Story: rattlesnakes and romance

Summary: AU "Frankly, Edwin and Dad certainly aren't going to impress anyone other than the Society for the Perpetuation of Jokes Involving Bodily Functions, and Marti's power of cuteness will only get us so far. It's up to me to make sure that Derek McDonald approves of the Venturis."

Notes: Originally stumbled across the prompt on fanprompted from moirariordan, but unoriginal_liz had snagged it. She posted her version, so now I feel slightly less guilty about putting up mine. Hers is far better, so I advise you go read it first.

The prompt was, AU; Remember the old 'Derek's a keener, Casey's the player' cliche? Well try it again - switch their lives, literally. Derek McDonald, son to Nora and brother to Lizzie, moves in with Casey Venturi, daughter to George and sister to Edwin and Marti. This takes place during the flashback scenes of "How I Met Your Stepbrother."

Disclaimer: Nope.

Let's establish something right off the bat: This is not a love story. If you want a love story, turn the page, change the channel, find another service provider.

(This is a war story).

Casey Venturi and Derek McDonald meet in a (not-really) crowded hallway halfway through first semester, sophomore year.

"Emily," Casey asks the contents of her bag, "have you seen my schedule?"

"No," says Emily (Davis, neighbor, best friend of fifteen years, seven months, and eight days. Not that Casey counts. Or has the day that she and Emily met marked on her Shoe-A-Day calendar, an anniversary that she inevitably does not spend with Emily curled up on the couch watching mindless chick flicks). "You're showing him around the school, Casey, not marching on Poland."

(Side Note One: Emily Davis has not met Derek McDonald at this point. She can be thus forgiven for her naïveté.)

"I want to make a good impression," Casey explains, stopping by the staircase (as in The Staircase, which will later feature prominently; keep your eyes peeled for it) to empty most of her binders, color-coded, labeled, and organized with cross referencing. "Frankly, Edwin and Dad certainly aren't going to impress anyone other than the Society for the Perpetuation of Jokes Involving Bodily Functions, and Marti's power of cuteness will only get us so far. It's up to me to make sure that Nora's mysterious eldest child approves of the Venturis."

She pauses, head tilted to the left. "Wait a second!" Emily obligingly stops in the act of opening a packet of gumdrops (see: Guilty Pleasure). "What time is it?" As Emily doesn't even bother to check the time, she returns her things in a regrettable state of disarray to her bag and makes off towards the entrance of the school. "I'm late!" (She is, in fact, two minutes early. This means she is already five minutes behind the schedule that she cannot find.)

Guilty Pleasure, noun – something or someone which causes a person to feel intense satisfaction despite certain moral or rational objections

Examples include:

gumdrops (Emily Davis)

Fred Astaire and Ginger Rodgers movies (Casey Venturi)

late-night cooking shows (Derek McDonald)

fuzzy socks (Ralph Papadapolis)

When Derek is shoved out of the car by his mother, the first thing he trips over is a yellow-lined sheet of paper. It is covered in sparkly purple pen (Derek knows the type—his sister was obsessed with them when she was seven). He takes great joy in stepping on the sheet of paper and slouching his way towards the entrance of the school.

(Side note two: If there is one thing Derek is good at, it's directing [people, movies, cars, pigeons]. If there is one thing Derek is very, very good at, it's manipulating [pedestrians, shots, vehicles, creatures of negligible intelligence].)

Casey skids to a stop in front of a very impressive bust of J.S. Thompson (see: Student Council), only to find that the area where Nora McDonald's Mysterious Child is supposed to be meeting her is, perhaps unsurprisingly, empty.

"Derek?" she calls out, just in case he is hiding behind J.S. Thompson's elaborately coiffed wig.

"You must be Casey," someone says from behind her; she turns, to be greeted with a semi-slouching figure (slackerus prolificus, reaches full mental maturity at 2 years, usually found clad in leather jackets and/or artfully scuffed Chucks).

"Ralph?" she says.

"Who's Ralph?" asks Ralph, making a great show of looking around the (relatively) empty corridor. "I see no Ralph. My name is Derek McDonald."

"Ralph, we went to kindergarten together. I think I fed you Play-Do once." Casey sighs and props a hand on her hip. "Where's the real McCoy?"

Ralph's eyebrows draw together at this introduction of a third party. Casey can tell immediately that he is now uncertain as to whether his new identity has the surname of McDonald or McCoy. "Ralph," she says, affixing an expression of Lack of Amusement on her face, "how much did he pay you and what direction did he go in?"

"Left," says Ralph, pointing to the right. "And, er, twenty bucks for the first half hour."

Casey pats him on the shoulder as she heads down the hallway to her right.

Student Council, noun – an attempt made by the administration of J.S. Thompson High School to invest in their student body the assumption that Things Are Getting Done, even though things are so far from getting done so as to be considered sub-glacial

Members include:

Casey Venturi (President)

Sheldon Schlepper (Vice President)

Kendra Anderson (Secretary)

Jeffery Wassilo (Treasurer)

"Hey," says Derek, artfully slouching against a handy staircase (yes, The Staircase), catching the eye of the blonde in the blue dress. "Care to show a lost soul some guidance?"

Her eyebrow goes through the roof, which tells him that his approach—overly-flirtatious, with a hint of irony—had been the right one. "Lost soul?" she echoes.

"Derek McDonald," he says, and flashes the grin (Cary Grant, Notorious) that has met a wide variety of success at the Toronto mall. "Transfer."

"McDonald?" says Kendra, and he's just begun to think that she's a bit slow, when a smile that is so predatory so as to be termed lethal crosses her face. "Oh, that's just wonderful." She hooks his elbow and simpers so hard he thinks she hasn't even heard of 'irony,' let alone experienced it firsthand. "Welcome to Thompson, Derek. I'm Kendra, and I'll be your tour-guide."

"Nice try, Kendra," floats in from down the hall (See: western showdown).

Western showdown, noun – event in the American west during the pioneer period in which opposing parties (usually cowboys) met on a deserted road and proceeded to attempt to shoot one another

Other varieties include:

Bitch fight

Throwdown

Slam poetry sessions

Iron Chef

The first thing Derek thinks is: holy fuck. Because the brunette is kind of gorgeous, in a please wrap your legs around me and take me now sort of way. He wonders for a moment if there is going to commence some sort of half-clothed smack-down ritual in which the local females compete for the chance to show him around (he has not spent the last fourteen nights awake and certainly not nervous and not watching the Elk Week specials on the Discovery Channel).

(And French definitely hasn't told him that such rituals are not only commonplace but somewhat accepted in public school.)

"Oh," says Kendra, looking disappointed. "Hello, Casey."

Derek automatically shies away from the figure who stands, hands on hips and eyes narrowed (see: Power Pose), at the end of the hallway. Any thoughts of a vaguely sexual nature immediately flee, scattering their belongings and forgoing women and children as they retreat.

"Derek, I presume?" says That Woman in a very no-nonsense sort of tone. It is clear she has had plenty of years to get used to people taking her orders. "Good, you're not terribly late, we can still make it to Lassiter's office in time for the welcome meeting."

As Kendra sulkily slips Derek her phone numbers and slinks off, Casey McDonald walks down the hall, her sensible heels clicking in a walk so professional that it automatically causes Derek (used to the sound of threatening high heels after living with Nora McDonald for fifteen years) to raise his self-defense mechanisms to Defcon 7.

So he does what he considers the only acceptable action under the circumstances.

"Holy hell, what is that?" (And he bolts.) He is gone by the time Casey has finished looking around the staircase to see what he had pointed at in stark terror.

Casey Venturi tells herself that it is the last time she will ever fall for that juvenile trick.

(Side note three: It isn't.)

Power Pose, noun – used by the bearer to convey authority so as to avoid other, messier forms of compulsion

Other, messier forms of compulsion include:

Blackmail

Headlocks

Threats/Bribery

Kicks to the shin

In what she considers to be a very logical move, Casey retreats for the time being to rally and gather her troops (read: Emily Davis [best friend], Sheldon Schlepper [Student Council minion], Noel Covington [Poetry Club co-president], Sam Richards [close friend], Max Miller [boyfriend]) and prepare for the next meeting.

Derek slinks into the cafeteria mid-fourth period, obviously having given up lurking near the athletic fields in favor of sustenance, and Casey's trap closes around him with admirable aplomb.

"Hey, you must be Derek," says Emily, immediately latching onto his arm. Casey notes with something tinging on disapproval that she is far more into her role in this plan than she has been in previous ones (see: Davis, Emily, Crushes of) as Emily skillfully swings Derek towards their lunch table. "Casey didn't mention that you were cute. In fact, I think she mostly mentioned nothing about you at all."

By the time Derek smells set-up, he's been wedged into the table by Max and Sam on each side, both of whom are shoveling food into their mouths and staring determinedly ahead, and Casey takes a satisfying bite out of her apple (organic).

"Hello, Derek," she says.

"Oh," he says. "Casey Venturi. Fancy seeing you here."

Her smile is vicious. "Nice of you to join us. As you so rudely decided to leave for the beginning half of the day, I suppose we're just going to have to make more out of the time we have remaining." She takes a bag of Doritos out of her shoulder bag and places it on the table, just out of Derek's reach (briberius profundis, known to be uncommonly effective amongst the males of the Venturi family). His pupils dilate in hunger and the prospect of junk food that he hasn't been able to touch in Nora or Lizzie's presence in three years. Casey's smile tightens at the corner.

"What are we talking?"

"Spanish, Canadian History, free period in the library, then a quick Student Council session and five minutes to check in on the Poetry Club."

"Lose the Student Council and poetry."

"No deal," says Casey, tapping her nail on the Doritos. "Sheldon, you didn't happen to get those figures from Jeff for the Spring Outdoor Festival and Bonanza, did you?"

"Actually," says Sheldon, pulling a thick notebook from his backpack and giving Derek a sympathetic glance, "I did."

"Wonderful," says Casey. She unpacks her sandwich, opens the bag of Doritos, and cordially offers Max and Sam a chip each as she begins on her cheese and watercress sandwich. "Why don't you run through the budget estimations first, and we'll move onto projected fundraising in a second—"

"No poetry," says Derek in a strangled voice.

"Deal," says Casey, and hands him the bag of Doritos.

Davis, Emily, Crushes of

Max Miller (grades 3-4)

Lucas Worthington (grade 5)

Sheldon Schlepper (grades 5-10)

Derek McDonald (five minutes, twenty-seven seconds) (and counting)

"So . . . what do you do?" asks the Neanderthal halfway through a Canadian History class that is so mind-numbing so as to be termed horrific (Derek took Canadian History last year, thanks, and he got enough of the siege of Quebec to last a lifetime). "You know, for fun."

When staring him down fails to work, Derek decides to take another road (mockery). "Oh, I play football."

"Really?" says the Neanderthal, sounding excited. "So do I!"

"Wonderful," says Derek. "Maybe we can toss around a pig-skin. Like, next period."

"Nice try," says That Woman from her seat next to Derek. She is taking color-coded notes, flicking her head up to see the professor and down towards her page in a scarily synchronized motion. Derek isn't an idiot when it comes to school, but even he doesn't have note-taking down to an art. "Derek directs, Max," she adds, changing to a blue pen. "He doesn't play a sport."

"Oh." The Neanderthal deflates. "That's too bad."

"Horrifying," says Derek dryly.

"What do you direct?" asks The Stoner, who is on Casey's other side. "Traffic?"

Derek grits his teeth and shoulders his weapon. "Movies."

"Like Dawson?" pipes in That Woman's Best Friend from behind him.

"Yes, exactly like Dawson," interrupts That Woman before Derek has the chance to intervene and save himself from becoming James Van Der Geek's clone for the remainder of his high school career. "He's also a douche, like Dawson."

(Side note four: Being popular had not been this hard at St. Victoire's, as everybody knew that Derek McDonald was Artsty without being a Pansy, Smart without being a Keener, and Attractive without being Gay. Keeping that precious balance was like elementary school mathematics compared to dealing with Casey Venturi.)

(Side note five: Derek sees himself as more of a Pacey.)

"Oh," says The Stoner, who no longer sounds mean, but rather sympathetic. "Having never seen Dawson's Creek, I wouldn't know."

"Don't lie," says That Woman, switching back to red pen for a neat timeline along the bottom half of the page. "With all of your sisters, you've probably seen more Dawson's Creek episodes than even Emily."

The Stoner grimaces and punches That Woman in the shoulder. "Thanks for the love, Case."

The Neanderthal, who looks like all of this is going over his head, sort of half-shrugs and goes back to doodling on his notes. Derek bows his head and begins to gently beat it against the desk.

"Don't worry," whispers That Woman's Best Friend from behind him. "You'll get used to Sam and Casey. It's a used-to-be-going-out thing."

Derek gives a strangled sigh and folds his head into his arms. "I'm sure," he says, trying not to sound like he wishes he was currently anywhere else, including in the middle of one of Truman French's more hairbrained schemes or Lizzie's environmental rallies. (He fails miserably at this.)

"Derek," snaps That Woman a few minutes later. "Derek!"

"What?" he demands.

"I've got a free period now," she says, hands on her hips. "Come along."

"You just wait," he murmurs darkly after the clack of her sensible shoes trails out of the classroom. "This is not over."

"Derek!" she trills. "Are you coming or do I need to make a leash?"

"I wouldn't wander down any dark alleys any time soon," he says through clenched teeth, and makes sure to check her in the shoulder on his way out the door. "After you, Princess."