Far Too Many Firsts | Derek & Stiles
@blameshimself | bodyguard/First Son AU starter
“New recruits don’t usually start on a day like this,” said the man training Derek, his eyes on his smart phone instead of the new recruit.
No kidding, Derek thought. It shouldn’t be “usual” to start someone on the Secret Fucking Service the same day that the new president’s family moved into the White House. If Derek was running this operation, only the best agents would be on duty today. Even if he was just waiting in the foyer of the historic building, where no one could enter until they’d already been cleared through several more levels of security.
But the Service was undermanned. Rumor had it that the departing president -- Gerard Argent, a man whose ultraconservative and underhanded ways had lost him the re-election -- had hired many of them on to some kind of private security position. Derek doubted the man was in short supply of death threats.
“The President has arrived,” he heard over the earpiece uncomfortably wedged in his ear.
“They’re gonna take the POTUS right to the Oval,” Agent Bullock said next to him, still tapping at something on his phone. Derek already didn’t care for him much. “It’s gonna get crazy in here for a while, but you’re gonna watch the kid.”
If he didn’t know that “kid” was Noah Stilinski’s teenage son, he would’ve blanched; young kids were not his forte. Instead, his brow twitched; because teenagers were only a little less annoying. It was a sensible assignment for a new recruit. But that didn’t mean he had to be happy about it.
Agent Bullock seemed to enjoy his silent dismay. He looked up finally and smirked at the trainee. “You can handle a kid, can’t you?”
Thankfully, Derek didn’t have a chance to respond before the doors were opening, and people surged into the foyer. His eyes searched through the crowd, but he could barely keep track of what was going on as people made their way in different directions, all talking over one another -- but he caught sight of the boy towards the back of the group.
“Mr. Stilinski,” he greeted the young man after he maneuvered around two more quick-paced men in suits. “Agent Hale. I’ll be...” what? guarding? escorting? “...assigned to your detail for the evening.”
