A/N: I attribute this side fic to midnight madness. Well, all right. Maybe it's not madness, but having a bloody commercial song stuck in one's head for hours on end can very well drive one mad. So, here is the proceeds of near-madness. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Yea, I'm like John Kerry's rich wife, the Heinz heiress. I'm the heiress to Oscar Mayer. Because I love by-product hotdogs and baloney made of who-knows-what parts of dead animals. Dang, you figured it out already? You're right; I don't own Oscar Mayer or their cursedly catchy song. I would've bet that you never would've guessed that.

Not Everyone Loves Oscar Mayer Wieners

It was a Saturday afternoon, and Casey, Edwin and Lizzie sat on the couch, a particularly boring rerun from a sitcom blaring in the background as they covertly watched Derek escort yet another girl out the door; this one's name was Wendy.

"Sickening," Casey muttered, focusing her attention back on the television screen as soon as the front door had clicked shut.

Lizzie nodded in agreement.

Edwin frowned at the screen, looking highly displeased. "Sure." He had been in a bad mood since the day before, when he had returned from school.

"Nora!" Marti called from the dining room table, where she was scribbling in a coloring book. "I want a baloney sandwich!"

Nora, who was working on a presentation in the kitchen, complied with the little girl's wishes, smiling to herself as Marti began singing, "Oooh, I wish I were an Oscar Mayer wiener! That is what I truly wish to beee!" She hopped out of her chair and pranced around the living room, obviously yearning for some kind of attention. "'Cause if I were an Oscar Mayer wiener, everyone would be in love with meee!"

"Woo hoo!" Lizzie cheered, standing and dancing with her stepsister.

Casey laughed and, tired of the boring show, rose to her feet, as well, singing along with Marti's merry tune.

Edwin watched the girls silently, though normally he would have goaded them along or joined in the frivolity.

"Come on, Ed," Lizzie prompted, spinning Marti in a circle.

"Yea, Edwin! Don't be such a party pooper!" Marti squealed, giggling as Casey continued the verses.

"Oh, we wish we could be Oscar Mayer wieners!"

"That is what we truly wish to beee," Lizzie sang, bursting into laughter directly afterwards.

"'Cause if Edwin was an Oscar Mayer wiener, everyone would be in love with hiiim!" Marti squeaked, tapping Edwin on the head with a crayon.

Enjoying themselves, Casey and Lizzie played off this rewording of the well-known song's lyrics. "Edwin wishes he was an Oscar Mayer wiener! That is what he truly wishes to beee!"

Edwin appeared thoroughly frustrated as he glared at the girls.

"Everyone would be in love with hiiim!" Marti finished again, preparing to start over.

"People would only be in love with me if I was Derek!" Edwin snapped loudly before storming out of the room. The girls' merrymaking ceased instantly.

Nora hovered in the doorway with Marti's sandwich, watching Edwin stomping up to the attic. She situated the girl, who seemed hurt by her brother's outburst (more so by the fact that he had yelled at her), at the table before approaching her daughters. "One of you should go talk to him," she said in a hushed voice. George, who would have normally--and probably inadequately--dealt with the situation was out of town for a meeting with some of the "big guys" at his law firm and would be gone for the rest of the weekend, a time period, which was probably a bit too long to let Edwin's tween-to-teen emotions fester. "I have to work on my presentation. It needs to be finished by Monday."

Casey and Lizzie exchanged glances, Lizzie clearly not wanting to deal with her hormonal stepbrother and Casey reluctantly trying to be selfless for her sister, who was experiencing her own hormonal changes enough as it was.

"I'll go," she offered with a slight sigh before turning and heading up to her youngest stepbrother's bedroom.

"Thanks, Casey," Nora said, sounding truly grateful.

Casey softly knocked on Edwin's door, pondering what exactly she was going to say to him. It was obvious the kid was upset about not being as cool as his idol, who was, unfortunately, Derek, and that something had happened that Friday to diminish his self-confidence so.

"What?" Edwin barked from inside, sounding far too much like his brother.

"It's Casey. Can I come in?" Casey inquired politely, waiting for Edwin's muttered capitulation before opening the door. "Hey, kiddo," she greeted casually, taking a seat at the foot of his bed, where he was sprawled unceremoniously, looking angsty and very much like one's typical, foul-tempered teenager.

He looked at her expectantly, and she returned the look, offering him a supportive smile. "What's wrong?" she asked.

Edwin sighed, shrinking back into his normal self slightly before putting on a scowl. "You wouldn't understand."

Casey raised an eyebrow. "You know, I was your age only four years ago," she pointed out.

"Well, you're you," Edwin retaliated standoffishly.

Casey scanned the walls briefly, trying to formulate a plan. Snatching one out of thin air, she looked back at Edwin. "Well, if you don't want to tell me what's going on, can I at least tell you what I think is making you so upset?"

"Go ahead," Edwin murmured, forcing apathy. Just how obvious was he being?

"I think that you want to be cool--" He almost interrupted with a, "Duh.", but her look stopped him. "As cool as--Oh, I don't know--Derek?"

Edwin shrugged sheepishly. "I guess."

"You know Derek's the coolest kid at Sir John Sparrow Thompson High; right?" Casey asked.

"Well, yea," Edwin replied. "And I'm his brother, so shouldn't I be cool, too?"

"You are cool!" He gave her a skeptical look. "What makes you think you aren't?"

Edwin flushed slightly. "Nothing!" He answered too quickly. "I just--I don't feel cool."

Casey snorted. "What does cool 'feel' like?"

"Well, I dunno. Like . . . like having lots of friends and girlfriends and being popular and--"

"All things Derek has?" Casey finished dryly.

Edwin shrugged again. "Yea. I guess so."

Once more, Casey searched for a plan. Then, it hit her. "Okay, think about it like this: Derek is an Oscar Mayer wiener."

Edwin raised his eyebrows. "What?"

"Everyone's in love with him--"

"Exactly! That's what I want!"

"You didn't let me finish," Casey chastised. "It seems like everyone loves him, but there are plenty of people who don't."

"Oh yea? Like who?" Edwin challenged.

"Like . . . His teachers. They don't love him at all," Casey declared smugly.

"They don't matter," Edwin countered.

"Well . . . I don't love him. See?" She nodded proudly. "And don't say I don't matter," she warned, catching the mischievous glint in Edwin's eye.

"I wasn't going to," Edwin responded innocently. "I was gonna say that you do love him."

Casey, who had been looking around the room, trying to give Edwin time to think about the lesson she was teaching, did a double take. "What? I--I do not!"

"Do, too." Edwin smirked. "And, you're a really bad liar, by the way."

Casey ignored the heat rising to her cheeks. "What I'm trying to say is that not everyone loves Oscar Mayer wieners. Some people like kosher hotdogs or soydogs instead. It all depends on the person." Perhaps, if she went back to the analogy in the subject, Edwin's speculation would go away.

"But Derek's like all of those rolled into one; isn't he?" Edwin was enjoying messing with her head.

"No, he's not," Casey bit out sternly, rising from Edwin's bed. "I think you're better now, so I'm just gonna--"

"I don't think Derek knows, so you're safe," Edwin stated, his tone mocking.

Casey's stricken look was the last he saw before she slipped out of the room and shut the door behind her, cheeks flaming and stomach filled with butterflies. Who knew the kid knew so much about the people in the house?

-----

Curfew was at midnight on weekends, and typically, everyone was asleep or in their rooms by the time Derek returned from his dates, if they were good; if not, he returned far earlier than curfew and hogged the television all evening.

His date with Wendy had apparently gone very well, for he returned just as the clock struck midnight. Casey, who had been unable to sleep, thanks to Edwin's unsettling words, was sitting in the living room when Derek entered. She glanced up from her book before dismissing him silently as he hung up his leather jacket.

"You're still up?" he asked upon noticing her sitting there, shrouded in darkness but for the single lamp she had turned on.

"Yes," she replied shortly. A moment's thought led her to continue with, "I need to talk to you about something."

Derek let out a fake yawn, turning toward the stairs. "Actually, sis, I'm beat. I'm gonna head up to bed. Don't stay up too--"

"Derek." The urgency in her voice stopped him. "It's about Edwin."

He was frowning slightly as he faced her. "Edwin?"

"He . . . he wants to be just like you."

Derek quirked an eyebrow and smirked his infamous smirk. "Don't they all?" he asked cockily, grinning at Casey's offended look. "Listen, Case. Maybe you don't get it; I'm me. Everybody loves me."

"Well, I guess that makes me one in six billion," Casey bit out, angry that he couldn't take his younger brother's problem seriously for even a minute.

"One in six billion who what?" Derek asked, approaching her shrewdly.

"One in six billion who isn't in love with you," Casey replied in monotone, worried by the way his eyes flashed as he neared.

He put his hand on her shoulder as he reached her. "Oh, you're in love with me--you're just one in six billion who's completely in denial about it."

"Confident, are we?"

"Defensive?"

"More like disgusted," Casey retorted deftly, shrugging his hand away and sweeping past him to go upstairs. She turned on the landing, grinning in satisfaction. "Not everyone loves Oscar Mayer wieners, Derek." With that, she ascended the stairs, leaving Derek in contemplative silence. She had certainly stumped him, though, if her rapid pulse was any indication, Edwin wasn't the only one moved by everyone's favorite B-O-L-O-G-N-A.

A/N: That was actually really fun to write. Sure, there was no fluffy, flufftastic-ness, but I'm exhausted. Review if you like!

Post Script: Fanfiction isn't sending me updates, yet again. I hate it when that happens! Ergh! Are you guys having the same problem? Were you even alerted that this story exists?