Derek's Favorite Form of Torture7

Summary: Casey and Derek always have something to fight about, but what happens when Derek finds his favorite form of torture?

Rating: M (this is for a reason, so don't say I didn't warn you!!)

Disclaimer: "It used to be my mother and my sister and me. A happy little family, and alright with me. My mom got married, that's when everything changed. Some things were lost, and others were gained: a new school, a new house, so many changes it makes my head spin. Now I've got a brother who gets under my skin! This is life with Derek, this is life with Derek, this is life with Lizzie, Edwin, George and Nora, Marti and Casey. Livin' life with Derek, livin' life with Derek." Dang! I still don't see my name in there. A/N: I'm glad you all like the story so far. Reviews make me happy. It's amazing what an awesome music playlist and a pile of Oreos with milk does for my writing… and I even remembered that LWD has more characters than just Derek and Casey. *sighs* Now I'm done. Enjoy the chapter. And the interlude towards the end… well, I had fun with that. There is no murder in this story, lol.

Chapter 6 Flashback:

"You're going to pay for that", was all she said before she trotted up the stairs and they heard her door slam shut.

"Uh, Dude", Sam said, "Should you go talk to her?"

Derek smirked, "Probably. Be right back, Sammy. Set up the game." And he followed her up the stairs.

--

Derek's POV:

Derek made his way up the stairs, trying to keep the grins off his face while Sam was playing with the Game Cube's tangled controller cords.

He made his way to his step-sister's closed door, giving it one conciliatory knock before barging in as usual. He found her sitting on her bed, leaning against the headboard, her face in a pillow that was resting against her drawn up knees.

"What?" he heard her mumble into the pillow.

He pulled her computer chair to the side of her bed sprawling himself out comfortably, saying, "Well, that was different."

Casey lifted her head up. Her face was red with laughter, her eyes sparkled, "I have no idea what you're talking about", she replied innocently.

He rolled his eyes at her good-naturedly. "You know", he said, contemplatively, "I don't think I've ever heard you tell a convincing lie – well, ever."

She raised an eyebrow, "Very articulate", she said dryly. "Just because I don't choose to lie, doesn't mean that I don't know how."

"Awww", he said, leaning over to pat her on the head. "My little protégé."

She batted his hand away, "Der-ek", she whined at him, childishly sticking her tongue out at him.

Both of his eyebrows went up, "Why don't you come over here and do that?"

She took a second to look appalled at him, and then she threw her extra pillow at him. It hit him in the face before he caught it.

He watched as she straightened herself into an upright position, her legs stretched out. He would have been worried for the seriousness on her face, but the glint in her eyes told him otherwise. "You know", she started, clearly mocking him; he reached over to hit her gently in the face with the pillow that she had let him borrow.

She glared at him pointedly, before starting over, "You know, now we really can't have Sam finding out anything."

Derek looked at her curiously, "Not that I disagree, but why not?"

She made a face, "Seriously? After the description from the two of us, if he found out that we were actually talking about us, he'd be scarred for life. Energizer Bunny, Derek?" she continued incredulously. "Really, Derek, God."

He smirked, "That's what they usually call me. And you're starting to wear out my name, Case."

She groaned, "I should have seen that coming from a mile away."

"Yes, you should have. And the whole rabbit thing, sort of a compliment", he stated, apparently quite satisfied with himself.

She smiled wryly, slightly embarrassed, "I'll try not to let it go to my head", she retorted, folding her arms under her chest. She sighed, snapping a finger, "Eyes are up here, Derek".

"I know", he sighed dramatically, ignoring her.

She stood up, but not before she kicked his feet from their perched position on the edge of her bed. "Okay", she said, "Enough bugging Casey. Go entertain Sam before he thinks I killed you and comes to check."

"Fine, fine, nobody loves me", he muttered, getting up and walking to the door. He had the door half-way opened when he turned around to look at her. "Hey", he said quietly.

She looked up from the spot she had been studying on her carpet. "What?" she asked.

He looked at her carefully before saying, in a semi-kidding tone, "I hear I missed a Casey freak-out this morning."

"Huh?" she wondered, her brow furrowed in confusion.

He took a few steps to stand in front of her. "Sam told me you were acting a little – I think he actually used the word squirrelly – which was awkward, by the way, when he had talked to you on the phone earlier."

He surprised both of them by running his thumb over the creases between her eyebrows. Her eyes closed involuntarily, as she let out a contented sigh.

They both took a step back from each other. "So, ummm", Derek started awkwardly, "Thanks for saving our asses down there. Usually I'm the quick thinker."

She blushed, "Yeah, well, I had a few minutes to think while you got the door earlier", she said in a low tone.

Now he was smirking, "Found your stuff then?"

"Yes, you idiot", she would have continued, had he not interrupted her.

"Alright, Case", he started in a soothing tone, "Don't get your panties in a twist, unless you are in fact still not wearing any", he wiggled his eyebrows at her.

Casey flushed scarlet, not exactly wanting to think about what had happened earlier, and threw her pillow in his general direction. He somehow managed to catch it mid-air. "Violence doesn't solve anything, Casey", he stated, mockingly.

"Maybe not, but I feel a hell of a lot better after I throw things at you", she ended her statement in a shrill tone, causing them both to wince. She took a deep breath to calm herself. "Now get out and go play with Sam before I throw something at you that's not nearly as soft as a pillow!" she finished indignantly.

He gave her mock-salute and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

--

Nora's POV:

Nora came out of the kitchen and went to sit beside her husband on the couch. "George, I'm worried."

"Okay, honey, that's fine", he replied, clearly distracted by an article in the newspaper he was reading.

Nora rolled her eyes, curling up beside George and resting her head on his shoulder. "I just got off the phone with Casey and Derek", she tried again.

He looked down at her face, "Huh? What about Casey and Derek?"

Nora gave her husband an exasperated sigh, "I just talked to them on the phone and I'm worried."

George turned serious momentarily, "Did something happen?"

She sat upright on the couch, "No, well, I don't even know. Every time I call, they both say they're fine and getting along. We both know that's not true! So that must mean that they're hiding something, and that's why I'm worried!"

"Nora", George started soothingly, "Maybe they are actually getting along. I mean, we both know that Casey has a good head on her shoulders. And Derek, well, he has been starting to act his age lately, sorta."

Nora couldn't help but snort at her husband's reasoning. "George, I have resigned myself to the fact that the two of them will never get along. The only way I would ever see that happening is if-" Nora cut herself off, her eyes widening comically. "Oh shit", she muttered.

George eyed his wife warily. His wife rarely swore, so when she did, he knew the shit was about to hit the fan. He tried to look inconspicuous as he glanced around the room for an umbrella while he asked the dreaded question no husband ever really wants to hear an answer too, "What's wrong?"

Nora took a deep breath to steady herself. Maybe she was over-reacting. But then again… "George, in high school, did you have that couple that fought constantly. They usually weren't even a couple; they were just always around each other, both trying to drive the other crazy."

George laughed, "Lisa Patterson and Tim Baker, man, they tore the school apart. We were all waiting for them to… Oh, shit." Luckily, George was still seated on the couch when he passed out.

Fifteen minutes, a bottle of water, two aspirin, and three kids in the living room later, George was awake and somewhat calm.

--

Lizzie's POV:

Lizzie, Edwin and Marti had come into the house from the large backyard in time to see Nora pouring what looked to be a small glass of water on George's sleeping face. They stood outside the entrance to the living room looking slightly shocked. This wasn't a normal occurrence, even for the McDonald-Venturi bunch.

"Mom?" Lizzie questioned, in a startled tone, as Nora emptied about half the cup of water over George's face and he began to sputter, "What's wrong with George?"

Nora handed her husband a hand towel she grabbed from the cabinet on her way from the kitchen. She looked at him apologetically, "Sorry, honey", she said, leaning over to press a kiss to his somewhat dry forehead.

Finally turning to the children, she motioned them to come all the way into the room, "Come in and sit down guys. We may have a situation."

Lizzie rolled her eyes discreetly at her mother's dramatics, before glancing at her step-brother and step-sister. She and Edwin shared a look. This was going to be interesting.

--

Derek's POV:

Derek and Sam had been in the living room playing Babe Raider in a semi-silence for most of the afternoon. Derek spent most of this time being very annoyed at the fact that he was losing, badly. To Sam.

Casey is getting to me, he thought to himself, just as his character fell into the lava, for the fourth time. Damn.

"Dude", Sam's voice brought him out of his thoughts. "Are you trying to lose?

"Huh? No, I just, I dunno", he was saved from having to explain himself to Sam as he heard footsteps come down the stairs.

"Hey, guys", she made her way over to them, seeing their game was over. "Who won?" she questioned, perching on the arm of the couch between Derek and Sam.

Derek just shook his head in annoyance.

"I did", Sam stated, calmly. "Four out of six games. There's something wrong with Derek."

Casey leaned over the chair to look at Derek who appeared to be pouting. Derek heard her bite back a giggle and gave her a half-hearted glare.

"Are you sick?" she wondered, jokingly, placing her hand on his forehead.

He batted her hand away, "No."

She had the nerve to smirk at him. Then she turned to Sam, saying, "Don't worry, I'm sure it can be cured by food. You're staying for dinner, right?"

"Sure, that'd be great, Case. My mom was making meatloaf tonight", he shuddered.

Derek and Casey both grimaced. "Okay then. You guys want lasagna or tacos?"

"Tacos!" Derek stated, excitedly.

"Sam, I'd ask your opinion, but then I would fear for my life", she said, shuddering comically as Derek snapped out of his funk to give her a very convincing fake glare.

"I see your point", Sam said, playing along, "Teasing Derek when he's hungry isn't a good idea."

Casey snorted, "Believe me, I know."

Derek stood up and folded his arms over his chest in mock-annoyance, "Guys, I'm right here!"

Casey moved to stand in front of him, "Good", she stated finally, "you can help me make dinner."

He dug his heels into the wooden floor as Casey grabbed him by the arm in a vain attempt to pull him into the kitchen.

After a brief struggle, in which neither of them budged an inch, Casey finally let go and put her hands on her hips, "Fine, you don't have to help", she said innocently, "But I don't know how long it will be before it's all ready to eat. But if you're not hungry yet-" she trailed off when she heard Derek's stomach growl.

She smirked at him knowingly, "So you'll help me, yes?"

Derek glared at her, "That was low."

"Oh, the powers of suggestion", she said, quite proud of herself.

"Fine, let's go, Spacey, I'm hungry", he grabbed her by the arm and started in the general direction of the kitchen before he turned around to see his friend sitting on the couch grinning like an idiot. "Let's go, Sammy. Come help or I eat your tacos."

--

Sam's POV:

I trailed a very happy Casey and my brooding best friend into the kitchen waiting for orders from Casey. Even though I was used to it, I was still surprised when Derek let Casey be in charge. Although, since the only thing Derek really liked to cool was macaroni, I probably shouldn't be surprised.

I watched as Casey grabbed a frying pan, sprayed it with non-stick cooking spray and set it on the stove to heat up, and turned around only to find that Derek had already taken the hamburger meat out of the freezer and he handed it to her.

"Thanks", she mumbled, somewhat surprised, so was I.

I decided to save us from the awkward silence, asking, "What do you want us to do, Case?"

She held up a finger as she unwrapped the meat and dropped it in the pan. Turning around, she began to delegate, "Derek, can you get out the cutting board?" she said, as she grabbed a bowl from the cabinet.

"Yeah, sure", Derek pulled the cutting board off the hook and set it on the island. When he turned around again, he saw Casey jumping lightly, trying to grasp another bowl just out of her reach.

Sam looked between Casey and Derek quickly. Derek stood with his arms folded and an amused look on his face, watching Casey, who was becoming visibly frustrated at the fact that the bowl she wanted just wasn't on a lower shelf.

After a few seconds, Casey was staring resolutely at the bowl, probably willing it to come down, not realizing that she was being stared at by the other two people in the kitchen.

Sam had been about to go help her without her consent, when she had once again reached up for the bowl, but he stopped himself from getting up when he saw Derek silently walk up behind her.

Derek waited until she had landed flat on her feet before putting his left hand on her waist, laughing because he had startled her, he said, "You're not tall enough, Princess." And before she could move out of the way or answer him, he reached over her, brushing his chest across her back, and grabbed the bowl.

Derek set the bowl on the counter, ignoring the look from his very flustered step-sister, and said, "What do you want in the bowls? Let's get on this!"

--

Casey's POV:

Oh, my god, Casey thought, I am so screwed.

Casey had fully intended to ignore the fact that she had slept with her step-brother, writing it off as a hormonal breakdown. But if the events of the past few hours were any indication, things may not be exactly the way she thought.

She took a deep breath, hoping to get rid of the thoughts swirling around her head, and went to stir the meat in the pan, flipping the cooked sections so it wouldn't burn. Finally sure that her face wouldn't betray her emotions, she turned around, "Sam, you can use the cutting board to dice tomatoes, and put them in the small bowl when they're done. Derek, shred the lettuce, would you, and then dump it in the bigger bowl. I'll get out the plates and taco shells while I finish cooking the meat."

She went to the other cupboard and grabbed three dinner plates. As she set them on the counter, she heard Derek ask, "Why?" in a whiny voice.

She sighs in annoyance, "Now what?"

"I wanted to cut the tomatoes", he said obviously.

She gave him an incredulous look. Was he serious? She gave a miniscule shake of the head; she was getting tired of the mind games. But that didn't mean she wasn't still going to play. She took a few steps forward, making sure to leave plenty of space between them. It probably wouldn't be the best idea to jump him like she wanted to, in the kitchen, in front of Sam.

She looked up at him, smiling sweetly, "Derek, we both know how you are with sharp objects, and I don't think Mom and George would be happy to come home and find you missing fingers", his eyes narrowed at her, but she continued, "Not to mention, I don't trust you with a knife in the same room as me. You might go all serial killer on me, or something."

She smirked at him; she knew he hated that. The look he gave her, froze her in place. Oh, shit. He's gonna kill me. Casey watched cautiously as Derek turned to rummage through the silverware drawer for a moment.

He turned around, holding the object behind his back so she couldn't see it. "Run", he said with a raised eyebrow. That was all the warning that he gave before he was heading in her direction. She took off quickly through the open kitchen doors and into the living room.

She was half-way to the stairs when she looked over her shoulder. Then of course, she nearly tripped as Derek caught her around the waist, tackling her and they both went over the back of the couch. "Der-ek!" she yelled in annoyance.

They landed on the couch, barley managing to stay on, considering the momentum that Derek had used to propel them over the couch in the first place. When Casey finally opened her eyes, she found herself on her back with Derek on top of her. Well that explains why I can't breathe. God he's heavy. Is he gonna get off of me soon? Her thoughts were racing so quickly that she couldn't manage to grasp them.

Finally, the thoughts in her head came to an abrupt halt, "Get off of me you fat jerk!"

Derek finally stopped crushing her as he propped himself over her, his hands on each side of her. She glared at him when she saw he was laughing at her. "What do you mean fat jerk? One, this is all muscle, babe. And two, fat jerk?" he asked again. "Really, Case? What kind of an insult was that? Haven't you learned anything from me?" he looked quite offended.

She smacked him in the chest, "Oh, I'm sorry", she said sarcastically, "I couldn't think of a proper insult seeing as you were on top of me and cutting off the oxygen supply to my brain!" She rolled her eyes, "Why the hell are you still on top of me?"

He smirked down at her, "C'mon, Case. Give me a good insult."

She growled at him in annoyance, "Dammit, Derek, just get…." She paused, narrowing her eyes at him, "What the hell were you chasing me with?"

Her expression darkened dangerously as he burst into laughter. He looked down between them, still laughing. She followed his gaze cautiously. She groaned when she saw it, "You have got to be fucking kidding me", she muttered.

He grabbed the object from where it rested on her stomach, "Need a Spork, Case?"

She reached up and covered her face with her hands, and then she promptly pushed him off of her and onto the floor.

She gave him a look of semi-disgust, "Dumbass". She stepped over him and headed back to the kitchen to finish cooking.

Sam turned around from his position at the stove, now turning off the heat, to look at her with a wry smile on his face.

Casey just rolled her eyes, "A little warning would have been nice."

Sam raised his eyebrows, taking in her messy hair, now static-y from the couch cushions, and her red face, and Derek standing closely behind her, smirking, before he simply said, "Maybe, but it wouldn't have been nearly as fun to watch."

"You've been friends with Derek too long", she mutters, moving towards the rest of the unattended food.

--

Sam had gone home a few hours ago, somewhat warily, probably wondering if it was a good idea for Casey and Derek to be left unsupervised.

Casey shook her head lightly, trying to clear her thoughts. She was still embarrassed that she had run away from Derek chasing her with a freaking Spork! Granted, she didn't know it at the time, but still. Now she was up in her room listening to a mix cd she had borrowed from Emily.

She had changed into a pair of black pajama pants covered in purple hearts and a matching purple tank top. She heard a knock on her door and went to open it. "What, Derek?" Casey asked. She was tired; this had been a weird day. And she had to be at the dance studio at eleven-thirty tomorrow morning, and for the rest of the week to prepare for her recital on Saturday. She needed all the rest she could get.

He paused just inside her doorway. He opened his mouth to say something, but turned abruptly to glare pointedly at her radio. He grimaced, hearing the song "Beep" by the Pussycat Dolls blasting through her speakers. He snatched up her remote and hit the stop button. "Just when I thought your taste in music couldn't get any worse, Spacey", he said patronizingly.

He narrowed his eyes as he stared at her with her hands on her hips, waiting for him to do something. "What the hell?" he muttered, before closing the space between them.

"What?" she asked, slightly confused about what he was looking at her like that for.

"Did I do that?" he asked her as he lifted his hand to trace her collarbone with his thumb.

Oh, she thought, the hickey. She rolled her eyes, "Well, I sure couldn't have done that to myself", she said sarcastically.

He smirked at her, "Damn straight."

She made a disgusted face, "Did you want something? I need to go to bed."

Derek sighed, "Case-" he started.

"No", she said, "Please. We'll talk tomorrow. We have time. I need to sleep; I have class in the morning."

He gave her a look of pure frustration, and she could feel her resolve fading, "Please, Derek. Not tonight."

"Fine", he said quietly, "But we are going to talk about this tomorrow, Princess."

"Thank you", she whispered.

He gave her a kiss on the forehead, "Night Case".

"Night Derek", Casey replied as he headed to the door.

She had just turned the light off and shut her door half-way, and was sliding under her covers when she heard Derek's voice coming from his own room, "Hey, Case, nice hickey!"

She groaned and buried her head under the covers, thankful her couldn't see her.

--

15 minutes later:

"What the hell?!" Casey heard Derek's voice again before his footsteps found their way to her doorway. Her door swung opened abruptly.

She saw Derek standing in her doorway in flannel pajama pants and a red t-shirt. "Derek, would you shut up! I'm trying to sleep", Casey winced as she glanced towards him, the hallway light hitting her eyes.

The light snapped off and Derek made his way into her room. "You are sharing your bed tonight, Casey."

"Why?" she asked dryly.

"Because", Derek said, coming to stand right next to the side of her bed, "You short-sheeted my bed, missy", he leaned over and flicked her in the nose. "And there's no way I'm fixing it tonight. So scoot over; you're hogging the bed."

She grinned. She had forgotten about that. "Derek, I can't hog my own bed", she stated stubbornly.

"Didn't Nora teach you to share?" he asked her amusedly.

"No", she said childishly, with a pout on her face.

"Sure she didn't. Move over", he said with finality as he moved the covers aside.

She huffed at him before bouncing to the opposite side of the bed. "Don't snore or I'll smother you with a pillow", she said severely. Well as severely as she could with her face buried in her pillow.

"Oh, you mean the one you're currently drooling on?" he asked laughingly.

"Go to hell, Derek", she said good-naturedly.

She felt the dip in the bed as he lay down next to her. Don't panic, she thought, we're just going to sleep.

Casey turned to lie on her side, facing away from Derek and was just about to fall asleep when she felt his arm go around her waist. She turned her head in protest when he mumbled, "Go to sleep, Spacey".

She relaxed her body reluctantly only to be pulled to him, her back against his chest. She sighed quietly before drifting into a contented sleep.