Summary: One year ago, Derek moved to Paris after a fight with his dad. But he wasn’t the only one who went.

Disclaimer: Don’t own Life With Derek. ‘Nuff said.

Author’s Note: Gah… horrible summary.

Anyway, this is a companion piece to Lady Eirenna’s “City of Lust”.

X

Ville de L’amour: City of Love
By: Lady Azura

X

When Derek Venturi was twenty-one, he and his dad had a falling out.

Granted, things had never been exactly perfect between them -- especially when it came to Derek’s academic achievements (or lack thereof) -- but tensions reached a staggering high when, during one of his rare visits, Derek decided to announce his plan to drop out of university and move to France with hopes of becoming a professional photographer. He explained how his Photography Professor at Queen’s saw potential in him, and wanted him to come back to Paris with him and be his assistant. Derek had, of course, agreed in a heartbeat.

Needless to say, George Venturi had not been pleased, and a verbal battle was quick to break out -- the gist of it being how, since George was the one paying for Derek’s education, the least the latter could do was graduate first. However, Derek’s defense was that it was a “once in a lifetime opportunity” and that he wasn’t going to give it up. The argument soon escalated to the point where both Venturi men were red in the face, and couldn’t go two words without swearing at the other. Finally, Derek had just thrown his arms up in frustration before storming up to his (former) bedroom, where he’d hurriedly re-packed his belongings -- in addition to a few other things that he wasn’t able to bring to school with him -- and left.

Or would’ve, but when he got out to his car, he found Lizzie -- then eighteen -- leaning against the Prince, suitcase in hand.

“I’m coming with you.” Was the only thing she’d said, and too exhausted from the fight with his father, Derek let her.

Later, she would reveal how she was tired of everyone expecting her to be a carbon copy of her sister, and that she felt trapped and needed to escape -- to get as far away from the Venturi-McDonald household as humanly possible.

It was precisely that common understanding of inadequacy (for Derek knew exactly how it felt being compared to “Little Miss Perfect” Casey McDonald when it came to grades. Hell, even his younger brother was smarter -- luckily, that was the only thing that Edwin held over the infamous slacker) that solidified the bond between them. Before that, they were never particularly close. Sure, Derek taught her how to play hockey when she was twelve and sure, Lizzie was the only one (besides Marti) who could guilt-trip him into doing the right thing… but other than that, there was nothing. Lizzie had always been closer to Edwin than to him, and in an ironic twist of fate, he’d always been closer to Casey despite their disdain for one another.

That is, until Lizzie moved in with him.

They connected rather quickly -- mostly because, in all of Paris… in all of Europe, in fact… they only knew each other. With the exception of Derek’s Photography Professor and new boss, Pierre Richard. Then there was the fact that, even though they lived in a luxury condo, there was only one bedroom. Because Pierre hadn’t expected a tag-along, and had already paid for everything.

Fortunately, Lizzie wasn’t a burden, and she was able to earn her keep. When her and Casey still went to their private school in Toronto (before Nora had married his dad), she’d learned to speak French fluently… so there was no language barrier, and she found a job within days of being there as a waitress at an expensive and popular restaurant -- which meant big bucks, which meant that she could help Derek with the rent.

She was also enough family so that he didn’t miss his (their) own as much -- save for Marti, of course, but he still corresponded with the youngest Venturi frequently through e-mail, and she kept him updated about what was happening at home since he wasn’t exactly on speaking terms with anyone else. He was still angry with his dad; Casey drowned herself in her studies and had basically lost contact with everyone except during the holidays (her visits were even rarer than Derek’s), as had Edwin; and Nora blamed him for “corrupting her little girl” and was under the impression that he’d somehow coerced Lizzie into coming with him to Paris.

To top things off, she was good company; she was passionate and entertaining, but not irritatingly over-dramatic like Casey.

However, it wasn’t long before something else started to build between them. Something more than just friendship.

Derek saw more of Lizzie in the first couple of days of living with her than he’d ever wanted… but it was during this time that he’d realized just how much she’d grown up. She managed to invade more wet dreams than any other girl -- excluding Sally -- ever had, resulting in him sleeping on the living room couch for weeks.

Things eventually came to a head a few months later when they had too much to drink on Valentine’s Day and ended up almost having sex on the kitchen table. The following morning, they were forced to address the intimate feelings growing between them, and after a long talk (in which Lizzie also confessed how he was her first crush, and how she still found him attractive), they decided to give dating a shot.

They’d been together ever since.

That was a year ago.

Presently, Derek found himself kneeling on a section of grass with his camera while snapping pictures of Jacqueline Rousseau -- the niece of a good friend of Pierre’s, and an aspiring model. She was younger than Lizzie -- about sixteen or so -- but thanks to plenty of makeup, she looked much older.

“Travail fantastique, Jacqueline!” Pierre called out from behind him, as Jacqueline struck another appealing pose. He applauded the teen before crouching down to Derek’s level and adding, his French accent thick, “You too, Derek. Very good. I think you’ve earned yourself a break… in fact, I’ll take over from here. Go home to your girlfriend.”

Derek paused and glanced over. “You sure?”

His boss nodded.

“Oui.” He said. “After all… it is Valentine’s Day.”

“Alright, then…” Derek replied slowly -- uncertainly, handing his camera over to Pierre and rising to his feet. “Thanks, man. I owe you one.” He turned and nodded to Jacqueline. “Voyez-vous demain.”

She smiled in return and waved goodbye, and Derek started for the Métro.

x

“I’m home!” Derek yelled as he walked through the door. He paused when he smelled something burning. “Lizzie?”

He made his way into the kitchen, where he spotted his younger step-sister sitting on the tiled floor covered in flour, wearing oven mittens and holding what appeared to be a tray of wet asphalt. There was a cloud of smoke resonating from the oven itself (which explained the burning smell) and on the counter lay an open recipe book.

“Uh…” Perplexity too strong, his words failed him.

“You left me a bouquet… I wanted to do something for you too, and since I knew you liked cupcakes, I made you some.” Lizzie explained, grimacing. “Or tried to. I think I left them in the oven too long, though.”

Derek raised an eyebrow amusedly. “You think?”

The nineteen-year-old flushed a deep shade of scarlet and avoided his gaze, all the while thrusting the tray up to him.

“Yours.” She said. “I’m sorry they turned out so bad.”

Derek took the tray from her and set it on the countertop before hoisting her up and pulling her into his tight embrace.

“It’s fine. I’m sure they would’ve been delicious.”

Lizzie relaxed against him, sliding her arms around his middle and hugging back.

“Really?” She asked hopefully.

“No. You’re a horrible cook.” Derek answered, shaking his head.

Lizzie scowled and punched his bicep. “You jerk!”

x

Later that evening, Derek sat on the sofa watching hockey (thank God for English subtitles) while Lizzie hummed quietly to herself and painted a large canvas in her makeshift art studio -- which was actually just the other half of their living room. A large curtain had been put up and drawn so that each of them had their own privacy to do whatever they pleased, whenever they wanted so as not to disturb the other.

An abrupt slope of the couch cushion jarred Derek from his reverie. Peering over, he saw that Lizzie had plopped down beside him, her clothes (however little) splattered in an array of color. Unconsciously, his eyes raked over her body taken in the sight before him: specifically the long creamy legs that her boy-shorts left exposed, and the generous cleavage shot that her loose tank top revealed.

It wasn’t uncommon for her to be skipping around in only her undergarments. She’d taken to feeling “free” in every way imaginable, wearing next to nothing whilst at home. It seemed as though she had developed an almost hippie-esque sense of fashion, and even lifestyle, but without the drugs, and went as far as to wear bras only in public. Hell, she would probably walk around nude if she could -- but Derek forbade it, because he knew he wouldn’t be able to control himself if she did.

Tearing his gaze away, he focused his attention back on the game in an attempt to erase all lecherous thoughts -- but merely for a brief time, until the screen suddenly went black.

Derek’s head immediately snapped back in Lizzie’s direction and he opened his mouth to protest, but before he could, his step-sister had thrown her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his.

He stiffened at first, but soon relaxed and kissed back. He felt her smile before she pulled away. Then, using all of her strength, Lizzie shoved him back against the arm of the sofa and climbed on top of him, where she quickly resumed where she’d left off. Derek didn’t mind -- he enjoyed it when the girls he dated took charge of the situation, and Lizzie McDonald was definitely notorious for that -- at least, that’s what he gathered from her interactions with Edwin and Jamie.

Instead, he placed one hand on her hip to stabilize her while the other drifted south and ghosted across one of her bare legs, leaving goosebumps in in its wake. He then hooked his fingers under her knee, and began to trace various designs and symbols in soothing motions along the soft flesh that lay there, making Lizzie quiver against him.

Things came to a swift halt when Derek felt her reach for the zipper of his jeans. Breaking the kiss, he grabbed her wrist and prevented her from going any further. Lizzie simply pouted and buried her face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his musky scent.

“I don’t get it. Why do you always stop me?” She muttered. “Most guys would let me…”

“I’m not most guys. I have class.” Derek responded.

Lizzie snorted, lifting her head.

“You’re kidding, right?” She asked, giving him an incredulous look. “This coming from the guy who lost his virginity in the ninth grade to not one, but two senior cheerleaders? Oh, and let’s not forget how you made out with my cousin within hours of knowing her.”

Derek made a face.

“This is different.” He said.

“Why?” Lizzie challenged. “Because I’m your step-sister?”

Derek shook his head.

“That doesn’t matter. It’s because… well… I knew you when you were twelve…” He trailed off.

Lizzie smiled weakly. “I’m not twelve anymore, Derek.”

“I know… but -”

“I’m ready.”

The Venturi tried to protest, but stopped when Lizzie suddenly leaned in close, her lips brushing against his ear.

“Make me yours, Derek Venturi.” She whispered huskily.

Derek’s eyes darkened with lust, and without warning, he dragged her down into a deep kiss.

x

Two hours and six orgasms later, Lizzie lay curled next to him on her (his? Their?) bed, flushed and coated in sweat with her hair matted to her face and navy sheets wrapped around her lithe form.

“That was… amazing.” She breathed, resting her cheek on his toned chest. “Thank you.”

“Your welcome.” Derek murmured, stroking her skin.

They remained silent for a good five minutes before Lizzie spoke again.

“I’ve been meaning to ask…” She said, tracing the edge of his navel. “Have you told anyone at home about us yet?”

“No. Have you?”

Lizzie nodded. “Casey.”

“And?” He coaxed.

The McDonald girl laughed.

“She left an angry message saying how she thought you were a bad influence, and that the only reason I’m with you -- the only reason that I even moved in with you -- is because all those years of living under the same roof as you had tainted my judgment.” Lizzie told him. “She hasn’t returned any of my phone calls or e-mails since.” She tilted her head to stare at him. “Are you mad at me for telling them?”

“Not at all.” Derek said honestly.

“That’s good.” Lizzie smiled, snuggling into him and closing her eyes. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Derek.”

“You too, Liz.”

X

FIN

X

And that’s that.

Hope you guys enjoyed!

Please REVIEW!

-Lady Azura-