Ocean

Casey scowled at the television, wishing in vain that some arbitrary impulse would make Derek change the channel to something other than padded testosterone on ice, though they both knew that since it was Saturday, he was entitled to his hockey fix, according to a contract they had had George draw up after months of being housemates.

Alas, Derek sat in his chair, as unaware of Casey's existence as ever and swathed in a knit throw cover of solid blue. Cold, December wind swirled around the house, making the end of Casey's long week seem even drearier.

The only warmth in the room, excluding Casey's fuzzy socks and that tantalizing Skylab blanket, was seven year old Marti, who was prancing around the dining room table, pretending she and Melanie, Daphne's successor, were performing a dance routine; she had taken after her eldest stepsister where dance was concerned. "Casey, Smerek, watch!" she squealed as she did a plié toward the couch.

Casey smiled wearily. "That's very good, Marti."

"Uh huh, yeah. Awesome, Smarti," Derek agreed distractedly, not looking away from the screen.

After five days of exams and an early dance recital that morning, Casey was beat. She reclined on the couch, finding the swishing of skates on ice almost soothing when she shut her eyes and imagined that she was somewhere else.

Behind closed lids, she could make-believe that she was spending the winter on a sun-basked island. The skates made a great substitute for the actual whisper of wind through palm leaves. The ref's incessant whistle-blowing became the caws of green-winged parrots overhead. Marti's giggling resembled that of a happy, chattering monkey. Even the screams of the fans and Derek's occasional whoops and boos were transformed into the more soothing sound of the surf crashing against the shore.

The sand, rippling ever so slightly when the breeze kicked up, warmed Casey's toes, sending heat up to her waist but not managing to thaw her freezing upper body, which shivered against the faintly blustery weather.

She stood up and began twirling on the island, able to taste the salt of the sea and smell the fish that swam beneath its surface. The ecstasy of being away from everyone and everything that had been troubling her lately overtook her, pulling a bubbling laugh out of her mouth. Another gust of cold hit her, and she shuddered into sobriety. It was that moment that gave her the idea to jump into the undulating waters. They looked so inviting and warm and blue that she was unable to resist. She ran down the beach and dove into the ocean. Immediately, the sounds that had surrounded her disappeared, and a second later, Casey was engulfed in pleasurable heat. She barely had to kick her legs to keep swimming, floating in safe, balmy nothingness.

---

"Hell yeah!" Derek cheered loudly, letting out a round of applause; the game was over, and his team had won.

"Shh, Smerek!" Marti hissed, smacking her older brother on the arm. "Casey's sleeping!"

Derek glanced at his sleeping stepsister, smirking slightly. "How 'bout we mess with her, Smarti?" he whispered mischievously.

"No, Smerek," Marti replied firmly.

"Fine," Derek sighed, grudgingly clicking off the T.V., tossing his cover over the back of his chair, and sprinting upstairs after casting one last tempted look at Casey.

"Hmm," Marti murmured as she got an awfully mischievous idea herself. With a smirk very much like her older brother's, she grabbed Derek's blue blanket and placed it over Casey's shoulders, carefully pulling it down so it covered the rest of her body. Satisfied with her work, she sat down near Casey's feet, turning on the television and waiting, knowing that Derek had a game recap to watch in a half hour.

---

Casey snapped awake as Derek's obnoxious eating noises tore through her slumber. She stretched out her arms and yawned, feeling the cloth she hadn't noticed before. She opened her eyes and stared down at her stomach, which was covered in blue. It took her a moment to register that it was Derek's blanket, but when she did, she cracked a smile. Turning to face her stepbrother, she grinned at him over the arm of the couch, eyes half shut, cheeks a well-rested, rosy color.

Derek, cheeks full of potato chips, raised an eyebrow at her. "What?" he demanded gruffly, shoving another handful into his mouth.

Marti watched from the end of the couch, chin propped in her palms, as Casey rolled her eyes, though admiring light still flickered in them. She just figured Derek would never admit sensitivity. Standing, she wordlessly walked around his chair, dropping the blanket on his lap as she passed.

Derek frowned down at the cover, realization slowly dawning on him. Checking to make sure Casey had left the room, he rounded on his baby sister. "Smarti," he growled mock-angrily; his eyes twinkled with laughter.

"Smerek," Marti countered, innocent look in place.

Derek let out a chuckle and fleetingly turned back to the post-game show before hopping up from his chair and chasing after the seven year-old, who was already halfway to the stairs and giggling triumphantly. What strangely appropriate plots could come from a blanket of ocean blue.

A/N: Review if you like.