Pancakes and Murder (Teen Wolf, Stiles/Derek) 3b/4
Title: Pancakes and Murder (chapter three, part two)
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Stiles/Derek
The next day at school, while walking to his locker, Stiles spotted his dad talking to the principle. Scott wasn't around to ease drop for him, but he found out what they must have been discussing anyway when there was an announcement made during his last period about Grady's death. "There will be an assembly tomorrow during second period and a grief counselor on hand." The teacher's eyes narrowed. "That does not mean you can just skip class. You must notify your teacher first and bring back a pass from the counselor."
As soon as the bell rung Stiles rushed to Scott's locker. "You heard?"
Scott pulled out a couple books, throwing them in his bag. "About Grady? Yeah. Not that we didn't already know." Scott swung the locker door shut. He followed Stiles out to the parking lot while they talked.
"Yeah, but now everyone else knows too, including intrepid girl reporter Mandy Glossip. Of whom you have last period with, right?" Scott nodded but was apparently not taking Stiles' cue. "So? What was her reaction?"
"Oh, um." Scott bit his lip. "Not sure, exactly. She rushed out of class really fast."
"And you didn't go after her?" Stiles threw up his hands. It was like he was the only one who actually cared about finding out what happened. They stopped by the bike rack.
"Well there she is now." Scott pointed across the parking lot. "She looks... mad."
Stiles followed Scott's gaze. Sure enough, there was Mandy's short frame storming across the asphalt towards some kids hanging out around the back of a pickup truck. Stiles recognized them as the school's token emo/goth/potheads. A girl, wearing a black tank top and ripped jeans with red streaks in her dark hair, slid off the bed of the truck. Stiles' memory pinged and he realized she was the girl with Grady in the photo. She flung her cigarette aside as Mandy came to a halt before her. Mandy pointed a finger at her while yelling something that Stiles couldn't quite catch over the rumble of cars and students.
"What's she saying?"
Scott tilted his head. "She's saying something about 'it' being the other girl's fault." The girl in the black tank top crossed her arms. She stood a head taller than Mandy. "The other girl says she doesn't know what Mandy's talking about." Mandy lifted up her phone to the other girl's face showing her something on its screen. Whatever was on the screen got her attention and her arm swung out, knocking the phone from Mandy's hand. It went skidding across the ground. Mandy pushed the girl in retaliation. The other girl pushed back harder, forcing Mandy to stumble backwards and Stiles could see things were going to get ugly fast. Scott must have had the same thought because they were both running towards the girls at the same time. Scott got there first. He stopped in front of the girl in the tank top. Mandy tried to get around him, but Stiles pulled her back before her fist could make contact. Unfortunately said fist swung back instead, hitting Stiles on the head. Stiles lost his grip on her as his hands moved to clutch his head. Scott managed to stay between the two, keeping them apart.
Stiles was nearly doubled over as his head throbbed. While he blinked away watery eyes, he noticed the phone on the ground. With everyone else distracted by the fight, Stiles picked it up unnoticed. The screen had a couple scratches from its fall but Stiles could still read what was on it just fine. It was a text message from Grady. "Talked Al into going. Last chance to share byline?" Just below was Mandy's reply, "Not for all the Pulitzer’s in the world."
Stiles had no idea what it meant, but it was dated the day Grady died. The phone was suddenly snatched from his hands. He looked up to see Mandy, but she wasn't even looking at him. Her gaze was locked on the other girl. "This isn't over!" Shoving her phone into her purse, she stormed off. The girl in the tank top waved off her concerned friends and climbed into the driver’s seat of the truck.
Scott walked over to Stiles. "You okay, man?" He made a face as he glanced up at Stile's forehead. Stiles touched his temple and winced. He was already getting a bump. Great. Now he was going to have to explain to his dad that he got hit by a 5'1 girl.
"I would say that my dignity hurts worse, but I'm in too much pain."
Scott guided Stiles, who seemed to have lost some of his equilibrium, to his jeep. "Maybe I should drive you home?"
Stiles shook his head, which in hindsight wasn't such a great idea. Ow. "No, don't worry about it. You probably have another 'study' date with Allison to get to."
Scott looked sheepish. "I can cancel." And he meant it, which in itself made Stiles feel a little better.
Stiles leaned back against his jeep. "I'm fine. I just need a minute for the stabbing pain to let up and to stop seeing double."
Scott gave him a look. He then snatched the keys from Stiles' hand. "I'll text Allison that I'll be late."
As Scott drove him home, Stiles told him about the text that was on Mandy's phone.
"Do you think he was talking about going to Derek's?"
Stiles tapped his chin. "Maybe. I wonder who Al is."
"I heard Mandy call that girl she was fighting with 'Alexa'."
"Huh." Stiles stared at the dash board and his leg bounced restlessly as he thought. "So if Grady was meeting Alexa at the house that night, then she could have been the one to kill him." Stiles' eyes widened a bit. "Did you by any chance smell anything... wolf-like about her?"
Scott glared at Stiles from the corner of his eye. "You know that's not how it works. Werewolves smell almost the same as any human when we're not in wolf form. There's no way I could pick that up with so many other people around."
"So no weird vibes? No wolfy senses tingling at all?"
Scott scrunched his nose. "Her clothes did have kind of an acrid smell, but I think that was probably the pot and cigarette smoke."
"Okay, well, let's assume for a minute that there's nothing at all supernatural at work here. That it's your every day run of the mill murder. According to my dad, the motive for most murders is either love or money. Since we can probably exclude money..." The jeep came to a stop and Stiles was surprised to see they had arrived at his house. Scott offered to stay over until Stiles' dad came home, but after some convincing that Stiles wasn't going to lapse into some kind concussion induced coma, Scott took off happily to meet Allison.
It felt dumb sending Scott away, when Stiles had been complaining that they didn't get to hang out much anymore, but the throbbing in his head hadn't gone away and all he really wanted to do was crash in his bed and suffer in peace for a while.
* * *
Stiles trudged up the stairs to his room. He dropped his bag as he entered. He started towards his bed, but it was already, quite inconveniently, occupied. "You're here."
Derek looked up from the magazine in his lap. He sat cross-legged on the bed. He put the magazine aside and stretched his legs over the edge. His toes curled as his bare feet hit the floor. "Where else would I be." His irritated scowl changed when he looked at Stiles. Derek jumped up, grabbing Stiles by the shoulders. "What happened?" He tilted Stiles' head back. With Derek hovering over him so close (personal space was not a concept known to Derek) Stiles' eye line was level with Derek's mouth. It was a nice mouth. Good shape. Soft looking. Just a hint of white teeth flashed as Derek's warm breath brushed Stiles' face. Stiles wondered how Derek's lips would feel against his. Would his stubble scratch or feel good against Stiles' own smooth skin. Stiles licked his lips, then blinked as he realized what he was doing and decided regaining his personal space bubble was a good idea before Derek heard his racing heart or smelled his flaring hormones. Stiles batted Derek's hand away as it reached up to prod at the welt. He moved out of Derek's grasp and sat on his bed.
"There was a fight in the school parking lot-" The sentence was left hanging as Derek rushed out of the room. "Okay." Stiles scooted back on the bed, putting a pillow between his head and the wall. He was ready to close his eyes and give himself over to the relentless throbbing pain when Derek reappeared in front of him with a damp towel wrapped around some ice. Stiles stared at it dumbly. Derek grabbed his hand placing the icepack in it and moved both up to Stiles' temple. "It'll help with the swelling."
Derek sat on the bed next to Stiles. Stiles rested his eyes, letting the icepack do its work. After a few minutes Stiles heard Derek say, "Why were you fighting?"
Stiles opened his eyes to glare. "I wasn't." He started from the beginning, ending with his conversation with Scott on the way over. "...Jealousy! That had to be it. Grady going out with Alexa sent Mandy into a jealous rage, she followed him out to the Hale house and-"
"Snapped his neck?" Derek said dubiously.
Stiles tried to picture Mandy standing on her toes in order to reach and grab the much taller Grady's head. "She brought a step stool with her? And is hugely stronger than she looks?" Stiles slumped. "I've got nothing. But she was totally acting weird when she caught Scott and me near Grady's computer."
"What about Alexa?"
"She's scary enough looking. And probably tougher. But what's the motive?"
"Does there have to be a motive?"
"Well Derek, normally when one person murders another there are reasons behind it. Usually stupid reasons, but-"
"No. I meant the why doesn't matter, if you know the who."
"I think its Mandy. But I don't know how to know for certain."
"I do." Derek waited for Stiles to look at him. Stiles raised a brow expectantly. "We ask her." Stiles was about to say something snarky, but Derek cut him off. "We ask her and I can listen to her heart beat to tell if she's lying."
"Oh my god!" It was so simple. Why hadn't Stiles thought of it? "That's right. You're like a human lie detector. We could have this wrapped up by tomorrow afternoon and have you back in your own place before dinner time." Stiles felt a weight lifting off his shoulders. They could have this thing solved. His dad wouldn't have to work another late night and Stiles could go back to worrying about mundane things like homework, lacrosse, and full moons.
"Unless of course she didn't do it."
Stiles’ newly uplifted mood deflated. He set the icepack down and shook his head. "No. She did it. She had to do it."
"Why is this so important to you?" Derek stared at Stiles with honest curiosity. When Stiles took too long to answer his brow furrowed. "Do you really want me back in my house that badly?"
Yes, because Stiles was tired of walking around with his stomach in knots. And no, because it’s Derek. And as nervous as he made Stiles feel, Stiles knew that with him around he was safe. His dad was safe. Because Derek was an alpha. And for whatever reason, Stiles slept better knowing Derek was near. The nightmares that had haunted him since Lydia was attacked and Peter had kidnapped him didn't dare touch him.
"You know," Derek continued, "It's not like last time. I'm not being hunted. I can go somewhere else." Derek started to move off the bed.
Stiles grabbed his arm. "Don't." Derek looked down at the hand gripping his shirt sleeve. Stiles let go. "Don't go." He looked away, unable to put his reasons into words.
"Okay."
Stiles looked up in surprise. Derek was smirking as he settled back down on the bed. Stiles didn't trust that smirk.
"How's your head?" Derek asked innocently.
"Better, I think. How does it look?"
Derek looked at him thoughtfully. "Come here."
Stiles leaned forward for Derek to get a better look. Derek gently ran his hand across Stiles' temple. Stiles' skin tingled where he touched, but not in a painful way. His hand moved down, skimming lightly over his cheek to his neck. Stiles tilted his head back to catch Derek’s gaze. A question was lost, before it was even fully formed, when he felt Derek’s hot breath against his lips. It was sudden, like a car crash, Stiles had no time to process what was happening until Derek's lips were on his. Even then Stiles wasn't entirely certain Derek hadn't just slipped and their lips collided in a freak accident. But Derek wasn't jumping away. In fact Derek was pressing harder. Then he was nipping and sucking and, yes, Stiles thought, this was definitely a kiss.
Stiles' hands flailed a bit before they found purchase on Derek's shoulders. And wow. Stiles was touching Derek without the death glare of doom. Or, well, he could have been giving Stiles the death glare of doom, but his eyes were closed so he couldn’t tell. Didn't care. Stiles moved his hands, because the touching felt good and he wanted to feel more. He moved his hands down Derek's back, fingers curling in as he went, which would have probably left scratch marks if his fingernails hadn't been so short. He found the hem of Derek's shirt and hiked it up so that his hands could roam a little more freely against Derek's skin. Derek was hot all over; his skin, his mouth... was that a werewolf thing? Or just a Derek thing? Either way it felt really good.
Derek moved from Stiles’ lips to his neck. Stiles smothered the urge to giggle. Apparently he was ticklish there. Thankfully Derek moved up to nibble and lick at his ear and wow, Stiles had never really gotten the whole ear/tongue thing, but now he did.
Derek paused a moment and then whispered in Stiles’ ear. “Your dad is home.”
“What?” Stiles gasped somewhat incoherently as his brain refused to compute while his body was in overload.
Derek leaned back. He looked pained. "Your dad is home."
In his mind, Stiles heard a voice scream, ‘Nooooooo!’
* * *
Next.
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Stiles/Derek
The next day at school, while walking to his locker, Stiles spotted his dad talking to the principle. Scott wasn't around to ease drop for him, but he found out what they must have been discussing anyway when there was an announcement made during his last period about Grady's death. "There will be an assembly tomorrow during second period and a grief counselor on hand." The teacher's eyes narrowed. "That does not mean you can just skip class. You must notify your teacher first and bring back a pass from the counselor."
As soon as the bell rung Stiles rushed to Scott's locker. "You heard?"
Scott pulled out a couple books, throwing them in his bag. "About Grady? Yeah. Not that we didn't already know." Scott swung the locker door shut. He followed Stiles out to the parking lot while they talked.
"Yeah, but now everyone else knows too, including intrepid girl reporter Mandy Glossip. Of whom you have last period with, right?" Scott nodded but was apparently not taking Stiles' cue. "So? What was her reaction?"
"Oh, um." Scott bit his lip. "Not sure, exactly. She rushed out of class really fast."
"And you didn't go after her?" Stiles threw up his hands. It was like he was the only one who actually cared about finding out what happened. They stopped by the bike rack.
"Well there she is now." Scott pointed across the parking lot. "She looks... mad."
Stiles followed Scott's gaze. Sure enough, there was Mandy's short frame storming across the asphalt towards some kids hanging out around the back of a pickup truck. Stiles recognized them as the school's token emo/goth/potheads. A girl, wearing a black tank top and ripped jeans with red streaks in her dark hair, slid off the bed of the truck. Stiles' memory pinged and he realized she was the girl with Grady in the photo. She flung her cigarette aside as Mandy came to a halt before her. Mandy pointed a finger at her while yelling something that Stiles couldn't quite catch over the rumble of cars and students.
"What's she saying?"
Scott tilted his head. "She's saying something about 'it' being the other girl's fault." The girl in the black tank top crossed her arms. She stood a head taller than Mandy. "The other girl says she doesn't know what Mandy's talking about." Mandy lifted up her phone to the other girl's face showing her something on its screen. Whatever was on the screen got her attention and her arm swung out, knocking the phone from Mandy's hand. It went skidding across the ground. Mandy pushed the girl in retaliation. The other girl pushed back harder, forcing Mandy to stumble backwards and Stiles could see things were going to get ugly fast. Scott must have had the same thought because they were both running towards the girls at the same time. Scott got there first. He stopped in front of the girl in the tank top. Mandy tried to get around him, but Stiles pulled her back before her fist could make contact. Unfortunately said fist swung back instead, hitting Stiles on the head. Stiles lost his grip on her as his hands moved to clutch his head. Scott managed to stay between the two, keeping them apart.
Stiles was nearly doubled over as his head throbbed. While he blinked away watery eyes, he noticed the phone on the ground. With everyone else distracted by the fight, Stiles picked it up unnoticed. The screen had a couple scratches from its fall but Stiles could still read what was on it just fine. It was a text message from Grady. "Talked Al into going. Last chance to share byline?" Just below was Mandy's reply, "Not for all the Pulitzer’s in the world."
Stiles had no idea what it meant, but it was dated the day Grady died. The phone was suddenly snatched from his hands. He looked up to see Mandy, but she wasn't even looking at him. Her gaze was locked on the other girl. "This isn't over!" Shoving her phone into her purse, she stormed off. The girl in the tank top waved off her concerned friends and climbed into the driver’s seat of the truck.
Scott walked over to Stiles. "You okay, man?" He made a face as he glanced up at Stile's forehead. Stiles touched his temple and winced. He was already getting a bump. Great. Now he was going to have to explain to his dad that he got hit by a 5'1 girl.
"I would say that my dignity hurts worse, but I'm in too much pain."
Scott guided Stiles, who seemed to have lost some of his equilibrium, to his jeep. "Maybe I should drive you home?"
Stiles shook his head, which in hindsight wasn't such a great idea. Ow. "No, don't worry about it. You probably have another 'study' date with Allison to get to."
Scott looked sheepish. "I can cancel." And he meant it, which in itself made Stiles feel a little better.
Stiles leaned back against his jeep. "I'm fine. I just need a minute for the stabbing pain to let up and to stop seeing double."
Scott gave him a look. He then snatched the keys from Stiles' hand. "I'll text Allison that I'll be late."
As Scott drove him home, Stiles told him about the text that was on Mandy's phone.
"Do you think he was talking about going to Derek's?"
Stiles tapped his chin. "Maybe. I wonder who Al is."
"I heard Mandy call that girl she was fighting with 'Alexa'."
"Huh." Stiles stared at the dash board and his leg bounced restlessly as he thought. "So if Grady was meeting Alexa at the house that night, then she could have been the one to kill him." Stiles' eyes widened a bit. "Did you by any chance smell anything... wolf-like about her?"
Scott glared at Stiles from the corner of his eye. "You know that's not how it works. Werewolves smell almost the same as any human when we're not in wolf form. There's no way I could pick that up with so many other people around."
"So no weird vibes? No wolfy senses tingling at all?"
Scott scrunched his nose. "Her clothes did have kind of an acrid smell, but I think that was probably the pot and cigarette smoke."
"Okay, well, let's assume for a minute that there's nothing at all supernatural at work here. That it's your every day run of the mill murder. According to my dad, the motive for most murders is either love or money. Since we can probably exclude money..." The jeep came to a stop and Stiles was surprised to see they had arrived at his house. Scott offered to stay over until Stiles' dad came home, but after some convincing that Stiles wasn't going to lapse into some kind concussion induced coma, Scott took off happily to meet Allison.
It felt dumb sending Scott away, when Stiles had been complaining that they didn't get to hang out much anymore, but the throbbing in his head hadn't gone away and all he really wanted to do was crash in his bed and suffer in peace for a while.
* * *
Stiles trudged up the stairs to his room. He dropped his bag as he entered. He started towards his bed, but it was already, quite inconveniently, occupied. "You're here."
Derek looked up from the magazine in his lap. He sat cross-legged on the bed. He put the magazine aside and stretched his legs over the edge. His toes curled as his bare feet hit the floor. "Where else would I be." His irritated scowl changed when he looked at Stiles. Derek jumped up, grabbing Stiles by the shoulders. "What happened?" He tilted Stiles' head back. With Derek hovering over him so close (personal space was not a concept known to Derek) Stiles' eye line was level with Derek's mouth. It was a nice mouth. Good shape. Soft looking. Just a hint of white teeth flashed as Derek's warm breath brushed Stiles' face. Stiles wondered how Derek's lips would feel against his. Would his stubble scratch or feel good against Stiles' own smooth skin. Stiles licked his lips, then blinked as he realized what he was doing and decided regaining his personal space bubble was a good idea before Derek heard his racing heart or smelled his flaring hormones. Stiles batted Derek's hand away as it reached up to prod at the welt. He moved out of Derek's grasp and sat on his bed.
"There was a fight in the school parking lot-" The sentence was left hanging as Derek rushed out of the room. "Okay." Stiles scooted back on the bed, putting a pillow between his head and the wall. He was ready to close his eyes and give himself over to the relentless throbbing pain when Derek reappeared in front of him with a damp towel wrapped around some ice. Stiles stared at it dumbly. Derek grabbed his hand placing the icepack in it and moved both up to Stiles' temple. "It'll help with the swelling."
Derek sat on the bed next to Stiles. Stiles rested his eyes, letting the icepack do its work. After a few minutes Stiles heard Derek say, "Why were you fighting?"
Stiles opened his eyes to glare. "I wasn't." He started from the beginning, ending with his conversation with Scott on the way over. "...Jealousy! That had to be it. Grady going out with Alexa sent Mandy into a jealous rage, she followed him out to the Hale house and-"
"Snapped his neck?" Derek said dubiously.
Stiles tried to picture Mandy standing on her toes in order to reach and grab the much taller Grady's head. "She brought a step stool with her? And is hugely stronger than she looks?" Stiles slumped. "I've got nothing. But she was totally acting weird when she caught Scott and me near Grady's computer."
"What about Alexa?"
"She's scary enough looking. And probably tougher. But what's the motive?"
"Does there have to be a motive?"
"Well Derek, normally when one person murders another there are reasons behind it. Usually stupid reasons, but-"
"No. I meant the why doesn't matter, if you know the who."
"I think its Mandy. But I don't know how to know for certain."
"I do." Derek waited for Stiles to look at him. Stiles raised a brow expectantly. "We ask her." Stiles was about to say something snarky, but Derek cut him off. "We ask her and I can listen to her heart beat to tell if she's lying."
"Oh my god!" It was so simple. Why hadn't Stiles thought of it? "That's right. You're like a human lie detector. We could have this wrapped up by tomorrow afternoon and have you back in your own place before dinner time." Stiles felt a weight lifting off his shoulders. They could have this thing solved. His dad wouldn't have to work another late night and Stiles could go back to worrying about mundane things like homework, lacrosse, and full moons.
"Unless of course she didn't do it."
Stiles’ newly uplifted mood deflated. He set the icepack down and shook his head. "No. She did it. She had to do it."
"Why is this so important to you?" Derek stared at Stiles with honest curiosity. When Stiles took too long to answer his brow furrowed. "Do you really want me back in my house that badly?"
Yes, because Stiles was tired of walking around with his stomach in knots. And no, because it’s Derek. And as nervous as he made Stiles feel, Stiles knew that with him around he was safe. His dad was safe. Because Derek was an alpha. And for whatever reason, Stiles slept better knowing Derek was near. The nightmares that had haunted him since Lydia was attacked and Peter had kidnapped him didn't dare touch him.
"You know," Derek continued, "It's not like last time. I'm not being hunted. I can go somewhere else." Derek started to move off the bed.
Stiles grabbed his arm. "Don't." Derek looked down at the hand gripping his shirt sleeve. Stiles let go. "Don't go." He looked away, unable to put his reasons into words.
"Okay."
Stiles looked up in surprise. Derek was smirking as he settled back down on the bed. Stiles didn't trust that smirk.
"How's your head?" Derek asked innocently.
"Better, I think. How does it look?"
Derek looked at him thoughtfully. "Come here."
Stiles leaned forward for Derek to get a better look. Derek gently ran his hand across Stiles' temple. Stiles' skin tingled where he touched, but not in a painful way. His hand moved down, skimming lightly over his cheek to his neck. Stiles tilted his head back to catch Derek’s gaze. A question was lost, before it was even fully formed, when he felt Derek’s hot breath against his lips. It was sudden, like a car crash, Stiles had no time to process what was happening until Derek's lips were on his. Even then Stiles wasn't entirely certain Derek hadn't just slipped and their lips collided in a freak accident. But Derek wasn't jumping away. In fact Derek was pressing harder. Then he was nipping and sucking and, yes, Stiles thought, this was definitely a kiss.
Stiles' hands flailed a bit before they found purchase on Derek's shoulders. And wow. Stiles was touching Derek without the death glare of doom. Or, well, he could have been giving Stiles the death glare of doom, but his eyes were closed so he couldn’t tell. Didn't care. Stiles moved his hands, because the touching felt good and he wanted to feel more. He moved his hands down Derek's back, fingers curling in as he went, which would have probably left scratch marks if his fingernails hadn't been so short. He found the hem of Derek's shirt and hiked it up so that his hands could roam a little more freely against Derek's skin. Derek was hot all over; his skin, his mouth... was that a werewolf thing? Or just a Derek thing? Either way it felt really good.
Derek moved from Stiles’ lips to his neck. Stiles smothered the urge to giggle. Apparently he was ticklish there. Thankfully Derek moved up to nibble and lick at his ear and wow, Stiles had never really gotten the whole ear/tongue thing, but now he did.
Derek paused a moment and then whispered in Stiles’ ear. “Your dad is home.”
“What?” Stiles gasped somewhat incoherently as his brain refused to compute while his body was in overload.
Derek leaned back. He looked pained. "Your dad is home."
In his mind, Stiles heard a voice scream, ‘Nooooooo!’
* * *
Next.