Heeeeyyy. Lookie what I've started.

I have this really bad habit of fulfilling everyone's dreams writing-wise, so when I saw that people wanted an AU Sterek fic in the Suits universe, I thought 'what the heck, let me give it a try'. So, just fyi I haven't watched Suits since season 1 so this may be a little rusty in a lot of ways - but I hope some of you guys like it cause I'm kind of happy with how it turned out?

Oh and basically I'm too lazy to pair characters from Teen Wolf and characters from Suits soooo you can figure it out on your own :))

"I don't need an associate, Victoria." The words came out as almost a whine - almost, but not totally, because Derek Hale didn't whine. He stated his claim, negotiated.

But Victoria held her ground, towering over him where he sat in his office, all legs and heels and cold, hard stare that meant business. She was probably one of the most inflexible women he'd ever met at times - but then again that was perhaps one of the most prominent reasons he had been hired there at Greenberg and Argent.

Derek stood then, feeling the need to move around, out from under her watchful gaze. "I work better alone, anyway," he insisted, tossing her a look that said sorry-but-true. But it was hardly enough to convince her.

"You're one of the best lawyers in the firm, Derek," Victoria reasoned. "But you're losing your touch and if you want to keep senior partner, you need to do this. And this isn't coming from me." She sighed. "All I'm saying is that you need a little... ego boost."

"Ego boost?" He almost laughed, looking up at her.

"Did I say ego 'boost'? I meant ego leveling out." The redhead clarified, a small smirk forming on her lips. "I've scheduled some interviews for you this afternoon -"

"Victoria -"

"Give it a chance, Derek." She called over her shoulder. "Or lose the position." And with that, she was disappearing through the door before he could protest any further.

Stiles Stilinski wasn't much. A college dropout living in a small apartment in Manhattan, with a brilliant mind, shitty best friend, and making a living off of taking the LSAT for people almost as desperate as himself - all he'd ever wanted was to be an attorney. With a mind like his, it should have been a cakewalk.

But it hadn't been, and without a college degree - let alone a law degree - probably would never be again. Not when he had a sick dad he had to put up in a private hospital and no stable job to do it with. College was just not an option for him at twenty-two years old.

And yet, he had somehow found his way into the office of Derek Hale. The top-notch, most recognized and respected lawyer in New York City, working for the creme-de-la-creme of law firms in New York City.

Well, he more like ran into his office.

Thank that afforementioned shitty best friend for that.

"You're what?"

"It was just a one time thing, man. I was desperate. You can understand that, can't you?"

Stiles Stilinski had only been in the apartment for five minutes before his best friend, Scott, had dumped a whopping load of unsavory information on him. He didn't know what to think at first, but then again it doesn't exactly brighten your day to come home and find out your best friend is a drug dealer/pusher/whatever and wants your help, either.

Scott moved to the table in the middle of the room and lifted the sleek, black briefcase from the top, handing it to his friend, who took it gingerly. He didn't offer any information as to what was inside, but it had combination locks on the top that instantly made Stiles suddenly regret offering his help.

"Just think of it as a little extra cash in your pocket," Scott insisted. The briefcase in Stiles' hand suddenly felt heavy with not only its mysterious contents but the weight of his guilt and own desperation as well. "Think of your dad."

"I am thinking of my dad," Stiles shot back. "How do you think he'll react when he finds out I'm in jail? In jail because of you and your stupid plans -"

"Actually I think he'd finally let out that breath he was holding in, 'cause really, even my mom would have seen it coming." At his words, Stiles rolled his eyes. "So are you in?"

Stiles clenched his teeth, looking from the briefcase in his hands to his best friend's face and swallowing hard. He couldn't believe what he was asking him to do - and even worse, he couldn't believe what he was about to do.

"Fine. What's the plan?"

"Name?"

Stiles blinked a few times, returning to reality. To the fact that he was standing in the same room as Derek Hale. The Derek Hale. But even in the presence of lawyer-loyalty, he could feel the feeling of panic still thrumming in his veins and glanced quickly over his shoulder as he stepped away from the door. It took him a minute to realize that someone was speaking to him.

Derek was watching him from where he stood by the desk that dominated the room. From the way he shut the file he'd been looking through when Stiles had come in, it was clear that he had not been expecting anyone so... soon. But Stiles couldn't help but admire the man: he was all eyebrows, jawline, self-importance, and cold stare - one which had just settled on Stiles himself.

He suddenly became all too aware of the briefcase still in his hands.

And the police that were probably still looking for him.

"Either tell me your name or stop wasting my time." Derek's voice was louder this time around, authoritative.

"Stiles... Stilinski," he said hastily. Geez... had he been staring? "Stiles Stilinski."

"Stiles?"

"Yeah..." A silence hung between them, almost as though Derek was waiting for the punchline, considering the small hint of amusement in his facial features. "That's my name."

Derek considered him for a long moment - this lanky man, cheap suit and all - before taking a few steps towards him. "Fine," he said. "Let's cut to the chase, then. Why do you want to work for Greenberg and Argent? More specifically, me."

Stiles' mouth fell open as his mind registered the words. "Wha- you? Work for you?"

"Yes, me," the words came out as almost a growl. He was getting impatient, which was pretty understandable. Stiles elicited that reaction from a lot of people. "Look, I don't have time for -"

"I've always wanted to be an attorney," Stiles finally said with a shrug, moving across the room to the desk. "It's pretty much the only thing I've wanted to be, like, ever -"

"Well tell me a little about yourself. Where did you go to school?"

Stiles swallowed, before shaking his head. "I... didn't," he began. "Well I did, but I was expelled before I could really complete my studies - Does it really matter?" He added hastily, but he knew it did. Of course he knew that. He'd just spilled the beans about having had bare minimum experience in college in front of Derek Hale.

There was no way in hell he was getting that job now.

"Actually, it does," said Derek, sitting down behind the desk and looking hardly sympathetic as he shook his head. "We only hire from Harvard and you've had no college experience at all -"

"What if I told you something that would make that... that little piece of information seem almost insignificant -"

"Nothing could possibly -"

"- what if I told you I can absorb knowledge like no one else? When I see it, I get it. Just like that." Stiles snapped his fingers to emphasize his point. "I never forget what I've learned." He walked across the room towards the desk. "And I've actually passed the bar."

Derek stared at him for a long moment in silence. Stiles couldn't read his expression - if he did, he would say it was a draw between wanting to believe him, wanting to throw him out of his office, and wanting to hit him over the head with a three-hole punch. Needless to say he was rooting for the first option.

After the moment had passed, Derek rose to his feet (Stiles did not flinch) and moved around the desk, rubbing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "Okay, you're gonna have to prove to me that you're not just showing off before I can believe anything you've just told me," he said finally, looking up at Stiles.

"I can do that," Stiles told him, tossing his briefcase into one of the chairs in front of the desk as he walked around to the opposite side to take Derek's vacated seat. "Shoot."

He fired off all manner of questions - none of which anyone in their right mind would've claimed as 'easy' - and Stiles replied, almost distractedly, answering each without flaw as he messed around on Derek's open laptop. At first he hadn't noticed Stiles' nonchalance, too busy pacing back and forth across the room as he wracked his brain for material, but after a few minutes of drilling him it became pretty obvious.

Derek had been staring at him so long that Stiles was forced to look up from the screen in front of him, looking slightly confused by Derek's impatient look. "What?" Stiles glanced down at the laptop. "Okay, I know it looks like I don't care about this whole 'test of my knowledge' or, you know, whatever you want to call it, but these questions aren't all that challenging."

"Easy for you to say when you've been on a computer the whole time -"

"Yeah, playing Hearts." Stiles spun the laptop around to show Derek the screen, and the card game that he had busied himself with for the past half an hour. "Now do you believe me?"

The man looked torn for another moment, but he couldn't deny - the guy was good. Probably better than himself, if that were even possible. No one was better than Derek Hale, but this guy certainly came close, even considering the fact that he hadn't had much of a college education at all.

Derek moved towards the desk and pressed a button on the phone, his eyes lingering on Stiles for one final moment. "Erica, cancel my other appointments. I've just found my new associate."