stiles stilinski

“That’s so….. interesting,”

That was putting it mildly

Generally, Stolas didn’t care about people, but he did care about mysteries and curiosities, things like the Mandela Effect and the Bermuda Triangle fascinated him, he could spend all day fishing into things like that, and this was right up his ally

But he didn’t have any information to contribute to it, he couldn’t come up with an explanation for phenomena such as that, so he was just left to simmer over the information, that was all

“Is that so?” he chuckled, his presence suddenly taking on a slightly lighter, softer air

“Well… my daughter Octavia is seventeen, she’s just… it’s so hard to connect with her lately… she’s into darkness and chaos and all those little gothic teen dreams, I don’t really understand them, but I want to try to, I suppose I was just hoping…. perhaps you had some reccomendations or advice, that’s all, perhaps we could exchange information and discuss it some time,”

Stiles was struck suddenly by the outrageousness of the situation. Pulling over a diplomat (something that could put his job in jeopardy if the man wanted to throw a hissy fit) and then being asked for advice from said diplomat? About his seventeen year old daughter, no less.

"Gothic teen dreams, huh? Darkness and chaos?" He chewed on the inside of his bottom lip, running the flesh between his teeth. "I can't say I have any interest in those things myself." A light chuckle as he ran his hand back through his hair and considered the man in front of him. "I know there's a couple of stores where you can get gifts for her. Hot Topic being one of them. It has like, edgy, gothic stuff for teenagers."

“Yep, that’s basically New York in a nutshell for you, less bored but more exhausted,” Derek nodded, leaning back in his chair

“I got to the point where I was throwing up from the stress on a regular basis… I had to take my sister’s advice at that point and make a change, so it was either move to a less active place or quit all together and…. I didn’t want to quit… Laura- my sister- always said I was either too generous with my energy, or too stubborn, and that either way it was going to kill me one day… she’s probably right, but atleast I won’t have a stroke stitching up sliced fingers and casting broken ankles all day,”

Not compared to New York where he dealt with gunshot wounds on a near nightly basis, on top of stabbings, natural disasters, car accidents, that one memorable bomb…

And fires

He… didn’t think he’d ever get the smell of burning flesh out of his nose…..

“That’s…. wow, I can’t… really imagine what a diplomat would be doing here… do you know where he was from?”

It was more than a little perplexing to Derek, why would someone like that be in Echo Springs? Although in retrospect he supposes he should just be glad Stiles decided to keep their date instead of ditching him for the more exciting option….

“Thank you,” he smiled shyly, slicing a peice from his danish with the edge of his fork

“Actually I… kind of feel the same way? I don’t really have anything tangible to complain about, my family is all very close and I love them dearly, I have a good job, I have money, now I have you- or, well, I… I mean I’m on a date with you, wich is… much better than my love life has faired in years… but you’re right, it feels like something is missing, I just…. don’t know what.… how long have you felt this way?”

Stiles was learning a lot about Derek, he realized, and he quite liked what he was hearing so far. Though he felt sympathy for the stressed-out, New York Derek. Stiles was familiar with that kind of stress, often working himself up to that point without too much assistance from the outside world. So he told Derek as much. "I'm familiar with that kind of stress," he admitted, smiling slightly and with a tilt of his chin. "Sounds like your sister cares about you."

As for the diplomat - "No, I don't know where he was from."

He liked Derek's shy smile, he thought, watching as the man sliced a piece of danish off. It was a nice smile. "You have a great smile," he told him, before blushing to the tips of his ears and around the nape of his neck. He ducked his head to get a sip of his coffee, the blush no tbeing helped by Derek's full confirmation that this was a date. Stiles had known, but to hear it out loud brought a reality to it that put a flutter in his stomach.

“Makes sense, I certainly wouldn’t want to do your job in a place like New York or California, I could only imagine,”

He knew police work would never really be easy, but he couldn’t even fathom how insanely difficult and stressfull and dangerous it would be in bigger cities like that

“I’m sure, I would imagine that meeting a diplomat would always be odd as hell,” Derek chuckled, an eyebrow raising

“Although the flirting takes me by surprise,”

When Derek thought of diplomats, he thought of stuffy, overly proper old men, no matter if that were the truth or not, it was just all that came to mind, so he admittedly had quite a hard time picturing one flirting with his date, although Stiles was pretty easy to flirt with….

“Yeah,” Derek nodded after a beat

“I’ve always wanted to help people, I haven’t always been sure about what format that would take though, so I’ve definitely had some back-and-forths and second guessing about it, but I finally settled on nursing because I felt like it was the best way I could do that, I’ve always wanted to do something involving healing and nurses have alot more freedom than doctors to do that, you know?”

He couldn’t help smiling a little at the attention he was getting, it was nice to know that he wasn’t the only one here interested in his date, and it felt like they were forming a real connection rather than just the shallow flirting that Derek was used to getting from potential partners

Stiles tried to imagine having his job in a big place like NYC. He already came home sore-muscled and a little on the weary side, so like Derek, he could only imagine what that might be like. Stiles would be less bored, he reasoned, but a lot of that had to do with ADHD and just generally being a spazz. He settled on, "I wouldn't be as bored -- but I'd be a lot more exhausted."

Stiles briefly wondered if the flirting took Derek by surprise because it was Stiles or because the man was a diplomat. He had to remind himself re: the former that Derek wouldn't be sat across from him if he in any way thought Stiles wasn't at least worth a flirt or two. Relaxing a little at that reminder and scolding himself mentally for trying to let insecurities into his stupid brain, he shrugged. "It was surprising to me, too. But he looked relatively young. For a diplomat, anyway."

And then it was time to focus on Derek. Stiles slid his chair a little closer to the table, barely acknowledging the waitress as their danishes were brought out. As Derek spoke Stiles picked and prodded at his cheese danish before peeling off a corner of the flaky bread and popping it into his mouth with a satisfied hum.

“They sure are,” Harold agreed, cheerily, as he handed his papers to the kid. Officer Stilinski. Whatever. He leaned back against his seat, and waited as the officer looked down at them. He knew they were all in order. “Oh yeah?” he asked, when Stilinski said he’d been doing it a year. About as long as he’d been in Echo Springs. Small world. Very small. He smiled blandly as he waited for Stilinski to be done with whatever he was looking for, letting his mind wander to what was waiting for him at home.

Eventually, Stilinski said the papers were good, and handed them back to him. “Cheers,” he said, opening the glove compartment, folding the papers up, and shoving them back in. He smiled back. “How generous of you, Officer,” he said, feeling again like some kind of actor in a bad American drama. He noticed the younger man relax a little, and he honestly bounced a little on the balls of his feet, like a teenager. Harold’s smile tightened.

“No, Officer. No trouble, no racing. You have my solemn word.” And he raised his hand a little from the steering wheel, as if he was swearing to it. “Can I carry on now? My wife will be worried if I don’t get home soon.” That was a lie, but a believable one. To the public, he and Lucy were happily married. Only Derek Malus seemed to have cottoned on that something wasn’t right.

"Yep. About a year." About as long as he'd been in Echo Springs, actually, but he didn't feel like sharing anymore personal details than he had to. Stiles had learned -- at some point, somewhere -- to keep his mouth shut on private information unless people were friends. And even with friends he was hesitant to share too much, if the topic was of an emotional variety. Not that this was.

You have my solemn word. If it wasn't about traffic violations Stiles wouldn't have believed those words from this man at all. He had a terrible inkling about him the more they talked, and his relaxation and bouncy feet slowly un-relaxed and un-bounced. He frowned at himself and his own usually strong and usually correct intuition, but quickly replaced it with a professional smile.

“It depends alot on the area, honestly,” Derek shrugged back

“I used to live in New York, it was alot more hectic and stressfull there, especially in the E.R., but it’s pretty quiet here most of the time, less gunshot wounds and more kitchen accidents, I’m not sure yet if I prefer it that way or not,”

Derek had felt so much more usefull in New York, saving lives rather than bandaging fingers, but he couldn’t deny that the stress he had suffered there had been monumental, compared to here where things were so much easier….

“A diplomat?” Derek asked in surprise

“That’s…. not someone you meet every day, and a politician too…. yeah, sounds like you did have a weird day,”

That was putting it mildly….

He gave a soft huff of laughter at the joke, lips ticking up

“I guess so, what made you want to be a cop then? It sounds almost as bad as nursing,”

He was teasing ofcourse, he… hoped that came through well enough….

“Coffee and an apple danish please,” he ordered when the waitress turned to him- because why not match?

I used to live in New York. That brought another pang of deja vu and Stiles had to shake his head to release it, send it back out into the atmosphere where it couldn't bother him anymore. Stuff could bother Stiles for ages if he let it and he was here to enjoy the company, not obsess over why everything about him seemed so familiar.

"New York, huh? Sounds like it'd be more hectic. Yeah, I enjoy being a cop here 'cause it's a little laid back." And it gave Stiles time to keep up with his Stiles Files, which were a set of notes Stiles would be obsessing over now after meeting Derek, all focused on where and when he felt deja vu and random details about the town and its layout and history.

"Yep, met a diplomat. It was..." He tried to consider the right word for it. "Odd as hell. The guy was overtly flirty."

And then on to why he chose to become a cop. "To help people, I guess. It's just always something I've wanted to do. Is it the same for you with nursing or were there other reasons?"

Stolas gave a laugh, short and sharp, like the call of a bird, his lips stretched into an amused grin, eyes sparkling

“Oh sweetheart, I could teach you the difference if you’d like,” he suggested, batting his lashes flirtatiously

Big talk, ofcourse, coming from someone who had only known he was gay for less than a year, but Stolas had had plenty of experiences in that amount of time, and he liked to think of himself as gifted when it came to romance

Plus he was just a big flirt

“Is that right? How interesting,” he mused, head tilting as he leaned against his palm

There was something that had drawn him to this town, he wasn’t sure what, he couldn’t remember, but the sound of someone having an experience like that, someone else who had a bit of a memory problem…. that was intriguing

“And your quasi-date, does he remember you?”

He wanted to ask if the officer thought his quasi-date would mind that they were flirting, but he decided to hold back on that for the moment

“Oh? Hm… are you not on the up-and-up of what’s popular for teenagers then?”

Oh, boy, this was was indeed a flirtatious creature. The more he flirted the more Stiles solidified in his mind how much he was looking forward to his date with Derek. Derek, who he may or may not remember. Derek, who he knew he remembered. There were no other explanations for the feelings the man gave him, that sense of finding someone lost.

Stiles came back to the conversation with a blink, smiling and shaking his head over a chuckle. His fingers fidget around his shirt pocket as if he was going to bring out a ticket book, but it really was just an idle fidget, because there was no reason to take it out. The same hand then went up and into his hair, messing up the already unsalvageable.

"Yeah, he remembers me. Somewhat. We both seem to remember each other but can't really remember how." And that was killing Stiles. That sense of uneasiness was what led to the Stiles Files in the first place, his collection of details about the town itself.

He looked nice

He looked nice

Derek’s face turned bright red, flushing from the depths of his cheeks to the tips of his ears, he had never exactly been good at taking compliments, and that trouble was only made worse when those compliments stemmed from the dating arena

“Thanks, you look nice too,”

Ok, that wasn’t awkward, that was good, good start

He settled in his chair, nodding a little shyly and trying not to fidget

He was always a little nervous, but he wasn’t usually this nervous, he wondered why…

Maybe Stiles just struck something in him that he didn’t usually feel with other dates, maybe it had something to do with the weird, nostalgic, deja vu type of a thing….

“Well, no one died, I’m a nurse so that’s usually a pretty good thing,”

Humor, good, Derek could do humor sometimes

“You? Did your day go alright?”

Stiles felt himself relax a little when he noticed, right at the end of it, that Derek was blushing. Stiles felt the corner of his mouth curve up in a small, shy smile of appreciation. This was definitely starting to feel like a real date here and Stiles was getting more comfortable considering it such.

He chuckled at Derek's joke about being a nurse, smiling and shaking his head. "A nurse, huh? What's that like?" He knew it was a difficult field to get into, which meant Derek was a) smart, b) hard working, and c) determined. All attributes that Stiles could get behind.

"My day was fine -- just a bit weird." He fiddled with his earlobe and bounced one knee slowly up and down. "I met a freakin' diplomat today." He laughed. "You never know who you're going to run into on a job like mine. Is it someone on coke? Or is it a politician that's going to mock you? You never know."

Oh, that was surprising

“I’m surprised you know about that, I always took local law enforcement to be simpletons,” he smiled with surprising sincerity

“No offense,” he added as an afterthought- he really didn’t mean to be a dick, it just came naturally to him

“And yes, I could still get expelled, but I highly doubt something like a traffic violation would do the trick,”

Especially considering the blackmail he had on some of the American politicians, he could probably get away with mass murder and no one would even question him

“And yes, is it working?” he grinned, eyelashes fluttering flirtatiously, after all, just because he didn’t have much respect for the man’s career, that didn’t mean Stolas didn’t find him attractive

“Oh? Weird in what way?”

Stoles was an undeniable lover of weird after all, and maybe a bit too curious for his own good, wich brought him to the realization he was beginning to have…

“Thank you… might I ask, how old are you? Nineteen?”

'I always took local law enforcement to be simpletons.' Well how charming. Stiles felt his patience begin to thin, squinting his eyes a little and furrowing his brow as he waited for the diplomat to finish insult/complimenting him. Insultimenting? Heh.

"No offense taken," he sighed, chewing on his bottom lip. "You're right, no traffic violation will touch you, I get it." He adjusted his walkie talkie at his shoulder then engaged it, calling back to dispatch. "Nevermind. It's a diplomat." The dispatch came back with 'roger' and that was that.

*Was* it working? Stiles shrugged. There was already someone he was interested in that he was meeting later that day, and while it'd be lucky as hell and an experience to check off the box to get a diplomat into his bed... But still. Now that they knew there was nothing he could do here, there was no harm in a little flirting, right? "Maybe. But I could just be itchy." Heh.

"Weird in that I've met so many people today. I've already dealt with a politician, and now a diplomat -- not to mention this guy I met earlier who I swear I know but I just can't remember how exactly I know him and it's driving me insane and I think it's a date or a not-date? A quasi-date? I don't know." The man shouldn't have asked. Stiles was a rambler.

*** “You mean you’re not going to arrest me?” Kara’s teeth chewed on her bottom lip nervously. “Or throw me in jail?” She thought she’d heard somewhere that that was a possibility, and she knew that trying to teach herself to drive like this was a silly idea anyways.

“You don’t have to take me home,” she said after a moment. She couldn’t think of anyone that would pick up her car off the top of her head. “If you take me to the station, I can get a cab after we call the tow truck.” Or maybe she could think of someone that could get her by that point. She thought about calling Jessica Jones, but she’d only ever seen the woman walk to work.

He couldn't believe she was asking him that question. Most people would have figured something out so they could book it out of there quickly. "Do you *want* me to?" he asked, raising an amused eyebrow, his lip curling in amusement. "Because I could do that, if that's what you're aiming for." He had no interest in arresting her today.

Taking her to the station sounded like as good an idea as any. "Alright then. Tow truck it is. You'll have to pay the fine." He reached up to engage his walkie talkie, informing the person on the other end that he was bringing her in but not for an arrest.

Oh great, the local police

Stolas couldn’t possibly care less what minor traffic law he was breaking, he was trying to get home in time to call Octavia before it got too much later in Italy and he couldn’t be bothered with local nonsense

Luckily all he had to do was mention that he was a diplomat and most law enforcement was smart enough to let him go with nothing more than the releif that he wouldn’t come for their badges

All the same, he thought it best to be charming and a bit flirtatious anyway, especially when noticing how cute the officer was

“Hello dear,” he smiled pleasantly upon rolling the window down, his diplomatic ID card already in his hand

“You look awfully young to be a policeman, I must be the first foreign diplomat you’ve ever pulled over,”

Actually Stolas was willing to bet he was the first person of any real import the officer had ever met, but, semantics

“Just in case you’re still new, what I’m presenting you with is my DIC- and no, that would not be my dick, although I wouldn’t be opposed to that- my Diplomatic Identification Card liberates me from… pretty much everything, including but not limited to theft, murder, and whatever minor traffic violation I’ve committed here, you’re welcome to take a look at it if you’d like, but I must be off in a hurry, I’m attempting to call my daughter before nightfall in Europe,”

Stiles stared at him, open-mouthed, in awe at the great big load of nonsense this man had just spilled all over him. Stiles instantly disliked him. Who went around introducing themselves as a diplomat?? What the fuck was going on with his DAY? Everywhere he turned there was some new person trying to have a longer pissing stream than the last.

He badly wanted to go home and take a nap.

"Can't you still get expelled though?" he asked, suddenly curious as he peered at the card, eyes squinting. Nothing he could do with diplomatic immunity without losing his job. "And-- are you *flirting* with me?" Flabberghasted.

Stiles sighed and put a hand on one hip, waving the other hand at him. "I don't even know at this point. Today's been so weird. You're free to go."

The kid repeated his name (though, more and more lately, it felt less like his name, and more like a title) and put his hand on his own waist. Harold looked down at his belt, and saw that Officer Stilinski was not armed. It was a surprise – he knew how much the Americans loved their guns. He raised his gaze back to the officer’s face, and sighed.

“Ah, repercussions,” he said. “Well, I can’t have you facing those, now, can I?” And he rolled his eyes, and leaned forwards to reach into his glove compartment. “I can see you’re serious, Officer,” he said, rifling through paperwork and old sweet wrappers and Lucy’s make-up, until he found his driving license and registration, which crumpled among the rubbish. He pulled it out, and handed it to the officer, through his open window. He even managed a smile. “Been doing this long?” he asked, to make conversation.

Stiles carried a gun, they all had to, but he hadn't wanted to approach *Mr. Saxon* with a gun. He didn't know the guy personally, but he knew a hell of a lot of politicians in his line of work and he hadn't liked not a one of them, knowing what they were capable of. Perfectly good cops losing their jobs over nitpicky things, politicians claiming to have felt threatened, threatening to pull funding for whatever the hell, etc.

Stiles loathed, l o a t h e d, the political side of his work with a firey passion.

He was *not* surprised that Mr. Saxon rolled his eyes. He pursed his lips and tapped his fingers against his hip to count to ten, to calm himself and to keep the petty side of himself from coming out. Because Stiles was tempted to roll his eyes right back at him or tell him his eyes were going to get stuck that way.

"Repercussions are the worst," he said instead. If Mr. Saxon was going to make the effort at small talk, Stiles would, too.

He accepted the papers and gave them a cursory glance. "Not that long. A year, maybe?" He frowned, not really able to remember.

Harold smiled a close-lipped smile at the kid, hoping that would be enough to get him off his back. “My speeding, huh?” he said, tapping his fingertips on the wheel of the car, feeling utterly ridiculous. “Well, that’s because I was trying to get home on time, officer. Long day at the office. You know how it is.” The fact that he was being told what to do by a kid who didn’t look over twenty was ridiculous.

He sighed theatrically, and leaned his elbow against the open window. “Look. Officer…” He trailed off, and squinted at the kid’s badge. “… Stilinski. You know who I am. I didn’t hurt anyone. I’ll go really slowly from now on, m’kay?” And he flashed the officer a smile. In truth, he didn’t want to go digging around for his license and registration. He wanted to get going, so he could crash at home and ignore Lucy.

*** She was pretty sure she could outrun him if she wanted to. (Kara had been a pretty good track and field athlete in high school.) But, Kara had no intentions of running, as much as she would like to flee out of embarrassment. “No running. Promise.” She gave him a thumbs up and a smile that looked more like a grimace. “My parents live in another state. I just… look younger than I am.” It always happened – Kara would be referred to as ‘girl’ instead of as a ‘woman’ and it irked her to no end.

Derek offered a smile, relieved to see Stiles already there so he wouldn’t have to put up with the anxiety of waiting for him, and made his way back to the booth, sliding in across from Stiles immediately

“Hey,”

…Well that was awkward and dull….

God, Derek felt like a teenager again, how did adults date? How did they greet eachother? Shit, when was the last time Derek even had a freind? He should have asked someone at the hospital for advice….

“Um, I’ve never eaten in before, I usually just… take things from here home… should I order at the counter or…? …Sorry, I’m jut… not sure how this works…”

That was the understatement of the century, he didn’t know how any of this worked, including how to interact with other human beings

Stiles immediately felt his nerves go into overdrive when Derek headed in his direction. Oh man, oh no! He wasn't prepared for this at all. Well, there was nothing to it but to do it, right? So Stiles steeled his nerves and prepared himself for a delightful conversation. Hopefully.

"Hey," he said back, just as awkwardly. Damnit, Stiles. Delightful! You are a delightful conversationalist! Now delight him!! "You look nice."

That was only something you said on a date -- Stiles still wasn't even sure if this was what that was. But Derek did look nice and so he told him so.

He started to relax some when Derek started to ramble a little with questions, realizing that maybe, juuust maybe, Derek was as nervous as he was, or at least equally lacked finesse in this arena of human behavior.

*** “Yeah, so that’s the thing…” Kara pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose as she frowned up at the cop. There was no getting out of this one. “I don’t have a license,” she said, admitting the truth and tucking her hair behind her ears, constantly fidgeting. “I’m trying to teach myself how to drive and as you can see… it’s not going so well.” Kara knew she should have practiced more in the parking lot or maybe she could have called up her adopted parents. She was sure one of them would have been happy to have an excuse to visit her in Echo Springs.

“See you,” Derek replied softly, taking the ticket and… kind of maybe…. treasuring it just a teeny tiny bit

It was silly, he felt like a teenager with a crush, like how he had felt with his first crush ever- Paige, his highschool sweetheart…

He hadn’t felt anything like this since then…..

He tried to shake it all out of his head and focus, God knows he needs to focus for his job, but all day his mind just kept wandering back to Stiles, back to that weird nostalgic feeling, the weird deja vu that he’d felt around him, it was like he was revisiting an old flame, even though he could swear that he had never actually met the cop before

He had never changed out of his scrubs so fast before, even tearing the shirt a little as he yanked it off and hurried back into his street clothes, suddenly self-concious, wishing he had worn something other than a plain henley and a pair of jeans to work, he probably should change but he was already running a bit late and getting to the bakery on time was a bit of a struggle, so there was no time to change

He couldn’t remember ever feeling this anxious about meeting anyone before, his hands were shaking a little as he stepped in, breath held, and looked around for the all too familiar face

Stiles couldn't remember a time where he'd felt so anxious.

Focusing on work for the rest of the day proved to be a struggle and a pure test of character that God had chosen to bestow upon him. Instead of having time to chill with the dispatch crew, it was call this, call that, call here, call where? Everywhere. Stiles spent all of his day running here and there and just trying to keep the town from falling apart over petty grievances, such as one woman who had backed up into a fire hydrant and blamed it on a pedestrian who had been innocently walking past.

But he took the time to change after work, at least, instead of showing up at the bakery in his cop's outfit. Pulling on a nice pair of black jeans, a simple graphic t-shirt, and a pair of converse, Stiles headed out of the station and into his patrol car.

He arrived on time, noticed Derek wasn't there yet, so took a seat in one of the booths where he jiggled his knee up and down nervously. It seemed like ages but was only minutes before Derek arrived and Stiles nearly fell out of the booth in his scramble to stand and wave.

Coffee and sweets hardly sounded like “one heck of an evening” to Derek, but spending more time with Stiles and scratching that… that mental itch he had going now, digging up a little more about this connection that was between them, that sounded like an evening and a half

“I’m looking forward to it,” he promised softly, feeling a bit of heat flush against his cheeks, it had been some time since that happened…

“Yes Officer, sorry about that,” he replied, flashing an all-too-charming smile and preparing to leave, when something suddenly occured to him

“Oh! Uh… can I get your phone number? You know… in case we miss eachother or something?”

He had learned his lesson years ago about planning to meet someone but not getting their contact information- he wouldn’t be making that mistake again any time soon