Ficlet: a real one || PG-13 || Stiles/Derek
Author: marishna
Title:a real one
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/s: Stiles/Derek
Character/s: Sheriff Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale
Summary:
"Stiles? What's wrong?"
"Uh…" Stiles' voice trailed off on the other side of the line and it was all John could do not to let his mind immediately jump to the worst possible scenario.
Warnings: None
Content Notes: future!fic, St. Patrick's Day, John POV
Submission Type: Ficlet
Word Count: 990-ish
Prompt:215 - lawyer
The Sheriff's cheery, jangly ringtone sounded shrill in the dark silence of 3 a.m.
John rolled over and fumbled for the switch on the lamp before answering his cell phone with a hoarse, "hello?"
"Dad?"
John immediately swung his legs over the side of his bed and sat up straight. "Stiles? What's wrong?"
"Uh..." Stiles' voice trailed off on the other side of the line and it was all John could do not to let his mind immediately jump to the worst possible scenario.
"What do I need to do? I'll call Scott and Derek, what do they need to know? Can you tell me anything about where you are?" John asked quickly as he got up and fumbled for his pants that he threw over the back of a chair earlier in the night.
"Whoa, dad," Stiles replied with a snort. "It's not … that dire. Um, the St. Patrick's day party I was at got a little out of hand. Can you come bail me out?"
John stopped in his tracks with his arms hanging awkwardly, mid-shrug as he tried to get his shirt on while holding the phone between his shoulder and ear. He was torn between collapsing in relief and demanding to know what the hell happened from Stiles.
Instead, he sighed. "Where are you?"
"Beacon Valley station," Stiles replied with a hint of embarrassment in his tone.
"Do you need a lawyer?"
"No. The cops are just being… cops."
"Are you okay?" John asked, giving into his parental instincts.
"Yeah, until the hangover kicks in."
"Do you deserve it?"
There was a moment of silence from Stiles. "Probably."
"Uh-huh," John replied flatly. "Hang tight, I'll be there in an hour."
"Thanks, Dad. Oh, and please don't tell Derek until I can talk to him?"
John was puzzled but agreed. They hung up and John busied himself with getting ready, then he was out the door to his car within minutes. He got in and turned the engine over; the lights came on automatically, illuminating a hulking Derek Hale standing in front of him. John cursed and jumped while Derek walked to his driver's window. John gave him an exasperated look as he rolled it down.
"It's Stiles, isn't it?" Derek asked by way of a proper greeting.
"He's fine," John replied with a handwave. "Got himself into some trouble the next town over so I'm going to pick him up at the station there."
Derek's face froze, then settled into a harder look. "I'm coming with you." John didn't have a chance to say it wasn't necessary before Derek was crossing the front of the vehicle and hopping into the passenger seat. The look on Derek's face indicated JOhn wouldn't have been successful even if he'd been able to say anything.
Derek returned to Beacon Hills the summer between Stiles' junior and senior year of college and was a different person. He was still quiet but he moved like a man who was no longer haunted by the demons from his past.
He was around the Stilinski house more often than not, working with Stiles to secure the Nematon primarily, but also for whatever else the pack needed. Most nights John went to bed with Stiles and Derek pouring over books and notes at the kitchen table and when he got up in the morning one chair was always still warm.
The ride was quiet while John concentrated on driving and Derek stared out the window moodily, one hand worrying the fray in the knee of his jeans into a small hole. As soon as they pulled into the parking lot of the Beacon Valley station Derek was out of the car and waiting for John to catch up.
They were buzzed into the station once John showed his own credentials. Derek paced in the hall a way that reminded John of how he used to act after Laura died. He was about to politely suggest Derek try to calm himself down when Stiles was escorted from the holding cells. John pulled a sheepish-looking Stiles into his arms and hugged him tightly.
"You may be too old to ground but don't think you're not going to hear about this," John said quietly. Stiles nodded and huffed a out a relieved laugh.
"Sheriff Stilinski? Stiles is free to go but while you're can we talk to you for a second about a case we're working on?" A deputy asked from behind them.
"Of course. Stiles, can you stay out of trouble for a minute?"
Stiles rolled his eyes but nodded. As soon as John stepped away the door to the hall opened and Stiles' groan told him Derek walked in.
"You weren't supposed to hear about this until I could tell you," Stiles told Derek.
"Are you okay?" Derek asked gruffly.
"My pride's seen better days and Scott's gonna laugh for years about this," Stiles replied ruefully.
"Good," Derek replied, but there was a smile in his voice.
John pulled his attention back to the deputy reviewing case notes with him while Stiles and Derek spoke in hushed tones. At one point John looked over and noticed for the first time how close his son and Derek were standing. The tilt of their heads toward each other as they spoke, the flush on Stiles' cheeks, and how Derek's hand lingered on Stiles' arm when he seemed to randomly reach out--it all slapped John in the face suddenly.
"Huh," he said aloud, interrupting the deputy.
"You think of something?" the deputy asked excitedly, thinking John was reacting to the case they were discussing.
John shook his head. "Sorry, I, uh... just realized I should be looking at it a different way."
The deputy looked confused but didn't say anything as John followed his son and his boyfriend out of the station.
Title:a real one
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/s: Stiles/Derek
Character/s: Sheriff Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale
Summary:
"Stiles? What's wrong?"
"Uh…" Stiles' voice trailed off on the other side of the line and it was all John could do not to let his mind immediately jump to the worst possible scenario.
Warnings: None
Content Notes: future!fic, St. Patrick's Day, John POV
Submission Type: Ficlet
Word Count: 990-ish
Prompt:215 - lawyer
The Sheriff's cheery, jangly ringtone sounded shrill in the dark silence of 3 a.m.
John rolled over and fumbled for the switch on the lamp before answering his cell phone with a hoarse, "hello?"
"Dad?"
John immediately swung his legs over the side of his bed and sat up straight. "Stiles? What's wrong?"
"Uh..." Stiles' voice trailed off on the other side of the line and it was all John could do not to let his mind immediately jump to the worst possible scenario.
"What do I need to do? I'll call Scott and Derek, what do they need to know? Can you tell me anything about where you are?" John asked quickly as he got up and fumbled for his pants that he threw over the back of a chair earlier in the night.
"Whoa, dad," Stiles replied with a snort. "It's not … that dire. Um, the St. Patrick's day party I was at got a little out of hand. Can you come bail me out?"
John stopped in his tracks with his arms hanging awkwardly, mid-shrug as he tried to get his shirt on while holding the phone between his shoulder and ear. He was torn between collapsing in relief and demanding to know what the hell happened from Stiles.
Instead, he sighed. "Where are you?"
"Beacon Valley station," Stiles replied with a hint of embarrassment in his tone.
"Do you need a lawyer?"
"No. The cops are just being… cops."
"Are you okay?" John asked, giving into his parental instincts.
"Yeah, until the hangover kicks in."
"Do you deserve it?"
There was a moment of silence from Stiles. "Probably."
"Uh-huh," John replied flatly. "Hang tight, I'll be there in an hour."
"Thanks, Dad. Oh, and please don't tell Derek until I can talk to him?"
John was puzzled but agreed. They hung up and John busied himself with getting ready, then he was out the door to his car within minutes. He got in and turned the engine over; the lights came on automatically, illuminating a hulking Derek Hale standing in front of him. John cursed and jumped while Derek walked to his driver's window. John gave him an exasperated look as he rolled it down.
"It's Stiles, isn't it?" Derek asked by way of a proper greeting.
"He's fine," John replied with a handwave. "Got himself into some trouble the next town over so I'm going to pick him up at the station there."
Derek's face froze, then settled into a harder look. "I'm coming with you." John didn't have a chance to say it wasn't necessary before Derek was crossing the front of the vehicle and hopping into the passenger seat. The look on Derek's face indicated JOhn wouldn't have been successful even if he'd been able to say anything.
Derek returned to Beacon Hills the summer between Stiles' junior and senior year of college and was a different person. He was still quiet but he moved like a man who was no longer haunted by the demons from his past.
He was around the Stilinski house more often than not, working with Stiles to secure the Nematon primarily, but also for whatever else the pack needed. Most nights John went to bed with Stiles and Derek pouring over books and notes at the kitchen table and when he got up in the morning one chair was always still warm.
The ride was quiet while John concentrated on driving and Derek stared out the window moodily, one hand worrying the fray in the knee of his jeans into a small hole. As soon as they pulled into the parking lot of the Beacon Valley station Derek was out of the car and waiting for John to catch up.
They were buzzed into the station once John showed his own credentials. Derek paced in the hall a way that reminded John of how he used to act after Laura died. He was about to politely suggest Derek try to calm himself down when Stiles was escorted from the holding cells. John pulled a sheepish-looking Stiles into his arms and hugged him tightly.
"You may be too old to ground but don't think you're not going to hear about this," John said quietly. Stiles nodded and huffed a out a relieved laugh.
"Sheriff Stilinski? Stiles is free to go but while you're can we talk to you for a second about a case we're working on?" A deputy asked from behind them.
"Of course. Stiles, can you stay out of trouble for a minute?"
Stiles rolled his eyes but nodded. As soon as John stepped away the door to the hall opened and Stiles' groan told him Derek walked in.
"You weren't supposed to hear about this until I could tell you," Stiles told Derek.
"Are you okay?" Derek asked gruffly.
"My pride's seen better days and Scott's gonna laugh for years about this," Stiles replied ruefully.
"Good," Derek replied, but there was a smile in his voice.
John pulled his attention back to the deputy reviewing case notes with him while Stiles and Derek spoke in hushed tones. At one point John looked over and noticed for the first time how close his son and Derek were standing. The tilt of their heads toward each other as they spoke, the flush on Stiles' cheeks, and how Derek's hand lingered on Stiles' arm when he seemed to randomly reach out--it all slapped John in the face suddenly.
"Huh," he said aloud, interrupting the deputy.
"You think of something?" the deputy asked excitedly, thinking John was reacting to the case they were discussing.
John shook his head. "Sorry, I, uh... just realized I should be looking at it a different way."
The deputy looked confused but didn't say anything as John followed his son and his boyfriend out of the station.