Author's Note: I don't have any excuse. I just made the thing in class one day and found it in my notebook today. So now I get to subject you lot to it.
Title: Beauty and Grace
Rating: R? Big people use big people words.
Pairing: John/Melissa. Chris/Braeden.
Summary: “ They think I'm possessed because I'm not miserable?"
“ John.”
The eldest Argent hunter didn't exactly look pleased to see him. John doesn't take it personally. He's expecting bad news. Like, purple people eaters or something.
“ At ease, Argent,” John held up a hand while sliding into the booth across from him. “ I come in peace. No lizard people or men in the mirror.”
Chris relaxed somewhat. Or at least, what passes for relaxing for Chris Argent. “ Women.”
“ Excuse me?”
“ There are no men in the mirror. Only females haunt them. It has to do with vanity and beauty.”
John hated when he did that. He never knew when Chris was dead serious or just messing with him.
“ Is there something else going on?” Chris prompted him when he was taking oh-so-long just to order black coffee. i.e. stalling. “ You looked like something was on your mind when you sat down.”
Oh boy. How to go about this? “ Well. . . the kids wanted me t talk to you. Or rather, stalk you and make sure you weren't actually possessed.”
“ Possessed?” Ah. So that's what a confused Argent looked like. “ By what?”
“ It, uh. . . it varies. Kira and Stiles think another fox. Lydia figures a random ghost. Malia thinks you smell funny—different than you used to smell, that is. And Scott thinks you might be under a spell.”
That does absolutely nothing to clear up his confusion. “ And why do they think I'm possessed?”
“ They say. . . you're acting strangely.”
“ Define 'strangely', John.”
Yes. Right. Well. Okay. Just. . . repeat what they all told you John. “ Smiling. Cracking jokes. Being nice. Not waving the gun around as much. Stiles swears he heard you laugh.”
The look on the hunter's face now had to be the same look John had whenever someone was telling him about the supernatural. That look of total bullshit. “ You mean being happy.”
“ Well. . . ” The Sheriff stalled out while messing with his coffee cup. “ I wouldn't exactly. . . call it—yeah, I guess happy works.”
“ They think I'm possessed because I'm not miserable?"
“ Well when you say it like that—” John cut himself off and sighed. “ I promised my son I'd start believing him more no matter how ridiculous it sounded.”
He'd been at the table for less than ten minutes and already Chris looked sick of his shit. “ Tell him I'm not possessed. I am happy. And that's not a sign of the apocalypse as far as I know. I was happy before and the world didn't end.”
Well now John just felt like an asshole. “ Stiles means well. I think he just wanted to make sure you were okay. They all want to make sure that you're okay and that you genuinely are happy and something hasn't gotten to you.”
Chris made a noise of acknowledgment while he drank his own coffee. Or maybe he was just annoyed. “ I'm fine.”
John nodded. Then awkwardly sat there, trying to figure out the appropriate amount of time passing before he bombarded the hunter with more personal questions. If it wasn't possession, then what was it? What had finally brought Chris back to the land of the living. What had him in a diner of all places, drinking coffee in the daylight like a normal person?
It must have shown on his face. Chris sighed and put his cup down. “ Just ask me already.”
John was just about to do just that when suddenly his side of the booth was invaded. A curly haired nurse plopped onto the red cushion next to him. “ Melissa!”
“ John, Chris,” she looked like she'd run inside or something. She barely put her keys in her purse before addressing them. “ I'm not interrupting anything, am I?”
“ Well, actually,” John began.
“ Good,” Melissa promptly cut him off and focused on Chris. “ Are you possessed?”
This time the question caught the hunter right as he was drinking. Which resulted in him choking on hot caffeinated liquid. Immediately John stood up and clapped him on the back while Melissa darted around to his side of the table to encourage him to breathe properly. She even handed him water to drink.
“ Why. . .” He rasped while waving them away. “ Why does everybody keep asking me that?”
“ Well,” Melissa gave him some space, but lingered on his side of the booth just in case. “ It's just that the kids thought you've been acting strangely.”
John pulled off a pretty good impression of his son with the diner menu when Chris sent him a scathing look across the table. “ Define strangely.”
At this, the nurse had the decency to look a bit uncomfortable. “ Smiling. Cracking jokes. Being nice. Not—”
“ --waving the gun around so much.” Chris finished with her. “ Stiles again?”
“ Scott, actually,” Melissa clarified once she resettled on John's side of the booth. “ He's pretty sure he heard you laughing.”
“ Oh Jésus. . .”
While Chris looked like he was contemplating jumping out of the window next to them, John moved the menu in front of both he and Melissa and leaned over to whisper, “This is why you cancelled our lunch? I thought you had an errand to run!”
“ I did! This is the errand! If I'd known you were going to do the same thing, we could have just come together! You told me you had a meeting to go to!”
“ This is the meeting!”
“ You were going to handle this yourself?!” Melissa slapped her hand against the table in a show of frustration. “ Dammit, John, what if he had been possessed?!”
“ Me?!” John nearly dropped the menu in his incredulity. “ What about you? Breezing in and asking him to his face, as if he was going answer honestly! Nobody does that! Human criminals don't even do that unless they're stupid!”
“ Would you two like me to leave so you can argue about me properly?”
Both of them peeked over the menu to see a rather exasperated hunter. Then sheepishly lowered the menu to sit upright like actual adults.
“ Chris,” Melissa reached across the table to cover his hand with her's. “ You know we mean well. We could be a little more discreet about it,” She shot at the Sheriff at her side. “ But we just wanted to make sure nothing was wrong. We didn't actually believe you were possessed.”
“ Uh-huh.” Chris pushed the glass she'd given him earlier to the center of the table. “ You only gave me holy water to drink because that's healthier than the restaurant water, right?”
Melissa did a pretty good impression of her son too; straight up caught in a lie. “ W—Well, you never know what's in that water. How do you know it's holy water, anyway? It's just water. It doesn't have a taste.”
Chris gestured to her purse. “ I can see the flask you carry it in from here.”
Immediately, the purse was zipped shut. “ That's not the same flask.”
“ I gave you that flask, Melissa.”
Recognizing the effort as futile, the nurse huffed. “ You're the one that told me to always be prepared.”
Chris grunted and lifted his head to look above theirs. “ Is there anyone else planning on coming by and asking about my demonic status?”
“ No,” John waved his hands with an air of finality. “ Stiles and Scott know to leave you alone. We were handling this.”
“ Right,” Melissa nodded, the turned to John “ Did you ask him what it was yet?”
“ Well, I was right in the middle of that, sweetheart, when you made him choke on hot coffee.”
That earned the Sheriff a swat on the arm. “ That was an accident and you know it.”
“ Guys,” The rich timbre of Chris' voice killed their bickering before it truly got started. “ Just ask the question already. There's only so many hours in a day.”
Finally. John turned to face the hunter and leant forward to ask the question he'd been about to ask before Melissa arrived. “ So—”
“ —Who is she?” For all his preparation to get the question out, she did it again.
While John was busy looking annoyed and ordering an iced tea for Melissa, Chris was again confused. “ Who's who?”
“ You know who, Christopher.” There went the mom voice with the full name. Maybe it was a reflex for when she wanted to know the answer to something and the recipient wasn't forthcoming. “ Who's the lady that's got you smiling and laughing and terrifying our children?”
Chris looked like he might be about to answer. Or draw a gun on the both of them, John wasn't sure. Instead, he saw something behind them and nodded towards it. “ Behind you.”
Instantly, both John and Melissa whipped around to see this ethereal creature that seemed to charm the Argent so. The woman they saw was beautiful. (Well, of course she was, Chris had an eye for beauty.) Tall, but slender. Straight red hair. Blue eyes. Freckles. White painted nails, white sun dress accentuated with a thick silver chain (Melissa was willing to bet it was a present from Chris) and a shorter pendent necklace. She walked with an air of grace and beauty—
—right past their table entirely.
“ I don't think she saw you, Chris,” Melissa gestured towards the departing woman's back. And gave John a gentle elbow because we're done looking at her now, John, try blinking, dear.
Chris seemed to be completely ignorant of the redheaded woman in question. “ No, she sees me.”
Well, the woman wasn't turning around. Had they missed her? Both Melissa and John turned to look again. Just in time to catch a dark-skinned woman in a tanned leather jacket and jeans. An unfriendly looking curly haired brunette. Motorcycle boots tracked mud in the first few steps she'd taken into the restaurant. There was also the matter of three rather severe looking scars on the side of her face and neck.
Chris' lady must be directly behind that one.
Or so they thought, until she strode right up to the table and kissed the hunter right in front of them.
Not like a light, little romantic kiss either. John was pretty sure she just bit him before separating and sitting down on Chris' side of the booth. Only then did she take notice of the two of them on the other side. At which point, she gestured to them and turned to ask Chris, “ Who the fuck are they?”
John squinted at the both of them over there and leaned towards Melissa. “ Are we sure he's not possessed?”
That just earned him another swat in the arm while the nurse extended her hand towards the newcomer. “ Melissa McCall. We met once before in the hospital.”
It was taken in a firm grip. “ Braeden.”
“ Braeden?”
“ Just Braeden.”
Oooookay. John wasn't convinced. There was something really familiar about this woman. And it wasn't because she was somehow attached to Chris now. He'd seen her somewhere. Still, he wouldn't be rude about it. He extended his hand the same. “ John Stilinski.”
Braeden grunted, gave him a shake and released his hand. Then immediately occupied herself taking Chris' coffee and drinking it. Or well, she started to. After about a swallow in, she made a noise and put the cup down. “ What the hell, Argent? You call yourself French? That tastes like shit.”
“ That's because it's black coffee. And it's not for you.”
The woman made a noise of annoyance and folded her arms. Chris seemingly ignored the sour expression on her face to rest his arm on the booth behind her and plant a kiss on the side of her head. “ Yours is coming. I told the waitress not to bring it until you showed up.”
That seemed to settle her down a bit. “ Your coffee's still gross.”
There it was. The elusive sound of Chris Argent laughing. Both John and Melissa took notice of it and glanced at each other. The hunter seemed to be genuinely enjoying her presence. On the one hand, they could see how their sons would be concerned because they'd never seen the hunter get like this themselves. On the other, this coarse woman was responsible for it. Braeden seemed to be just barely tolerating him; at first glance, at least.
It was hard to tell from the angle they both were sitting at, but Melissa spied one of Braeden's hands holding the one Chris draped over her shoulders. She was the one interlocking their fingers. She was the one leaning into his side much like Melissa automatically did when she and John were sitting together.
Well. Hell. Stranger things happen in Beacon Hills. Constantly. Like a couple of werewolves fusing together like Voltron to chase after their sons and their sons friend—oh God.
“ That's where I know you from!” John pointed at Braeden. “ You were the one that cost the city $10,000 worth of property damage.”
Melissa covered her face with her hand and scooted away from him.
Chris did look a bit surprised at his statement. “ Just $10,000? What, were you sick?”
The only reaction Braeden gave to the whole thing was a swift elbow to the Argent's side as a glass of strawberry milk was delivered to the table. After that, she unwrapped a straw and ignored him to drink it.
John sighed. “ I don't even know why I'm surprised. That's totally your type.”
“ What's my type?” Chris frowned at him while rubbing his abused side. “ I don't have a type.”
“ You so do. Look at her,” he gestured to the woman browsing over the menu at Chris' left. “ She's terrifying, she's violent, she is beauty, she is grace, she will punch you in the face. That's your type.”
Chris made a noise of dismissal. But Braeden was smiling. “ I like this one. And I don't like any law enforcement.”
John supposes that's a compliment.
“ Anyway,” Melissa leaned forward to take one of Chris' and Braeden's hands each. “ We're happy that you're here to make Chris happy. No one deserves it more than he does. He's a really good man, and you're a lucky woman. But he's also our best friend, so take good care of him, all right?”
Braeden looked like she wanted to be anywhere except here. “ Yeah, whatever, I gotta pee.”
And then she was up and away from the table in an instant.
“ She's. . . not very good with. . .” Chris searched for the right word.
John tried to help him out. “ People?”
“ Emotions. Particularly the happier end of the spectrum. ”
John maintained that was totally his type.
“ So how did this happen, Chris?” Melissa released his hand and casually looked over the menu John was hoarding. “ You didn't say how you two met.”
“ I've been her arms dealer for a while. It sort of. . . progressed from there.”
“ Uh-huh,” John quipped without looking up. “ Just be careful while you're 'progressing'. You're not as young as you used to be.”
Chris grunted. “ Aren't you older than Melissa?”
“ Yeah, but not twenty years older.”
“ Thirteen, thanks very much.”
“ Big damn difference.”
“ Like the ten years between you two?”
John sputtered. “ Hey—look—this isn't about me. This is about me looking out for you and that cardio workout you're dating.”
Braeden returned from the ladies' room, and after giving Melissa a wary look, slid back into the booth and under Chris' arm. “ You guys still talking shit, or can we get food now?”
Melissa was actually inclined to agree with John. (Not out loud of course. He got to be right too many times in a day and he was damn hard to live with.) But Chris definitely had a type. And Braeden might not tick every box, but she ticks enough.
“ You haven't looked a menu once since we got here, Chris.” John nodded towards the untouched menu under the hunter's cup. “ Aren't you gonna eat anything?”
Chris was probably about to answer, but Braeden beat him to it. “ He doesn't eat diner food because he's a fucking snob.”
“ It just doesn't appeal to me, John.” Chris elaborated a little more politely.
“ That's what I said.” If that was some sort of cue for Braeden to follow suit, she certainly missed it. “ You're a fucking snob. If it's not perfect, you'll send it back ten thousand times until they get it right.”
“ Wanting good food doesn't make me a snob.” Chris moved his cup off the menu to show the price of the lunch special. “ For $6.99 I think I deserve that.”
“ It's a fucking diner, Argent. A fucking diner.”
“ Point still stands.”
Scratch that. Braeden ticks enough boxes and a few extra that aren't even listed.
