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 3/?
Notes Okay so apparently I get all my inspiration from movies because I lack imagination? Plus my love for Gerard Butler (shh). Anyway it deviates pretty quickly from the Bounty Hunter, other than the fact that Derek's a bounty hunter. No beta, so mistakes are mine as per usual.
PS. AO3
Chapters: 1|2|
-
Derek got on the subway for what felt like the millionth time in one day - but he wasn’t heading in the direction of Stiles’ apartment but instead to his own. It seemed apparent that bringing Stiles into jail wasn’t going to be as easy as he had initially thought. He got off at the stop closest to his apartment before he started the ten minute or so trek to his apartment, turning down a side street to get to his truck that was parked on the road under a tree. The joys of living in a cheap studio apartment was that he didn’t have his own parking or a parking garage, he just had to park it on the street and hope for the best.
He fished the keys out of his pocket and started up the engine heading towards Stiles’ apartment. He took the Williamsburg Bridge, not enjoying the view like he knew Stiles would but instead tried to speed along as fast as he could during the mid-day traffic. There was something about bridges that he just didn’t like. Oh yeah, being suspended over a large body of water, that was it. It didn’t take long, about 20 minutes before Derek was pulling up outside a light brown bricked building kept in immaculate condition. Some of the apartments had little balconies protruding from the windows while others just had large glass windows.
Derek drove around until he could find a parking spot, parking his car and shoving his keys back into his pocket making his way towards Stiles’ building. Now was the hard part, he needed to get inside the building and he was pretty sure he saw a doorman standing outside the building. Derek hated to admit that although he was sour about Stiles living somewhere so nice, at least there was security. He removed his leather jacket trying to make himself look more presentable, quickly running back to his truck to throw his jacket in the front seat.
As he made his way towards the large arched front door he tried to relax his body, making it look like he frequented the building often and not about to try and break into someone’s apartment. The doorman came into view, immediately coming to attention as Derek approached.
“Afternoon sir, how can I help?” The doorman, an elderly man whose name tag read Philip asked.
“Just meeting my friend… Mr Smith - for lunch” Derek smiled as best as he could.
“Of course, enjoy” Philip beamed back, opening the door and gesturing Derek to walk on in.
Derek smiled; moving in as quickly as he could for fear that Philip would change his mind and catch on to Derek’s plan. He took back his initial thought, this building security sucks - and while he’s grateful for that as this moment, he’s not when it comes to Stiles safety. Not that that should be his main concern anymore. Nope.
He got into the elevator hitting the 10th floor button waiting as he made his ascent; avoiding eye contact with those who he shared the elevator with while also trying not to seem like a criminal. It would have been a hell of a lot easier if he still had his police uniform, people respected that. They feared a man in a leather jacket and boots; at least he rid himself of the jacket. Of course, if he were still a police officer it wouldn’t have been his job to collect Stiles.
Once the elevator reached the tenth floor, he got out and walked in the direction of Stiles’ apartment number, reaching it. Now was the tricky part, he had to be quick in trying to pick the lock before someone came off of the elevator or came out of their apartment and saw Derek, and called security. He removed the pins from his jean pockets that he had collected out of his truck, inserting them into the front door keyhole, fiddling around for a few seconds before hearing the tell-tale click of the door unlocking.
He removed the pins from the lock and opened the door to Stiles’ apartment quickly shutting it behind him and relocking it. His eyes swept up and down the hallway looking at the coat rack that had a few of Stiles’ jackets with his shoes lined up perfectly underneath. He continued down the hallway into a large open spacious living room that housed a black leather sofa, that kind that reclined on the two ends, and a smaller two seater adjacent with a large flat screen TV in front. Derek wasn’t surprised to see that the TV had a DVD player, with a bunch of speakers surrounding it with Stiles’ massive DVD collection off to the side. If Derek remembered correctly Stiles even had the DVD’s organised in alphabetical order, by genre.
He continued down another hallway that presumably led to the bedrooms, peeking his head into the first bedroom that was clean but bare, with just the bed and bedside table - the guestroom. When he came to the last door, opening it, he saw that it was the master bedroom. The room was perfectly clean, save for a pair of trousers and a dress shirt thrown on the ground as if Stiles changed in a rush forgetting to pick up his clothes. It was a far cry from the days when Stiles was in high school. Not that his room was messy per say, he just had papers thrown everywhere and clothes littering the ground but if you asked Stiles he would tell you that he made sense of the chaos that was his room.
Derek walked back to the kitchen, opening the fridge - he grabbed a container filled with leftovers that looked deliciously amazing; spaghetti with meatballs with what he was sure was Stiles’ own sauce recipe. He heated it up, grabbed a beer from the fridge while he waited for the microwave to ding then he walked back to Stiles’ bed, made himself comfortable on top - leaving his shoes on which he knew Stiles’ hated and flicked on the TV waiting for Stiles to return.
-
Stiles let out a whoop of joy as he emerged from the other side of the sculpture when he realised he had escaped from Derek’s grasp. He really thought that Derek was going to catch up to him, considering he was an ex-cop and all. But then again, Derek got cocky forgetting that Stiles knew Battery Park better than most. He tried to decide where he should head to next, because there was no way he was going to go back into the office, considering Derek knew where he worked.
He instead decided to head to the coffee shop that was a few blocks away from his apartment that served some of the best coffee in New York, in his humble opinion. Derek definitely wouldn’t think to look there since he didn’t know where Stiles lived let alone where his new coffee place was.
Stiles ordered a cup of coffee, setting up his laptop on the table so that he could try and get some work done - and not think about how he’d just seen Derek for the first time in over a year. And definitely not think about the fact that Derek was there to take him in to fucking jail. This was just his life. He greedily drank up the coffee as soon as it cooled down enough, chowing down on his sandwich as he typed away about his article.
He was working on what he hoped would be an amazing article not covered by many others papers, but it was proving hard to get all the facts because everything going down was all secretive or just speculation. His boss had faith in him though; he’d covered some pretty interesting and bizarre cases in the past.
For instance, he covered one case where a man who had previously been in jail had made a show of shop lifting so that he would get arrested again, all because he had leukaemia and needed the healthcare cover that he’d get in prison but couldn’t afford outside. It was an interesting court case to sit in on and Stiles article had been a hit. Not only did he cover the generalness of the case but he managed to go on about healthcare in the United States and how most couldn’t afford it, the usual complaints from most. But the fact that someone would willingly commit a crime just to get free healthcare, you just couldn’t make shit like that up.
After a few more hours at the coffee shop Stiles couldn’t focus any longer on his work and he really didn’t need to order his third cup of coffee otherwise he’d be up all night and completely fuck up his sleeping pattern - again. He packed up his laptop and loose papers getting ready for the trek home.
--
As soon as Stiles’ walked in to his house he realised something was off. Firstly, there were little chunks of dirt on his rug in the entry hallway - dirt that had not been there this morning. Secondly, there was a noise coming from somewhere in the house - he lived alone. Instead of doing the smart thing and vacating his apartment and calling security like he ought to, he shut his front door, dropped his satchel on the ground and crept further into the house. He peeked into the front room making sure there was no one in there, when there wasn’t he continued on to his kitchen and realised there was no one in there. He did however; notice that there was a dirty serving spoon on the counter, one he certainly did not leave there considering he hadn’t had anything to eat in his apartment for at least a full 24 hours.
He silently picked up the closest thing to him and crept as stealthily as he could to the room that he was almost certain someone was currently occupying. As he approached his bedroom he could hear what sounded like the TV on and he stopped a second to wonder who the fuck would break into someone’s apartment to watch TV - maybe to make sure it worked first?
“You chose the wrong fucking house you shit bag!” Stiles yelled as he barged into his bedroom holding up his weapon of choice - at the exact same time his back hit the wall as he was being pushed into it held in place with an arm across his throat closing off part of his airway.
“What the hell did you plan to accomplish with a fucking baguette Stiles?” Derek growled from his position in front of Stiles, holding him in place - eyes sweeping down to Stiles’ hands that held a white baguette still in its packaging.
“Over-carb you to death?” Stiles sputtered out trying to get some air to his lungs, trying to wiggle free from Derek’s grip. “Now get off me!”
Derek complied stepping away, only fractionally from Stiles, still looming in his personal space.
“I’m pretty sure it’s illegal to break into someone’s house, cop or not and you’re not one anymore” Stiles pointed out as he rubbed his hand across his throat where Derek held him only moments ago.
“You ran” Derek answered.
“You told me to!” Stiles threw out as he tossed the useless baguette onto the bed, he distracted himself from the fact that Derek was in his bedroom by picking up the clothes he had dropped this morning in a haste to get ready for work.
“I didn’t think you’d get away.”
“Glad to see you still have faith in me” Stiles accused, not making eye contact as he shoved his clothes in his laundry hamper.
“Doesn’t matter - I’m still bringing you in” Derek replied as he once again made himself comfortable on Stiles’ bed.
“It’s Friday evening” Stiles pointed out ignoring Derek’s raised eyebrow “There won’t be a judge to see me until the week begins so what am I supposed to do just sit in jail all weekend?” as he crossed his arms defensively.
“Not my problem is it?” Derek smirked moving his shoes around on the bed watching Stiles get frustrated but not saying anything. Derek more than remembered Stiles’ previous complaints about shoes and beds when they were married, it used to drive him crazy.
“But-”
“If I don’t bring you in - someone else will Stiles.”
“I’ll pay you!” Stiles bargained “I promise I’ll turn myself in on Monday after the holidays.”
“I get paid to bring you in anyway” Derek shrugged “I was looking forward to it.”
“But - I got it!” Stiles exclaimed as he dashed out of the bedroom.
Derek was up in an instant ready to chase after Stiles in case he made another run for it, Derek wouldn’t put it past Stiles, the little fucker. Only Stiles didn’t try and make a run for it, he knew better than to think that he could make it to the elevator before Derek caught up to him. And he definitely was not going to try and run down the stairs, knowing his luck he’d tumble down and end up in the hospital, handcuffed to the bed. He instead rummaged throw a ceramic bowl full of knick knacks near the front door producing a set of keys, dangling them in front of Derek.
“I’ll pay you and give you the keys to the Camaro” Stiles beamed because this was surely a bargain Derek couldn’t refuse.
When Derek and Stiles moved to New York from Beacon Hills, Derek had reluctantly sold his precious Camaro so that they’d have some more money in New York. He kept his car in perfect condition and knew he could sucker some guy into paying more than it was worth - and he was right. If Derek was heartbroken about it, it didn’t show at the time because he was moving to New York for him and Stiles to start a new life, as long as Stiles was there he didn’t care. A few years after that, when they both had steady jobs they had decided to buy another one, one almost exactly like the one Derek owned.
Only because Stiles had the better job did they put his name on the car even though Derek drove it most of the time. When they separated Stiles had taken the car leaving Derek, once again without a Camaro only this time did he put up a fight saying he wanted the car - but of course Stiles won. Now faced with the opportunity to have the Camaro back, Derek was tempted.
“You know you want it” Stiles taunted as he continued to dangle the keys in front of Derek’s face.
Derek snatched the keys out of Stiles hands before Stiles had a chance to jerk his arm backwards.
“2000 bucks” Derek said pocketing the keys.
“Are you crazy? A thousand tops” Stiles countered.
“$3000” Derek shrugged.
“Fine $1500.”
“$2500 and the Camaro with signed documents showing the transfer of the car in my name” Derek replied crossing his arms telling Stiles that was his final offer.
“Ugh fine!” Stiles exclaimed throwing his hands up in the air in defeat. “First thing Monday morning, I’m in jail, you’re $2500 richer with a fucking car. Life is perfect for you isn’t it?”
Stiles moved to open the door to usher Derek out. Only Derek turned on his heels walking back further into Stiles apartment ignoring Stiles mouth hanging open.
“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?” Stiles called out to Derek’s retreating form. “Door is this way, are you not familiar with how one works? Basic opening of door, stepping out, and shutting door!”
“You really think I’m going to leave you, so you make a run for it again?” Derek yelled back from the front room.
“What, you think I’m stupid enough to cross state lines when there’s a warrant out for my arrest? Thanks but I don’t need to give my dad a fucking heart attack about harbouring a fugitive” Stiles muttered following after Derek.
“Wouldn’t put anything past you” Derek solemnly replied.
Stiles chose to ignore whatever it was Derek was trying to imply and instead said “So what, you plan to stay here all weekend?”
“That’s the plan. Where you go, I go.”
“This is ridiculous” screamed Stiles as he headed back towards his bedroom. “I’m going to shower, would you like to check to make sure the windows are locked in case I decide to tie my bed linens together and propel down the side of the building?” questioned Stiles.
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Then make yourself useful and clean up the mess you made in my god damn bedroom” Stiles yelled back.
Of course, Derek didn’t bother cleaning up after himself knowing it would drive Stiles crazy. He was right as he heard Stiles swearing under his breath as he made his way back towards the kitchen carrying Derek’s dirty dishes and putting them in the dish washer. Derek was sure he heard something along the lines of “glad to see things haven’t changed” - not that he could be sure.
TBC.
Chapter 4|
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 3/?
Notes Okay so apparently I get all my inspiration from movies because I lack imagination? Plus my love for Gerard Butler (shh). Anyway it deviates pretty quickly from the Bounty Hunter, other than the fact that Derek's a bounty hunter. No beta, so mistakes are mine as per usual.
PS. AO3
Chapters: 1|2|
-
Derek got on the subway for what felt like the millionth time in one day - but he wasn’t heading in the direction of Stiles’ apartment but instead to his own. It seemed apparent that bringing Stiles into jail wasn’t going to be as easy as he had initially thought. He got off at the stop closest to his apartment before he started the ten minute or so trek to his apartment, turning down a side street to get to his truck that was parked on the road under a tree. The joys of living in a cheap studio apartment was that he didn’t have his own parking or a parking garage, he just had to park it on the street and hope for the best.
He fished the keys out of his pocket and started up the engine heading towards Stiles’ apartment. He took the Williamsburg Bridge, not enjoying the view like he knew Stiles would but instead tried to speed along as fast as he could during the mid-day traffic. There was something about bridges that he just didn’t like. Oh yeah, being suspended over a large body of water, that was it. It didn’t take long, about 20 minutes before Derek was pulling up outside a light brown bricked building kept in immaculate condition. Some of the apartments had little balconies protruding from the windows while others just had large glass windows.
Derek drove around until he could find a parking spot, parking his car and shoving his keys back into his pocket making his way towards Stiles’ building. Now was the hard part, he needed to get inside the building and he was pretty sure he saw a doorman standing outside the building. Derek hated to admit that although he was sour about Stiles living somewhere so nice, at least there was security. He removed his leather jacket trying to make himself look more presentable, quickly running back to his truck to throw his jacket in the front seat.
As he made his way towards the large arched front door he tried to relax his body, making it look like he frequented the building often and not about to try and break into someone’s apartment. The doorman came into view, immediately coming to attention as Derek approached.
“Afternoon sir, how can I help?” The doorman, an elderly man whose name tag read Philip asked.
“Just meeting my friend… Mr Smith - for lunch” Derek smiled as best as he could.
“Of course, enjoy” Philip beamed back, opening the door and gesturing Derek to walk on in.
Derek smiled; moving in as quickly as he could for fear that Philip would change his mind and catch on to Derek’s plan. He took back his initial thought, this building security sucks - and while he’s grateful for that as this moment, he’s not when it comes to Stiles safety. Not that that should be his main concern anymore. Nope.
He got into the elevator hitting the 10th floor button waiting as he made his ascent; avoiding eye contact with those who he shared the elevator with while also trying not to seem like a criminal. It would have been a hell of a lot easier if he still had his police uniform, people respected that. They feared a man in a leather jacket and boots; at least he rid himself of the jacket. Of course, if he were still a police officer it wouldn’t have been his job to collect Stiles.
Once the elevator reached the tenth floor, he got out and walked in the direction of Stiles’ apartment number, reaching it. Now was the tricky part, he had to be quick in trying to pick the lock before someone came off of the elevator or came out of their apartment and saw Derek, and called security. He removed the pins from his jean pockets that he had collected out of his truck, inserting them into the front door keyhole, fiddling around for a few seconds before hearing the tell-tale click of the door unlocking.
He removed the pins from the lock and opened the door to Stiles’ apartment quickly shutting it behind him and relocking it. His eyes swept up and down the hallway looking at the coat rack that had a few of Stiles’ jackets with his shoes lined up perfectly underneath. He continued down the hallway into a large open spacious living room that housed a black leather sofa, that kind that reclined on the two ends, and a smaller two seater adjacent with a large flat screen TV in front. Derek wasn’t surprised to see that the TV had a DVD player, with a bunch of speakers surrounding it with Stiles’ massive DVD collection off to the side. If Derek remembered correctly Stiles even had the DVD’s organised in alphabetical order, by genre.
He continued down another hallway that presumably led to the bedrooms, peeking his head into the first bedroom that was clean but bare, with just the bed and bedside table - the guestroom. When he came to the last door, opening it, he saw that it was the master bedroom. The room was perfectly clean, save for a pair of trousers and a dress shirt thrown on the ground as if Stiles changed in a rush forgetting to pick up his clothes. It was a far cry from the days when Stiles was in high school. Not that his room was messy per say, he just had papers thrown everywhere and clothes littering the ground but if you asked Stiles he would tell you that he made sense of the chaos that was his room.
Derek walked back to the kitchen, opening the fridge - he grabbed a container filled with leftovers that looked deliciously amazing; spaghetti with meatballs with what he was sure was Stiles’ own sauce recipe. He heated it up, grabbed a beer from the fridge while he waited for the microwave to ding then he walked back to Stiles’ bed, made himself comfortable on top - leaving his shoes on which he knew Stiles’ hated and flicked on the TV waiting for Stiles to return.
-
Stiles let out a whoop of joy as he emerged from the other side of the sculpture when he realised he had escaped from Derek’s grasp. He really thought that Derek was going to catch up to him, considering he was an ex-cop and all. But then again, Derek got cocky forgetting that Stiles knew Battery Park better than most. He tried to decide where he should head to next, because there was no way he was going to go back into the office, considering Derek knew where he worked.
He instead decided to head to the coffee shop that was a few blocks away from his apartment that served some of the best coffee in New York, in his humble opinion. Derek definitely wouldn’t think to look there since he didn’t know where Stiles lived let alone where his new coffee place was.
Stiles ordered a cup of coffee, setting up his laptop on the table so that he could try and get some work done - and not think about how he’d just seen Derek for the first time in over a year. And definitely not think about the fact that Derek was there to take him in to fucking jail. This was just his life. He greedily drank up the coffee as soon as it cooled down enough, chowing down on his sandwich as he typed away about his article.
He was working on what he hoped would be an amazing article not covered by many others papers, but it was proving hard to get all the facts because everything going down was all secretive or just speculation. His boss had faith in him though; he’d covered some pretty interesting and bizarre cases in the past.
For instance, he covered one case where a man who had previously been in jail had made a show of shop lifting so that he would get arrested again, all because he had leukaemia and needed the healthcare cover that he’d get in prison but couldn’t afford outside. It was an interesting court case to sit in on and Stiles article had been a hit. Not only did he cover the generalness of the case but he managed to go on about healthcare in the United States and how most couldn’t afford it, the usual complaints from most. But the fact that someone would willingly commit a crime just to get free healthcare, you just couldn’t make shit like that up.
After a few more hours at the coffee shop Stiles couldn’t focus any longer on his work and he really didn’t need to order his third cup of coffee otherwise he’d be up all night and completely fuck up his sleeping pattern - again. He packed up his laptop and loose papers getting ready for the trek home.
--
As soon as Stiles’ walked in to his house he realised something was off. Firstly, there were little chunks of dirt on his rug in the entry hallway - dirt that had not been there this morning. Secondly, there was a noise coming from somewhere in the house - he lived alone. Instead of doing the smart thing and vacating his apartment and calling security like he ought to, he shut his front door, dropped his satchel on the ground and crept further into the house. He peeked into the front room making sure there was no one in there, when there wasn’t he continued on to his kitchen and realised there was no one in there. He did however; notice that there was a dirty serving spoon on the counter, one he certainly did not leave there considering he hadn’t had anything to eat in his apartment for at least a full 24 hours.
He silently picked up the closest thing to him and crept as stealthily as he could to the room that he was almost certain someone was currently occupying. As he approached his bedroom he could hear what sounded like the TV on and he stopped a second to wonder who the fuck would break into someone’s apartment to watch TV - maybe to make sure it worked first?
“You chose the wrong fucking house you shit bag!” Stiles yelled as he barged into his bedroom holding up his weapon of choice - at the exact same time his back hit the wall as he was being pushed into it held in place with an arm across his throat closing off part of his airway.
“What the hell did you plan to accomplish with a fucking baguette Stiles?” Derek growled from his position in front of Stiles, holding him in place - eyes sweeping down to Stiles’ hands that held a white baguette still in its packaging.
“Over-carb you to death?” Stiles sputtered out trying to get some air to his lungs, trying to wiggle free from Derek’s grip. “Now get off me!”
Derek complied stepping away, only fractionally from Stiles, still looming in his personal space.
“I’m pretty sure it’s illegal to break into someone’s house, cop or not and you’re not one anymore” Stiles pointed out as he rubbed his hand across his throat where Derek held him only moments ago.
“You ran” Derek answered.
“You told me to!” Stiles threw out as he tossed the useless baguette onto the bed, he distracted himself from the fact that Derek was in his bedroom by picking up the clothes he had dropped this morning in a haste to get ready for work.
“I didn’t think you’d get away.”
“Glad to see you still have faith in me” Stiles accused, not making eye contact as he shoved his clothes in his laundry hamper.
“Doesn’t matter - I’m still bringing you in” Derek replied as he once again made himself comfortable on Stiles’ bed.
“It’s Friday evening” Stiles pointed out ignoring Derek’s raised eyebrow “There won’t be a judge to see me until the week begins so what am I supposed to do just sit in jail all weekend?” as he crossed his arms defensively.
“Not my problem is it?” Derek smirked moving his shoes around on the bed watching Stiles get frustrated but not saying anything. Derek more than remembered Stiles’ previous complaints about shoes and beds when they were married, it used to drive him crazy.
“But-”
“If I don’t bring you in - someone else will Stiles.”
“I’ll pay you!” Stiles bargained “I promise I’ll turn myself in on Monday after the holidays.”
“I get paid to bring you in anyway” Derek shrugged “I was looking forward to it.”
“But - I got it!” Stiles exclaimed as he dashed out of the bedroom.
Derek was up in an instant ready to chase after Stiles in case he made another run for it, Derek wouldn’t put it past Stiles, the little fucker. Only Stiles didn’t try and make a run for it, he knew better than to think that he could make it to the elevator before Derek caught up to him. And he definitely was not going to try and run down the stairs, knowing his luck he’d tumble down and end up in the hospital, handcuffed to the bed. He instead rummaged throw a ceramic bowl full of knick knacks near the front door producing a set of keys, dangling them in front of Derek.
“I’ll pay you and give you the keys to the Camaro” Stiles beamed because this was surely a bargain Derek couldn’t refuse.
When Derek and Stiles moved to New York from Beacon Hills, Derek had reluctantly sold his precious Camaro so that they’d have some more money in New York. He kept his car in perfect condition and knew he could sucker some guy into paying more than it was worth - and he was right. If Derek was heartbroken about it, it didn’t show at the time because he was moving to New York for him and Stiles to start a new life, as long as Stiles was there he didn’t care. A few years after that, when they both had steady jobs they had decided to buy another one, one almost exactly like the one Derek owned.
Only because Stiles had the better job did they put his name on the car even though Derek drove it most of the time. When they separated Stiles had taken the car leaving Derek, once again without a Camaro only this time did he put up a fight saying he wanted the car - but of course Stiles won. Now faced with the opportunity to have the Camaro back, Derek was tempted.
“You know you want it” Stiles taunted as he continued to dangle the keys in front of Derek’s face.
Derek snatched the keys out of Stiles hands before Stiles had a chance to jerk his arm backwards.
“2000 bucks” Derek said pocketing the keys.
“Are you crazy? A thousand tops” Stiles countered.
“$3000” Derek shrugged.
“Fine $1500.”
“$2500 and the Camaro with signed documents showing the transfer of the car in my name” Derek replied crossing his arms telling Stiles that was his final offer.
“Ugh fine!” Stiles exclaimed throwing his hands up in the air in defeat. “First thing Monday morning, I’m in jail, you’re $2500 richer with a fucking car. Life is perfect for you isn’t it?”
Stiles moved to open the door to usher Derek out. Only Derek turned on his heels walking back further into Stiles apartment ignoring Stiles mouth hanging open.
“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?” Stiles called out to Derek’s retreating form. “Door is this way, are you not familiar with how one works? Basic opening of door, stepping out, and shutting door!”
“You really think I’m going to leave you, so you make a run for it again?” Derek yelled back from the front room.
“What, you think I’m stupid enough to cross state lines when there’s a warrant out for my arrest? Thanks but I don’t need to give my dad a fucking heart attack about harbouring a fugitive” Stiles muttered following after Derek.
“Wouldn’t put anything past you” Derek solemnly replied.
Stiles chose to ignore whatever it was Derek was trying to imply and instead said “So what, you plan to stay here all weekend?”
“That’s the plan. Where you go, I go.”
“This is ridiculous” screamed Stiles as he headed back towards his bedroom. “I’m going to shower, would you like to check to make sure the windows are locked in case I decide to tie my bed linens together and propel down the side of the building?” questioned Stiles.
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Then make yourself useful and clean up the mess you made in my god damn bedroom” Stiles yelled back.
Of course, Derek didn’t bother cleaning up after himself knowing it would drive Stiles crazy. He was right as he heard Stiles swearing under his breath as he made his way back towards the kitchen carrying Derek’s dirty dishes and putting them in the dish washer. Derek was sure he heard something along the lines of “glad to see things haven’t changed” - not that he could be sure.
TBC.
Chapter 4|