Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf.
A/N: This fic is an AU. Uh, it pretty much explains itself as the story goes. But I rather enjoy it. This story is all thanks to Riina. Seriously, much like almost anything I write for Teen Wolf. So many thanks to Riina. Anyway, I'll let you read it. Hope you enjoy.

Derek looked through the grate of the police car, leaning forward he said, "Just so you know, I'm not afraid of you."

Stiles put his hand up, fingers reaching through the grating. "Well that's good to know, Derek." He grinned.

His smile threw Derek off, he had read files about "Stiles" Stilinski. The man who had terrorised areas of the West Coast, killing seemingly random people. But his smile was friendly, almost playful. He let off an air of someone who has too much energy and would be best friends with puppies. But Derek knew better, he knew that Stiles wasn't what he seemed. "Agent Hale."

Stiles' grin widened. "Yes sir, Agent Hale, sir."

Derek turned around, "Just shut up, Stilinski." He started driving down the road, constantly looking in the mirror to make sure that Stiles was still there.

Derek had been chasing Stiles for a while now, following the trail of blood. Everyone was so surprised that Stiles had been the one doing the murders. "Are you sure? Not that sweet boy, Stiles. Your evidence has to be wrong." "But he made such lovely cookies." "Are you saying that if I had said that gay guys didn't found him attractive he would've killed me? I'm confused." But Derek always told them that his evidence wasn't wrong, he used his mother's recipe and there is thought that maybe she was his first victim they weren't one hundred percent on that, no he wouldn't have killed you he just was wondering if you found him attractive.

Derek had thought he was hallucinating at first, because the silhouette he saw along the side of the road looked like Stiles, but it couldn't be. There was no way that it could be. Only as Derek drove by, he glanced and saw that yes, it was. Putting on his turn signal, he pulled over and waited for Stiles to catch up. Derek was glad he was in an unmarked car, it hoped it appeared as if he was a concerned citizen who was willing to give Stiles a ride to the nearest town. And he figured that he did appear that way as Stiles was running up to the car.

Stiles was also probably planning on how to kill him and just take the car.

Derek didn't let Stiles get much of a chance. Stiles came to his window, which was down, and as soon as Stiles started saying a greeting, Derek turned and pushed the door open quickly, knocking Stiles down on the ground and then pointed his gun at Stiles' head. "You're under arrest."

Stiles blinked from where he was laying, a small cut on his cheek started to bleed, having been cut on a small rock. "Derek? You got a new car. Traded in? Fancy that. I like the new one. Very you. Y'know, as it's black. You like the color black, I've noticed."

Stiles soon found himself in the back of the car. He'd let himself be manhandled by Derek with glee. He'd done research on the team that was looking for him, know your enemy and all that. But Derek was his favorite out of the bunch, and not just because of his looks, but because he had a good record and his values were important to him. He'd never taken any bribes even though he'd been offered some big ones. An honorable agent.

Stiles liked that.

Reminded Stiles of his dad, who was the best Sheriff ever.

Stiles knew that it was strange that his father was the Sheriff and he was a serial killer. But his father could have done nothing to prevent it. Mostly because he started killing after his father died. He had watched from the shadows as his father was gunned down by a gang. It didn't take Stiles long to get information about the people who murdered his dad, and even less time to create a plan that would work. He'd gone in and slaughtered the people who took his father from him.

He was fifteen at the time.

And the murders when down as part of a gang war.

He had moved in with his friend Scott then, as he didn't have any family left and the McCalls had enough room in the house for a few more years. He was always grateful for them, and he hoped he didn't break their hearts when he went under investigation for murders.

Their hearts were probably broken though, not as bad as Stiles' heart, but he didn't like to think about other people's hearts being hurt. Well, people he cared about anyway.

"So," Stiles said, dragging the word out, "are we going somewhere fun, Derek? Like Disneyland? We can totally go to Disneyland."

"It's Agent Hale and no." Derek said, focusing on his driving. "If I took you to Disneyland you'd probably end up killing Donald Duck."

"Pfff." Stiles scoffed, "Nah, I love Donald. It's Micky who gets on my nerves." Stiles said.

Derek snorted. "I wish I knew if you were joking or not."

"I never joke about murder." Stiles winked at him in the mirror.

Derek drove on and Stiles filled the silence with rambling talk, Derek never answered his questions and he didn't respond to the barbs Stiles said. His hands did grip the steering wheel tighter though. "And, y'know, I understand why you go into the law business after what happened to your family-"

Derek slammed on the breaks, ignoring Stiles' sound of pain as he shot forward in the seat. "What."

"Dude, chill. It's not like I'm the one who set that fire. Or the one who killed your sister. Or your uncle." Stiles said, lifting his hands to his lips to see if they were bleeding from where he hit the grating. "I was busy in Beacon Hills at the time."

"How do you know about that." Derek growled.

"About what?" Stiles asked, blinking innocently.

"My family." Derek said. His past wasn't something easily found. Not the truth. Hardly anyone knew that a serial killer set fire to his house, and that years later his uncle had gone crazy and killed his sister before Derek had to kill him. No newspapers reported the facts completely and only his FBI file mentioned it and the way Stiles was talking, he knew the truth.

"Oh, that." Stiles rolled his eyes, "You don't think I didn't do my research right? On you and rest of the team. Or the pack. I like calling the team a pack. The Hale pack. Or the Stiles pack! Because you were looking for me."

"How. Did. You. Find. Out." Derek forced out.

Stiles shrugged, "I liked to hack into the FBI database because of reasons. Like I said, the research, also I liked to know how close you were to catching me or what you knew." He paused, his voice going quiet, "And just so you know, I didn't kill my mom. She wasn't my first victim. I was in the backyard with Scott when she fell down the stairs."

"And you think I believe that story?" Derek asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Dude! I have a witness. I just said Scott was there." Stiles yelled.

"Scott is not the best witness." Derek said, "He's an idiot."

Stiles sighed, "My first kill was three years after she died, okay? And before you do the math and ask, no. I didn't kill my dad either. Okay, I don't kill people I care about."

"Good to know you can have feelings." Derek said, starting to drive again.

"I have feelings. Like, I have so many feelings about that show Supernatural? Sad feelings, do you watch the show? No, let me tell you-"

Derek sighed and hoped that Stiles would pass out from exhaustion soon. He had to, what with how fast he was talking.

As the day progressed, Stiles managed to wrangle Derek into actually having a conversation with him, it was a long car ride. It was the problem of finding Stiles along the side of the road in a stretch of desert. only a few gas stations on the way to town. Derek growled at him whenever Stiles made a flirty comment, but it never deterred him.

"I'm hungry, dude." Stiles said, leaning forward.

"Its Agent Hale." Derek said, "You'll have to wait."

"Another two hours?" Stiles groaned, "That's super long. I promise that if you pull over at the next random diner along the side of the road I won't run away. Because like, you run faster than me. And then you'd tackle me and that would probably hurt and I already have a bruise from when you hit me with the car door, do you want to see the bruise man? It's huge."

"Fine." Derek growled, "If you shut up, and do as you're told we can eat at the next roadside diner."

"Yay."

It wasn't much longer when they came upon one that just proclaimed 'Diner'. It was a small place and Derek liked that if Stiles tried, there wouldn't be very many people to take hostage and only one exit.

"Aw, come on, man." Stiles said as Derek just glared at him when he asked if he could lose the handcuffs. "How can I eat like this?"

"Easily." Derek said, "They're staying on or you're not eating."

"Fine." Stiles sighed, "Long as I can get some curly fries."

Stiles had let out a cheer when he saw that the diner actually had curly fries. Derek hadn't looked at his menu long and gave glares at anyone who watched them, clearly wondering about the handcuffs.

Stiles didn't let silence settle as they waited for their food, talking about how he really likes apples, to the fact that he prefered to use knives but he would kill people using whatever was around if he needed too, to the fact that most hotels had really scratchy sheets.

"You really aren't helping your case. Talking about the murders you did to the Agent who arrested you." Derek interrupted.

Stiles shrugged, "I've seen the evidence you have on me. Besides, it's not like me killing people is a guilty pleasure that I try to hide and deny." He paused, "Ooh, curly fries." He clapped his hands as they food was placed in front of them.

Stiles was quieter as he ate, shoving food in his mouth. Derek starred in a horrified fascination. Shaking his head, he started eating.

He was about halfway through is food when he started feeling the effects, and apparently they could be seen. "Holy shit, man." Stiles said, "You're all pale and shaky and seem to be having trouble breathing are-" he paused and then raised his voice so that the staff could hear him, "What kind of oil do you use? Is it peanut oil?"

The response was positive.

"Derek, you're allergic to peanuts." Stiles told him.

"I know." Derek wheezed. "In the car, I have an epipen. I need you to go get it, cause I'm going to die without it."

Stiles froze for a second. He knew that he would never be able to escape Derek and he would be put in prison for life. That wasn't a life he was looking forward to. He could take the car now, Derek had given him the keys because it was locked, and leave Derek to die. It wouldn't even be one of his kills, it wouldn't be his fault. He'd be free. And without Hale, the Pack would be lost. He could go on with his life.

But Derek was a good agent.

And Stiles cared about him.

Not only did he really like how good of an agent he was, but he liked the guy. He wanted to have a friendship with Derek, maybe more. He knew it wasn't going to happen because he was killer and Derek, as stated, was a good agent.

But Stiles didn't kill people he cared about.

Running to the car, he quickly grabbed the two epipens he saw and rushed back inside. Derek was looking even worse now, uncapping one of the epipens, he administered it and then rested the other one on the table by him, "I'll use your car radio to call an ambulance. They'll reach here faster that way, knowing that an agent is down." Patting him on the shoulder he said, "I'll be right back."

By the look on Derek's face, Derek knew that he was lying.

Stiles did call for an ambulance, but he didn't go back into the diner. Driving would be slightly hard to do in handcuffs, but he would manage. Maybe after he got far enough away he could pick the lock with something. He'd also have to drop Derek's car as soon he could.

By the time that Derek found his car, abandoned in an airport parking lot, he saw a note in Stiles' handwriting. 'See you on the flipside.'

TWO YEARS LATER

NICE, FRANCE

"Hello Agent Hale."