Chapter Text
Stiles chewed the edge of his finger, tapping out an endless rhythm on the steering wheel of the Jeep. Two more minutes and he’d go home. Two more minutes – no, that would make time an even number. Okay, 4 more minutes, 12:02PM. He had to be at work at one o’clock anyway.
There! He grabbed his notebook and swung out of the Jeep, rushing across the street.
“Derek! So, let’s talk about the squirrels.”
Derek tossed his pizza box on top of the car while he pulled out his keys. “Let’s not.”
“C’mon, look. There are dead squirrels everywhere. You can’t drive down any road without swerving. Car accidents are up, Derek! I killed 4 squirrels on my way to the library this morning!”
“You’re a true hunter.”
“This doesn’t strike you as odd? They are suicidal. Just look at these statistics, I-“
“Stiles! No. They’re just squirrels. It doesn’t mean anything. Go…I don’t know, go swimming or something. There’s no big mystery happening.”
“You know how you can do that stupid werewolf lie detector test? I know when you’re lying to me too.”
“How would you know that?”
“Because you’re always lying to me. Now, would you just –“
“Good bye Stiles.”
“Wait, just one –aaghhh.”
“Good bye Stiles.”
“Wait, seriously, you forgot—“
Derek nudged him back with the open door and climbed in, glaring until Stiles shut his mouth.
Stiles put his hands up in defeat and backed away. “Alright, you win.”
Derek smiled.
When he rounded the corner of High Street the pizza box flew off the top of the car and sent pepperoni slices all over the Post Office parking lot. It was immediately beset by squirrels.
***************************************
Derek managed to duck Stiles for another two weeks. It’s not like he’s doing anything cowardly like hiding or anything.
There may have been an incident involving the local ice cream shop and hiding behind a telephone pole but to be fair Stiles had the notebook with him. That stupid notebook full of graphs and charts and pages of spindly writing all highlighted in fluorescent greens and yellows.
Once he’d made the mistake of indulging in a friendly bro-nod at the grocery store only to have Stiles corner him against the baby carrots when he whipped the notebook out from under a bag of potatoes in his cart.
He hated the notebook. He was doing the right thing. He’d let Erica and Boyd make their own choices, he’d bonded with Isaac over sports and obscure band references, he’d taught Jackson control over his shift. He’d left McCall and his friends alone to enjoy their summer like the carefree teenagers they were. He’d gotten an apartment, he’d sent Deaton a fruit basket for his help, he’d let Peter pick out his stupid bed sheets. Didn’t that earn him any good karma with the universe?
“Derek, I know you’re in there! Isaac told me where to find you.”
Derek glared mulishly at the door.
“Dude, your car is parked out front.”
“Maybe I went for a midnight jog.”
“Your kitchen light is on. I could see you in there.”
“Derek’s not here. I broke in to steal his TV.”
“Come on, Isaac told me the only people that come over are him and Jackson. You don’t even have a TV, you only have that stupid old Mac that Peter gave you. Which pains me to no end, by the way, I’m a PC all the way.”
He weighed his options. Either he could stare at the door until Stile went away, which could be anywhere from an hour to never, or he could listen to his rant about the butterflies or whatever was going insane today. He chose the door, unlocking and swinging it open to lean against the jamb.
“Maybe I was having sex.”
He smiled at Stiles gaping face. At least something shut him up. Wait, that’s not –
“Considering the number of occupants currently in your apartment, if you were having sex I’m definitely going to need you to wash your hands before we talk.”
“More squirrel deaths?”
Stiles squinted up at the ceiling and run a hand over his hair. “Well, I was thinking more about werewolf deaths?”
“Isaac told you something.”
“Uh, Isaac told me everything."