(Loriot: This, by far, is the longest section. I'd intended in making them about equal, but no go. I still think it should be a bit longer, to give more of the story, but I don't want to make it too long and bore you so I ended it … though it wasn't so much the end as the middle that I thought needed more. Oh, well. I did cut out one section, as it really wasn't needed in the grand scheme of things. I hope you enjoy this! Please, if you choose to review, let me know what parts you liked, what parts you didn't, etc., and why. Thanks!

And, as a note, I am hoping to make my next story, a oneshot, a crack!fic of sorts. One that involves Sammy, her dad, and amusing twist. One person already knows who I have in mind, but beyond that I'm keeping it under wraps until I post the story. :D Though … anyone have any ideas for a 'clever' crime I can use?

Also, random thought that's been floating 'round my head for some time ... anyone think that Casey's hispanic? At least partially? 'cause Acosta is a Hispanic lastname, and I dunno where I'm trying to go with this, so on to the story.)

Exclamatioin

Chaos, utter chaos, is what Sammy foresaw in her future. She and Casey had been 'official' for nearly four months, and they had yet to mention it to anyone. They hadn't wanted anyone to know in the beginning, while they were still adjusting to their shift in relationship status. Also, Casey hadn't wanted to hurt Jude by dating someone else so suddenly. But as the weeks slipped by, Sammy was astounded that no one picked up on anything. 'Course, how they behaved around each other hadn't really changed as a result of the whole dating thing. Sammy and Casey still teased each other, cracked jokes at each other's expense, spent time with their own groups. Their friends were already well aware that the couple had "their" time once or twice a month. More often than not, they would even invite others to join them to watch a movie as well. Sammy really didn't want to tell anyone outright. She had a (bit irrational) fear of the backlash she could receive from mother and grandmother. 'Course she knew that she was blowing the entire thing out of proportion, and Casey had concurred, while laughing, when she had discussed this with him. Sammy just couldn't help but be a bit paranoid. Casey understood, sympathized, and could honestly care less if anyone else knew.

Casey was pretty sure his dad had an idea as to what was going on, though. Even if he never brought it up, Casey knew his dad was observant enough to pick up on small things – the messy hair, the askew outfits, the light marks on their necks after they'd spent time together. Casey appreciated the trust (not that he'd take advantage of it), and didn't mention his suspicions to Sammy.

Sammy.

He really cared about Sammy. Casey was the type of guy who wanted to do things, get things for "his girl," but he also knew Sammy well enough that he understood she would not appreciate it the same way other girls would. Still … a burned CD with her name on it left on his desk for her to find, little notes left in her locker, and other (sometimes quirky) ways to let her know she was thinking about him seemed to work like a charm. The couple had kept Valentine's Day simple.

The week or so following that date, Sammy had officially given up on her friends figuring out on their own that she and Casey were dating. If they hadn't noticed by that point, they wouldn't ever pick up on it. Not that she thought they were dense, no, but they were simply too wrapped up in their own lives to actually notice anything. Now they would have to drop the bomb, so to speak. At some point. Later (preferably) rather than sooner.

Sammy (still) in the back of her mind sensed some foreboding of trouble.

It all started on a Saturday. She had gone over to Casey's house early that morning, greeting a sleepy Warren with a smile. Now she and Casey were sitting at the kitchen table working on their homework (no, really). Warren sat in the living room, reading a book. The TV was on, volume low, as background noise while the two teenagers studied. Sammy was going through her math text; Casey diligently worked through his SAT prep book, biting the end of his pencil anxiously. Sammy, her mouth tucked into a worried frown, reached over and slapped his back reassuringly with a soft smile.

"It'll be fine, Case. You have another week to study." Her hand was resting on his shoulder lightly, now.

Casey snorted, but took Sammy's hand and kissed it before returning to his work. They sat there silently, together, for awhile longer. Warren excused himself to go shopping for the week, telling Casey to get Sammy home safely later. Ten or so minutes after he left, Sammy yawned and stretched, closing her book as she was finished with her homework. The late morning sunlight poured through the window, bathing the kitchen table in a bright light. Sammy's gaze shifted to Casey, watching him as he quickly scratched out an equation on a spare piece of paper. Sammy stood up. Placing a hand on Casey's shoulder, she leaned against him.

"Com'on, Casey, why don't you take a break? We could go skateboard, watch a movie, play a game … or something. You shouldn't stress yourself out too much. You're nearly burnt out as it is." Sammy carefully took the pencil from his hand and closed the book. Casey sighed, rubbing his (slightly bloodshot) eyes with his left hand and gave a noncommittal grunt. Sammy rolled her eyes and tugged on his sleeve 'til he stood up. She looped her arms around his waist; he draped his over her shoulders, resting his forehead against hers. "Casey. It's just a test. I know it's a big deal, but the more you stress, the less you'll be able to do. If worst comes to worst, you can just retake it."

"I know. I just keep hearing all these awful things from the seniors. Five hours. Five freakin' hours of filling in a bubble."

"But after that – it's done!" Sammy grinned up at him. Casey smiled (softly), and dropped his arms, resting his hands (dangerously) low on her hips, gently tracing the hem of her shirt. She tilted her head slightly, meeting his lips in a gentle kiss. She tightened her grip around his waist as she felt his mouth open. Sighing (nearly) inaudibly, she reciprocated willingly (happily), leaning against the table. He pressed himself against her as he held her, running his hands lightly over her curves, and the couple was so caught up in their moment that they don't hear the door slam. They didn't hear the voice in the hall way. They didn't hear the heels against the hardwood. They did, however, hear the high pitched scream when their intruder found them. The couple jumped away from each other as if they had been electrocuted.

Heather was standing in the doorway, her red-painted mouth hanging open in shock. The three stood silently, in shock, glancing back and forth between the others unsure what to do. Casey was the first to speak.

"Hi, Heather." He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. Sammy felt her stomach drop – this was not going to end well. She and Heather hadn't really resolved any of their differences while their parents were dating. More than anything they avoided each other, yet Sammy doubted she would ignore the fact she'd just walked in on her older brother sucking face with her "enemy."

"Casey, what the frick! Why were you … rubbing gums with that narc?"

"Well, Heather, you see when a guy and a girl really like each other, they have these certain urges to –"

"Stop! Ew! I'm going to have that burned into my brain forever." Heather advanced on Sammy, jabbing her sharply (rather painfully) in the chest with a manicured nail. "Whadja do? Seduce my idiot brother or something? I knew you had the hots for him, but I didn't think you'd do anything about it."

"Heather, for the love of—! She didn't seduce me!"

"Dad's gonna hear about this!"

"Fine, tell him, I don't care! We aren't doing anything wrong!" Casey grabbed Sammy's hand, gripping it tightly as he stared down his sister.

"We were practically," Heather shuddered before uttering the last word, "siblings."

"Key word being practically," Sammy interjected, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, shut up!"

"Don't tell her to shut up!"

"Don't tell me what to do!" Heather approached her brother, shoving him.

"You're acting like a five year old, Heather!"

"Stop!" Sammy stepped between the two. She held a hand up to Heather, the other resting lightly on Casey's chest as he scowled.

"What's going on, guys?"

Three heads snapped to attention, eyes on the kitchen entrance. Warren was standing in the doorway, shopping bags in hand. He (slowly) set them on the ground before smiling good naturedly at the three teenagers.

"Would you mind helping me unload the car? I bought –"

"Dad!" Heather was instantly at his side, tugging on his sleeve in what she hoped was a cute way. "Casey was making out with Sammy! Practically on the table! Don't you think that's …" Heather struggled to find the right word, "inappropriate?" Casey had the good grace to look sheepish; Sammy stood behind him, slightly, blushing.

"Heather, I really don't think that this really involves you in any way," Warren said, a vaguely amused smile on his face, "Who Casey spends his time with, and how, is his business. Possibly mine, depending on what sort of … trouble he gets into." Warren shot his son a look. "But certainly not yours, Heather. Would you like it if Casey ran to me next time he found out you were with some guy?"

Heather didn't reply. She merely huffed and stormed out of the house. A few minutes passed. Warren continued to unpack the groceries while Sammy and Casey stood there uncomfortably.

"Dad –" Casey finally managed to croak out.

"Like I said, Case. I don't need to know … though; perhaps you and I should have a talk later. Once Sammy leaves?"

"You knew, then? I was right?"

"I was sixteen once, too."

Casey sighed, running a hand through his hair, cheeks flushed in embarrassment. Sammy gripped his hand (tighter), and smiled at him. The kitchen was silent except for the rustling of grocery bags.

Later that day, Sammy decided to (finally) let Grams in on her "dirty little secret." She would find out soon enough, somehow, now that Heather knew, and it might as well come from Sammy herself rather than a third party. The conversation started off well enough, but, once Grams found out the duration they'd been dating, it all when downhill.

"Alone, at his house …" Grams muttered to herself. Sammy groaned, flopping down on the couch. She wondered if sending her to Hollywood had crossed Grams mind yet. Certainly did after Grams had found out she and Casey had "slept" together during their camping trip post-seventh grade, but now any of these fears had a legitimate influence.

"Geez, Grams. We don't do anything. Well … we do stuff, but nowhere near as bad as you're making it in your mind." She ran a hand through her hair thinking that Casey had ought to be grateful that she loved him enough to put up with what this conversations (and subsequent ones, she was sure) entailed. She froze half-way through the thought, eyes wide. Love.

Love?

Yes, she was (pretty-almost-maybe) sure, she loved him. In that way. The realization hit her hard, her chest tightening, as she thought about him – about how kind he was, how funny, their mutual interests, how well he knew her … She shook her head, trying to focus on what Grams was saying.

Grams took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes wearily. "Your mother –"

"Grams, I'm nothing like Lady Lana. For one – I generally think before I act. Anyway, Casey and I had this discussion before, about our limits … Grams, I have no intention of pulling a Lady Lana. There is a zero percent chance of that happening in the near future, possibly not until I get married."

Her last comment seemed to calm Grams down. They sat silently for awhile. Sammy's mind still buzzing with new knowledge. Did he feel the same way? Then Grams turned and asked her, "Does Hudson know?"

"Grams!"

The following day she was submitted to a similar conversation with Hudson (apparently her grandmother didn't fully trust her), but into a bit more detail as Hudson was able to give her the "teenaged boy's perspective" and how she should never feel pressured into doing anything. It was a painful conversation, which Sammy had no desire to ever (ever) repeat. She was still reeling from the traumatizing conversation that she'd completely forgotten about the whole Heather incident by Monday. She'd been greeted at her locker by Marissa, Holly, and Dot – all three were furious she'd kept something so significant from them, not allowing her to explain herself before they left her for class. The rest of the day went just as smoothly. She lost one of her textbooks, dropped her lunch, and wasn't able to talk to Casey. By the end of the day she was so (freakin') frustrated, that she waited outside of the auditorium until the musical's rehearsal let out rather than in her usual spot. When she saw Casey, she grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him away from the afterschool crowd. As soon as they were in a secluded area of the school, Sammy stopped, throwing herself at him, wrapping her arms around his waist, burying her face in his neck. With a sigh, Casey wrapped his arms around her.

"Bad day?"

"Bad few days," Sammy mumbled. "Your sister can be a pain in the butt. Did Billy say anything to you today?"

"Mainly made fun of me … about you." Sammy snickered. She pulled away from Casey, deciding to lean against the lockers instead. She studied his face, wondering if it'd look any different now, then blinked, returning to the situation at hand.

"'Course he would. Marissa, Holly, and Dot won't speak to me. Well, they did briefly, to tell me how angry they are, but that's about it."

"I'm sorry."

Sammy shrugged, averting her gaze to her high-tops. "It's my fault."

Casey leaned against the lockers opposite Sammy, trying to catch her eye. "It's both our faults, Sammy. They're probably more upset that they had to hear it from Heather than the fact you didn't tell them earlier."

"Yeah … I'm gonna have to make it up to them somehow … and, ugh, Grams and Hudson had a - the - talk with me over the past couple of days." She grimaced; Casey flinched.

"I had one with my dad. He asked me outright if we're sleeping together. Then proceeded to give me a lecture about protection, even though I told him the truth, and told me he was too young to be a grandfather."

"Grams, I think, only freaked out as much as she did because of my mother. She won't be trusting me anytime soon. Which, I suppose, is understandable." Sammy scuffed one of her high-tops against the gray linoleum. "Mom had me shortly after graduating high school."

"Oh …"

"Yeah."

The pair was silent. Footsteps in the distance echoed (sharply) down the empty halls. Casey watched Sammy as she stood there, slumped against the lockers. He knew her mind was still trying to sort out what she needed to do to repair the relationship between her and her friends. Just something else that sister of his had broken. Uneven bangs obscured her eyes.

"Everything will work out in the end, Sammy," he said softly. She glanced up at him, eyes sad, silently wondering how he could be so sure. "'Cause they're your friends." He chuckled. "Hell, they were pushing you at me in seventh grade before you were sure that you even liked me, right?"

Sammy laughed, rubbing her eyes. "I know. It'll be fine. I just need to get them to listen to me for, like, five minutes." She stood up straight and walked towards him. She hesitated, stopping in the middle of the hallway, her expression unreadable. "Thanks, Casey," she said softly. Casey cocked his head to the side, studying her. He thought she was beautiful, even with her messy hair, the dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep. She was Sammy, and gorgeous because of that. She had one of the strongest personalities of anyone he'd met and loved her for it (and many other reasons).

He was silent, watching her, frowning. He was (thoroughly) conflicted, mind flying back the weekend. He knew he wanted to tell her how strongly he felt about her, but he wasn't sure. No, not how sure he was about his feelings; he was well aware of them. He'd spent the better part of the previous night thinking things through. This issue was –he wasn't sure how Sammy would take it; wasn't sure if this was the best time to tell her … wasn't sure if she felt the same way.

But, then, considering what happened last time he'd decided to wait to let her know how he felt, perhaps sooner would be better than later.

Casey closed the distance between the, slipping his arms around her waist. He met her eyes. His were soft (but determined). She frowned slightly, but smoothed a hand 'round his waist to mimic his hold on her, the other rested on one of his arms.

"Sammy, I … you know, I really do think you're amazing. You're independent, determined, and have got the longest stubborn streak of almost anyone I know, but you're also thoughtful, and loyal, and caring, and funny, and I'm so happy that I have you with me … and this is turning out much sappier than I'd intended it to be, and I know you don't like sappy, but –"

Laughing slightly, Sammy had placed a (gentle) hand over his mouth. "Cool your heels, Case." He chuckled at the phrase; she grinned, touching his cheek (lovingly) before lowering her hand. "What are you trying to tell me?"

"That I …" he trailed off, his face contorting though a multitude of emotions. She watched him curiously, jumping in surprise when his lips came crashing on hers, kissing her roughly. It took her a minute, but she reciprocated, lacing her free hand through his hair, as she kissed him back with equal force (not one to be outdone). When he finally pulled away, they were both breathing heavily.

"I love you, Sammy Keyes," he declared quietly, brushing a bit of her hair from her face. Her eyes, were wide, shocked. A few moments later, he began to ramble once again, "I don't know if this is a bad time, or even if you feel the same way, but I thought –"

He was cut off when Sammy pressed her lips to his, once again, though not nearly as roughly as before. Casey, surprised, had a delayed response. Before he could respond, though, Sammy had pulled away, smiling broadly. Nothing else mattered in this moment, she decided, nothing. Friends, family – all of these matters could be (and would be) resolved later, but right here, right now, this was a moment to be happy.

"I love you, too, Casey Acosta."

Fin!