FBI (For Basic Idiots)

Mine

Contrary to popular belief of anybody who knows her, Stiles is actually capable of keeping her mouth shut and her thoughts to herself. Though, usually, that only ever occurs when she doesn’t want to look like an i***t. Which, OK, she does, a lot of the time. But it’s a different kind of being an i***t. The usual kind that people expect from Stiles Stilinski – awkward limbed and loudmouthed.

Stiles is used to people thinking she’s an i***t in that regard, but very early on in life, she learned not to give a crap. She’s smart, a lot smarter than most people – even Lydia (unless it’s to do with chemistry and math) – and her intelligence is the one part of her that ever allowed her to find her self confidence.

But she’s no prize to look at – she doesn’t think, anyway. She knows she’s not completely unattractive, just knows she’s not the conventional type, is all. And as Lydia often still tells her; her face isn’t the problem, she could just look so much better if she dressed better, “is all.”

Which – rude...

But... yeah.

And no, she knows that’s never happening, because she’s the comfort over style any day of the week sort of gal. Always has and always will be. And the fact that she’s always been a tomboy only adds to the “unconventional” mix.

Still... doesn’t mean that she’s totally invisible, like this stupid blonde bimbo of a diner server seems to act like.

Again, rude...

And it totally has only a little bit to do with the fact that she hasn’t stopped trying to flirt with Derek since he and Stiles walked through the door. It’s so unprofessional, but still, Stiles doesn’t say a thing about it, doesn’t let it show how much it annoys her.

When they first take their seats opposite one another, Stiles has her menu practically thrown at her, while Derek’s is slid smoothly onto the table in front of him, complete with the gory red lipstick induced sickeningly sweet smile. Stiles wants to throw up, doesn’t, somehow, instead grits her teeth and stays quiet as she flips through the menu.

“Are you new in town, handsome?” She asks in a voice just as vomit inducing as her... everything else. Down to the skimpy skirt barely covering the tops of her thighs...

Stiles supposes what annoys her the most is how gorgeous this stupid b***h actually is.

Ugh.

Fuck her life.

Although, what the blonde says next almost makes Stiles burst out laughing...

“Haven’t seen you in here before.” She says, twirls a lock of those perfect golden curls around her finger in her free hand, the other gripping a crumpled up notepad.

Well, at least, this w***e doesn’t have the brains to go with that body.

Derek fights back a scowl, instead, musters up a polite smile. Also, he really has to try not to sound so condescending when he answers. Although, he guesses she probably wouldn’t realise if he was anyway. “Yeah, uh, this place is new right? Only opened a couple of days ago?” His gaze briefly flickers to Stiles, and again, he has to will himself to do the opposite when he sees her hiding her little smirk behind her menu.

The blonde’s cheeks flush a little, but Stiles has to give the b***h credit for not stuttering out her words (like Stiles knows she would be doing... actually she still does whenever Derek is being oddly friendly and teasing with her.)

“Right, no. Of course.”

And now, Stiles is gritting her teeth again as the blonde shoots him a cheeky grin as she lays a freshly manicured hand on his shoulder and tells him, “You got me all flustered.”

Stiles keeps her eyes glued to the menu, but not really taking any of it in, simply listening. And though she doesn’t see the look of clear discomfort flash briefly over his face, she still doesn’t know why she’s so surprised by his response.

“Uh, I’m sorry about that...?” Derek shoots her small, but sheepish smile, then, quickly picks up his menu and politely asks, “Can we order everything now?”

Stiles lifts her gaze, eyes peeking over the top of her menu, brow raising ever so slightly as she watches him slowly shrug her hand from his shoulder. Her eyes instantly dart to the blonde, and Stiles has to fight back another smirk (of pure satisfaction) when she sees the flirty light in those annoyingly pretty baby blue eyes dimming rather considerably.

“Of course.” Blondie presses on a smile that’s clearly less enthused, but Stiles isn’t stupid, she knows that isn’t the end of her attempts.

‘Ugh! He’s not even mine, i***t! Why does it matter so much? Not like you haven’t watched him be with every woman apart from you. What’s one more to the stupid list?’ Stiles berates herself, taunts herself to hopefully snap out of this madness – stupid jealousy. It’s always been a con of hers – even down to when Scott first started ditching her to hang out with Allison. Though, she’s gotten a lot better the older she’s gotten... mostly...

“Thanks.” Derek shoots her small smile, finally glances back to Stiles. He smirks slightly when he sees her hiding behind her own menu, lifts a hand and gently pulls it down so he can see her. His smirk widens when she only blinks back at him, stares back at him with those lovely big amber eyes of hers. He almost forgets to breath. Almost forgets what he was going to say.

“Lemme guess – two cheeseburgers stuffed with bacon and lots of curly fries?”

Her eyes widen, then, quickly narrow, and Stiles’ heart simply flutters at the proud little grin he gives her. Somehow, she steels herself enough to answer without sounding like a total i***t. “You forgot about the strawberry milkshake.”

Derek lets out a quiet chuckle at her reply, leans back in his seat with a nod before glancing back to their lovely server. “I’ll have the same. Thanks.”

“No problem.” Blondie smiles sweetly, but Stiles just knows that something is coming, and she’s right when blondie finally looks at her and says, “You must have an athlete’s body. I wish I had as much muscle as you, girl. I bet that’s why you have to eat so much, huh? Protein and whatnot.”

“And whatnot.” Stiles answers with a simple nod, her tone completely neutral.

Blondie shoots her another sickeningly sweet smile before telling them she’ll get right on their order.

Stiles watches after her with slowly narrowing eyes, and Derek can’t help grinning a little as he watches Stiles. Stiles feels his gaze on her – she doesn’t know how she always feels it, but she always has – narrows her eyes at him instead when she sees his face half lit up with amusement. “Well, we can’t all have a porn star’s body.” She mutters out, rolls her eyes when he chuckles again, but secretly, wants to smile at the lovely sound – a sound that used to be non-existent, she never not wants to hear it again.

“Ignore her.” Derek tells her, leans his forearms on the table and stares right into her eyes. “I like your muscles.” He shoots her a half grin when she shoots him a withering look first. He may be teasing slightly, but he still means his words. “You’re already strong and fast for a human. You’d make a good wolf.”

“Yeah, no, thank you.” Stiles scoffs quietly. “You’re lovely uncle already tried to offer me that deal.” Her eyes widen in horror as she adds, “Could you imagine my hyperactive brain being turned? Good grief, no.”

“I was joking. Peter’s an idiot.” Derek tells her with a screwed up face of annoyance over merely mentioning his so-called uncle – the man who murdered his sister simply for power, and then, tried to murder what little family and pack Derek managed to make for himself.

“No arguments there.” Stiles nods her agreement.

“You don’t need to change anything for anyone. You’re perfect, just the way you are.” Derek tells her, no sweetness to his words, though, clear fondness underlining his mostly serious tone.

“Well...” Stiles blinks, clears her throat and plays it cool, even when she sees him smiling because she just knows he knows she’s trying to play it cool. “That is very sweet of you to say.” She sends him a grateful smile just as she sees blondie making her way over with their drinks, quickly, and smugly adds, “And I already knew that.”

Derek smiles, and thankfully, for them both, their server doesn’t do much more than she’s supposed to, simply places their milkshakes on the table and saunters off. Though, he’s pretty sure the extra sway of her hips is just for him. His eyes snap to Stiles when he hears her cute little laugh. “What?”

“Your face.” Stiles chuckles again, shakes her head.

Derek scowls slightly – and Stiles only sees that adorable sulk – and quickly asks, “What’s wrong with my face?”

‘God... Nothing!’ Stiles quietly begs for help from any deity ever known to man, somehow still sounds composed enough as she replies. “Haven’t seen you glare like that for a while. Forgot how expressive those furbrows are.”

“And I haven’t missed the animal jokes, but thank you for that new one.”

Stiles grins as he rolls his eyes. “No problem, sourwolf.”

Derek bites back a fond smile over that nickname – the one that used to annoy the hell out of him – holds onto his words as he sees the server approaching with their food.

Blondie – Claire, now that Stiles can see her stupid little name tag – shoots them both a cheap smile as she places their plates down. Though, once she’s done that, she pretty much turns her back to Stiles as she speaks to Derek again. “Lemme know if you need anything else.” She practically purrs her not so subtly suggestive words out, and Stiles rolls her eyes as she shoves a single curly fry into her mouth.

“This is great. Thanks.” Derek motions down to the table, and Stiles does a little victory dance in her head when he doesn’t give blondie another glance, simply begins to dig into his curly fries.

“OK.” Blondie mutters, lets out a little scoff before stalking off.

Stiles pauses, stares curiously after the blonde, glances back down at her food, and then, up to the wolf sitting in front of her. “Do you think she spat in it?” She shoots him a withering look when he pauses and sniffs at his food. “Not yours.”

Derek shoots her a small, but clearly amused smirk. “No, you’re good.” He tells her before resuming shovelling his way through those pile of curly fries.

Stiles smirks back at him. “Not that I’m one to talk, but you wolves really do eat like animals.” She shoots him a small, but cheeky grin when he pauses just to shoot her a weak glare. “It’s cute.” She promises, as if that makes it any better.

She sees him trying not to smile and counts that as two victories in one – the other being that she got him to smile (she always counts that as a win, because it’s another wonderful thing that used to be non-existent from him; that he was robbed and deprived of.)

‘Adorable.’ Derek thinks, smile now urgently tugging at the corners of his lips.

And then, something in her seems to turn off, he sees it in her eyes as soon as she lifts her burger to take the first bite, she freezes halfway then, slowly lowers her burger back to the plate. Her eyes are only half wide, and she seems to be staring at something beside him. He glances to his right, seeing the rest of the empty booth and the wall and nothing else out of the ordinary (other than the awful decor in this place – but Stiles wanted to try it out in here, so of course he agreed.)

The obvious question of what’s wrong halts halfway up his throat when Derek turns his gaze back to her and sees her merely blink away whatever just happened and return to complete normal... He stares cautiously at her, feels deeply concerned. Even when she blinks at him and mumbles she’s OK. Derek scoffs, shoots her an “are you serious?” look.

Stiles huffs. “It’s nothing.” She tells him, mumbles her next words as quietly as she can. “Just a tiny hallucination...”

Derek quickly shoves both their plates to the side and gently grabs both her hands in his. He’s both thankful and elated when her fingers lightly grip at his. He waits until her eyes slowly lift to his and desperately tries to ignore the painful tug on his heart at that miserable look on her perfect face.

Stiles is always grateful for Derek’s support, happy that he always believes her, even when her own friends and family won’t – and even Scott, as awesome as he is, wasn’t born into this supernatural world like Derek was.

However, now it means having to answer the dreaded question she knows he’s going to ask.

“What did you see?”