This has sort of been languishing for a while in my folder half-written. However today I just saw Supernatural and got down to finishing this. Apparently, I will write like the blazes when I'm scared shitless. It's a multichapter fic based on one word prompts. I think I'm veering into angst territory here even though I meant it to be humor, no clue how that happened. Anyhow I hope it's decent. :)

Disclaimer - I do not own LwD.

in⋅tru⋅sion - [in-troo-zhuhn] ; noun - an act or instance of intruding.

-

--in which there is an intrusion of privacy--

-

She's doing the lather rinse routine for that perfect head of hair; all the better to snare boys with ( she hopes it will) when she suddenly lets out a piercing scream. Because through the semi-transparent shower curtains, she can vaguely make out a moving figure and it looks very much like Derek. The scream doesn't faze him and he continues brushing his teeth as if there were naked step-sister showering behind a curtain, so close to him.

She whips the curtain back a bit, enough to show her head but not enough to show her naked self and takes a deep composing breath before letting it all out.

"Der-ek! You pervert, I'm here having a shower!" That should do she thinks, the pitch is right and the decibel is high. And exactly as she imagines, Derek is startled and swears some words that shouldn't be heard by her delicate and pristine ears. But he recovers much too soon for her comfort.

"So?" he lazily asks and she must admit she's stumped. But then again she shouldn't be surprised because when did Derek ever know the meaning of bathroom propriety. Not before and certainly not now.

"So? Derek, I happen to be naked therefore I would like you to respect my privacy and leave," she says hopefully, appealing to his non-existent (in the case of everyone but Marti) compassionate side.

He laughs and she sighs. Well she at least tried. Now she'll try another tack.

"Derek, get out!!!" When in doubt, always scream. Because the shrill volume of the voice will drive away any right-thinking person even if they desperately want to stay. It's sort of like whining, you annoy the person enough even for them to want to go away. But she should have known it would not work because now he's calmly rinsing his mouth. He gargles and then straightens up.

"Casey, you are a sensible person. And if I did have any nefarious designs on your virtue, believe me; I wouldn't be standing in front of the mirror here. I would be in there with you. But since I don't roll the step-sister or the Klutzilla way, you have nothing to worry abut. I mean; you are as attractive as Max to me. So stop flapping around and finish your shower. I don't have all day and this hair doesn't look causally ruffled all by it self." And with that he begins shaving.

Casey gasps and then concedes defeat. She continues her shower, scrubbing a little harder than usual. So rude of Derek to insinuate that she is unattractive and a Klutzilla. She'll have you know she's very graceful, except that sometimes, she's a little unlucky and stumbles. And she knows she's a decent looking person. It's not like she's that hideous looking. And Max is pretty good looking once you get past his suspiciously orange skin. She consoles herself by telling herself that Derek has no appreciation for looks. He's just a blind teenage boy whose ideas of good looks are influenced by porn stars.

It worries her a bit that she takes his words so much to heart. Because it's Derek, every second sentence out of his mouth is a thinly veiled barb directed at her. She should be used to it by now.

So why should this one affect her so?

She turns off the shower and wraps herself in a big fluffy towel (securely) and steps out. He's sitting on the toilet seat, half-naked and looking much too self-assured for a person still half-asleep. She looks at him with what she hopes is a superior look because she is totally down with sharing a bathroom with him. Do you hear that, she's like totally down.

And there's no way his smooth chest is affecting her ability to think.

Pfft.

She has like no attraction to him whatsoever and he clearly thinks she is as attractive as a lump of coal. So it's all even.

And the blush blooming on her cheeks, it because of the hot water, not because of the way he's looking at her, neutral and observant. She intensifies the superior gaze and adds a pinch of condescending to it. Derek rolls his eyes at her and she resists the urge to kick his shin. Instead she just walks away, taking the high road.

Really, she's not a hideous person.

She isn't, is she?

-

Barring the morning's incident she doesn't meet Derek. However the first thing she asks Emily at school is if she's hideous monster to look at. Emily sighs and reassures her that she is not. She's had plenty of practice with it, Emily that is. And at moment, a very cute guy walks by and gives her an appraising glance which ends with a smile. She smiles back at him and sighs happily after he passes by.

She's definitely an okay looking girl. Derek's skewered opinion can go hang it's self.

She begins walking and is tripped up an errant foot, which she is pretty sure belongs to Derek and is preparing a scathing speech after the customary face-plant when the cute guy plays the knight in shining armor to her damsel in distress and rescues her from doing aforementioned face-plant. She's filled with fluttery feelings at his chivalry, so unlike some others she knows and she fails to notice Derek's twisted grimace in her direction.

Emily however notices and smiles.

-

She wants to finish this day on a high, which means she wants to avoid Derek and just squeal in the privacy of her room about Mark and his dark brown eyes and dark brown hair which just begs to be run through by willing fingers…so like Derek's she realizes with horror. The guy may not be a replica of Derek but he has the same colored eyes as Derek and the same hairstyle and hair color as Derek's. It pisses her off because really, this is just what she needs, a potential boyfriend whose looks remind her of her loathed step-brother.

This is not good. She needs to go to the room and vent.

She walks to her room feeling mighty pissed because somehow or the other, Derek is always at the root of her troubles. He's either the cause or the cause by effect. She throws open her door to find Derek sprawled out on her bed, with his dirty shoes on her pretty daisy and violet bed-covers. This is really too much. He first harasses her in the bathroom by just deciding to be there and calling her unattractive and now he's polluting her sanctuary and wait… is he reading her poetry book? She looks down at her clenched fists and examines her short polished nails. No more Miss. Nice Girl, the metaphorical claws are coming out.

"Spacey, you really should tone down on the angry feminist poetry. Makes you look like you need to get some. Wait, that is the truth, you do need to get some." He laughs and then sits up and tosses the book aside. That makes her fingers clench harder, digging into the soft skin on her palms.

"Anyhow I came to ask, who the heck was the idiot you were making doe eyes at?" She's astonished that he actually has the gall to continue his little rant.

"I shouldn't really be surprised at this. I mean its okay for you to harass me in the bathroom, trip me in school, treat my work like shit and then expect me to answer like nothing ever happened?"

He actually shrugs and then nods, and that makes her even angrier.

"And not only that. You shoot down my self-esteem which you know is not very strong to begin with and then come to my room, sit on my bed and ask who I'm making doe eyes at."

"Now that we've established all my crimes against you, will you finally tell me?" he asks wearily as if he's doing this for her sake and not his. His callousness tears through her like a knife. Doesn't he even understand where she's coming from and that he's hurt her?

Apparently not because he's still sitting on her bed waiting for her to answer, with a smug smirk on his face. And that breaks her like the final straw on the camel's back does.

"Get the hell out of here Derek. I don't have to answer to you at all." And with that she takes him by the hand and roughly pushes him out and slams the door on him. She catches the look of surprise tinted with anger and hurt on his face, just before she shuts the door but she doesn't really care. It's an eye for an eye. She picks up her poetry book from the floor and sits down on the bed. It only takes a moment or two for her to break down.

Why? Why does he have to be like this?

Do feel free to point out any mistakes that are there.

And review please?