It was close to midnight and Derek was in desperate need to get out of his loft currently occupied by his permanent house guest, Isaac, and his friend, Danny, from school. Normally he would tire himself out with a run in the woods but this night he needed to feed his human side instead of his wolf's. He decided to lose himself in the bright lights and noise of the Downtown area in Beacon Hills. And of course, in his pursuit to escape the teenage menaces residing in his living room, he runs into three more.
The trio, comprised of Scott, Allison, and Stiles were sitting on what looked like fold out camping chairs with other people camped out in front of a retail store that stretched around the block. His position across the street left him out in the open, thankfully the group, he begrudgingly thought of as pack, were too involved in whatever they were talking about to notice the lone dark figure standing across the street like the creeper Stiles never stopped calling him. The amount of chatter by everyone lined around the block made it difficult for Derek to focus on their voices. And with the mingling scents of all the people crowded together, he didn't expect Scott would be able to pick him out of the crowd.
Before Derek had the chance to decide whether to continue with his stroll downtown or to show he wasn't raised by wolves (at least not in the way Stiles meant it) and greet them, he was spotted by Stiles, who flags him over with his arms like they were on fire. Scott, with Allison on his lap, seems too preoccupied to notice Stiles' exaggerated movements. Derek makes his path to the teenagers, having little hope to walk away unscathed from yet another argument with Scott about his leadership skills or the problem of the week they'll soon be facing. They're way past due for something big and bad; it's been nearly six blissfully dull weeks without any incident.
"Well, if it isn't tall, dark, and brooding." Stiles announces with a self-satisfied grin slouching back in his seat when Derek closes the distance between them.
Derek's only response is a raised eyebrow while Scott groans loudly, finally losing the undivided attention given to his girlfriend to say, "Dude, no. Don't ruin Batman for me!"
Allison saw the mild look of confusion on Derek's face and explained, "It was a quote by Catwoman to describe Batman."
"Which he definitely isn't because Batman is pure awesome. The complete opposite of him."
A growl begins to emit from Derek before he realizes they are out in public. Deciding to keep this (hopefully) short catch up civil, Derek kept things light by asking, "Is there a reason why all of you are sitting out here in the dead of night?"
"Aren't you living with Isaac?" Scott asks, further feeding the misconception that Isaac isn't a parasite living off of Derek. "Shouldn't you know what's coming out at midnight?"
"Maybe I was wrong to compare you to the world's greatest detective." Stiles mumbled to himself but was heard by Derek as a scowl made its way to his face. Along with a possible headache to his temple with the amount of work it looks like it will take to get a simple answer from the people he reluctantly called allies.
Allison relieved Derek of his ensuing headache by answering his question. "We're waiting in line for the new Batman game. The last one of the series."
The deep scowl dissipated from his face as Derek remembered Danny and Isaac talking about preloading a game being the reason his show was buffering every two minutes. He made a mental note to increase his bandwidth if he was going to continue to house a download sucking black hole for a squatter. It wasn't the first time this problem happened and it was sure to not be the last.
A thought came to surface that he voiced, "Can't you just download it, like Isaac, instead waiting out here for it?"
Stiles quickly whipped out his phone and revealed his reason for being there. "See that? Gun metal limited edition Playstation 4", he explained with clear reverence in his voice. "And the first thirty people who buy a copy get a sweet 15-inch Batman figure," a swipe of Stiles' finger presented his heart's desire. "Finally." He turned the screen away from Derek to stare longingly at the picture. "I can get my filthy hands all over the Dark Knight." Stiles proceeded to close his eyes while rubbing the phone against his face, releasing a soft moan. "And we're numbers 28 and 29."
"You're leaving out a number," motioning a nod of his head to the direction of Allison.
"Oh, I'm just here for support. Plus, I'll be playing alongside with Scott. He usually needs my help with the puzzle sections," she whispered, even with her position on his lap and knowledge of his supernatural capabilities.
"Allison!" Scott hissed through gritted teeth. A simple shrug was given by his girlfriend while Stiles chuckled lightly.
"What? That's what I'm here for. We're a team, like Batman and Robin." She squeezed her arms around Scott minutely to placate him.
"More like Nightwing and Batgirl," Stiles corrected. "If Derek is Batman, then you're totally Nightwing, especially with how much you resent him after he sorta mentored you."
"Quit calling him Batman, Stiles."
Ignoring him Stiles continues, "And Allison is a certifiable badass like Batgirl."
"Aw, thanks." Her bright smile, along with the sight of her curling Scott's slightly grown out hair completely disguising her insane hunter skills.
"Dude, wouldn't you be more like Batgirl?" Scott's question submitted in Stiles' direction. "Daughter of a police commissioner; son of a sheriff. Both lying to your dad about the secret double life you live."
"Also, in love with Nightwing." Stiles added to Scott's comparison to effectively negate that debate.
"Oh, right. Well…there was that time during Danny's birthday party in the fourth grade…" Scott contemplated out loud.
Stiles instinctively glanced at Derek after Scott's revelation and sat straight up from his slouched position wanting the chance explain to Derek's judge-y eyebrows before thoughts become fully formed images. "Spin the bottle! Just a tiny peck. So don't judge, big guy."
"Did I say anything?" Derek asked.
"Your face did. With the whole," Stiles proceeded to contort his own eyebrows with his fingers trying to push them in place to match Derek's, "not-so-silently judging thing they do."
The exchange between the two brings back Scott's comparison to Batgirl. "Hey. How about the crush Batgirl has on—"
"TV show, Scott!" Stiles quickly rebuked to stop any further embarrassment on his part. "We're sticking to the game universe! That was the animated series." Once again without his consent he looks at Derek to see his reaction. To his relief, it seems the reference is lost on Derek if his passive appearance is anything to go by. That is the last time Stiles makes the mistake of confiding in Scott about his completely out of the blue sex dream starring a certain pack member. A one-time occurrence. That maybe happened a few times after. "So, what brings you out here? Late-night shopping for a shirt in a shade of grey you actually don't own?" A smile widens on Stiles and his company's face as they notice the dark grey Henley worn under his black leather jacket.
"Funny," Derek said without even a slight tone of humor in his voice. "This about the only place open right now that isn't selling food."
Allison interjects, "Actually, there's a store that sells some kinky stuff on Main Street that's still open." The group flash surprise at her comment. "But they do sell edible—You know what, not gonna finish that statement."
"Can you teach Stiles that trick?" Derek requests.
"Har, har. Stick to your name, sourwolf, and let me handle the wisecracks while you take a load off here," patting the empty seat between him and the couple, "and keep up the brooding. You don't mind, right, Allison?"
"I mind." Scott injects.
"I said Allison." Allison gave her approval and snuggled tighter to show how content she was seated Scott's lap, and to calm Scott as a side effect.
"Well, it's either this or hang out at a bar. And since I can't get drunk…," Derek debates as he takes the seat offered to him. "And an added bonus of annoying Scott."
Before he can even relax, in the admittedly very comfy camping chair, a guy sitting behind Scott and Allison takes notice of Derek's new position. "Hey, no cuts!" The guy yells vehemently, who looks close to age of the teens in the group.
"Take it easy, Rudy, before you give yourself a coronary." Stiles supplies knowing it won't really appease his classmate.
"Shove it, Stilinski! I've been waiting here just as long and I'm not walking home alone without that Batman figure."
"With or without it, dude, you were always destined to go home alone." Stiles remarks.
"Glass houses, Stilinski. Glass houses." Rudy counters. It seems to be the rare time when something shuts Stiles' mouth. His inability to make a comeback of any kind causes Derek to do a double take at the silent teen, which Stiles would have found funny had he not cast his eyes toward the ground in embarrassment. Nothing like being told you're basically terminally single in front of a maybe, sort of crush. "If Vampire Diaries over there doesn't move to the back of the line, then I'm calling security to have the both of you removed." A low growl surfaced from Derek, who didn't take kindly to threats. Or being compared to a network TV show. If anything he was a cable show, he's worth the extra money.
"Rudy, you have my word that my friend here is just joining us to hang out. No purchases will be made on his part," a sweet smile followed Allison's promise to her classmate.
"Okay, fine, he can stay. After all, you did agree to help me with my French, so here's my way of saying 'gracias'."
"Merci, Rudy." Allison tried to correct.
"De nada, fräulein." Rudy said, mixing up his languages – neither being close to the one he wanted to it to be.
"You do remember I charge by the hour, right?" Allison informed her language challenged classmate.
Back on his game, Stiles responds with, "You may want to save that Bat money for study seshs there, Rudy."
"My ass, your lips. Connect the two, Stilinski. Sorry for the language, Allison."
"I wouldn't touch you to scratch you, pal."Giving Stiles the final word.
With the situation defused and Rudy occupied with whatever show played on his tablet, Derek asked Stiles, "Any reason that guy seems to hate you? Other than the obvious?"
"What did we say about the wisecracks, sourwolf?"
"Fine, tell me or I'll rip your throat out with my teeth?" Of course Scott picks now to start whispering into Allison's ear. Neither available for rescuing if said threat should ever be put into effect.
"That's…better? Anyway, he thinks I'm responsible for a science fair he lost in the fifth grade. That's the problem with a cradle to grave town like Beacon Hills, once you've made someone's shit list it's most likely for life and you're guaranteed to keep bumping into them."
"But was it your fault?"
"If it was, not saying it was, but if…in my defense, at the time I hadn't been diagnosed yet with ADD. And I'll leave it at that." Derek either satisfied with the answer or too disinterested to push further, hard to tell, doesn't try to pry more out of Stiles. "Eggroll? Made 'em myself," he whips out a container from behind him and reveals a few eggrolls left in the large Tupperware. "Too bad you missed the curly fries, hotwings, and onion rings. We turned this Monday night into a 'Fry-day' night. See what I did there, fry as in—"
"Yeah, Stiles. Comedy genius," Derek deadpans as he snatches a roll out the container.
"I think my dad teared up a bit knowing he wouldn't be able to eat any of it." Seeing Derek's eyebrows reach new heights after biting into the fried food was making Stiles laugh at the sight. "Right? Try it with the duck sauce to really blow your mind, dude." He handed the dipping sauce to Derek and noticed how he wasn't reprimanded on his use of the word 'dude'. As Derek tried the eggroll with the sauce, a loud, indulgent moan escaped his closed mouth and a watery gulp was followed by Stiles. Both actions drew the attention of Allison and Scott as well as people close by waiting on the line.
As soon as Derek noticed being the center of attention a booming, "What?" was unleashed by him that sent everyone's gazes back to their original places.
"(nana nana nana nana nana nana nana nana) Batman!" Stiles' text alert broke the silence left behind by Derek's outburst. Stiles tossed the container into Derek's lap and retrieved the source of the theme music. He looked at his phone and conveyed the message to the group, "Got a text from Danny saying they're almost done pre-loading on Steam."
"I'm never finishing Pretty Little Liars," Derek quietly mutters, knowing Scott is too lost in commenting on Allison's 'adorable' dimples, as he picks up another eggroll.
"By the way, Danny would make a great Oracle being the tech wizard we've grown to love and exploit. Right, Miguel?" Stiles flashed a smile at Derek, while the man chomped down hard on the eggroll as he recalled 'trying on' several shirts (and a few shorts) to gain the tech genius' help. "And Isaac can be the Robin to your Batman. You basically adopted him, minus any type of legal documentation."
"He's not Batman, Stiles. You're gonna make me cancel my preorder, dude." Scott says, picking that moment to pay attention to the conversation between Derek and Stiles.
"You really have some great selective hearing, buddy. You didn't even hear that Derek watches—," a deep growl from everyone's favorite alpha cuts Stiles short. "Easy , Rover, or no more treats." A final bite of the eggroll in hand leaves Derek with one left. "Scott, just deal with it. The car, the mansion, the permanent frown, 'inhuman' reflexes, frequently appearing out of nowhere. All the time!" referring to Derek's numerous impromptu house calls to Stiles late in the night. "The dude is a living, breathing version of the big, bad Bat. "
"And the blue eyes." Allison submits as evidence of Derek's Batman qualification. No one wanting to state another qualification being his orphan status at a young age molding him into the man he is today.
"Alison, don't help him." Scott pleads, not wanting anymore comparisons between the two.
"Actually they're more of a green but can take on a hazel or blue color in the right light." His description casts an invisible spotlight on him by his friends. "What? I'm usually shoved close enough to notice. See? Another Bat-trait, with the manhandling like I'm a criminal that needs interrogating."
The previously unknown info causes Scott to flash his golden eyes briefly. "He did what?" Scott asks menacingly.
"Take it down a thousand, buddy. It was a couple…few times and there never was any bruising or serious harm. Just some playful rough housing." Shrugging to show how not a big deal it actually is.
"Roughing up an innocent person trying to help sounds like another non-Bat quality to me," Scott said, visibly calming down knowing his friend was never in true danger but still shooting glares at Derek.
"Hey, Peter could be the Joker to your Batman…on second thought, let's forget I mentioned him. It's too nice of a night to ruin it."
"It was until Derek showed up."
"Actually if you want to throw some blame around it was even better before my laptop died and the two of you," waggling a hand at Scott and Allison, "started making googly eyes at each other for the rest of the night. So, thanks Scott for forgetting the backup battery. One job, Scott. One." Another text from Danny disrupted Stiles' venting. "From Danny: Would have been so much faster at my place. Frowny face."
"Why isn't he at his place? Instead of me being here getting the stink eye from Scott every five minutes." Derek voiced his thoughts after hearing Danny's text.
"Because in addition to being like Oracle, Danny is also like Two-Face. Normally he's the sweet, lovable Danny we all know but when he plays games he gets…pretty ugly verbally. It was so bad his parents banned games from being played at his house. Personally, I think that's why he's best friends with Jackson. Dude's got a dark side." Stiles answered.
"If we're comparing our friends to villains, Lydia has to be Poison Ivy," she lets an honest to God snort that would have made Urkel proud. Guilt overtakes her features a moment later after realizing what she said and quickly clarifies her point, "Because, uh, she can turn any guy under her spell."
"Not me." Both Scott and Derek announce leaving no room for doubt in their statement.
"Almost any guy," she amends.
The werewolves don't detect it but Stiles squints his eyes as he closely observes Allison telling a half truth. Derek doesn't seem to notice, further proving not to be comparable to Batman in detective skills. But Stiles has to know if his once (imaginary) future wife has a hidden, dark secret that Allison appears to know. "That's not what you meant though, is it? When you called her Poison Ivy." He grins as he sees her squirm on top of Scott. "Remember, I've got two lie detectors here. And don't bother with another half truth. You can throw them off with that but not me, missy."
Scott came to his girlfriend's defense. "Come on, Stiles. If she doesn't want to tell then don't make her. Besides, she didn't actually say if she knew something."
"That's because you won't let her speak!" Stiles was now leaning forward in his seat, excitement radiating off him. "Allison," he goaded.
"Let it go, Stiles." Calmly said by Derek, figuring he owed her a bit for the persistently kind attitude toward him despite the bad blood between their families (and boyfriend). His defense surprised everyone but didn't stop Stiles' interrogation, only paused his pursuit for the truth.
"Can't do, big guy. This is juicy stuff, I can feel it. About Lydia Martin," saying her name slowly hoping to capture the importance of the info Allison was allegedly withholding. Pointing to the last eggroll, Stiles tells him, "And if you don't want that to be your last one ever, you won't bite the hand that feeds you." After looking down at the solitary item in the container clutched in his hands, Derek presses his mouth into a thin line and furrows his brows in defeat.
"Stiles, I'm not telling you." Allison said crossing her arms and whipping out her hunter face she wore when battling man-lizards, rogue alphas, and psycho family members, looking extremely fierce – a hard thing to do with Scott's hand cradling her hips.
Stiles didn't stand a chance at getting what he wanted through badgering and nagging. He knew it was futile but it should be known that Stiles is not one to go down without a fight. One last move was all he had. "Look, it's just little ol' me. You know I'd never do anything mean or hurtful with whatever it is you're keeping secret. And you're a great friend to hold tight to it. But I feel we've become a weird little family, a pack – this one over here would say," using thumb to indicate Derek. "And families can tell secrets, embarrassing ones, to each other. We laugh. We fight," Scott and Derek take a glance at each other, "and no matter what, we're always there for each other. So, come on. What's one little secret between family?"
Allison didn't look for confirmation of sincerity from Scott's ability to detect lies. She had firsthand experience at what this pack was willing to do for each other. "Dammit, Stiles. Okay," she relented.
Stiles lit up like Christmas tree after cracking Allison's resolve, and muttered, "Come to kitty." His comment resulted with a confused look from Derek.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, "Before I came here, Lydia's only real friend was her houseplant. Gardenias she has in her room." Her pack gives a look of skepticism about this new fact about the most popular girl in their high school. "It's true. It was the only living thing she could talk open and honestly with about being a genius, her parents, Jackson, everything. She didn't say, but I think it might've been for years. That's why I said she would be Poison Ivy."
"Whoa," Scott articulated.
"Man, that was just…I thought it was gonna be something like mistaking poison ivy leaves for something else and getting a full body rash. But I guess she would be too smart for that. Seems more like a Scott thing."
"Dude!"
A shrug was given to Scott before he finished with, "Geez." Several seconds of silence pass as the group ponders over the Lydia they know, or thought they knew, with the image of a desperately lonely girl looking to a plant as a confidant. The eyes of Stiles suddenly bug out and his finger shoots forward at Allison. "Wait a sec, you laughed at her. You laughed at her horribly sad story. That's why you feel guilty. Damn, that is kinda cold."
"I didn't mean it! Now see why you can't tell anyone. Promise me." Not requesting for Stiles' discretion and staring directly at Stiles despite Derek and Scott also being privy to the secret.
"Dude, why are you only looking at me?"
"Who guilted me into talking and wouldn't let it go?" She argued.
"Of course, I'll keep it quiet. I swear on Batman. The statue. Not Derek." Raising a left hand and covering his heart with the other in a sign of honor.
Quiet washed over after Allison felt secured with Stiles' promise and of all of them to break it, Derek asked, "Who would you be?"
Stiles, caught off guard lost in his thoughts, looks up to see Derek's attention aimed on him waiting for a response. "What happened?"
A roll of his eyes is performed before Derek elaborates, "You named everyone else as a character. Who are you?"
Allison and Scott perk up as they wonder the same thing now that the question has been thrown in the air. Stiles looks at each of the faces of his pack and puts the string of his hoodie in his mouth to chew while he stalls for time.
Scott tries to guess, "Is it the Red Hood? Because of your many red hoodies?"
"Now that I think of it, probably a bad idea to wear when certain werewolves want to rip my throat out…with their teeth." He makes an exaggerated lift of his eyebrow and tilt of his head as he looks at Derek, who picks up his eggroll and makes a big show of biting into the treat. Stiles scoffs and answers Scott's attempt, "I told you before I don't want to anyone's Robin, any version of him. If anything that would be Jackson. Taken in by the alpha here and went homicidal like Red Hood…not by choice but still."
Derek wiped the crumbs from Henley caused by the dramatic crunch into his food and says, "You still haven't answered."
"Okay. Only because of the Lydia thing…which I will never mention again. I would be…Catwoman. Just don't tell Erica when she gets back because she kinda called dibs on Catwoman first. But she's more Michelle Pfeiffer and Boyd is her Michael Keaton after she replaced me as Batman with him. Can't blame her, he looks way better in tights." A few seconds pass when Scott bursts out a laugh, realizing his best friend is serious. At least, Allison has the decency to try to hide her giggling. And Derek…Derek just looks at him with an uncomfortable amount of intensity he's only seen the one time he came early for a pack meeting to witness a heated game of chess between Derek and Isaac. A look of intrigue when faced with a complex puzzle.
"The wisecracks I'll give you…but, dude, Catwoman? I've never seen you once land on your feet." The memory of Stiles jumping off a swing set in mid-air and concluding with his face planted on the ground starts another round of laughter from Scott.
"If you're done, ass, I'll explain. As you said, the awesome sense of humor, for one."
"I don't think I ever said awesome."
"The constant break-ins," Stiles says continuing his explanation and ignoring Scott's remark. "The constant help for Batman. Everyone else has their high-tech, fancy gadgets whereas she makes do with her whip. Much like all of you with your furry talents and cool weapons, I only have a baseball bat. Both of us are usually underestimated, I'd like to say because of our sex appeal but that only applies for one of us. And going back to humor, using it as a self-defense mechanism. And I'm a lot more nimble than I look! Have you seen how much I run from the…supernaturally gifted", he whispers, not wanting to draw any attention from people surrounding them to their secret life. "And we both have pissed off Poison Ivy at some point in our lives. Okay, that the last time I mention it." Allison lifts her eyes to the night sky as she regrets telling Stiles anything.
"Well, I've never seen someone so happy in my life to see a full carton of milk and try chug it all," Scott supplies a memory of his friend provoking Stiles to wave a hand at him to say 'I told you', "But it still seems a bit like reaching to me."
"How about our questionable ethics, like me kinda pimping out a fugitive." Their debate ends as a chorus of cheering from near the store's entrance. "It's showtime." Stiles claps hard and rubs his hands with so much friction a fire is sure to start in his palms.
People stand up from their seats ready to move forward to claim their long awaited video game release. A woman walks by and stops in her tracks when she sees Derek still sitting in his seat munching on the last half of his eggroll. She yells to her associate for immediate attention in what looks to be an urgent matter. "Perfection," she exclaims in a faux French accent.
The associate she called upon releases an annoyed sigh, "It was a week in France, girl. You've been back in Beacon Hills for six months. When will the fake accent end?" After expressing her annoyance with her coworker she turns her focus to the man she was brought to inspect. "Hello, sir," trying to get his attention away from his food. "The one in the dark…everything." Derek looks up, cheeks full resembling a chipmunk, to notice he is under the scrunity of two women dressed in polo shirts and khakis of the same color – obviously store clerks. "We need your help," she implores. "Our model for Batman cancelled at the last minute. Something about bachelorettes paying better."
"C'est la vie. That's what happens when you hire guys based on how well they gyrate in your face, mon chéri." The faux French woman criticizes.
"You hire guys your way and I'll do it my way." She refocuses herself back to the matter at hand. "You're the perfect height and build, sir. And if you want, I can perform a quick, personal evaluation before you start."
"No, no monsieur, she won't. We can pay you what we would've paid him."
"Go for it, Mr. Store Brand Cereal. I'm tired of coming to your place and eating 'Frosted Fakes'." Stiles insists.
"He's not Batman!" Scott firmly claims again.
"I think these ladies would disagree with you, Scott."
"You can keep it, too. It was made by the one and only Regina Vallen." The faux French sales clerk offers as an extra incentive.
"Re-Regina?! The cosplayer?! Dude, you have to! Her costumes are super-high quality pieces of art. Masterpieces!" Stiles excitedly requests.
Derek gets up from his borrowed seat and wipes off the crumbs from his lap to stand in front of the ladies brimming with relief in their eyes at having found their Batman. "Here," he said and shoved the empty container in Stiles' chest. "Sorry, ladies but keep searching." He says then walks away from a trio of fallen faces.
Stiles looks down at the empty Tupperware his arms cradle and yells, "All the eggrolls you can eat, Derek! All for you if you do this one thing!"
Derek walks back in Stiles' personal space and stabs a finger in his chest, "I'm not letting you exploit me, Stiles. Again! I saw what you did to just a picture of a figure of Batman. Imagine what all of these Batman-hungry fans will do to a real, live one."
"Hold on!" Another plea from Stiles stops Derek's retreating form, he hopes his final chance will work as does the women standing to side watching the exchange. "I know I'm asking a lot from you. But I wouldn't expect a huge favor from anyone I didn't consider…family." A pair of vexed groans was made by Scott and Allison as Stiles smiled hoping to whittle away Derek's hard set glare.
Derek walked right into Stiles' personal space once again, eyes locked directly into the emotional blackmailer's eyes, and as Stiles questioned his morality Derek said through gritted teeth, "How long would I need to be here?"
"Uh." One of the women said stunned by the interaction that occurred before her. "Just an hour, maybe less."
"Fine. Suit me up," he spat out. "And I still want those eggrolls," giving his demand as he pushed Stiles to the side and left to follow the store clerks to his modeling debut.
"I love you, dude!" Stiles shouted to the back of Derek.
"You do know you're never fitting in that Batman costume if it's custom-made for someone like Derek." Allison noted.
"Who said I wanted it for myself?" Stiles waggled his eyebrows suggestively in front of a very confused Scott and a shocked Allison.
Not too long later, the line began to move as people started purchasing their copy of Batman's last adventure along with a photo-op of the starring character. The three of them didn't have the chance to see Derek donning the costume, after he was rushed to present the first purchase of the night as soon as he was dressed up. By the time Scott and Stiles were able to get in the store, the crowd surrounding Derek inside was so thick waiting to take as many pictures as they could. It was impossible to see anything other than the tips of the Batman's long ears.
"Finally, dude! I'm so ready to power up my XBOX and press LB to 'Even the Odds'." Scott said with words dripping in exhilaration as he held his purchase. His fist was hung in the air waiting for a bump from Stiles' own, but his friend's interest was elsewhere. "Stiles," he tried to gain his best friend's attention. "Don't worry, the Batsuit will be fine."
Turning to glare, Stiles said, "I'm worried about the guy in the suit, dumbass. I didn't think they would swarm him like that. Shouldn't there be security or something?"
"I think they're out securing the line and the parking lot behind the store. People can get really ugly. I remember one guy who was shot over a system last year after he left the store." All of them look down to Stiles' shopping bag housing with a newly bought system.
"Luckily, I have a couple of werewolves and a hunter as backup. Let's see if we can give Derek the same protection from this feeding frenzy. Looks like everyone who was in front of us never left the store."
Chaos and grabby, lecherous hands were subdued as Stiles and company (his name for them) shooed away lingering customers like the pestering pigeons they were and created an orderly line for those still waiting for a picture. Stiles was vigilantly not looking at Derek for fear of the sun-scorching glare that was most likely heading his way and a second fear of what he would do seeing his long favorite masked hero in the body hugging outfit.
Derek would never say it but the eager, excited younger audience who wanted to pose with the iconic hero, up way past their bedtime, made his sore, over-pinched ass (and the trauma of one crotch grab) worth the pain. And fortunately for him his permanent, well-worn frown suited perfectly for a proper portrayal of Batman.
With the last customer long gone, Derek finally took his mask off and collected his check, clothing, and a free poster that Stiles was sure to claim later. "Derek, I am so sorry. I didn't think it would get that out of hand."
"Save it, Stiles." Derek said with no hint of heat in his voice. "Those kids were really happy to meet their hero. It was actually a nice change not being viewed as a once fugitive and alleged murderer."
"Yeah, sorry about that, too. Um, one more favor?" Stiles smiled sheepishly and Derek's face contorted in a look of disbelief. "Group photo?" Derek rolled his eyes before he put the mask back on but was stopped when a hand blocked the mask's path to his face. "Without the mask, sourwolf. With the real hero of the night." The pack positioned themselves close together. Scott and Allison, each placing one arm over the other's hips on the left of Derek holding the game and the statue, respectively. Stiles cradled both his bundled game system and statue under each arm on Derek's right side with the star attraction's arm over his shoulder in a mimed chokehold. "Everyone say 'Batarang'."
Scott and Allison were standing outside the front of the store waiting for Stiles and Derek to bring the jeep around. Derek still wore the costume, his for keeps – at least for now, afraid to change back claiming that both women didn't give him a moment alone to change into it earlier. Stiles vocalized his surprise at Derek's modesty after the countless times he found him shirtless. In Derek's defense, he reminded Stiles he was home on his own property at those times with no one around to eye-fuck him, which caused a chuckle to spur from Stiles.
A question plagued Derek's mind through the night spent dressed as Batman. All of those people looked up to the fictional hero, as well as Stiles still does if the drool on the box encasing the statue was evidence of that assumption. And at one point in time so did Derek. He decided to find out the answer to his query as they approached the jeep, "Stiles, do you really think I'm like Batman? Obviously you think the world of him."
"What gave it away? Me drowning in salvia at sight of him or how I black mailed you to get that costume?" Stiles smiled at his own shameless behavior.
"I'm serious, Stiles. It's not a big secret that I made a lot of mistakes. Scott definitely doesn't stop to remind me. Was it…superficial? Just me being 'tall, dark, and brooding'?"
Stiles breathes in deeply as he takes in Derek's vulnerable state and knows he has to let him know how he really feels. "You're right. You made a lot mistakes and you're not perfect." Derek's face falls slightly at hearing his own thoughts being projected by someone whose opinion means a great deal to him. "But neither is Batman. Sure you have a master's degree in 'brooding-ology' but you do have his best qualities, too. You're selfless, determined, courageous, and fearsome."
Derek scoffs in doubt and hands over his mask to Stiles. "I think you just described yourself, Stiles."
Stiles pushes the mask back in Derek's hand. "We all have a bit of Batman in us, big guy. But you wear it best." Derek stands in silence as he looks down at the returned mask and processes the words said to him. "Let's get the other two before Scott spontaneously combusts from anticipation."
"You couldn't have left the statue with them until you got back," Derek asked, holding his clothes and poster, as he watched his pimp hold the large box encasing his superhero's stationary form in one arm to grab his car keys out of his pocket with the other arm. "Isaac left a message to inform me the internet I paid for is free to use." Derek took the opportunity to listen through the rest of his messages as he waited for Stiles to find his key one handed. The whole process might've been faster if he didn't have all those pockets on his cargo pants.
"I'm never letting this bad boy out of my sight. It's utter perfection." He finally retrieved the key hidden deep in his pocket but before he could revel in his triumph, an unseen force knocked his front into the jeep. His forehead collided with the driver door and made him bounce backwards to fall on the concrete ground. He was dumbstruck when he met two hands in mid-air instead of the hard pavement of the parking lot. After Stiles was lifted up by Derek to lean his back against the door, the cause of his incident was seen halfway across the lot running away. "What the hell?! That sonuva bitch stole my precious!"
Derek inspected his head with a gentle touch and saw no visible wound. "Derek, I'm fine. I'm fine," swatting away hands that caused a stronger sensation than the dull throb of his head. He threw a finger at the thief taking off with his newly acquired possession. "He just turned that corner! Go before you lose him!" Stiles conveyed in panicked tone.
Derek morphs his features into his werewolf appearance briefly to remind Stiles of his supernatural capabilities and then runs off to deal with the punk unlucky enough to mess with a member of his pack. He ran swiftly, cape flowing behind, through the empty lot to reach his target and noticed how comfortable and functional his garb was. Stiles was right about the 'super-high' quality of this Regina Vallen's work. He turned the corner where the robber was last seen and slowed to a stop to see the assumed criminal's face planted down on the ground under Scott's foot. A slight look of disappointment ran across Derek's features before it was quickly disposed of for a neutral disposition. "Nice job, Scott."
"Here. You give it to him," Scott hands over the procured item to the alpha. "I think Stiles will appreciate this coming from you, Batman."
"How did you know he…right, the-"Derek pointed to his own ears. "Thanks."
Derek returned to find Stiles sitting in the driver seat with the door open unaware of his presence. "Gah! Geez, man! Reason fifteen you make a great Batman. Silently appearing out of nowhere. You're both giant creepers." Derek ignores the comment while he waits for Stiles to see what's being held in his hands. "See! Who says you're not the Dark Knight?" He snatches the reacquired object of his admiration and gives it an over the top smooch. After Stiles abandons showering the statue with appreciation he looks to see Derek staring at him with incredulity. "You expecting a kiss?"
"A thank you will do just fine."
"Ha, this coming from Mr. Manners here. Thank you, Derek."
"You're welcome, Stiles. You okay to drive?" He asks as Stiles secures his statue in the backseat of the jeep.
"Yeah, yeah. Just a bump. It takes much more to crack this hard head." Derek closes the driver door as Stiles inquires, "Need a lift back home?"
"No thanks." A self-conscious looking Derek stands to the side of the vehicle scratching his stubble. "Do they end up together? Catwoman and Batman. I saw the movie as a kid and I remember they didn't. But do they in the game?"
"Oh, uh, well…I dunno. But I'll let you know what happens as I do. It's clear that Catwoman is interested but Batman's interest is not so clear."
"I think he is," Derek claims despite his lack of knowledge about the game. He clears his throat and looks directly into Stiles' eyes to tell him, "I know he is. He'd be a fool not to."
Yeah?" Hope brewing in Stiles' voice. A nod from Derek gives Stiles all the confirmation he needs. "Good night, Derek. And I expect to have that costume soon."
"Good night, Stiles. And I expect to have those eggrolls."
"Count on it, handsome."