this mistake, you are not allowed to date other mistakes."
Derek looked at her blankly.
"That means no other girls," she clarified. She frowned at Derek, waiting for the expected reaction – it came, but much slower than she'd expected.
"...What?!" he said in outrage.
"Derek," she sighed patiently. "I am the mistake of a LIFETIME."
"No arguments here," he muttered.
"My point is, you won't even have time to make any other mistakes."
He inclined his head to the side, apparently considering this.
"And honestly, how long do you see this lasting?"
"I don't," he said quickly.
"Exactly. It's like...the last cookie in the jar when you're on a diet. It only tastes so good because you know you're not allowed to have it."
"Okay – just like...hmmm – everything else, you're wrong about that. Cookies are always good."
She sighed. "Derek, you should be thinking of this as an educational opportunity. I know I am" –
"Okay," he said suddenly.
"What?" she said, having lost track of the conversation.
"Okay, I agree to rule number one."
Casey smiled in triumph.
"But," Derek continued, with a meaningful stare, "it applies to you too. Assuming, of course, you can find anyone 'special' enough to want to date you."
"Why Derek," she said, tone laden with fake sweetness, "I didn't know you cared."
"I don't," he said. "This is just...in the interest of fairness."
Their eyes caught and held for a long moment before Derek cleared his throat and said, "Anything else?"
"Um. Yes," Casey said, hurriedly consulting her pages again. "Just one more rule, actually."
Derek made a 'speed it up' gesture with his hand.
"This..." she motioned between them, "stays between us. We don't tell other people."
"You think I want other people to know?" Derek asked in amazement.
"Past experience suggests that you would stop at nothing to embarrass me," she said, crossing her arms.
"Well, yeah," he granted, "but you seem to forget that going out with Derek Venturi – you know, the popular hockey player, would be a huge boost to your reputation. On the other hand, if it became known that I was going out with you, my status would suffer a severe drop."
"And how do you come to that conclusion?" Casey asked. "From my perspective, I'm the one with everything to lose if this goes public."
"Look at you. You're...an achiever," Derek said, wrinkling his nose with disdain on the word 'achiever', as if it smelled bad. "People see us together... and instead of making the obvious assumption that you're with me for my hot bod and sexual magnetism" –
Casey snorted.
"...they look at the kind of girl you are – and they start thinking that I have – hidden depths. They start thinking that I...write poetry or – rescue kittens or something," Derek made a face. "It all translates to the social kiss of death."
"Wow. You really are full of it," she said. "Let me just tell you this – I don't care what the Neanderthals you hang around with, think of me. And if it did become public knowledge that we were...seeing each other, people higher up on the evolutionary ladder would start to doubt my intelligence and that is unacceptable."
"So neither of us wants to broadcast this," he pointed out.
"Good," Casey said. "I mean, I don't see this lasting long enough for that to even become an issue. I mean – how long do you give this? A week?"
Derek snorted. "That is being really generous."
Casey cleared her throat and stood up, "Well, those are the rules, and since you seem to agree, I have drawn up a rough timetable" –
"Hold on there a minute, Space-Case," Derek said, holding out a hand, palm out. "Aren't you going to ask me if I have any conditions?"
She blinked for a second, but recovered quickly. "Fine. Do you?"
Derek got to his feet. "As a matter of fact, I do. One."
Casey gestured for him to continue, and he took a step closer, crowding into her space. "My condition is – you don't get to organise me into your tidy little schedule."
"Derek" - she began, only to get cut off.
"You don't get to timetable mistakes, and I don't work to schedule," he said. "Deal?"
Casey looked at her notes, then slowly dropped them onto the coffee table.
"Deal," she agreed, and stuck out her hand. Derek looked down at it.
Several heated minutes later, Casey tore her lips away from Derek's. Trying to regain poise and control, she smoothed her hair, and said, as casually as she could, "You know...usually a handshake is considered sufficient to seal a deal."
"I won't tell if you won't," the Biggest Mistake of Casey MacDonald's life said.