A/N: IMPORTANT. This is chapter 8. I highly recommend that you read the companion one-shot "Oversexed Siblings" first. I wrote it after writing this chapter, however you will get a much more in-depth description of a scene from this chapter, that here you only get a mere snapshot of (literally). It also takes place during seasons 2 and 3 of the show, and also explains a bit of how Derek and Casey get together. Definitely go read that, and then come back and read this chapter. Of course, you can easily find it in my profile. I worked very hard to fact check, and make any changes I needed to make for that one-shot to match up to this chapter, so I hope I caught everything. Thanks! Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Life With Derek, House Hunters, the Boston Bruins, Red Sox, or Celtics, or Degrassi.

Derek's POV

Casey did, in fact, take the afternoon off. We both went home, intent on entertaining our guests, but I think our guests had something up their sleeves. Sam suddenly had some work to do and took his laptop down to the coffee shop. Delia wanted to show Emily a bridal shop her cousin runs. That left Trevor, who made his excuse, lamest of them all, to see a movie. Trevor does seem like the 'see a movie alone' type, but it was pretty obvious the four of them were trying to give Casey and I some alone time. I think Casey just wanted to relax. The stress of her job has been enough on her, not to mention that until now she's been certain I was leaving. When they all left, she collapsed on the couch. I sat next to her, and she turned on "House Hunters", and it got me thinking about real estate again.

I'd been thinking about how spread out our family was about to become. Dad and Nora were back at home; Lizzie and Edwin had bought a house. Marti would be moving in with them for college, but she was looking into a foreign exchange program for at least one semester of her senior year. I know our parents have been driving her crazy, but the thought of her in some other country all by herself makes me nervous. More nervous than her dating makes me, which she's been doing entirely too much of, with me in another country. If Dimmy is anything toward Marti like Emily used to be toward me, I think I've got a right to be nervous. And if Marti is anything like me, I definitely have a right. So I'm an overprotective big brother, sue me!

Our parents weren't "empty nesters", they were excited about the thought of all that freedom. Dad only works four days a week now, and Nora three, surprising for a couple with five kids, one of whom still has college to attend. And Casey and I were moving to Maine. Not that it matters, but if I could manage to get pulled up to the Bruins specifically early in the season, Casey and I could come back here, where Lizzie, Edwin, soon Marti and the new baby would be. I think Casey wants to leave now, though. I definitely can't blame her, but I'm already feeling homesick.

Which brings me back to real estate. I'd been thinking I should buy a house or a nice large apartment. A permanent home, for the off-season and for when I'm too old and don't play anymore. A place big enough for children. But where? London, my childhood home? Boston, where Lizzie and Edwin are? Maybe Toronto; near home, but a city with opportunities. This was something to think about more seriously once I was in the majors. I know I shouldn't expect to move up, plenty of players stay in the minors their entire career. But I'd had talks with my coach, who said that I'd probably be pulled up within a year, and that this most recent trade was most likely only a short stopover. I'm twenty-six, certainly old enough.

As the family onscreen decided between a split-level ranch and a colonial I realized how happy I had become with the proposal. How ready I was. The show wrapped up and knowing I was very lucky that everybody had vacated the apartment, I pulled Casey into the bedroom.

"Derek, what if they come back?"

"Tough." As I unbutton her shirt I ask, "Hey you'll have quit by the time we go home for Nora's birthday next month, right?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Well I was thinking after we leave there we could go on a vacation. Since it's the off-season, and you won't be working, we could be gone for a while. What do you say?"

"I say I'll pack my bags."

I think it's pretty obvious what happens next. It was different somehow, though. Like Casey was reacting to what had happened earlier in the day. It was, for lack of a better way of putting it, more comfortable than it had been in a long time. Relaxed. Which helped me relax, because I knew things were working out. And when everyone got back I think they could tell that things were better between us.

The week went quickly. Casey worked for the rest of the week, and I had business to attend to, even though the season was long over. Thursday, Edwin called and said that Lizzie had had to see the doctor again, and that she was kind of weak. Over the years I have discovered that Casey sometimes thrives on freaking out, because she worried a lot more than the rest of us.

Finally, it was Friday. The day that we'd all been looking forward to seemed to stretch on forever. I picked up Edwin and Lizzie at the airport at two. Lizzie seemed pretty okay to me. Maybe not as full of energy as usual, a little tired. I asked Edwin to explain more thoroughly what was wrong, and he said it wasn't anything to freak out over, that she was just weak and shouldn't exert herself. Sam, Delia, Trevor and Emily had taken this opportunity to pack up so they would be ready to go home tomorrow. Casey would be getting home around 5:45, so Edwin and Lizzie and I worked together to get ready for the evening. Lizzie had been adamant that Casey have an elegant, luxurious (read: expensive) proposal. She said, and I quote "Casey thrives on all those cheesy things you read in books. Basically it's all going to make you want to roll your eyes." And yes, parts of it did. The thing is, from the time she came home, Casey was going to figure out what was going on, I just know it. By the time I actually said the words she'd been dying to hear, she'd have known I was going to say them for a good while. Because it's all so obvious. None of this is anything she'd become accustomed to; she'd know something was up. Edwin has no idea how easy he had it. Lizzie was happy with being surprised by his being back at home and a nice dinner. Yes, I was proposing at dinner, but it was all the incidentals leading up to it. Casey was going to make this hard on me. But then, Casey was always a challenge. And that's always been my favorite thing about her.

Edwin's POV

I think people should get to take a honeymoon more than once. Lizzie and I could so do this again. It was great. Now I could tell you we never left the hotel room, but please, we all know that's just a stupid stereotype. Oh, believe me, we had plenty of fun there too, but that's not all. Thanks to Lizzie's interest and career in the theatre, we saw a Broadway show every night. We ate great food. We went to the zoo, and saw many of the city sights. That first afternoon, when Liz fainted, I worried, but the doctor said she was okay. Then Thursday, it happened again, and when I brought her back to the same doctor, and he consulted with her regular one, they decided together that she get plenty of rest and not exert herself too much. It wasn't hard. We only had a day left before we came home, and finding less strenuous activities than the ones planned wasn't too hard. Not in the city that never sleeps, anyway.

Casey's POV

I got home a little early today, excited to see Lizzie and Edwin again, but no one was home. I thought it was weird that the place was so empty, but maybe they were at Ed and Liz's. I hit the button, noticing the answering machine light was flashing.

"You have three new messages."

"Derek, this is Bob Warren. We need sizes for your new uniform and a short bio for the website. Call me when you can. Thanks."

"Derek? Casey? Whichever one of you gets this first, let Emily know that I used the spare key she left me to sleep on her couch. In other words, I ran away. Don't worry; I'll go back in a couple of days. I was really angry. I was watching an old episode of Degrassi, one where Manny snuck into Emma's basement bedroom through the window, and Dad paid just enough attention to decide I had to move back upstairs. My only saving grace is having a floor between us. Hey, do you guys think you could talk to him? Well, just wanted to let Emily know. Thanks. Bye."

Marti has a temper. At the same time, Mom and George had gotten progressively overly strict since the four of us got out of the house. It was a lot easier to parent one child strictly than it was five, and all that slack they'd cut Marti as a child was being "made up" for now. I'll call George and see what I can do.

"Miss MacDonald, this is Elaine Westin at the Massachusetts Regional Writers Conference. Your piece has been selected as a winner, so you're getting a free ticket to the conference next month. Please call me at 555-8587 so we can further discuss your story. Thank you!"

I couldn't believe it. I never thought my piece, loosely based on my own life, but fictionalized, could have captured their attention. I mean, yes, the circumstances are attention getting, but I thought my writing was horrible. Derek always says that everyone is their own worst critic and that my stories are well written, but I'd always thought that was just how he kept himself out of the doghouse.

I went into the bedroom. I wanted to change clothes before I headed over to Lizzie and Edwin's, which is where I'm pretty sure everyone is. I noticed an envelope on the bed. I opened it and found what looked like an invitation.

It read:

Your presence is requested at dinner.

A taxi will pick you up downstairs at six.

Short but to the point. I had about thirty minutes to get ready. I slipped into my new black halter dress and sling backs, threw my hair into a French twist, and reapplied my makeup. I figured if "my presence is requested" and a "taxi will pick me up" and judging just by the general style of the invitation that I should err on the fancy side of things. During that time I wondered what Derek was up to. This was obviously his doing.

I threw my stuff into a handbag and headed downstairs. The first thing I noticed when I got into the taxi was that we headed toward the ballpark. I happen to have a favorite restaurant in that area, and I'd always make Derek take me there when I agreed to see the Sox or the Celtics or the Bruins. It was a kind of a deal we had worked out. When he wanted me to go with him to a sports event, he'd take me to my favorite restaurant. If I wanted him to go to the ballet with me, I'd take him to a sports bar.

The spirit of compromise wasn't original to our relationship. It started when Derek made the varsity hockey team in high school. He wanted me to come to his games; I was a "good luck charm". I'd seen what being a good luck charm did for Edwin and Marti, not to mention that at the time I understood less about hockey than I understood how to break the news about my then new relationship to Emily. So I marched into Paul's office ready to rant.

"Paul, Derek wants me to come to all of his hockey games." Paul knew that Derek and I were together; he was actually partially responsible.

"And you don't want to because you don't like hockey, right?"

"It's not just that I don't like it, I don't understand it. And it's like he wants me there as a trophy. He said I was a good luck charm."

"But no one knows about your relationship. So how would that make you a trophy?"

"Okay. True. But a good luck charm?"

"Well the last time Derek was in here…"

"Derek comes in here on his own?"

"Well he's only been in here three times."

"What do you talk about?"

"That's confidential. But we did talk over his career options. Casey did you know he is already being scouted by colleges and he's barely a junior?"

"I know. A few European schools are even scouting him. They all like his hockey skills, but his grades leave a lot to be desired."

"Have you and Derek ever talked about what he wants to do with his life?"

"He wants to play hockey. But I know little enough about it, that I don't know if that's even a plausible idea."

"Even if it isn't, he wants it to be. So don't you think that if he gets good vibes or pride or happiness from you being there for something that he wants to make a life out of someday that maybe you should consider it?"

"Hmm. Maybe you're right. Or maybe I'd agree to see all of his hockey games if he'd agree to come to my dance recitals."

"That seems fair. You could learn, and I realize that with two headstrong people like you two that this word isn't really in your vocabulary, to compromise."

"Compromise? Sounds tough."

"Well, it's not supposed to be easy, Casey. You have to be willing to give up something."

With that I had walked out and convinced Derek that he should come to my dance recitals. Practically every time I would go to Paul's office it was about Derek. And every time I came out thinking differently than when I went in. Why didn't I just stop going? I'm kidding, of course.

Expecting the car to stop at the restaurant, I was surprised when it kept going. Then it headed somewhere else familiar, a much more recent memory, the hotel where Lizzie and Edwin had their wedding. I hadn't seen Derek act so romantic since we moved to Boston and truthfully, those four years of college, living alone, were different for us than any of the other years we'd known each other. Suddenly I remembered a part of that evening I'd brushed off when it happened. I should have known better than to brush it off, but I didn't. When Lizzie and Edwin started their vows, Derek was staring at me, and when I forced myself to meet his gaze, he mouthed, "I love you this much". Now that I think properly about it, by "this much" he must have meant he was willing to marry me. When I saw it though, I was so focused on making sure he didn't leave me that I didn't realize he never intended to. And again, now that I think properly about it, I realize that while I apologized to everyone else that I drove crazy recently, I never really apologized to Derek. That makes me rather mad at myself. The second I get the chance I will.

Finally the car stopped. We were at a small pub. It was where we took Lizzie and Edwin out to dinner their first night when they moved in with us. I look at the driver.

"I'll be waiting here, you are supposed to come back out soon."

"Thank you."

So there's a stopover? Unexpected. I went inside and found the hostess. She handed me a small book of pictures with a note that said, "to help with the last leg of the trip down memory lane." I took the pictures, thanked the hostess, and got back in the taxi.

I opened the album. The first picture was of Mom and George's wedding. It was taken only days after our first meeting. This one earned a grin from me as I remembered our bickering and my constant attempts to split up Mom and George. There was a caption underneath that read "I wonder how we would have reacted if someone had told us we'd start dating not even a year and half later?" Exactly.

The second picture was of Derek and I dressed up like Percy and Mary Shelley. I'd found that entire experience so ironic. Derek had only made fun of my grubbing at home. At school he'd done as much as he could to save my rep, a big step from his "Klutzilla" nicknaming days. And when I'd grubbed to help him pass English, he'd been much nicer than I'd expected him to be about it. Also, that was back when we hated each other, and already we were dressing up like famous romantic married writers. So ironic.

Picture number three was of me on crutches after he'd stolen the remote from me. That one housed the caption; "I wasn't much of a guy then, though I'd never admit it. Maybe you forgave me, but I always felt awful that I caused you any sort of pain. I'm also sorry I caused you so much pain recently. I should have dealt with it differently. I love you."

That was unexpected. Tears landed on the picture, because I'm the one who owes him an apology.

Picture four was of Sam and I. The caption simply read, "I was jealous." I laughed.

The fifth picture was of Derek, Sheldon and I at the school elections. "I should have paid more attention to you and your platform. However, Emily did make a surprisingly fantastic president."

The next one was of our first D-Rock performance at the battle of the bands, Derek and I almost grinding. It was captioned, "If I'd caught whoever leaked that footage, they'd have paid. And yet it was such a turning point for us." After Derek's and my little sexy dance together onstage, an emailed video had spread through the school like wildfire entitled "oversexed siblings". It was the results of this video that caused Derek and I to vehemently deny, and then later when we actually were together, hide our relationship from our schoolmates, Emily, Sam, and eventually Trevor excluded. The rest of the school didn't find out until our senior trip, when we decided we wouldn't ruin our own trip because of some school idiots.

This was followed with a picture of Lizzie and Scott at a soccer game. Underneath was written, "I wasn't mature enough to realize my behaving like that was wrong. Not yet. But I was definitely mature enough to know how furious it made me with him. Definitely a step in the right direction. I couldn't let anyone hurt you."

The next was a picture of the principals' office, paired with Derek's old student card. (Sentimental me forced him to keep that kind of stuff.) This one read, "I gained a new respect for you that day, Prankster."

The next picture was of Lizzie and Edwin at their birthday party, dancing together. This one said "if only it had been this simple for us!"

There were dozens more like this, from high school, college, and the more recent ones, too. My favorite was our high school graduation photo. Derek and I were in our cap and gowns, our arms around each other, and big smiles on our faces. I liked this photo because it was one of the rare, few opportunities when we could be happy for ourselves and each other, without our parents getting too suspecting. They thought that for such a special occasion, we'd just put aside our differences. And now that they do know, we have pictures like that. Odd thought: does that make Derek and I high school sweethearts? Because that so just does not fit who we are.

Another favorite: our first day in our apartment in Boston after everyone left. I actually recognized this as a series of stills from Derek's video. There were several of these stills throughout the album. If Derek was ever injured and couldn't play hockey anymore, he could definitely make a living with his filming. He might not be good enough for Hollywood, but he could certainly go the indie route.

I'd gotten through the pictures in about twenty minutes, almost exactly the amount of time it took the driver to go from the pub to Lizzie and Edwin's house. I like that he gave me this opportunity, to go through my memories alone. I'd been crying for practically the entire ride. It's been a long time since I could take a trip down memory lane, and this was nice. I took my stuff from the cab and got out of the car, just as Edwin came out of the house and handed the driver some cash.

"Hey Casey." He threw his arms around me.

"Hey Ed. How's Liz? Better I hope."

"I told you it's nothing to worry about, she just needs to rest."

As he walked me inside, I took note of his slacks, button up shirt, and sports jacket. I was happy to see I'd worn the right attire. He looks a lot more natural in this than he did at Mom and George's wedding, or at dinner with my father. Seems he'd grown into the look. Still, every time I saw him wearing something like that, my mind goes straight back to twelve year old Edwin pitching his game about gas. We went inside, and I found Emily talking to Lizzie. My sister did indeed look tired. Still as soon as she saw me, she jumped up and gave me a big hug.

"Casey! How are you?"

"I'm great. You should sit down though. What is that wonderful smell? Where's Derek?"

"Derek is out back barbecuing, and that smell is pork and sausage."

"Mmmm. I haven't had Derek's barbecue since our last trip back home. Thanks to the lack of grill at the apartment. I didn't know you had one here."

It was a little known fact, that I, Casey the health food freak, had a soft spot for barbecue, specifically when Derek prepared it. I know what you're thinking, barbecue? But I love it.

As I headed outside, I passed through the kitchen and found Delia tossing a salad and Trevor pouring tea. I knew Trevor was a fellow writer and was tempted to tell him about my winning piece, but decided I'd wait until dinner and tell everyone. I think I might have time to call the woman first, too.

Sam was on the small deck with Derek, who was adorable with that cheesy apron reading, "If you can't stand the heat, get back in the kitchen and away from the barbecue." I remembered when George had given it to him. He'd been in a barbecuing phase, which is something he'd be into for four or five months at a time, trying to barbecue three or four nights a week. Derek didn't put effort into a lot, but something about standing in front of a grill became an obsession for him. Sort of like those fights on the ice. At any rate, George had been on an errand at a department store, and during his trek through the home department, he'd spotted the apron and later presented it to Derek at home. Derek had relished the apron, because since staining a new favorite shirt he'd decided he had to have one, and the ruffled purple floral one belonging to Mom wasn't cutting it. Especially since Emily had still been spying at him out her bedroom window at the time.

Derek heard me greet Sam, and in return, held out a fork with a piece of sausage on it for me. I ate it, and then asked him how much time I had before dinner was served. He said ten minutes, which gave me enough time to call Elaine Westin and ask a question or two. I walked into the small office and dialed.

"Hello."

"Ms. Westin? Casey MacDonald here. I was just calling because you left me a message earlier. About my piece."

"Yes! Your piece was just phenomenal. Every year, our top submission goes through a review board, and if it is deemed good enough, with the writers' permission, it can be published."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying your piece about the star crossed lovers and their similarly-fated siblings has been reviewed by a publishing house and if you let us, it would be packaged in a compilation of short novels and could be stocked in bookstores everywhere after going through the editing process."

Fascinating. That garbled up mess of a story, that was great when it was really happening, but really lost something in translation on paper, was supposed to turn into a novel. Well, novella. A novella that I wrote. I always thought that was impossible. But could I really out my own life story to the world? Sure, it wasn't factual, but the basis of it, two sets of stepsiblings who fell for each other, was the same. Surely it was bound to get out I'd had some experience in the matter. Hell, I could see the back cover picture blurb now:

Casey MacDonald, a transplant to New England from London, Ontario, lives with her own stepbrother, who she is in love with.

I mean, the readers who liked the story would get a kick out of it, sure. But the ones who overreacted badly, like our schoolmates so long ago? I'm sure I'd be flooded with letters. Who knows what else? Maybe I don't want to publish it.

I left the privacy of the office to find everyone making their way to the dining room. I pulled Derek back into the room with me.

"I want to apologize."

"For…making your mascara run?"

"Heh. No. For the way I behaved recently. Keeping things from you, being angry, thinking things were bad with us, not communicating about it."

That familiar smirk was playing around the corners of his mouth. Oh! I just knew it. I knew he was going to get some sort of twisted satisfaction from an apology from me. But he smiled.

"Thanks. But uh, lets just put it behind us, huh?"

"Uh, sure." I honestly never expected that response. I figured he'd hold the fact that I actually managed to admit that I had something to apologize for over my head forever. But he just let it go. That's not like him. Just last week I was trying to break in my shoes for the wedding and I tripped; Klutzilla was halfway out of his mouth before he started coughing and pretending there was something in his throat. Then again, when it comes to the small things like that, he knows I get a kick out of the jokes.

"I have an announcement I want to make, let's go eat."

I headed out of the room while he just stared out at me, like I'd stolen his thunder or something. Weird. Eventually, he followed, brows furrowed about something. We all sat around the dinner table, while Emily passed out drinks, and Edwin served up food.

"So, everybody, I have an announcement. I got a phone call today."

"Great announcement. I got an email."

"Nice, Ed, but I got a call from Elaine Westin. She's the head of the Massachusetts Regional Writers Conference. She called me about my winning piece."

"A writers conference? Casey, that's amazing. I've been submitting pieces to the Central Ontario conference for years, you must have talent."

"Thanks Trevor. I've been submitting poems and short stories for several years, but this year I sent in a short novel, and it…well, it won the top prize."

"That's fantastic, Casey! What do you win?" this was from Emily.

"Free tickets for the conference and hotel stay, and my story could be included in a book of novellas."

"No way! You get published? You've been wishing for that since high school."

"I know, Liz. That's what makes the decision so hard."

"Decision? What decision? What's to decide? What writer could pass up getting published?"

"One who fictionalized their own life."

"You wrote about all this?"

"No. My story is completely different from my life…except for the two brothers falling for two sisters after their parents get married."

"I see your point."

The conversation turned to Lizzie's baby. Then it turned to Mom and George, which reminded me of that other phone call I got.

"Emily, Marti left a message too. She used that key you left, she's been sleeping on your couch for the past couple of days. Something about George deciding she had to move back upstairs."

"Okay, well as long as the place isn't trashed. I know what it's like to need to get away from your parents for a few days. Of course, when she goes back it'll only be worse. Surely your parents know she's safe, or they would have called."

"Yeah I think they know where she is. I think they just want to let her cool down. Though the reason they gave for moving her back upstairs means its kind of strange they'd let her be over there all alone for a few days."

"What happened?"

"Marti was watching an old Degrassi with Emma's basement sneak-in window, and George decided she had to get out of the basement."

"Wow."

"Yeah."

Eventually, the conversation started to get stale, at which point Derek went for the simple approach. I swear I didn't know what was happening, though he's convinced I knew from the cab ride and the pictures what was up. I just thought he was doing something special just to be doing something special. To cheer me up with all this crap at work.

Anyhow, like I said, he went for simple, which was a good idea, because when Derek starts to get too wordy, he steps all over his words and then gets himself in trouble.

"Casey, I know I've driven you crazy and I'm not perfect and I've hurt you more than I'd like to admit. I know I could be better, and I promise you that every day I try. If you could, I'd like you to look past all that. Marry me?"

"What, no ring?"

"You mean you haven't found it yet?"

I know I looked confused until Derek said "Case, every time we go out to dinner you go on and on about the centerpiece."

He's right, I did, that among other things. I just notice my surroundings. I think it's because my mom is an interior designer. I looked at the centerpiece on the table. The table Derek and I first dined at together. Then I saw the ring, hanging on one of the curls of the wrought iron candleholder.

The whole dynamic of our relationship is that I'm difficult. Well for him, and he's difficult for me. I couldn't just say "Oh yes!" I'm sure if I had, he'd have been incredibly disappointed. So I picked up the ring, handed it to him and said, "Well you have to put it on me first."

I have to hand it to him; he really tried. But he couldn't manage to keep from rolling his eyes and smirking when I said that. He did put it on me, and then I threw my arms around him and whispered, "of course I will."

Everyone started clapping and cheering and congratulating us. Lizzie got Mom and George on the speakerphone and we told them. We let Marti know as well. I tried to start cleaning up the table, but Derek told me he'd take Lizzie and Edwin to lunch for their trouble and that we should all go socialize before our friends went home. Which is what we did.

The next day, after we took our four houseguests to the airport, we went back to Lizzie and Edwin's. I expected we'd pick them up, but when we got there, Lizzie wasn't ready yet, because she's moving a little slower lately. Edwin came in with a surprise.

"These are for you."

"First class airplane tickets?"

"Remember last month when my stocks took a dive, so I sold them and bought shares in something else?"

"I remember you freaking out about stocks, yes."

"Well, the shares I bought have been bringing in quite a bit, and I had a little extra to play around with, so when we go home next month, I figured we could fly first class. There's really not enough room in those coach seats for a hockey forward's legs, or a pregnant woman's belly."

"Well, trust me Ed, as a hockey forward in the minors, I have plenty of experience stuffing my legs into coach seats, and it can be done. But I certainly don't mind the courtesy. Thanks."

"DEREK! Lizzie and Edwin are about to have a baby, they should be saving this money."

"Casey, trust me, Lizzie and I are financially comfortable. If we weren't, I wouldn't have bought the tickets. Take them, please."

"Oh. Um, fine. Thank you."

"Hey, guys. Sorry about the wait, I'm not used to all this fatigue."

"It's okay, Liz. It's Saturday, none of us has anywhere we have to go."

"Oh! Edwin, these are round trip tickets."

"Yeah…"

"We're not coming home after Mom's party. We're taking a trip. Derek's got his off season, and I'm going to be between jobs, so we're taking advantage of that."

"Oh. Well, I'll take care of it."

"Thanks."

Lizzie's POV

"So, Liz. You were supposed to be able to find out the sex of the baby at your last appointment, right?"

Edwin threw me an amused glare that said "I told you so."

"We're not finding out. We're going to wait and be surprised."

"Are you kidding me? Gosh, won't that drive you crazy? I'd go nuts!"

"Why? What's there to drive you nuts about? That you waited five more months to know something? It'll get here when it gets here, why obsess?"

"How are you going to dress your child?"

"In clothes."

"Edwin! This is no time for your snark!"

"I think it's the perfect time for his snark, Casey, you know I've always thought societal rules about dressing girls in pink and boys in blue were completely stupid."

"Yeah, don't you think you're overreacting? This isn't your choice to make, it's not your child." I think that was a semi-gutsy statement to make from the man who is going to father her children someday.

"Oh, whatever. Let's go get lunch."

Even when she's just been proposed to, Casey still manages to try to organize my life. Go figure.

A/N: So there you have, a proposal, for those of you who were wondering if there was ever going to be one. Also, I hope you guys didn't think that it was cheesy, Casey writing about that. I know she likes to write poetry, and I imagine if I were in Casey's situation, I'd totally write about it, so again, I hope that wasn't, like, contrived or anything. Tell me what you think!