Welcome to The Happy Hale Hotel. A place to relax, soak in the hot tub, catch a movie, and maybe fall in love.
A Sterek AU where Derek and Stiles meet under less-than-ideal circumstances and fall desperately in love. The only problem is that Derek is too busy running a hotel to notice.
Derek sat in ticket sales, a smile plastered on his face. He was sure it looked fake (and slightly terrifying, if the customers skipping the booth altogether and purchasing their tickets at the snack bar was any indicator) but he couldn't help it. He didn't want to be here. He wouldn't be here if he could help it. He avoided the jobs that involved customer relations like the plague. If Laura hadn't won that bet and forced him to work one objectionable job a month he wouldn't be here. Ever.
He had been sitting there for over three hours, and no one had bought a single ticket from him yet. But he didn't really mind. When he first inherited The Happy Hale Hotel, it seemed like the exact thing he needed. But now, three years later, he was starting to wonder. Nothing had happened with his life, he had done nothing. He was in the exact same place, both physically and mentally, that he had been when his family died. The only thing he'd done in the past three years was fix up the warehouse next door to the hotel into a movie theater, increasing revenue, and so he'd heard, joy from their guests. He hadn't seen it, but as a rule, he avoided people. That in fact, might be the very heart of his problem. He refused to socialize, or experience new things, or go outside and do anything but exercise. He blamed it on owning the hotel, but Laura said (and if Derek were honest he'd agree) that it was his defense mechanism.
His walkie-talkie beeped to life. "Derek? You need to get down here. A piece of the projector fell off." Boyd's deep voice crackled through the system. The thought that Boyd was calling him about the problem was slightly worrisome. As the head of security this wasn't really his area. "Be there in a minute." He got up and locked the booth. He saw a woman casting a relieved glance his way and leading her children by the arm in the opposite direction.
He stomped down the hallway, glaring at everyone. Even one very disconcerted looking Jackson Whittemore. Who really didn't need to be there. Just because he was dating their financial analyst Lydia, he felt he had the right to strut around as if he owned the place. Which he didn't. Because Derek did. Not Him. Before that thought process could continue too much, he reached the door to the theater five projector room. Laura and Boyd stood inside, hunched over the projector together. They had identical looks of confusion of their faces. It almost made Derek laugh. But he didn't because he didn't laugh at things that were cute.
"I don't understand. What does this say?"
"I don't know, Laura. I told you, I don't speak Russian." Laura huffed out her frustration, but didn't answer. She smoothed the instructions with the palm of her hand and bend further over. Derek stood in the doorway, unsure of how to make his presence known. It didn't seem to matter too much. Laura spun around and glared at him. "How long have you been standing there? Never mind! Come here!" She dragged his arm towards the projector. He squeezed himself into the huddle, not certain why they needed him. "Do you know why it broke?" He didn't miss the look Boyd and Laura exchanged. "What. What?"
"Well, umm, we might have—there might have been a kid playing around in here, he knocked the thing over," Derek sighed. Looks like it was up to him to fix things. AGAIN. "Okay, so call Isaac, and get it fixed. Or better yet, fix it yourself. You have the instructions," He pointed to the paper spread out in front of them. Laura fixed him with her terrifying glare. "Maybe if you stopped buying Russian equipment we'd be able to fix it on our own." She stared down at him, and evil smirk tugging the corners of her lips up. "Or, better yet, if you're going to buy Russian equipment, learn to speak Russian so you can fix it yourself!" Laura spat out. Beside her, Boyd blinked calmly. Derek was almost surprised by her venom, but he had known her long enough not to be.
The week after their parents were killed, when the lawyer called to read them the will, Laura had already made plans to sell the Hotel. It wasn't that she didn't love the place, because she really did. God knows she had enough fond memories of it. But she didn't need that. The constant reminder of all she'd lost. She couldn't stand the thought of walking around with her parents' ghosts haunting her everywhere she went. So she was horrified to find out that their parents had left the Hotel to Derek. It had been a source of great jealously for her over the years knowing that he had been picked over her, the oldest child. He did his best to keep her from feeling like she had no control over the place, but sometimes when he looked at her he could see the words their mother had written running through her mind. 'The Hotel I leave to Derek. I know that Laura is the obvious choice for a job with such personal relations work, but Derek has proven to be the more responsible of the two, making better and smarter choices.' What Laura didn't know was that Derek thought about that constantly as well. The thought that his parents had trusted him over Laura, he who had ultimately killed them over his sister who had done nothing but sneak a few boyfriends into empty rooms to make out. He gave his sister a small smile. She retaliated with more yelling. But this time it had a playful undertone.
"I told you not to keep buying crappy-ass soviet-era projectors. If you want them to stop breaking down you should take my advice once-in-a-while." Derek gave her an inquisitive glare. He hoped she hadn't seen the Soviet Russian logo stamped on the side of the shipping crate he'd gotten the projector in. He doubted it. She thought she was sneaky, but he could see right through her. "Just about this, or about everything? 'Cause you know that's never gonna happen." Laura rolled her eyes and patted his head. "Just go fix them. I'll work the slushy stand." Derek picked up the part that had fallen off the projector base, and set off in the direction of the maintenance office. He couldn't even tell where the piece was supposed to reattach, let alone what it even did. Hopefully Danny would have an idea.
x
The maintenance office was little more than a broom closet, really. Minus the broom and plus about six high-tech computers each running different software programs simultaneously, including a game of Tetris on the monitor closest to Derek's left. No wonder the quests were always complaining about the slow wifi. Just looking at the massive amounts of technology that he had never heard of gave Derek a head-ache. He couldn't even work his cell phone. The slow beeping Derek had been hearing since he walked in stopped. The computer mounted on the far wall (the screen showing what looked suspiciously like the NASA homepage) suddenly powered off, and, with a horrible thunk, tipped off its mounting and crashed to the ground below.
A disheveled kid, no more than nineteen maybe, crawled out from underneath the desk and surveyed the wreckage with his hands on his—slender—hips. He made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat, and pulled a screwdriver out of his back pocket. He set about the task of fixing the computer, still either completely ignoring Derek, or completely unaware of his very existence. For some reason, Derek found himself growing angry at that though. He didn't know why, though. This was just some kid whose face he hadn't even seen. Why would this kid not acknowledging him make him so angry?
The guy bent over and pulled the piece of bracketing off the wall too, tossing it into the heap of mess already strewn across the floor. Derek watched the sharp lines of his forearms flex as he lifted the heavy part. A funny feeling grew in the pit of his stomach. One thing was for certain. This kid was no Danny. Derek had never found himself watching Danny in any way other than exasperation. Derek cleared his throat, intent on making his presence known. "Umm, hello?" What he hadn't counted on, however, was the kid jumping up at the noise, turning around with wide eyes, bumping his head on the underside of a computer monitor, and promptly passing out. Derek stood blinking at him for a moment before he gathered his wits enough to gather the kid up in his arms and carry him out of the room.
He hoped he could find Laura before anyone asked what he was doing. His staff put up with a lot from him, but he doubted they would take too kindly to what looked like him kidnapping and killing some guy. The boy in his arms smelled intoxicating. Like fresh pine and snowy air and walks on the beach and wood fire. Derek mentally slapped himself. He needed to stop thinking about the man in his arms as a kid, it was seriously starting to make him feel creepy.
X
"What the hell did you do to him?" Erica shrieked. The second she heard from Boyd that that Derek didn't want anyone in the employee lounge she rushed straight in to yell at him. He didn't know how, but she had this uncanny sense that seemed to tell her every time he'd done something wrong. How else to you explain her sudden need to get into the employee lounge an hour before her lunch break when she was supposed to be working the front desk phones. She was their best customer service rep (usually, right now she was suspended for gross misconduct in the work place. What did that say about the strengths of Derek's employees people skills, he wondered), and he really needed her to man the desk. The holidays were an especially busy time for the Happy Hale Hotel (A name that, yes, nearly everyone questioned when they saw his smiling face working the lobby).
Derek shrugged helplessly. "I didn't do anything! I just….said hi." He trailed off. She would never let him live this one down. Erica tossed her blond curls over her shoulder. "Oh sweetie. You didn't SMILE did you? You know we've been working on that. This—" She clenched her jaw and curled her lip back, showing him her teeth in the best rapid dog impression he'd seen since there had actually been a rabid dog loose in The Happy Hale. "—is not a smile." He just stared at her, determined to wait her out. She always wilted before too long and reverted back to the polite, respectful girl he had first hired. At least, for a little while.
"Okay, okay. In all seriousness. Where did he get hit?" Derek shrugged helplessly again. "How am I supposed to know? I'm not a doctor!"
"So call someone who is!" That was great advice. Why didn't Derek think of that? Oh right. Because he doesn't know any doctors. All of his friends are barely out of their teens and wouldn't even have a job if it wasn't for his avid dislike of meeting, talking to, or even being around strangers preventing him from hiring anyone actually qualified for the job. Erica cocked an eyebrow and looked at him with a smirk that said 'I know exactly what you're thinking right now.' The think was, she usually did.
"Jesus! Call Isaac for god's sake! He has medical training!" Yeah, from a vets office. But it was better than nothing. Overworked, out of his depth, worried about the life of a teenage boy, and still waiting on his sister, Derek grabbed the rotary phone on the counter and dialed Isaac Lahey. He picked up on the second ring. "Hello? If this is about the car, I swear I'm—" Derek narrowed his eyes, but didn't ask what he meant. He didn't own a car; therefore Isaac must mean Laura's. And he'd found that it was better to know nothing than even two words when it came to something Laura would be angry about. "It's not." Isaac stopped talking immediately. Derek could see Erica smirking at him with her trademark, 'Way to go Derek, all those lessons I've been wasting my time giving you about how to communicate have really paid off.' Smirk. She had so many of those that Derek was one step away from driving her to the patent office for Christmas. Not that she was in any danger of someone stealing the look. Derek doubted there was a single person on earth save possibly Lydia Martin who could do it both correctly, and have it communicate what they meant like she could.
"Oh, hi Derek. What's up?" Isaac's voice had become the nervous fidgety tone he used whenever he talked to Derek. He hadn't even sounded like that when he'd been worried it was Laura calling about her car. Derek squashed down the quilt rising in his stomach. Now was not the time to get into his blame issues. "Can you get down here? I may have killed a kid." He made to put down the receiver, but stopped when he saw Erica. She was staring at him, eyes wide. He could hear the breathing on the other end of the phone go ragged with worry. Apparently it wasn't enough information to tell someone that you may have accidentally killed somebody. They had to know all the details before they would help you. "I….you—what?" Isaac stuttered. Derek didn't have to time to wonder how this was affecting their maintenance man, what with his mother and brothers murders still being unsolved and all.
"He hit his head and passed out. I need your help." Derek could hear the wheels working in Isaac's head, wanting to ask more questions but telling himself not too. Finally, the internal struggle seemed to end. "Did YOU hit him on the head?" The boy asked. Derek almost chuckled, but that probably wouldn't have been very reassuring, so he refrained. "No. Just get down here! Employee lounge. Now!" Derek slammed the receiver down hard. Hopefully Isaac would get here before Laura did. Now that the initial panic was starting to wear off, Derek was hell-bent on keeping his sister from finding out about what had happened. He didn't need more criticism on his managerial skills. He glanced down at the sleeping kid; he looked even younger than he had when he was awake. Derek sighed and tried to ignore the knot in his stomach. Hopefully Isaac would get here soon so he didn't have to be alone with not-Danny any longer. He didn't like the way he felt around this kid.
"I'm here, I'm here!" Derek whirled around, thankful for only the second time in his life to see Isaac Lahey. "What's wrong with him?" He pointed at the unconscious boy on the couch of the employee lounge. Isaac gave him the look he'd been getting so often today. "Derek, please remember that not only have I not seen him yet, but I also have volunteer veterinary training from a small town vet." Derek cleared his throat. Right. Let Isaac work in peace. The younger man leaned down and rolled the kid onto his back. As soon as his face was visible, Isaac looked shocked. He leaned down to check the kids pulse, and said, "Stiles?"