Note: Thanks for reading and remember, reviews and suggestions are welcome :) Sorry if this is sucky, I wrote it pretty quickly. I'm not happy with it, but I posted it anyway.

Note 2: Updates are going to take a longer time now that school has started, but I'll try my best

Disclaimer: I don't own Life with Derek

Derek's POV: She wears my clothes

"Smerek! You have to come out! The game is in two hours!"

"Coming Smarti!" is what he manages to squeak out before puking into the toilet bowl for the fifth time since that morning. The playoffs were today and as usual, Derek was having his last minute nervousness. He liked to think of it as a "pre-game ritual". He had to be at the school in an hour to go over the strategy for the last time with the coach and the rest of the team.

He slowly picked himself up off the bathroom floor, flushing the vomit down, and heading over to the sink. Quickly, he rinsed out his mouth and brushed his teeth to rid himself of the putrid smell, ignoring the burning sensation in his throat. Then splashing his face with cool water and fussing up his hair, he took a deep breath and finally came out of the bathroom he had locked himself in after breakfast that morning.

The first thing he sees is her. In his jersey.

"What are you wearing?" he asks, his eyes narrowing.

"Mom told me and Lizzie to wear your old jerseys to show our support at the game! Isn't that great?" Casey said brightly, obviously not noticing his demeanor, or simply choosing to ignore it.

"Yeah, I can see that. Now take it off."

"Oh come on, Derek, it's not like you need it anymore."

"I know I don't need it anymore, but it's still mine. Now take it off and wear something else, literally anything else," he said, his jaw clenching.

"No," is her firm reply and she turns to go downstairs, with the 'Venturi 01' mocking him from behind.

He chases after her. He hates it when she wears his clothes. That one time after he pranked her was enough. She can't be in his clothes. It's too distracting. Just something about her wrapped up in something that was once his, something that smells like him, represents him, just messes with his head too much. It's because he doesn't want her girly scent on it, he tells himself. He doesn't want Klutzilla in the stands cheering and have everyone knowing she's there for him. Yes, that's exactly it.

"Come on just take it off, its mine!" he calls after her.

"Why? You haven't worn it since freshman year! Lizzie's wearing one too! What's the big deal if I am?" she yells back.

"Because you're gonna get your Casey-ness all over it and its MINE!"

"Oh, you think I want to be wearing it? Do I look like I want to be covered in Derek sweat?"

"Then what's the problem? Just take it off!"

"I'm only wearing it because Mom thought it would be a good idea to show you some support since you're really nervous about the game!"

He scoffs."I am NOT nervous! And I don't need your support!"

"FINE! Then I guess I just won't come to your stupid game anyway!"She swiftly rips the jersey off, thankfully wearing a tank top underneath, throwing it at his feet and retreating up the steps.

"It's not a stupid game!" he yells dumbly, after her door slams.

George, known for his impeccable timing, finally comes to the dining room where the whole scene took place, and asks, "What's with all the yelling?"

"Oh, nothing, Casey's just throwing a fit and making everything about herself as usual," Derek says, raising his voice to make sure she hears.

"Derek, I get that it's your day and everything, but could you try not to be so rude to her all the time? Please."

"She started it Dad."

"Well, you can go end it. Ed, Liz, Marti, Casey! We've gotta go now or we're gonna be late!"

Edwin, Lizzie, and Marti quickly emerge from their room, heading down the stairs and to the door to grab their coats.

"Nora! We're ready!"

"Coming, Georgie!" she says, hurriedly coming from the basement and heading straight for the door. "Where's Casey?" she asks, putting on her jacket.

"Not coming," Derek replies, shrugging on his own leather jacket.

"Case! Get down here, please! We don't want to be late!"

"I'm not coming since I'm so obviously not welcome!" she yells down.

George and Nora send glares at Derek, to which he just shrugs.

"Get her down here and be in the car in five minutes," is all George says before him, Nora, and the kids head out, slamming the door behind them.

Sighing, he grabs the jersey from his feet, and heads upstairs.

When he enters her room she's laying on her bed, facing the other way, so he can't tell if she acknowledges his presence.

"Case, come on, we're gonna be late."

"I'm not coming. Just go."

He sits on the edge of her bed, not facing her. Running his fingers over the pattern on his pink sheets, thinking about what to say. He decides to go with honesty. "Of course, I need your support. I want you there, I swear."

"No, you don't."

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't. So please, just come. For me. Please?"

She sits up at the sound of him saying please, with an incredulous expression. He turns around, hands her the jersey, still not looking at her, and walks out before she can say anything else.

They win. Of course, they win. He plays better because she's there. It's because she thinks the game is stupid and he wants to show how great it can be. That's why he looks for her in the stands, every time he makes a goal. It's his duty as a proud Canadian. It's not because he wants to impress her, at all.

Everyone's cheering and patting him on the back as he makes his way to the family car in the parking lot.

He gets a pat on the back from his Dad, a hug from Nora, Lizzie, and Marti, and a high-five from Edwin. They're already piling into the car, when Casey makes his way over to him, and they hug. It's one-armed and awkward because his hockey bag gets in the way, but it's a hug.

When they finally make it home after celebrating with the rest of the team at Smelly Nelly's, its almost 10 o'clock.

He watches her make her way upstairs, clearly tired, and gets there just in time to see her kick off her shoes and collapse onto her bed.

He smiles and shakes his head, heading to his own room, and even though he's worn-out and exhausted, sleep won't come because the only thought running through his head is that she's right next door. Sleeping. In his clothes.

He loves it when she wears his clothes.