Cazzie Oneshots

I Might Be Falling (Apart)

By: morningsound15
It's not that Casey meant to hide her relationship with Izzie from her parents.

It's just that she sort of forgot to tell them. Which was understandable, really, all things considered. There had sort of been a lot going on. And it isn't exactly her fault that it slipped her mind. It wasn't on purpose, or anything. It just... never really came up.

Still, Casey somehow doubts Elsa's going to be down with that explanation. Not after she catches the two of them in Casey's room at 9 pm on a Friday night, when Casey's pants are kicked off by the door and her hand is fully up Izzie's shirt.

"Mom!" Casey yells. She scrambles for a pillow half-blind. Panicked, she pulls it over her lap, hoping to cover as much of herself as possible. Izzie, bright pink and mortified, tugs her shirt down with one hand and furiously combs her hair with the other. "Can't you knock?" Casey shoots, scowling.

Elsa just blinks at them, her hand frozen on the doorknob. She's halfway inside the room and halfway out, and it's another few horrible seconds before she seems to come back to herself. "Sorry!" She reaches up and covers her eyes, belatedly, as she tries to back out of the room. "I'm sorry! Casey, your uniform is in the drier for tomorrow. And..." she stops, a few steps away, "your father and I would like to speak with you. Both of you. Downstairs." She peels her hand away from her eyes like she's afraid of what she might see. She looks at them for another few short seconds before saying, brusquely, "Door open," and walking away.

Casey groans and falls back onto her duvet. Izzie is blushing hard next to her. It would be cute if it weren't also mortifying. "Great," Casey grumbles. "I dated Evan for like eight months and she never walked in on us once. Now twice in half a year."

Izzie lets out a weak laugh. "Maybe she can smell it on us." Casey gives her a weird look, and Izzie, if possible, flushes darker. "Not like that."

"Casey!" Elsa shouts from downstairs, and Casey just groans again. She buries her face in her pillow and screams once. When she straightens and looks towards Izzie, she's met with a small smile and a shrug.

"God," Casey huffs. "Fine. Fine."

Elsa and her dad are waiting for them at the kitchen table. They're wearing matching expressions, something that Casey would describe as disappointed-and-embarrassed-parents-who-can't-mind-their-own-business. Casey falls into a chair with a frown already on her face. Izzie is much politer, sinking down next to her gently, and without a word. Her fingers twitch against her thighs, and Casey thinks about reaching out and taking her hand, but one look at her mom's face makes her second-guess herself.

So instead, Casey just glowers, her arms folded tightly over her chest. No one speaks for a few more long, horrible moments. "Did you want something," Casey finally asks, "or are we just going to stare at each other for the next half hour?"

Her dad sighs. Izzie fidgets next to her, eyes on the table. "Casey," he says slowly, his voice purposefully quiet, like he's trying to force them all to be calm through sheer willpower, "your mom and I need to talk to you about your relationship."

"What about it?"

"Well, you've clearly been hiding Izzie from us, which means that the rules we have are going to have to change."

"It's not really that big a deal."

"You've been having sleepovers with your girlfriend," Elsa cuts in. "That isn't something we allow in this house."

"Mom, c'mon. We've had like a million sleepovers."

"Before you were dating. There have to be new rules now."