Because Derek is just too sexy for his own good. And I need me some lovin. So I'm going through favorite parts in The Reckoning, and re-working them to suit my lusty mind. Most are smutty, some are not. Like this one. It just needed a little more… together. It will be a pleasant combination of original text and my little adaptations. They will probably be a bit out of character, but I will try to stay true.

Disclaimer: I usually loathe these things, but kinda necessary on this one. Kelley Armstrong is amazing and owns, along with the publishers, the wonderful Darkest Powers trilogy. Which sadly includes the characters… hmm… I should think about buying one or two of those… hmm…

"Chloe!"

My knees shook at the shout. Footsteps thudded across the roof. Ghosts don't make footsteps.

"Don't move."

I looked over my shoulder to see Derek.

-Chapter 3-

Derek made his way across the flat section of the roof. He was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, but his feet were bare.

"Watch out," I called. "There's broken glass."

"I see it. Stay where you are."

"It's okay. I'll just back up and—" The wood creaked under me. "Or maybe not."

"Just stay there. The wood's rotting. It's holding your weight as long as you stand still."

"But I walked out here, so it must be—"

"We're not testing that theory, okay?"

There was none of the usual impatient snap in his voice, meaning he was really worried. And if Derek was worried, I'd better stay right where I was. I gripped the railing.

"No!" he said. "I mean, yes, hold on, but don't put any weight on it. It's rotted through at the base."

Great.

Derek looked around, like he was searching for something to use. Then he stripped off his shirt. I tried not to look away. Not that he looked bad without his shirt. The opposite, actually, which is why… Let's just say friends are really better when they're fully dressed.

Derek got as close as he dared, then knotted a corner of the T-shirt and tossed it to me. I caught it on the second throw.

"I'm not going to pull you in," he warned.

A good thing, because with his werewolf strength, he'd probably wrench it from my hands and I'd tumble off the roof backward.

"Pull yourself along—"

He stopped, seeing I was already doing that. I made it onto the flat part, wobbled a step, then felt my knees start to give way. Derek grabbed my arm—the one without stitches, bandages, and a bullet graze—and pulled me into his chest, gripping me tightly.

"Why don't we sit down for a minute?" he asked, letting go slightly to look me in the eyes. They were pretty intense, almost as if he was afraid for me.

Considering I was still shaking from the incident, he probably was.

We sat down, him pulling me between his legs. He was still shirtless. It was very difficult to ignore, but my close encounter of the ghost kind and his own apparent terror helped. He moved closer and wrapped his arms around me. I guess I was still shivering.

"I—I'll be okay. Just give me a second. It's safe to sit here, right?"

"Yeah, the slope's only about twenty-five degrees, so—" Seeing my expression, he said, "It's safe."

The fog was lifting, and I could see trees stretching into the distance on all sides, a dirt road winding through them to the house.

"There was a ghost," I said finally.

"Yeah, I figured that. In the future, can we avoid your solo ghost adventures?"

"I—I knew I shouldn't follow but—" I paused, not ready for the full explanation, still shaky. "I stopped outside your door, hoping you'd hear me. I guess you did?"

"Kind of. I was dozing. Woke up confused, so it took me a while to get out here. Got a touch of fever."

I saw it now, the glittering eyes and the abnormally hot skin gripping me tight.

"Are you—?" I began.

"I'm not Changing. Not for a while. I know what that feels like now, and I've got a ways to go. Another day, at least. Hopefully longer. I'm not… one-hundred percent around this time, so I'm a little skittish. And not particularly suited for rescue missions." He wasn't even trying to be subtle.

"I'll try to eliminate the ghost encounters for a few days," I sighed. "But no guarantees."

He grunted.

"I bet you'll Change completely this time," I said, trying to change the subject.

"Yeah, maybe." His tone said he doubted it.

He gripped me tighter and rested his head on my shoulder, making his toned body all the more apparent to my softer flesh. At sixteen, Derek was more than a foot taller than me. Solidly built, too, with broad shoulders and muscles he usually kept hidden under baggy clothes, so he wouldn't look intimidating. I bet he'd look amazing in a suit.

Since he'd started Changing, Mother Nature seemed to have cut him some slack. His skin was clearing up. His dark hair didn't look greasy anymore. It still hung in his face—nothing emo, just like he hadn't bothered to get it cut in a while. Lately, that would have been the last thing on his mind. Right next to getting a tailored suit.

Okay. I'm done. Little changes, but they made the moment so much more intimate and delicious, don't you think? Tell me if you liked it and if I should keep going. I probably will anyways, but it's nice to hear that someone appreciates.