A/N: I got this idea when finishing up my last Dasey fic, "A Not So Very Merry Derekus". (Go read it! It was one of my favourite things to write).

I'm going to leave the status of this story incomplete, because I might add some more one-shots to this, and develop a collection (its the idea. Doesn't necessarily mean I will follow through). With that being said, it might get a different title later on, depending on the tone of the collection.

I've rated this one-shot T, but am unsure if it should be higher... if anyone disagrees with the rating, please let me know so I can make the necessary changes to M. But I'm fairly certain this fic is strictly PG-13, so I think its safe (I hope).

I do not own Life With Derek, nor any of the characters affiliated.


Footsie

Derek didn't think it would escalate into anything. He didn't think it would continue after the first time it happened, and he certainly didn't think it would effect any other aspect of their relationship.

It began when Casey had been especially vulnerable. It was the night after that stupid party in Toronto, and Derek had listened to Casey crying of a broken heart in the next room the entire night. The sound of her sobbing hit Derek straight in the chest, and it hurt every time he breathed. Her wallowing continued into the following day, and at dinner, it just kind of happened. To be honest, Derek barely even knew what was going on until it was already happening, and he didn't want to reject her gesture while she was so depressed.

He doesn't think it was intentional. She looked just as surprised as him when their feet made contact underneath the dinner table, and they made immediate eye contact, which lasted about six seconds before they simultaneously looked down at their plates, ignoring the acknowledgement from both sides. He meant to pull away, but his leg was paralyzed in front of him. For some strange reason, the contact felt needed, and when he replays the moment in his head, he can't tell if it was him who needed it, or her. That first time, their legs had remained stationary: touching, but not moving.

The next night, Derek hadn't expected Casey's leg to be extended as far as it was when he sat down to dinner. It shocked him a bit when he slid into his chair, and her ankle hit his, beneath the centre of the table. He made no acknowledgement of it, and proceeded with dinner normally, until Casey's foot moved.

It didn't move away from him. It moved up. Up past his ankle and brushed the hem of his pant leg. That's when he finally looked at Casey, and found that she had been looking at him, too. When their eyes met, hers darted away quickly over to Edwin to ask him something about some school project, all the while, her foot roamed restlessly against Derek's leg.

He doesn't know why he reciprocated. It was like he had no control over his own foot as he tapped her leg gently with his, and her foot responded, shifting back and forth against his ankle.

He also doesn't think anyone else knew what was going on, because its been going on for weeks now, and no one has said a single thing or looked at them in any suspicious manner.

For some reason, it's actually become something that he looks forward to everyday. It was just something small - a bit of comfort when Casey was feeling down, turned into a bit of fun.

In all his wildest dreams, Derek had never thought he would be playing footsie with Casey everyday, voluntarily. She drove him crazy. She was controlling and temperamental, and so was her foot.

Some nights, their interaction was playful. They would let their feet move freely between them.

Other nights, it was more demanding. Derek was guilty of riding up her pant leg, and she was guilty of the same. Sometimes they would take each others socks off, and Derek always noticed Casey's smooth leg. Did she shave daily because of their little game? Or was it just a habit of hers?

There was one dinner where Derek thought they had been much too obvious, fighting for dominance under the table, and Derek had nearly fallen out of his seat for a moment, when Casey locked her ankles around his and pulled him closer. He made a lousy excuse that his chair was slippery, and when everyone looked away from him to Marti, he gave Casey a bit of a warning glance to tone it down a bit.

Their game was exhilarating, like a little shot of adrenaline. Maybe it was because neither of them ever spoke about it or mentioned it. Maybe it was because he knew their actions were a little bit heated for normal "sibling" interaction, and they'd totally be ruined if any of the family members found out what went on underneath the mahogany shelter. But he and Casey were far from "siblings". They were enemies living under the same roof who had learned to coexist. Their daily life was one big game of survivor, and during meals, they merely teamed up. When the meal would finish, they went back to being rivals.

Their dinner alliance would never extend into their relationship.

At least, that's what Derek was trying to convince himself of.


"Would you stop it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes you do. Leave me alone."

It wasn't like Derek had gone out of his way to annoy Casey. Opportunities just seemed to present themselves, and - naturally - he accepted all the ammunition the universe provided him with.

This time, the universe had set him up perfectly for an afternoon of entertainment. Casey was busy in the kitchen, making up some sort of food for dinner (which he was planning on taking a single bite of at suppertime and gagging on it, even though it did smell quite delicious). He didn't know she was using up every available counter space, and he made the excuse that he was putting together a snack for himself. Every time she turned her back, he would move some of her stuff just enough to confuse her and get her really irritated. It was a blast.

"Alright, where did you put the olive oil?" Her hands were over her hips, and Derek recognized that body language as anger. Man, could he work fast.

"Olive what?" He feigned dumb, and broke open a bag of chips, dumping them into a plastic bowl that he stole from her mise en place (which apparently meant "don't touch that, Derek. I need it for this recipe").

"The olive oil." She glared at him, and spun around until she spotted it in the fruit bowl. "Do you have to be such a nuisance?"

He smirked. "No, but I have a knack for it, so I might as well do what I'm good at." He leaned back against the counter and watched her, holding a handful of chips in his hand and munched on them contentedly. "What are you even making, anyway?"

"Coq au vin."

He nearly choked. "Cock of what? You're cooking a dick?"

She scowled. "Not cock, Derek." She looked mildly disgusted. "Coq. As in C-O-Q. It means rooster in french."

He breathed. "I'm not sure if I'm relieved, or disappointed."

"You're so immature." She turned back to her frying pan and poured in some of the oil.

Derek didn't intend to do it, but he finished off his handful of chips, and joined Casey at the stove. Before he even realized what he was doing, his toes touched hers, and he saw her entire body straighten.

It wasn't like they had talked about it, but it had kind of been an unwritten rule that the lower half of their bodies were never to touch outside of the sanctuary of the dinner table. He has no clue why he broke that rule, but here he was, standing so close to Casey with his foot against hers.

Casey walked away from the stove and quickly busied herself with a deboned chicken. Derek watched her as she kept her attention fixed intently on the piece of meat in front of her on the counter. Her movements were stiff until she picked up the cutting board with the chicken and brought it over to the stove. At first, she stood motionless at the stove, and then - to Derek's surprise, she slid her right foot along the hardwood until it stopped at Derek's, making contact again.

The gesture made his heart beat faster. What were they doing? If this started - footsie in the kitchen - then it could spread anywhere, and anyone could catch them. This wasn't discreet. This, suddenly, wasn't secret.

For a moment, Casey did absolutely nothing, and Derek watched her closely, hoping to find some sort of answer in her expression, but she didn't give anything away. Instead, she picked up a pair of tongs and started lowering the chicken into the hot pan, and the instant sizzle made the hair on Derek's neck stand up. The heat he was feeling was from more than just the stove top.

"W-would you pass me the pepper grinder?" Casey asked, and Derek swallowed down a lump in his throat at that request.

He passed her the kitchen implement, but it reminded him of a different type of grinding altogether, and he was finding that he wouldn't be at all opposed to doing that with her.

He stayed there, close to her, as she continued to make dinner. Why wasn't he leaving? He had no reason to be there. How had his intentions to annoy her instantly turn into something so flirtatious? It bothered him that this was happening. For the past three-and-a-half years, he hadn't allowed himself to do anything like this with Casey, but that all seemed to be thrown right out the window.

It wasn't like he was even remotely interested in the cooking process of her strange chicken dish. He didn't leave - or want to leave - because it felt good when they touched, and they weren't allowed to do it often without cause.

"What's that?" Derek asked, his voice hoarse because his throat was so dry.

Casey grabbed a bottle and popped the cork off. "Burgundy." She poured quite a bit into the pan of chicken, and then placed it on the counter between them.

It was no longer just a game of footsie, because when she put the bottle down, Derek reached out for it, and their hands touched, both gripping the bottle. He noticed Casey's white knuckles... was she uncomfortable? They were standing so close that Derek could almost feel her breath catch as his fingers slid over hers.

Taking the bottle from her hand, their eyes met briefly, and he saw the guarded caution in her expression. He lifted the bottle to his nose.

"What are you doing?" Casey asked when Derek brought it up to his lips.

He took a sip, but it didn't help with his dry throat. "Trying it."

She looked concerned. "But its wine."

"And I'm eighteen," he reminded. "Want some?"

She looked between Derek and the bottle, and he couldn't help but notice her eyes paused briefly at his lips when she gazed back down at the bottle. "But I'm not eighteen."

"So? No one will know. And you have adult supervision," he joked, putting his free hand on his chest. "You can't get drunk on one sip. They do it in churches all the time." As he spoke, his foot moved along the side of Casey's, and she tapped her foot in response. He leaned back against the counter, bending his knee, meeting Casey's.

Yeah, physical contact felt good.

She bit her lip and took the bottle tentatively from his hand. "Is it good?"

He shrugged. "I'm not a wine guy, but its not exactly bad."

That seemed to convince her, because she brought the bottle up and sniffed it, her fingers intentionally brushing over Derek's. She tipped it back, and Derek smiled at her reaction to the alcohol hitting her tongue.

"That's not bad?" she asked, stunned, and wheezing.

She sure was cute. "Come on, Case. Have you never had wine before?"

Her head shook vigorously. "I almost did at Emily's house last year, but the smell of it made me sick."

Okay, she was really cute. "Well, I know who will never be the life of the party," he teased, and took the bottle back, an excuse to touch her again. He bumped her elbow as he put it back on the counter and replaced the cork.

"I am very good at parties," she argued, stirring her chicken.

He scoffed. "Ri-ight. That's why you're the biggest wallflower, and you got cheated on by your ass of a boyfriend at a party."

She repealed her foot from his. Her silence was what made Derek feel bad. There was no hitting or yelling... he had hurt her feelings.

He ran his hand through his hair. "Sorry."

She ignored him and continued preparing dinner. "I told you to leave me alone, Derek." Her voice was eerily calm.

His heart dropped, and he let out an apologetic sigh. "I said I was sorry."

"Please just go."

"...Whatever you want." He pushed past her, roughly shoving her shoulder as he went by, and grabbed his bowl of chips.

If they weren't going to touch affectionately, then he might as well release his pent up needs by bumping into her.


Much to Derek's surprise, when he sat down to dinner that night, he found Casey's foot waiting for him, even though she was angry.

His plan to spit out her food went right out the window when he made eye contact with her, and she actually smirked at him. He was glad he ditched it, because her food was actually good. Really good.

"Hey. Who knew that 'Lame-y McReads-A-Lot' could actually cook something that tastes good," Derek announced, taking another big bite of chicken.

She glared at the nickname he had chosen.

"And the other men at the table will be glad to hear that - contrary to the name of this dish - no dicks were hurt in the process of making it. Our equipment is safe."

"Derek!" Casey scolded, at the same time as George.

"What?!" Lizzie asked, frightened as she examined her plate more closely.

Casey sighed, and sat up straight in her chair, haughtily. "The lowlife across from me was making a crude joke about the name of it. It's called Coq au vin. Which means 'rooster in wine'."

Even though she appeared to be irritated by him, Derek was suspecting differently from the way her toes were curling down his sock, and her other foot was cradling his in her ankle.

"And besides, it was a terrible joke, because I don't see any men at this table," she tacked on.

"Hey!" George defended, and Casey broke her eye contact from Derek to glance apologetically at her step father.

"No offence, George."

"Offence taken," he rebutted, but Nora cocked her head at him.

"Georgie," she said sweetly, trying to repair the jab made by Casey. Her look was cautionary.

Defeated, he went back to his task at hand and put another forkful into his mouth.

"Well, I think it's yummy!" Marti chimed in, slurping up a spoonful of the sauce.

Casey smiled at her. "At least somebody appreciates all the hard work I put into this."

Derek rubbed his leg against hers, and he hoped she felt the same sensations as him. "Hey, did I not just compliment this food, or do you need a hearing aid, Sue Thomas?"

The implication seemed to irritate Casey, and she kicked him in the shin, forcefully, but not enough to hurt. "I'm not deaf, Derek. But I didn't hear any compliment."

Derek looked around the table. "Would someone remind Casey of what a compliment is? Because I think she might have missed a lesson in Manners 101."

Casey squinted at him. "I might have missed one lesson, Derek, but you skipped all of them. You have the manners of a weasel."

He leaned back in his chair, and burped. "I take that as a compliment." He locked eyes with her in a challenge.

Instantly, Casey's leg pulled back from him, and he tried to maintain his composure, but he felt his eyes narrow a little bit at the action. She did know how to get under his skin.

"You would take it as a compliment, since you are a wild animal, anyway." He watched as she smirked at him, like she had just won the argument, but it was far from over... it would just continue later on. "You probably have rabies," she added.

Eyebrows dancing, he voiced, "wanna find out?"

He didn't know why he said it. His lips just started moving before he could even think where he was, and he immediately wished he had held his tongue. This was Casey he was talking to. Casey at the dinner table with their family. He knew it was a provocative statement, and he saw the exhortation to stop in Casey's eyes as she held her mouth open, a little speechless. His eyes were so paralyzed over her figure in front of him, that he hadn't yet surveyed the table for other reactions to his... un-brotherly outburst. All he knew was that the dinner was all of a sudden silent. He couldn't even hear a fork scraping against a plate.

He swallowed his shrivelling pride and hunched over in his chair, trying to hide his growing concern behind his bangs. It's not like he hadn't said some racy things in front of all of them before. But he could admit that his suggestion was rather indecent at the dinner table. Especially about a family member.

Correction: step family member.

Thankfully, Nora cleared her throat and changed the subject, and they all seemed to move on, but it didn't leave Derek feeling any less uneasy. Would any of them address the situation later? He prayed to God they wouldn't.

He finished the meal in silence, and then excused himself to his room the very moment his plate was empty, darting up the stairs and hoping they had all forgotten about what he said. The last thing he needed was for everyone to think he had the hots for his step-sister, even if he did. Fortunately, no one followed him up, and he was able to get a few hours of peace in the solace of his bedroom, where he could think and say whatever he wanted without anyone questioning him.

He hadn't planned on letting his feelings get this far, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get her off his mind. And the longer they played their little game at meals and in the kitchen, the less it was cutting it. There was a lot of tension building up inside, and if he didn't get some sort of release soon, he was going to snap. Probably snap in the middle of dinner, and give his family something to really be concerned about.

What he needed was a cold shower, and that's what he did. He made his way to the bathroom when no one was around to notice, so they wouldn't get suspicious.

It was just what he needed... at least, it was what he could get.


"What are you doing?" Casey looked up from her lunch table when Derek slid into the seat across from her, plopping down his tray and munching on the... mystery meal.

"I'm eating. What does it look like?"

She leaned across the table, the ends of her hair sweeping across the surface. "Why here? You never eat with me."

Her question got answered when he leaned back in his chair and their legs made contact. He watched as her voice seemed to catch in her throat and she looked down at her half-eaten lunch, deciding on how to react.

"Here?" she stammered, lowering her voice. "At school?"

Between bites, he said, "don't make a big deal out of it, Casey."

She began to open her mouth to respond, but was cut off when Emily walked up to the table, staring at them awkwardly. "Make a big deal about what?" she questioned, looking back and forth between the two of them, holding out her lunch tray.

Derek didn't look up at her. "Nothing." Casey didn't seem too eager to answer, either.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" Emily asked, gesturing to the spot beside Derek, and he inhaled sharply.

He did mind. Very much so. But as he began to tell Emily to mind her own business, Casey nudged him, and shot him a dirty look.

"Of course, Em," Casey said, and made Derek push his tray over to make room for her friend. "Derek was just leaving," Casey lied, and widened her eyes at him.

"Actually, I just sat down, and I want to finish my lunch. Right here." There was no way he was unwrapping his ankle from around hers until the warning bell rang. He still had a good twenty minutes.

Casey glared at him. "Fine. Then we'll leave," Casey fought back, but Emily protested.

"That's okay, Casey. I don't mind sitting with Derek."

Derek groaned quietly. Of course she wouldn't. That girl was obsessed with him, in an unhealthy way, too. He knew about her gossip binder, and was privy to the folder completely devoted to him. The girl was messed.

Having Casey absently responding to his touch beneath the table mostly made up for the awkwardness, and he tried to tune their conversation out, since he wasn't all that interested in Emily's new curling iron, or Casey's new body lotion.

Okay, he was interested in Casey's body lotion, but he wasn't about to admit that. He had even put it to use, but that was a secret he would take to the grave.

It was some time after Derek finished his food when Casey pulled her chair in closer to the table, and her knee hit his. The table was so wide at home that doing that was nearly impossible, and Derek's heart began racing once he realized what they had been missing.

It was just a knee. Why did it have this effect on him? Why was it sending bursts of electricity up his leg and to a certain point on his person that didn't need to be excited, especially when there were no cold showers to jump into.

But it also felt good, and he extended his leg to invite the contact.

Her eyes briefly met his, but her attention was still on her conversation with Emily. God, she was hot. He pushed his tongue into his cheek when Casey did something unexpected - so unexpected that after the first few seconds of it happening, Derek had to push himself away from the table and stand up, quickly thinking about his Aunt Madge, naked and dancing the hula. Anything to get his mind off the fact that Casey had just gripped his knee between her thighs.

"Derek, is something wrong?" Emily asked, looking up at him as his chair scooted back loudly against the tile flooring.

Great. Now the entire lunch room was looking at him as he was trying his best to cool down. Maybe eating with Casey had been a bad idea.

He grabbed his tray, glaring at Casey for doing this to him, and she was smirking because she knew. She knew that he was having these feelings about her, and she was mocking him. "No. Nothing is wrong," Derek answered. "I'm going," he announced, and turned away from the table.

A few minutes later, he was leaning into his open locker, trying to forget about everything and focus on school.

Wow. Casey could really do things to him. Since when was he trying to get his mind off of a girl and think about school? It didn't work, because about a minute later, he felt a tap on his shoulder, and when he turned around, Casey was standing beside him, her arms linked across her chest.

He glowered at her. "What are ya doing?" he spat, crossing his arms in a mirror of her.

She squinted. "I can ask the same thing. What was going on last night at dinner? Why did you say-"

He cut her off, feeling a little incredulous. "Why were you... What was that in the cafeteria?" he shot back, and closed his locker, dragging her to a secluded spot in the hallway. "Were you trying to make a scene?"

She scoffed. "You're the one who came to my table and started it."

She was daft, wasn't she? "I wasn't the one getting all 'touchy-feely' under the table."

"You didn't reject it, either."

Derek swallowed, realizing that she was catching on. He breathed deeply, and then lowered his head, keeping his eyes on hers. "Look, I don't think this is the greatest spot to be discussing this," he told her, and glanced around the hall, even though he didn't think anyone was paying attention.

She agreed.

"Just... don't do that again," he warned.

She glared at him. "If you don't make such provocative comments in front of the family," she bartered.

He narrowed his eyes. "Just in front of the fam, huh?" He didn't let such a subtlety slide by without acknowledging it.

She rolled her eyes, but Derek could tell she was a little nervous as she said, "not just then."

Tongue in cheek, he lifted an eyebrow at her. "Because I was going to say: the offer still stands."

She looked confused. "What offer?"

He smirked. "You'll figure it out." Without waiting for Casey to clue in, he pushed past her, brushing shoulders as he walked away, and turned the corner. He left quickly more for his sake than hers, because the longer he was in her presence, the faster he was slipping.

Slipping right out of reality and straight into his fantasies.


"Good, Derek, you're home." Nora waved him over as he entered the back door, and he reluctantly joined his stepmother in the kitchen, wary.

He eyed her, and she smiled widely as she pulled out one of the stools pushed up against the kitchen island and tapped on it, welcoming him to sit, but he didn't think he had much of a choice. Derek knew that face. It was the face of a lecture.

"Actually, Nora, I've got some homework to do, so I think I'm just going to go up to my room..." He tried to sneak past her, but she stood in front of him and crossed her arms.

"We both know you don't do your homework, so cut the crap," she demanded, and put her hand on his shoulder, forcing him to sit.

He knew what she was getting on about, and he considered grabbing one of the kitchen knives and plunging it into his ear drums before the conversation could start. He sighed, knowing there was no way out.

She smiled fakely. "Derek, you're a teenage boy."

"You don't say?" Sarcasm dominated his interjection.

Nora ignored it. "And... as a boy, I realize you have... ideas. Especially at a time so confusing as crossing over into manhood."

God, could this be more awkward? Standing up, Derek shrugged her hand off his shoulder and widened his eyes. "Please don't continue," he pleaded, and crossed his arms. "Look, I know what this is about, and I assure you: I know what happened last night was inappropriate, and it won't happen again."

Nora's eyes reduced to slits. "I just don't think the younger children need to be exposed to that kind of... interaction between you and Casey."

He nearly choked. "Excuse me?"

She nodded, and Derek slowly lowered himself back onto the stool. "Derek. You're a very attractive young man, and Casey is a very pretty young woman, and I'd be stupid if I didn't think something would go on between you. I just don't want it happening in front of your siblings."

Was he hearing her correctly? "Excuse me?" he repeated, clearing his throat.

"Don't let it happen. Ever again." She stepped away, as if giving him permission to end the conversation.

Did she honestly just... accept what was going on - what might be going on - between him and Casey? There was no way she would be okay with that. Not after the suggestion he had made the day before.

"You know," Derek said, lifting his shoulders. "When I said the whole rabies thing, I meant we could go to the doctors or something and get me checked out."

Nora rose an eyebrow. "I already told you to cut the crap," she scolded, and shooed him out of the kitchen, and he high-tailed it out of there.

This whole thing just got a whole lot more interesting.


Derek nearly jumped off his bed when his bedroom door opened suddenly - without warning - and Casey came barging in, shutting and locking it behind her.

Immediately, Derek's stomach began flopping around inside of him, and he pulled off his headphones. "What are you doing?" he said, his voice raising, and his arms crossing, setting aside the magazine he was reading.

Casey glared at him. "Okay."

He raised one eyebrow. "Okay... what?"

She inhaled. "I'm taking you up on your offer."

His ears were throbbing. "What?" He remained motionless, still completely lounging backward on his mattress.

Lifting her hand, Casey added, "I wanna find out."

Had everyone completely lost their marbles? Surely, a weird version of 'Invasion of the Body Snatchers' was happening in the MacDonald-Venturi household. Was this some sort of cruel trick?

"Did you hear what Nora said...?"

Her eyebrows scrunched together. "What? No, I just... I just thought that you said..."

Lethargically, trying not to look as panicked as he felt, Derek pushed himself into a sitting position, putting his feet on the floor. "I know what I said. Did you actually understand what I meant?"

She looked more confused than before. "Yeah."

"Are you sure?"

Taking a step further into his room and closer to him, Casey nodded. "I'd like to... you know."

Okay, it was definitely 'Invasion of the Body Snatchers'. This was pod-Casey. That, or he was dreaming. But he hadn't even closed his eyes since he got home from school, so that theory was out of the question. He was having a difficult time responding, because if he was understanding her correctly, she just agreed to...

"Can we clarify what it is you want to do?" he questioned, narrowing his eyes at her, and he watched her chest expand as she inhaled briefly.

Her fingers twitched, and her legs were restless, which was uncharacteristic of her. "You're making this difficult, Derek," she complained, and she inched toward the bed, and stopped shy of toe-touching.

That made him smirk. That was his job, after all. "There's one thing you have to know," he replied. "I will always make things difficult for you," he breathed, and shifted his foot, barely brushing against hers.

For a minute, he thought they had reached some sort of stalemate, until Casey moved from her trance and lowered herself until she was sitting beside him on his bed, her knee leaving no space between them. Derek looked down at it, and then back to her eyes. (Yeah, he had understood her.)

She moved her ankle, interlocking with his. "So, do you have rabies, or what?" she said awkwardly, swallowing.

He leaned a little closer to her, and breathed into her ear. "You're the aspiring doctor. You tell me," he decided, stopping short of brushing his lips against her skin.

Inviting, Casey closed the space between their bodies, and stared into his eyes. She looked a little frightened, but it was mingled with excitement. "I guess you'll need a checkup then...?" She sounded very unsure of herself, and it made Derek laugh, also kind of uncomfortable. Her tone of voice was the furthest thing from being seductive, but it was so quintessentially Casey, that it made him want her even more.

He nodded, and then lifted his body off the bed, hovering over her. Casey's leg lifted, wrapping around his torso as he leaned forward, pressing his body against hers until she was pinned against the bed. He smirked, fully expecting a whack across the head as he responded to her banter, saying, "I'd like a full physical."

But she only rolled her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "Bite me," she spat angrily, her feet rubbing against the back of his legs.

And he obeyed.


So... racier than what I normally write, but... fun, nonetheless? I wanna scream.

Review ;)