This is part of a series for #sterekvalentineweek - I would suggest reading them in order.
What you can generally expect - hilarity, chaos, mishaps, slow burn, strong language, and vague descriptions of some minor criminal activity.
I hope you have as much fun on this adventure as I did!
Day 1 Day 2 Day 3 Day 4 Day 5 Day 6
As was usual, Stiles and Kira were having lunch at the station with Stiles’ father. It had been a relatively calm week, and the Friday lunch seemed like a good way to celebrate the lack of dumpster fires, disasters, general chaos, or major arrests or accidents. Stiles was especially proud of the last part, considering the previous week’s rosebush debacle. He still hadn’t quite forgiven Jackson for that one.
Of course, just as Stiles was thinking that things were going well, Derek and Jordan came into the station, both of them carting a person with them. By the way the people - a man and a woman - were stumbling, it looked like they were both heavily intoxicated. Which was impressive for 11:30 in the morning on a Friday.
“Deputy Hale?” Noah called, getting up from his office chair and walking towards Derek’s desk.
“We got a call from Chris down at Arrowhead. Allison was having some issues with a couple of customers who didn’t take kindly to being cut off. At eleven in the morning.”
“Dude, you’re ruining the honeymoon!” the man lamented as he was being forcibly sat in the chair beside Derek’s desk.
“Yeah! We were - hic - celebrating!” the woman chimed in from Jordan’s desk.
Stiles took a closer look at the man, and then frantically grabbed for his phone from the front pocket of his jeans. With quick fingers, he logged into the encrypted cloud that kept his casefiles and pertinent business documents, scrolling until he found what he was looking for.
“Kira. Kira, it’s him,” he said, flailing his hand out to get her attention. When she finally looked, he showed her his phone.
“Oh. Oh my god,” she exclaimed, grabbing onto Stiles’ arm with sheer excitement.
“Son?” Noah gave him a quizzical glance.
“Remember that case I was telling you about? The one I was working on with a few other investigators up north?”
“Yes. What does that have to do with this?”
“Well. Deputy Hale here just arrested the guy.”
“Did he now.” Stiles grinned, watching the guy look between them all, confusion written all over his face.
“Oh yeah. This is gonna be my major payday!”
“You want to start explaining what the hell you’re taling about, Stiles?” Derke asked testily.
“Gladly! This dickhead is currently married to six other women - oh yeah buddy, we are absolutely bringing you back to Oregon to face that down - and I was asked by some connections of mine to keep an eye out, as they heard he might have been headed this way. And what do you know! He choose our sweet little town to marry wife number seven!”
Stiles was on a roll. Which was the only explanation for what came out of his mouth next. “And actually, if this guy can get away with being married to seven women - which you so did not, ya dickhead - then I can absolutely ask Derek Hale out on a date!” The resulting silence was when Stiles realized what he’d said out loud.
Derek shrugged, looking pleased. “Sure. I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“Oh my god, I did not mean- wait. What?”
“Stiles. You have not been subtle. At all. I’ve been waiting for you to just grow a pair and ask me out.”
“I. You. Huh?” Stiles blinked a few times. This could not be happening.
“Wait. Does this mean Erica wins the pot?” Kira piped up, still clutching at Stiles.
“What pot?” he asked her, turning his head towards her so abruptly even Jordan could hear his neck crack from across the station.
“Oh, we had a bet on how long it would take you to ask Derek out.”
“Peter actually bet that Derek would have to make the first move,” Noah said, smirking slightly.
“What the fuck,” Stiles muttered.
“Language!” Kira, Noah, Jordan, and Derek said in unison.
“Okay! First of all, betting on my love life was low!” Stiles shot everyone in the room a small glare. “Second of all, if there was ever a situation in which I could use strong fucking language, this is fucking it.” Then he turned to Derek, and flailed a hand at him. “And third! You! You knew, this whole time, that I have wanted you, and you let me make a fool of myself?” Derek shrugged again.
“I knew you’d get your shit together eventually.”
“Okay, one, rude. Two, get over here and kiss me right now before I reconsider.” Derek did not need to be told twice before doing exactly as Stiles told him to.