Chapter 1

He acted out of pure love and good intentions for her, but he still just wasn't feeling up to it, it as whatever she keeps fussing over.

Probably him. She's fussing at him. All heroics going unnoticed…to anyone but him.

He really should never be heroic because god it hurt.

The guy was a Mack truck of bulk, he acted like Lydia had no choice but go off and be his Barbie trophy. Which is understandable, to a point. He could have been a simple douche, that'd been nice but no, the universe absolutely set Stiles up. The guy was handsy, not in the groping way but 'you're going to do as I say and I'm going to drag you by the arm for insurance'. Not that Lydia was sitting there taking it, but she wasn't screaming for help either, because half Lydia's weight is stubbornness and the other half is pride. And all 119 pounds of her was yapping away in utter determination like the growing anger in his face was not a problem, no siry, Lydia has it all so under control. Stiles was already coming in for a rescue when Mr. Mack Truck decided he had enough and threw her like a ragdoll into the passenger seat of his car, Stiles knew she'd hit something hard because she was silent for at least a half a minute.

Stiles had arrived though, he had gotten bigger since high school, he really had, no matter what Lydia teased, he just wasn't mack truck proof, but a damsel was in distress and by god he was going to be her knight in shining armor.

Knight in shining purple and blues.

The guy didn't technically win because Stiles leg had slipped towards the end and may have connected pretty hard in between the legs, he was going for a round house kick of course. So he wasn't the one in the end groaning on the cement, or well okay he was, but mack truck, MACK TRUCK.

It was nice though after the numerous speeches of Stiles should not risk body for "trifles that could be handled" (half pride + half stubbornness, sprinkled with self-determination and the smarts equals apparently a beautiful woman who thinks she is the hulk.) because Allison and Lydia doted on him, kind of, they mostly told him to stop being a wimp when the replaced the frozen bags of beans and what not, but they also brought him home food, which was nice. The way to win over any man's heart.

Scott on the other hand was a bag of jokes, from "You have something on your face dude…- wait that's just a black eye, bud dum ching" to just poking at his bruises for entertainment.

In the end though there was a bonus in it all, work- he didn't take any days off or anything (Poor college students don't take time off.) but normally being the front man, either being the host or cashier, but nobody wants a beat up looking host so he was sent to kitchen duty which was just fab because it wasn't even washing dishes crap! So he might be the assistant of the assistant sauce guy, but he was handling food! Actual high end restaurant food that would be going into the mouths of people!

He also had an apron, a lovely, not pristine, apron. No stuffy vests here. God he was in love. Who cares if it 200 hundred degrees in here it's amazing. And the chefs aren't even making pretty boy jokes which is incredibly nice and partially due to the fact they don't recognize him in purple. So Stiles wasn't pressing his luck, instead he brought a butt load of mints and forced his mouth to keep occupied while milling over any and all French words he'd learned from A to Z, because he was a massive nerd and needed serious repercussions to stop him from diarrhea of the mouth.

And it worked for the most part until Laura returned and took notice to him, as in, interrogated him in front of the whole kitchen staff why he was sporting a lovely color of healing green bruises. Not only was it extremely embarrassing but also awakened the chefs' food libido of work to realize he was in the kitchen. After Laura retreated to her office with her business positioners, Stiles was left there to be laughed, mocked and cooed after.

Stiles was just going to keep ignoring them and get back to work, sucking on his mints with new determination when one of them spoke up with something they deemed clever, which honestly some of them were, but all they were going to get out of him was the continuous eye-roll. It was working for the most part, but sushi was relentless.

"Pretty boy what are we supposed to do with you now?" the sushi chef (who wasn't Asian at all) asked clucking his tongue giving him a once, twice over in a slow manner, "We can't use your body if you're all colored up.., dap some make up on it sweet cheeks. Then be on your merry way, we can't use you in here! What if you burn that baby bum soft skin of yours!" he gasped putting his hand over his heart shaking his head in horror, because nonAsian sushi chef cared you see.

"Enough." A hush fell through the kitchen, leaving goose bumps trailing over his body, because Mr. Hale just left that sort of impression on people. He was giving sushi a wither and die under my boots look, "Get back to work."

Peasant staff shuffled awkwardly and kept their heads low, but some of the chefs who weren't definite a-holes chatted lightly with Mr. Hale. Lightly chatting meaning friendly yelling over the commotion of back to workness. So when Isaac piped up and said,

"Its really all your fault, you see," It was doomed for all the kitchen staff to hear, " one of us might have, along the way teased him for his pretty self," Isaac's craned his neck to give me a wink, " it was bound to happen seeing as he is openly gay, and oh so beautiful," Isaac's order was done so the sentence was left open for his rush to prepare.

So maybe Stiles was openly gay but he didn't prance it, and he didn't want it announced to his boss who obviously had no knowledge of it. He looked blown over like maybe he was a homophobe which really wouldn't be good for Stiles job.

He tore his eyes from Mr. Hale's disappearing eyebrows to glare harshly into Isaac's back, because his job, and his pride was on the line.

"What was the point to that?" Mr. Hale finally growing impatient for the rest of the accusation, and looking deadly, but it really was all his fault.

"Hmm? Oh yes." Isaac put down his pan grinning broadly, "Twas all your fault my dear friend, when the ever so grumpy wumpy owner stops by, actually interviews and hires an employee for I'd like to say, the first time and then calls him the pretty boy, you set him up for years of endless teasings. The boys are quite competitive for your attention Derek. It's like a house of jealous ex-girlfriends in here."

If Stiles wasn't red as the tomato he was holding before, he sure was now, he was careful to only make eye contact with the tomato.