Failure to Appear
Title: Failure To Appear
Summary: All human AU set in the future. Derek is a bounty hunter & Stiles failed to appear on his court date. Derek accepts the job of tracking down Stiles; despite their history together.
Warnings: None
Rating: Mature
Chapters: 10/?
Notes: No beta, so mistakes are mine as per usual.
PS AO3
Chapters 1| 2| 3| 4| 5| 6| 7| 8| 9|
-
“So is this really necessary?” Stiles asked for the umpteenth time since they started their drive back to the city. They were only an hour or so outside of the city now and Derek has yet to say anything regardless of the incessant babbling coming from Stiles. “I mean, I’m sure I can talk to the judge or something and clear it all up.”
“You can,” Derek finally relented.
“I can?” Stiles straightened up in his seat.
“Sure,” Derek said side glancing Stiles, “at your court date that will be set once you’re in jail.”
“Asshole,” Stiles muttered, he slouched back down in his seat and turned away from Derek.
That didn’t stop Derek from rolling his eyes because he figured now, after all this time Stiles would realise Derek’s not fucking around. He’s got a job to do and he’s going to do it.
Stiles didn’t bother talking to Derek the rest of the ride home, instead playing on his cell phone that was rapidly starting to die. Once the battery was dead he re-read all his notes, writing in the margins, high lighting certain parts and completely re-writing other bits.
-
“Why are we driving back to Williamsburg?” Stiles asked when he looked up and saw Derek taking the exit towards Williamsburg instead of continuing on into the city, “you’re not going to put me in some Brooklyn jail with gangsters. I’m too pretty to be stuck with them, they’ll eat my alive. I swear to God I’ll open this door and throw myself out Derek.”
“Shut up Stiles,” Derek huffed, “I have to go back to my apartment to pick up some paperwork for the police station, so they know I brought you in.”
“Oh right, all about the money with you big guy,” they were just pulling up to the familiar street Stiles now recognized as where Derek’s apartment was, “can we at least get something to eat before you haul me in to my death?”
Derek didn’t answer, pulling up on the side of the curb shutting his truck off and hopped out of the car. He heard Stiles start to scramble out of the car as well, but he wasn’t worried that Stiles was going to run - it’s not like he had many places to hide and by the looks of it he was scared enough of Brooklyn as it was. Amateur.
“Derek? Hey Derek!” someone called. “I just buzzed your apartment, but no answer.”
Derek whirled around to see Simon running towards him from his own car parked on the other side of the street.
“What are you doing here?” Derek growled, he visibly tensed looked at Stiles quickly - who stood a few feet away from Derek looking at the events unfolding.
“Haven’t heard from you all weekend, I thought I’d stop by and make sure you were okay. I see you’re… Busy,” Simon finished looking at Stiles.
“Oh, what me? Derek and I just work together is all,” Stiles said as he plastered the fakest smile he could.
“You’re a bounty hunter?” Simon asked looking at Stiles sceptically.
“No, I’m more of the paper work person y’know?” Stiles laughed, “We’re just bringing in this idiot that broke into an impound yard, I mean who even does that? Idiot.”
Derek couldn’t help the snort because yes, he agreed what kind of idiot actually breaks into an impound yard? Only Stiles. He was just lucky there were no dogs in the yard; he would have been torn to shreds.
“I guess I’ll see you, later then?” Simon asked as he backed up heading towards his car.
Derek nodded his head gruffly before turning around and started to head to the doors of his apartment building. Stiles stood, watched as Simon got in the car and gave a farewell wave with a grin on his face - Stiles was nothing if not cordial.
Once Stiles couldn’t see Simon’s car anymore, having turned a corner he turned on his heels and jogged to where Derek was about to head up the stairs in the entryway of the apartment building. Stiles grabbed a hold of Derek and tugged him down the first step, spinning him around so they were face-to-face.
“Married?” Stiles screeched, “c’mon Derek are you serious right now? I saw that ring on his finger!”
Derek sighed, rubbed his hands down his face. “It’s none of your business Stiles.”
“It may not be but his poor husband, God I can’t imagine how shitty he’d feel when he found out.”
Stiles saw the moment Derek clenched his jaw and looked away. That revealed enough for Stiles to decipher what was going on.
“A woman?” Stiles screeched for the second time, “are you serious Derek? Just because your marriage didn’t work out doesn’t mean it gives you the right to go and destroy someone else’s.”
“Shut up Stiles” Derek muttered turning around and started to stomp up the stairs.
“Does he have kids? God I hope not. Jesus Christ.”
“I’m sorry I’m not on the same moral high ground that you’re on Stiles,” Derek interjected; he stopped midway up the stairs and Stiles almost bumped into him.
Stiles opened and closes his mouth a few times, about to tell Derek that no, he was not in fact on any moral high ground either. Granted a one night stand was a little different than sleeping with a married man. Then again, for all Stiles knew Adriano was married, or in a relationship - who knows, Stiles didn’t ask and Adriano didn’t say anything. He followed behind Derek in silence and waited outside Derek’s apartment as he stomped around inside shoving papers, enveloped stuffed with bills aside looking for the paperwork.
Once Derek got the paperwork he marched back downstairs and they began their journey back into the city.
“Can I-,”
“Stiles,” Derek sighed as he put his indicator on, stepping on the gas to overpass a slow taxi.
“No just let me get this out,” Stiles interrupted before Derek could tell him to shut up, “I don’t think I’m on any moral high ground nor have any sort of sensibility. If I did I wouldn’t have blatantly embarrassed myself in high school just to get your attention. Not that I regret it, not for a minute. I just don’t think it’s very, you.”
“Very me?” Derek repeated.
“Yes. You’re the fiercest loyal person I know. To get yourself in the situation you did, well I don’t think it’s very you and I think you deserve better than that, you deserve to be happy. I know you.”
“Apparently not,” Derek muttered.
Stiles didn’t know whether Derek was referring to the whole talking about feelings thing, because they were never the kind of couple to spill their feelings all over each other at every waking moment - that’s not to say they were dejected they just had their boundaries. Or the whole happiness thing, because Stiles was starting to realise that Derek never wanted to end their relationship, so he’s not the happiest guy around at the minute.
Stiles didn’t know whether he preferred the latter or the former, both sucked and both still resulted in the two men skirting around their issues.
“Say what you will, Derek but you and I know each other better than anyone else. That’s probably why we drove each other crazy this weekend.”
Stiles looked out the window and didn’t say another word.
-
“Derek Hale,” Derek said flashing his Bounty Hunter badge at the police officer manning the desk at the New York Police Department. Thankfully it was an officer Derek didn’t know, he really didn’t want to see any of his old co-workers, so they could make jokes about being a fake cop or bowing out early. “This is Stiles Stilinski,” he continued and slid the papers he fetched from his apartment earlier across the counter.
The officer nodded his head, looked over the papers, signed another piece, stamped it and handed it back to Derek.
“I’ll take him off your hands now Mr Hale,” the officer said, he walked around the counter and grabbed Stiles by the upper arm leading him through the station.
Stiles turned his head back to look at Derek, giving a wry little smile before turning back around and continued on with the officer. No dramatic goodbyes, no farewell kiss (okay maybe that was wishful thinking, completely on Stiles part), not even a “see ya later.”
Not that Stiles could blame Derek, not really. He was probably ecstatic to finally get Stiles off his hands; he was quite a handful considering everything they’d been through this past weekend. The running away in Battery Park, the drive up to Adirondack Park, buying and trying to canoe with all those camping supplies, getting stuck in a net high in the air, fearing for their life when the Blood Moon Pack got a hold of them, that crazy lacrosse game where Derek body slammed Stiles to the ground, having to spend yet another night in the forest without their proper camping supplies. Only to realise that hey, the Blood Moon Pack isn’t all that bad, actually they’re not bad at all.
So yeah, Derek probably deserved a nice crisp beer, while Stiles was stuck sitting in an empty jail call. At least it was empty and he didn’t have a cellmate because he really didn’t have the energy to even be scared of what some guy would do to him or what gang he might accidently join. He didn’t think a jailhouse tattoo would suit him very well.
They didn’t even let Stiles keep his satchel, instead stuffing it into a plastic bag. One of the officers did look over Stiles’ notes and deemed that there wasn’t any explicit or condemning information on it, so he let Stiles keep that in the cell with him - when he asked for a pen though the officer laughed in his face. Stiles put on his best scowl face that could hardly match Derek’s until the officer relented and came back with a highlighter.
Stiles was about to retort some smart ass comment but quickly shut his mouth. He was in jail after all and didn’t really have any room to let his smart mouth get him into any more trouble. So he took the highlighter and started writing out his article on some blank pieces of paper, his eyes became tired after a while staring at the blankness of the whitepaper and the brightness of the yellow highlighter as he wrote.
-
“Mr Stiles Stilinski, breaking and entering of a private business, breaking and entering of a car on private property, attempted theft - and it wasn’t even your car,” the judge, Judge Abernathy read off the sheet, as he peered at Stiles - sitting at the defendants table with his lawyer - over his glasses.
“Your honour,” Stiles’ lawyer Mr Walsh tried, as he stood up, “my client has no priers, comes from a family whose father is the Sheriff, husband a cop. He understands the law, and realises what he did was an error in judgement.”
Stiles tried not to cringe when the lawyer mentioned Derek his “husband cop” because a) he wasn’t a cop anymore and b) he and Derek weren’t even together anymore. The lawyer assured Stiles that the judge couldn’t possibly know that he and Derek were separated, they hadn’t officially filed any papers yet and it could only help.
“Mr Stilinski, your lawyer points out you come from a family who’s heavily involved in the law yet you so easily defy it - have you no respect?”
“With all due respect your honour-,” Mr Walsh started before Judge Abernathy interrupted.
“Mr Stilinski, I respect that you have no priers and a steady job. I’m not in the business of making examples of people, I rule for each case separately regarding the charges and the defendants’ background. However, considering you did skip your bail I’m not about to so easily let you off of the hook. You’ll not do any jail time; you will be on probation for 6 months and 50 hours of community service to be finished within those 6 months. Do we have an understanding?”
Before Stiles could answer, Mr Walsh said, “yes your honour,” and with that the judge banged his gavel, stood and left for his chambers.
“Talk about getting off easy Mr Stilinski,” Mr Walsh said shaking Stiles’ hands as they exited the court room.
-
Stiles’ article is a hit. It’s gotten rave reviews from everyone in the office; Mr Gilmore is elated that he’s the only paper in the city to get the scoop on this well sought after story. Even Jackson patted Stiles’ on the back saying “not so bad Stilinski” and coming from Jackson, well Stiles would take it.
The story hadn’t gone exactly to plan Stiles had intended to write a story about an elusive group that caused chaos and crime and instead wrote a sombre piece about a group of people trying to live their life, all with the stigmatism attached to them of a life full of crime. Stiles was lucky that Adahy let him take some pictures; even if no faces or distinct geographical areas were shown otherwise the article would have been labelled a fluke.
Needless to say Mr Gilmore was apparently a man of his word. Stiles sat in Serendipity’s at 225 East 60th Street New York, waiting for his Golden Opulence Sundae to come out.
“I’m here, I’m here,” Lydia sighed as she plunked herself down across the table from Stiles, acting as if she were being put out. Although Stiles knew that Lydia could pack away more food than most men their age, so she was the perfect person to celebrate with. Besides, Lydia had a sweet tooth and even if she didn’t admit it, she missed Jackson and what better way than to gorge out on a $1000 sundae?
“Don’t act like you’re not excited Lydia Martin,” Stiles narrowed his eyes as he accused Lydia.
He was right because he saw a group of waiter’s coming out carrying the largest most immaculate sundae Stiles has even seen in his entire life. There are multiple scoops of ice cream, drizzled in what’s apparently one of the most expensive chocolates in the world, candied fruits, gold covered almonds, chocolate truffles and not to mention topped off with 23-carat gold leaf flakes sprinkled all over.
It was truly a work of art and both Stiles and Lydia were in awe, as everyone else in the store scooted in close just to get a picture. Neither Stiles nor Lydia could resist as they fetched their phones out and started snapping pictures of the sundae itself, each grabbing a spoon and digging in, and even had one of the waiters take a picture of the two of them hidden behind the giant sundae.
“There’s no way we’re going to finish this,” Stiles groaned as he rubbed at his head, he was already getting brain freeze.
“You have little faith,” Lydia admonished as she dug into the sundae not letting up in the slightest.
“At least we have no men in our lives to worry about if we get fat,” Stiles joked.
“Mm,” Lydia agreed.
They say in silence a little longer starting to make a dent in the sundae when Stiles phone started ringing, he looked at the number and scrunched his face up because it said it was an international call.
“Is that Adriano?” Lydia asked as she peered over at Stiles’ phone on the table. “If so, don’t answer.”
“No boys interrupting our little date?” Stiles asked.
“No, no Adriano interrupting our date. If Derek wants to interrupt then that’s fine with me.”
“What! You’re the one that pushed me to Adriano,” Stiles pointed out.
“And I realise I made a mistake. You’ve been pouty ever since you got out of the slammer, either that weekend with Derek did a number on you, or you met your soul mate in jail.”
“Ha. Well it doesn’t matter either way,” Stiles pouted only further proving Lydia’s point.
“But it does Stiles. Not that I don’t love you, but you’re celebrating a huge success in your life and who do you call, me? When you really wanted to call?”
“Like you wouldn’t have done the same if you were celebrating,” Stiles countered. “You’d want to celebrate with Jackson.”
“I’d want to celebrate with the both of you. Just like you want to be celebrating with Derek and me.”
“Okay oh Holy Oprah, I got it.”
“Do you?” Lydia asked raising her perfectly arched eyebrow as she set down her spoon, grabbed her purse, kissed Stiles on the forehead and was out the door.
Stiles stared at Lydia’s retreating form as she exited Serendipity’s before sighing and picking up his cell phone, dialling an all too familiar number, even after this long - not that he expected an answer, but he got one anyway.
“Hey Derek,” Stiles said hesitantly into his phone.
Chapter 11|
Summary: All human AU set in the future. Derek is a bounty hunter & Stiles failed to appear on his court date. Derek accepts the job of tracking down Stiles; despite their history together.
Warnings: None
Rating: Mature
Chapters: 10/?
Notes: No beta, so mistakes are mine as per usual.
PS AO3
Chapters 1| 2| 3| 4| 5| 6| 7| 8| 9|
-
“So is this really necessary?” Stiles asked for the umpteenth time since they started their drive back to the city. They were only an hour or so outside of the city now and Derek has yet to say anything regardless of the incessant babbling coming from Stiles. “I mean, I’m sure I can talk to the judge or something and clear it all up.”
“You can,” Derek finally relented.
“I can?” Stiles straightened up in his seat.
“Sure,” Derek said side glancing Stiles, “at your court date that will be set once you’re in jail.”
“Asshole,” Stiles muttered, he slouched back down in his seat and turned away from Derek.
That didn’t stop Derek from rolling his eyes because he figured now, after all this time Stiles would realise Derek’s not fucking around. He’s got a job to do and he’s going to do it.
Stiles didn’t bother talking to Derek the rest of the ride home, instead playing on his cell phone that was rapidly starting to die. Once the battery was dead he re-read all his notes, writing in the margins, high lighting certain parts and completely re-writing other bits.
-
“Why are we driving back to Williamsburg?” Stiles asked when he looked up and saw Derek taking the exit towards Williamsburg instead of continuing on into the city, “you’re not going to put me in some Brooklyn jail with gangsters. I’m too pretty to be stuck with them, they’ll eat my alive. I swear to God I’ll open this door and throw myself out Derek.”
“Shut up Stiles,” Derek huffed, “I have to go back to my apartment to pick up some paperwork for the police station, so they know I brought you in.”
“Oh right, all about the money with you big guy,” they were just pulling up to the familiar street Stiles now recognized as where Derek’s apartment was, “can we at least get something to eat before you haul me in to my death?”
Derek didn’t answer, pulling up on the side of the curb shutting his truck off and hopped out of the car. He heard Stiles start to scramble out of the car as well, but he wasn’t worried that Stiles was going to run - it’s not like he had many places to hide and by the looks of it he was scared enough of Brooklyn as it was. Amateur.
“Derek? Hey Derek!” someone called. “I just buzzed your apartment, but no answer.”
Derek whirled around to see Simon running towards him from his own car parked on the other side of the street.
“What are you doing here?” Derek growled, he visibly tensed looked at Stiles quickly - who stood a few feet away from Derek looking at the events unfolding.
“Haven’t heard from you all weekend, I thought I’d stop by and make sure you were okay. I see you’re… Busy,” Simon finished looking at Stiles.
“Oh, what me? Derek and I just work together is all,” Stiles said as he plastered the fakest smile he could.
“You’re a bounty hunter?” Simon asked looking at Stiles sceptically.
“No, I’m more of the paper work person y’know?” Stiles laughed, “We’re just bringing in this idiot that broke into an impound yard, I mean who even does that? Idiot.”
Derek couldn’t help the snort because yes, he agreed what kind of idiot actually breaks into an impound yard? Only Stiles. He was just lucky there were no dogs in the yard; he would have been torn to shreds.
“I guess I’ll see you, later then?” Simon asked as he backed up heading towards his car.
Derek nodded his head gruffly before turning around and started to head to the doors of his apartment building. Stiles stood, watched as Simon got in the car and gave a farewell wave with a grin on his face - Stiles was nothing if not cordial.
Once Stiles couldn’t see Simon’s car anymore, having turned a corner he turned on his heels and jogged to where Derek was about to head up the stairs in the entryway of the apartment building. Stiles grabbed a hold of Derek and tugged him down the first step, spinning him around so they were face-to-face.
“Married?” Stiles screeched, “c’mon Derek are you serious right now? I saw that ring on his finger!”
Derek sighed, rubbed his hands down his face. “It’s none of your business Stiles.”
“It may not be but his poor husband, God I can’t imagine how shitty he’d feel when he found out.”
Stiles saw the moment Derek clenched his jaw and looked away. That revealed enough for Stiles to decipher what was going on.
“A woman?” Stiles screeched for the second time, “are you serious Derek? Just because your marriage didn’t work out doesn’t mean it gives you the right to go and destroy someone else’s.”
“Shut up Stiles” Derek muttered turning around and started to stomp up the stairs.
“Does he have kids? God I hope not. Jesus Christ.”
“I’m sorry I’m not on the same moral high ground that you’re on Stiles,” Derek interjected; he stopped midway up the stairs and Stiles almost bumped into him.
Stiles opened and closes his mouth a few times, about to tell Derek that no, he was not in fact on any moral high ground either. Granted a one night stand was a little different than sleeping with a married man. Then again, for all Stiles knew Adriano was married, or in a relationship - who knows, Stiles didn’t ask and Adriano didn’t say anything. He followed behind Derek in silence and waited outside Derek’s apartment as he stomped around inside shoving papers, enveloped stuffed with bills aside looking for the paperwork.
Once Derek got the paperwork he marched back downstairs and they began their journey back into the city.
“Can I-,”
“Stiles,” Derek sighed as he put his indicator on, stepping on the gas to overpass a slow taxi.
“No just let me get this out,” Stiles interrupted before Derek could tell him to shut up, “I don’t think I’m on any moral high ground nor have any sort of sensibility. If I did I wouldn’t have blatantly embarrassed myself in high school just to get your attention. Not that I regret it, not for a minute. I just don’t think it’s very, you.”
“Very me?” Derek repeated.
“Yes. You’re the fiercest loyal person I know. To get yourself in the situation you did, well I don’t think it’s very you and I think you deserve better than that, you deserve to be happy. I know you.”
“Apparently not,” Derek muttered.
Stiles didn’t know whether Derek was referring to the whole talking about feelings thing, because they were never the kind of couple to spill their feelings all over each other at every waking moment - that’s not to say they were dejected they just had their boundaries. Or the whole happiness thing, because Stiles was starting to realise that Derek never wanted to end their relationship, so he’s not the happiest guy around at the minute.
Stiles didn’t know whether he preferred the latter or the former, both sucked and both still resulted in the two men skirting around their issues.
“Say what you will, Derek but you and I know each other better than anyone else. That’s probably why we drove each other crazy this weekend.”
Stiles looked out the window and didn’t say another word.
-
“Derek Hale,” Derek said flashing his Bounty Hunter badge at the police officer manning the desk at the New York Police Department. Thankfully it was an officer Derek didn’t know, he really didn’t want to see any of his old co-workers, so they could make jokes about being a fake cop or bowing out early. “This is Stiles Stilinski,” he continued and slid the papers he fetched from his apartment earlier across the counter.
The officer nodded his head, looked over the papers, signed another piece, stamped it and handed it back to Derek.
“I’ll take him off your hands now Mr Hale,” the officer said, he walked around the counter and grabbed Stiles by the upper arm leading him through the station.
Stiles turned his head back to look at Derek, giving a wry little smile before turning back around and continued on with the officer. No dramatic goodbyes, no farewell kiss (okay maybe that was wishful thinking, completely on Stiles part), not even a “see ya later.”
Not that Stiles could blame Derek, not really. He was probably ecstatic to finally get Stiles off his hands; he was quite a handful considering everything they’d been through this past weekend. The running away in Battery Park, the drive up to Adirondack Park, buying and trying to canoe with all those camping supplies, getting stuck in a net high in the air, fearing for their life when the Blood Moon Pack got a hold of them, that crazy lacrosse game where Derek body slammed Stiles to the ground, having to spend yet another night in the forest without their proper camping supplies. Only to realise that hey, the Blood Moon Pack isn’t all that bad, actually they’re not bad at all.
So yeah, Derek probably deserved a nice crisp beer, while Stiles was stuck sitting in an empty jail call. At least it was empty and he didn’t have a cellmate because he really didn’t have the energy to even be scared of what some guy would do to him or what gang he might accidently join. He didn’t think a jailhouse tattoo would suit him very well.
They didn’t even let Stiles keep his satchel, instead stuffing it into a plastic bag. One of the officers did look over Stiles’ notes and deemed that there wasn’t any explicit or condemning information on it, so he let Stiles keep that in the cell with him - when he asked for a pen though the officer laughed in his face. Stiles put on his best scowl face that could hardly match Derek’s until the officer relented and came back with a highlighter.
Stiles was about to retort some smart ass comment but quickly shut his mouth. He was in jail after all and didn’t really have any room to let his smart mouth get him into any more trouble. So he took the highlighter and started writing out his article on some blank pieces of paper, his eyes became tired after a while staring at the blankness of the whitepaper and the brightness of the yellow highlighter as he wrote.
-
“Mr Stiles Stilinski, breaking and entering of a private business, breaking and entering of a car on private property, attempted theft - and it wasn’t even your car,” the judge, Judge Abernathy read off the sheet, as he peered at Stiles - sitting at the defendants table with his lawyer - over his glasses.
“Your honour,” Stiles’ lawyer Mr Walsh tried, as he stood up, “my client has no priers, comes from a family whose father is the Sheriff, husband a cop. He understands the law, and realises what he did was an error in judgement.”
Stiles tried not to cringe when the lawyer mentioned Derek his “husband cop” because a) he wasn’t a cop anymore and b) he and Derek weren’t even together anymore. The lawyer assured Stiles that the judge couldn’t possibly know that he and Derek were separated, they hadn’t officially filed any papers yet and it could only help.
“Mr Stilinski, your lawyer points out you come from a family who’s heavily involved in the law yet you so easily defy it - have you no respect?”
“With all due respect your honour-,” Mr Walsh started before Judge Abernathy interrupted.
“Mr Stilinski, I respect that you have no priers and a steady job. I’m not in the business of making examples of people, I rule for each case separately regarding the charges and the defendants’ background. However, considering you did skip your bail I’m not about to so easily let you off of the hook. You’ll not do any jail time; you will be on probation for 6 months and 50 hours of community service to be finished within those 6 months. Do we have an understanding?”
Before Stiles could answer, Mr Walsh said, “yes your honour,” and with that the judge banged his gavel, stood and left for his chambers.
“Talk about getting off easy Mr Stilinski,” Mr Walsh said shaking Stiles’ hands as they exited the court room.
-
Stiles’ article is a hit. It’s gotten rave reviews from everyone in the office; Mr Gilmore is elated that he’s the only paper in the city to get the scoop on this well sought after story. Even Jackson patted Stiles’ on the back saying “not so bad Stilinski” and coming from Jackson, well Stiles would take it.
The story hadn’t gone exactly to plan Stiles had intended to write a story about an elusive group that caused chaos and crime and instead wrote a sombre piece about a group of people trying to live their life, all with the stigmatism attached to them of a life full of crime. Stiles was lucky that Adahy let him take some pictures; even if no faces or distinct geographical areas were shown otherwise the article would have been labelled a fluke.
Needless to say Mr Gilmore was apparently a man of his word. Stiles sat in Serendipity’s at 225 East 60th Street New York, waiting for his Golden Opulence Sundae to come out.
“I’m here, I’m here,” Lydia sighed as she plunked herself down across the table from Stiles, acting as if she were being put out. Although Stiles knew that Lydia could pack away more food than most men their age, so she was the perfect person to celebrate with. Besides, Lydia had a sweet tooth and even if she didn’t admit it, she missed Jackson and what better way than to gorge out on a $1000 sundae?
“Don’t act like you’re not excited Lydia Martin,” Stiles narrowed his eyes as he accused Lydia.
He was right because he saw a group of waiter’s coming out carrying the largest most immaculate sundae Stiles has even seen in his entire life. There are multiple scoops of ice cream, drizzled in what’s apparently one of the most expensive chocolates in the world, candied fruits, gold covered almonds, chocolate truffles and not to mention topped off with 23-carat gold leaf flakes sprinkled all over.
It was truly a work of art and both Stiles and Lydia were in awe, as everyone else in the store scooted in close just to get a picture. Neither Stiles nor Lydia could resist as they fetched their phones out and started snapping pictures of the sundae itself, each grabbing a spoon and digging in, and even had one of the waiters take a picture of the two of them hidden behind the giant sundae.
“There’s no way we’re going to finish this,” Stiles groaned as he rubbed at his head, he was already getting brain freeze.
“You have little faith,” Lydia admonished as she dug into the sundae not letting up in the slightest.
“At least we have no men in our lives to worry about if we get fat,” Stiles joked.
“Mm,” Lydia agreed.
They say in silence a little longer starting to make a dent in the sundae when Stiles phone started ringing, he looked at the number and scrunched his face up because it said it was an international call.
“Is that Adriano?” Lydia asked as she peered over at Stiles’ phone on the table. “If so, don’t answer.”
“No boys interrupting our little date?” Stiles asked.
“No, no Adriano interrupting our date. If Derek wants to interrupt then that’s fine with me.”
“What! You’re the one that pushed me to Adriano,” Stiles pointed out.
“And I realise I made a mistake. You’ve been pouty ever since you got out of the slammer, either that weekend with Derek did a number on you, or you met your soul mate in jail.”
“Ha. Well it doesn’t matter either way,” Stiles pouted only further proving Lydia’s point.
“But it does Stiles. Not that I don’t love you, but you’re celebrating a huge success in your life and who do you call, me? When you really wanted to call?”
“Like you wouldn’t have done the same if you were celebrating,” Stiles countered. “You’d want to celebrate with Jackson.”
“I’d want to celebrate with the both of you. Just like you want to be celebrating with Derek and me.”
“Okay oh Holy Oprah, I got it.”
“Do you?” Lydia asked raising her perfectly arched eyebrow as she set down her spoon, grabbed her purse, kissed Stiles on the forehead and was out the door.
Stiles stared at Lydia’s retreating form as she exited Serendipity’s before sighing and picking up his cell phone, dialling an all too familiar number, even after this long - not that he expected an answer, but he got one anyway.
“Hey Derek,” Stiles said hesitantly into his phone.
Chapter 11|