Hey, this is my first LWD fanfiction, so I'm trying to keep them in character while eventually getting to some good Dasey stuff. Please suspend some major disbelief on the sports stuff; I know almost nothing about hockey or when season start and end, but I needed it this way for story purposes. And Casey does NOT have crush on Sam, for the same reason (and also because I don't really like Sam, anyway). So, R&R if you choose, thanks!


Chapter 1


Casey sat in the academic counselor's office going over her resume for college applications. It hadn't occurred to her that something might be lacking in her high school achievements.

"Casey, a lot of schools, and especially the type of school you'd be looking to get into, are looking for well-rounded students. They want to know that you can be good at both academics or athletics, or at least that you tried to diversify your interests. It might be a good idea for you to look into joining one of the teams."

"But I'm not good at any of that, I've spent my life studying to get the GPA I needed for a good college. What am I supposed to do?" Casey cried in horror.

"Look, Casey," the counselor said softly, "It's not mandatory. It's just a suggestion for your resume. But there are a lot of intramural teams here at school, volleyball or softball, maybe. You could see the sports director.." The counselor trailed off, seeing that Casey was playing out the demise of her future in her head. She let her leave the office, telling her again that it was just something to be considered. But for Casey, that was enough. If there was even the slightest chance she would be passed over by her top choice universities, then something had to be done.


"Report card?"

Derek swung back from the banister, stopped in his attempt to escape upstairs.

"Yes, Derek, your report card. They were supposed to be distributed today," George repeated, eying his son suspiciously.

"Oh, right, well… you see, something happened, with the, uh… printer. The printer ..it mistook all the A's for D's, so they can't really distribute anything until they figure out…"

George glared at him.

"I was just trying to lighten things up, sue me," Derek muttered, reluctantly taking the report card out from his backpack.

"I may just do that," George muttered quietly, scanning the paper in his hands. He dropped his arm down in frustration and looked at his son, who couldn't meet his eyes. "Derek, really, I'm tired of this. 3 D's, 2 C-'s, and … ah, a B… in gym." George paused. "How did you get a B in gym?"

"There was an incident with a towel," Derek said slowly, his eyes looking further away. Trying to end the conversation, he quickly followed with, "Maybeafewincidents, but listen, Dad, I've been really…"

"No excuses, Derek. I better not see any D's on the next one. I don't know how many times I have to have this conversation with you, but now you have to start applying to colleges soon, and you don't have that much time to bring your grades up and show them some improvement and maturity."

Derek sighed and took the report card back. He knew his father was right, and Derek did actually care about where he went to university. "Alright," he gave in, "if you need me, I'll be upstairs doing … homework," he finished disdainfully.


Casey spoke to the sports director after school, but soon discovered the man was out of his mind.

"I'm NOT playing hockey."

"Ms. McDonald, I'm not making you do anything. But as I've already explained, most of the teams are in the middle of their season or just ending, even the intramurals. The only things available in the near future are women's hockey tryouts next month for intramural and competitive, and a few open spots on the cheer-" Casey killed the rest of the word with a contemptuous glare. The sports director cleared his throat. "Anyway, that's what I have. Our sports curriculum is fairly limited, I'm sorry."

Casey, feeling defeated, thanked him for his help and started home.


That evening at dinner, Derek and Casey were both particularly miserable, pushing food around their plates. They didn't even have a reason to fight with each other. Finally, Derek pushed his plate away and stood up.

"Where are you off to?" asked Nora.

"Just going out with some of the guys, maybe have a game or something," he said, putting his plate in the sink and heading for his hockey gear.

"Don't you think you have something else to be doing?" George asked him pointedly. "You know, I think you spend a little too much time playing hockey."

"But Dad, come on…"

"And maybe a little too much time driving the car too…"

Derek tossed his stick back against the wall. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his father. "So that's how this is going to be, eh?"

"Not if you get upstairs and do your schoolwork, it won't. But right now, I want to see an effort being made to bring your grades up before anything else." Derek stormed up the stairs angrily and the rest of the family heard the door slam closed.

Casey dropped her fork in frustration. "You know, I should be so lucky to have DEREK's problems! All he has to do is read some books, I have to figure out how to become some kind of athlete before I send my applications out for university. This society places way too much emphasis on physical accomplishment and not nearly enough on…" She noticed that Edwin and Lizzie had feigned falling asleep, Marti was trying to teach her pet stuffed monkey how to hold a fork, and George and Nora were looking at each other. "Hello?" she asked annoyed.

Nora looked back at her and smiled. "Sweetie, no one's forcing you to.."

"I have to! There is no way I'm going to let them reject me because of some stupid sport. I'll just have to figure this out," Casey decided, determined.

"Well, I know a hockey stick that might be free soon," George joked. Edwin gave a little guffaw of "yeah, right." There it was again, hockey. She couldn't get away from it. It was following her around, torturing her, like….

Derek, she thought with an evil grin.


Casey knocked angrily on Derek's door and then burst through. Derek was lying face up on his bed, beating his hands lightly on his bare chest along to angry, sulky music playing on his headphones (so George and Nora wouldn't hear). A book lay across his thighs, open to some irrelevant page. Casey's breath and words caught in her throat at the sight of him, but it was not something she let herself acknowledge consciously.

Derek shot up when he heard someone, grabbing the book. Then he looked up and saw it was Casey. "What are you doing here? This is all your fault, you know. My father never cared so much about my grades until you showed up, Little Miss 4-point-0." Casey smiled proudly in response, almost devilishly.

"Derek Venturi, I have a business proposition for you," she said, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow. Derek hesitated, admiring her stance for a moment.


"Alright," she got excited and threw herself on the foot of his bed, sitting Indian-style across from him. "You need to bring your grades up, but you still want to be able to go out and play hockey, right?"

"Yeah…" Derek leaned back on his hands, sensing that he might actually like this proposition, and raised an eyebrow in return. For a second, he thought he caught Casey shooting the quickest glance at his chest.

"And I need to get on the intramural hockey team, but would still rather spend my time keeping my GPA up."

Derek caught another quick glance and decided to tease her a little bit. "You know, Casey… an arrangement like that would mean us," he leaned in closer to her, "spending a lot of time together." Casey smirked, a Derek smirk.

"And you know, Derek," placing a hand on his chest to push him back, "that you will never be motivated enough to do this by yourself. And then neither of us will be playing hockey."

Derek enjoyed the feeling of Casey's warm hand touching him, her eyes staring slyly into his. It took him a moment to come back to reality and realize that she was right. His hockey AND driving privileges were at stake here, and he still couldn't do much beside sulk and curse at the situation.

"Casey McDonald," he put a hand over hers, just to torment her and keep it there, "you've got a deal."


Ok can someone PLEASE tell me how to put actual break lines. I've tried extra spaces in the paragraphs, lines in the document and the edit, a few stars in between on the document and the edit, " br>" in html mode, and Shift+Enter in simple mode, and it just won't work.