FBI (For Basic Idiots)

Everyone That Isn't You

The Opinionater:

‘Call me. NOW.’

Stiles answers her phone halfway through the first vibration. She’s so excited, but first of all – “Um, how dare you change my name to ‘The Opinionater’ when you are literally the most opinionated person on this planet.”

Lydia huffs, ignores her friend’s complaints by voicing her own on top instead. “I told you NOT to do that! It’s creepy.”

Stiles scoffs, is smirking to herself as she replies. “You talk to dead people on a regular basis, but me taking a quick peak into your mind to see if you’re still awake creeps you out?”

“I do NOT... OK, I talk to dead people.” Lydia huffs out her defeat.

Stiles smirks, because she can hear the wine being poured out. “You’re like a cool version Allison Dubois.”

“Is she the one from the show ‘Medium’?” Lydia asks, only half interested as she finally gets to sit down and have a moment to herself. She loves her kid, but damn, Allie really does have too much energy (even for a 3 year old.)

“Yeah.”

“Hm... So?” Lydia asks, sounds rather impatient.

“So, what?” Stiles blinks, because what?

Lydia makes a noise that sounds like half a snort of amusement and half an annoyed huff. “You asked me to call you, Miss Zero Attention Span.”

“Oh, s**t! Yes!” Stiles is grinning like a fool, but at least no one is there to see her as she practically skips up the stairs to Melissa’s guest room (practically Stiles’ and Scott’s bedroom for whenever they decide to stay.)

“Ooo, you sound happy.” Lydia seems to perk up with deep intrigue and Stiles can hear the amusement so clearly in her tone as speaks again. “Did you finally get laid? ‘Cause I gotta say, Stiles, 9 months without getting any is pretty pathetic.”

Stiles scoffs. “I literally saw you half hour ago, HOW would I have gotten laid? With WHO??”

“Didn’t Derek give you a ride home?” Lydia lets out a mischievous cackle. “How would I know if you gave him a ride right back in kind or not? I’m not actually psychic, like you.”

“Oh, my God. Stop. And I’m not psychic. I can’t see the future OR read minds.” Stiles groans, feels her stupid cheeks heating up even while there’s nobody here to see her. Stiles ignores her laughs, finally just spits it out. “He asked me out.”

“Who?” Lydia sounds genuinely confused.

Stiles lets out an exasperated huff. “Derek!” She hisses before throwing herself face first into the bed. “Derek asked me out on a date.” Stiles lifts her head, scowling in confusion to herself when there’s a small silence that follows her words. “You still there, Red?”

“Yeah, I’m still here. I was pouring myself another, because halle-frigging-lujah!” Lydia cheers before loudly taking a few gulps of her wine to celebrate.

“Um, what?”

Lydia scoffs loudly, takes another couple of gulps of wine before answering. “Now that the wolf’s finally outta the bag – my God, Stiles, you really are the dumbest intelligent person I’ve ever met.”

“Uhhhh...” Stiles purses her lips, because OK, Red isn’t done talking. Stiles knows better than to speak when Lydia is speaking, lest she simply be spoken over.

“I mean, really, Stiles? A blind person would notice all those cutesy looks he gives you. He’s always standing near you when the pack’s all together, or asking where you are and if you’re OK – even though we all know he keeps in touch with you when you’re not here. It’s all very adorable... and slightly pathetic. At first, I thought, ‘OK, she’s just not self-confident enough to think that he could like her like that, and obviously, he doesn’t wanna try anything with a high school girl, which, kudos to him, sweet pup that he really is – I can work with that.’ But holy f**k balls, girl, you’re even more impossible than him. Seriously, we couldn’t believe how frigging long it was taking for you two to just wake up and actually see each other. So, f**k yeah, I’m gonna pour myself a third glass to celebrate.” Lydia can then be heard picking up the bottle, the wine softly glugging into the glass, the glass being swiped off of the marble kitchen counter and then the loud gulps of her downing half in one go (Stiles has no doubt.)

Stiles’ fast paced mind easily takes in all that she’s been told. She blinks, takes a sturdy silent breath before mumbling, “I’m sorry, but who is ‘we’?”

Like she even needs to ask...

“Um, literally everyone that isn’t you.” Lydia tells her, like she should already know.

“What?!” Stiles sputters, rolls over, back pressed to the bed and eyes narrowed up at the stupid (innocent) ceiling fan.

“Not our fault you’re BOTH hopeless romantics.” Lydia snootily replies, then, thoughtfully adds, “Derek, especially. At least none of the people you’ve slept with have tried to kill you.”

From anybody else, Stiles would not let get away with saying something so insensitive sounding. As it happens, Stiles knows Lydia is just being Lydia – and also knows Lydia isn’t completely tactless.

Stiles huffs, gets over herself, mainly because she’s slightly panicked about this date. “What do I do, Red? What do I wear? How shall I do my hair?”

“Sweet Stiles, do not despair!” Lydia exclaims, laughs when the older woman huffs again.

“I’m being serious, asshole!” Stiles hisses, sulks as she flops back over onto her belly.

“Oh, get over it. Whatever you wear, he’ll probably just be ripping it right back off you, so –“

“Excuse me, but I don’t have s*x on a first date. Unlike SOME people.” Stiles tells her while trying not to think about Derek ripping her clothes off... “You’ve spent the last decade of my life using me as your experimental dolly every time I go out on a date with someone, and now that I actually have an actual date with Derek Hale of all people, you’re all ‘meh’ about it!”

“I have literally never said that word in my entire life.” Lydia scoffs, doesn’t care if she sounds pompous – because she knows she’s pompous.

“Lydiaaaaa!”

Lydia laughs. “Alright, alright. I’m obviously gonna help you. Stop whining.”

“Thank you.” Stiles lets out a breath of relief.

“When is the date?”

“Tomorrow night.” Stiles replies, nervously biting at her bottom lip.

“OK. Soon as we’re done with the Drokken beast, come back to my place.”

“Thank you.” Stiles’ grateful smile quickly then morphs into an annoyed grimace as she grumbles, “And it’s your turn to be the bait this time...”

###

“WHY DO I ALWAYS HAVE TO BE THE BAIT!!” Stiles screams at the top of her lungs as she runs through forest, dead leaves kicking up a trail behind her.

The afternoon Sun beating down on her sweaty back only makes her feel more pathetic – you would think running with a pack of werewolves on top of going to the gym would help, but... nope. The heavy footsteps and growling only grow louder behind her, and Stiles sneaks a quick peak over her shoulder to see the Drokken just meters behind her.

Stiles faces forward, presses herself faster as she angrily yells out, “HE’S SO AWKWARD AT MOVING! WHY IS HE SO f*****g FAST?!”

‘Don’t worry, I got your back. I’m right behind you both.’ Derek thinks into the telepathic link Stiles first built for their pack 8 years ago (for these type of “occasions” exactly.)

Stiles hears both Lydia and Malia snort at the wolf’s words, feels herself flushing with embarrassment on top of the scalding heat of her trying to run for her life under the Californian sun. “Girls? SHUT UP!” She yells, only to hear their sniggers in her mind.

‘You’re almost there.’ Scott tells her, ever the supportive and motivational Alpha that he is. Bless his sweet furry soul. Not a single thought behind those pretty dark chocolate eyes. ‘Yeah, I can hear your thoughts right now, too, y’know.’

Stiles manages a smirk at his drawl and unimpressed tone, but in doing so, it’s enough time for her distraction to become her error. Her foot connects to a hidden root under the copious amounts of dead leaves and she goes tumbling down. “Oh, God, really, Stilinski? I’ve become what I hate most; the dumb white girl who dies first in horror movies.”

She hears Scott and Lydia laughing in her mind, then, hears Derek’s loud roar drowning out the Drokken’s snarls as it comes lunging right for her. Stiles rolls onto her back as the Drokken grabs at her ankle with it’s large three taloned paw, tries to kick free, but fails. Derek is there then, leaps right onto the large beast’s back, and one of the talons catches on Stiles’ ankle tearing right through her jeans and skin, making her yelp out in pain.

Derek lets out an angry snarl – her pain filled noise stabbing him right through the heart (he knows he’s dramatic, but that really is what it felt like.) He digs his claws into the beast’s shoulders before using his shifted wolf fangs to bit into it’s neck.

‘Stiles?! Are you OK? What happened? I’m coming –‘

“No. I’m OK, and Derek’s still here. Stick to the plan.” Stiles tells him, somehow manages to force herself up onto her wobbly feet. She can already feel the warm blood seeping down into her sneakers (thank f**k they’re black sneakers.)

The Drokken barely seems pained, mostly seems inconvenienced by the wolf as it gives a violent enough spin to shrug Derek right off of it.

Stiles’ eyes widen in horror and deep concern as she watches the wolf thudding hard onto the ground.

Derek pushes himself up instantly, lets out another angry snarl as the beast ignores him completely and charges straight towards Stiles again. He jumps onto it’s back again, this time spreads his half shifted hands over the beast’s leathery pink face (it looks like a steroid-taking version of Jabba the fricking Hutt, he swears), claws slicing through the slightly toughened flesh.

This seems to anger the Drokken enough to finally pay attention. It backs up to the nearest tree, smashes the wolf right against the thick trunk as hard as possible, wooden splinters flying all around.

Derek groans as the beast turns and hauls him up to face it. He wrinkles his nose in disgust at the foul rotting smell of it’s breath as the beast growls right in his face. He glances over it’s shoulder to Stiles, asks her, “Why aren’t you running?”

Stiles scoffs and sputters back, “I’m not leaving you!” She shoots him an incredulous look.

Derek almost smiles at that until he can't. Instead, he’s roaring out in pain as the beast bites down over his left shoulder. His eyes burn blue, fangs gritted as he struggles to free himself.

“NO! You son of b***h!” Stiles yells out, voice suddenly vibrating loudly through the entire forest.

‘What the f**k? Stiles?’ Scott sounds confused, halfway to impressed.

‘Holy fuck.’ Lydia sounds surprised, impressed and rather proud.

‘Whoa...’ Malia just sounds amazed.

Derek is instantly dropped back to the ground by the beast, who quickly swirls around to face Stiles (who – Derek’s eyes widen at the sight – is glowing with that pale blue light again, her eyes glowing completely white.) He smiles faintly, heaving at the searing pain of the bite (thank f**k Drokkens aren’t venomous.)

For a moment, the Drokken stares at her as if it’s hypnotised, and then, like a moth to a flame, it suddenly charges right for her.

And this time, Stiles just stands there, staring with white blank glowing eyes as the beast freezes all movement the very moment it almost reaches her. Derek’s eyes are half wide and again transfixed – he’s seen Deacon using all kinds of magic, but this really is all new to him. He watches as Stiles seems to curiously regard the beast, and then, she merely blinks once, slowly, and watches with Derek as the Drokken silently goes up in flames.

‘Stiles, no!’ Scott yells, but he can feel that she’s severed the pack’s telepathic link. He’s already rounding the next corner of dense trees, and halting as he stares in horror. By this time, the creature’s ashes are already sailing up into the air before disappearing altogether.

Lydia stands there, tries to keep her mouth shut, because Scott is entitled to his own priorities, but does he forget that not all the people in their pack have never ended a life? She admires his incorruptibility, but at the same time, she really doesn’t like to judge. Not after learning about Paige and Derek, or Malia and her adoptive family, or Stiles and Donavon. Not to mention, her husband is a Sheriff and used to be a soldier, too.

Malia moves over to Derek to help him up, then, simply looks awed as she stares at her friend’s glowing white eyes.

Derek, too, is still staring at Stiles when she blinks and her lovely amber eyes return.

“You killed him.” Scott stares at her with a “what the f**k?” expression. “That wasn’t the plan.”

“I know.” Stiles nods, looks slightly beat. “But it wasn’t gonna –“

“You were the one willing to change the stupid plan before Stiles did change it.” Derek quickly cuts in before he can stop himself. He motions to his wounded shoulder when the Alpha glares at him, sarcastically adds, “Thanks for your help, by the way.”

“We don’t kill.” Scott says, voice calm, but deadly firm.

Malia scoffs. “And what about the ones who had no say in it?”

Scott shoots his mate a withering look. “That’s not the same.”

“It was a Drokken.” Derek snaps. “They eat babies and kittens!”

Scott huffs, mumbles out, “Nobody’s perfect.”

To which, all four of them groan and leave him standing there as they slowly make the trek back to their cars.

Scott glares after them all. “Well, excuuuse me for trying to be a positive role model!”

###

Red:

‘Weren’t you supposed to be coming back to my place?’

The Opinionater:

‘The date is not for another 4 hours. I need to shower and heal my ankle.’

Red:

‘Derek is still there, isn’t he?

PMSL.’

The Opinionater:

‘He needs help extracting a three million inch long Drokken tooth from his shoulder... shut up.’

Red:

‘Nice try. I already texted him to ask if he was OK, and he said he’s almost nearly healed.’

The Opinionater:

‘I hate your guts...

I’ll be there in an hour.’

Red:

‘OK...

But any longer and I’m gonna assume you two are finally f*****g.

LMFAO

I bet you can’t wait to ride that big werewolf knot.’

Stiles almost chokes on her saliva, cheeks burning as she quickly locks her phone and shoves it under the neatly folded clean laundry sweet Melissa left on the chair. She closes her eyes, takes a breath to calm herself until there’s a light knock on the bedroom door and she’s jumping and almost trips over her own feet as she turns to face the wolf.

Derek stands in the open doorway with a small smirk hanging off his stupidly perfect lips. Then, her brain begins to melt a little, because now it sounds like he’s flirting again as he tells her, “Adorable. Funny.” He grins when she narrows her eyes a little, can see that lovely pale cream skin of hers tinting with pink. “But adorable.”

Stiles pouts. “Just ‘adorable’?” She rolls her eyes when he chuckles, but can’t help smiling amusedly. “Lame.”

“I never used to be.” Derek tells her, half humorous, half serious.

Stiles pouts again as he slowly saunters over to her – looking at her like a wolf looking at it’s prey, and goddamn, she’s going to have to ignore the way it makes her feel right now, instead, save it for later, when she’s alone with her hands between her thighs rather than melt down into a puddle of Stiles at his perfect feet.

Ugh.

“I was just playing.” Stiles tells him as he now hovers over her, and she’s suddenly aware of how fricking close they are. She can feel the heat radiating off of him in waves. “Besides, you know how my foot always likes to live in my mouth, so...” She mumbles as she stares back up at him, simply lost in those pretty blue-green orbs (currently shining back down at her with a hint of mischief and a lot of... something else...)

Holy f**k, is he going to –

“So?” Derek mumbles back, head dipping, expression softening as he keeps her gaze.

Even while her heart is practically beating out of her chest and her thoughts are racing a billion miles a second, Stiles’ mouth still remains unfiltered. “Please don’t ask if you can kiss me. That’s so cheesy. Just go for it or don’t, Sournova.”

At her snooty (sexy) tone, a small grin tugs at the corners of Derek’s lips. “‘Sournova’?” He asks, voice barely above a whisper as he slowly moves closer; leans closer.

“Yeah. Y’know, like Casanova and Sourwolf put together. It’s a portmanteau... Shut up. I know I’m a nerd.” Stiles huffs, shoots him a weak glare, even while her brain is still trying to process the fact that he’s getting even closer to her. She doesn’t think he’s even been this close. Well, not out of choice, anyway.

“An adorable nerd.” Derek supplies with a small smirk, their noses now almost touching.

“You really are just –“ Stiles lets out a barely audible scoff, barely gets to mumble out her words before he’s FINALLY leaning in and pressing his lips to hers.