Disclaimer: I don't own the world of Teen Wolf which belongs to the genius named Jeff Davis.
This fic is about Derek and Braeden throughout season 4 and is very much canon-compliant.
Confident Souls
He was completely enamored by her, as she sauntered up to them with her leather and gold-studded jacket, tough Italian boots, and an undeniable smirk that made him want to put her in her place and yet kiss her at the same time. Her stride was confident and striking, and her intense gaze gave him a sizzling sensation in his gut.
She was aggressive and snappy, but had every right to be. Her ability to outsmart the Calleveras - one of the most ruthless family of hunters in all of North America, single-handedly defeat a guard twice her size, and help two wanted werewolves escape across the U.S-Mexican border without any repercussion was beyond impressive.
With a single motion, she unlatched the lock on the treasure trunk.
In that very moment Derek had to know just who this woman was.
Months later, she had resurfaced in Mexico, helping Scott and the pack find where Kate had taken him, only to find his de-aged body in the ruins of an ancient Aztec temple.
He didn't have much time to recover from his transformation, as the change in the color of his eyes had him put in all his energy in finding Kate in a desperation to figure out what she had done to him.
And so when his week-long search for the were-jaguar huntress rendered fruitless, he knew exactly who to call.
She agreed to help, and Derek was thankful. But Lord did she know how to negotiate. The way she sassed Peter when he refused to agree to the amount of pay she asked for had Derek so amused that he almost laughed out loud.
He didn't know whether or not he should trust her. She did put her life at risk to save Isaac, and even after getting her throat slashed by an alpha, she took on the job of saving him and his uncle - but then again that was only because she had received a large sum of money in return. If she was offered more than what Derek had promised her (which really was any amount of money she wished for), would she turn her allegiance to Kate? Could she possibly deceive him?
He didn't want to believe that, but with all the people who had manipulated him before, he was weary of being used again.
He knew that it was either put his faith in her or never find Kate. And he had to find her. He had to get what was back from him.
After that, he didn't see Braeden again for two weeks.
She was intrigued by the mysterious Derek Hale. She had heard rumors about him, about his family that died in a fierce fire, his rise and fall as an alpha and how he had escaped death one two many times. Braeden wanted to know how one person could lose so much and still be willing to live in such a dangerous and haunting town. If she was in his place, she would've packed her bags and left Beacon Hills a long time ago.
Or so she thought.
She sat still in her hospital bed, hardly able to move, cringing in pain as a sharp sensation sliced through her leg. The doctor had told her that she had a bullet in her calf, a broken rib, and several deep cuts and bruises.
She had a sinking feeling at the pit of her stomach. Not only did she fail to find Kate, but she had thrown herself into the ring of fire admist a series of assassins that were after a pack of werewolves. There was a secret part of her, in which she desperately wanted to find Kate - not because it was her mission but because she wanted to impress her handsome employer.
Things would have been utterly miserable, had it not been for the fact that he had been keeping her company. Melissa had told her that he had been visting every single day, watching her peaceful sleeping form for hours on end.
Braeden knew there were two possibilities- either Derek Hale was a total creep or he was simply, "protecting his investment". Although she would never admit it, she found his presence his presence soothing- the fact that someone cared enough about her to see that she was going to be okay made her feel warm and fuzzy inside.
Fortunately, her wounds had healed in a couple of days; a remarkable feat as this was only a little longer than it would have taken for a supernatural creature. When she was discharged, Braeden insisted that she go back to her place, but with Kate Argent on the loose as well as a vengeful daughter-son duo of mexican hunters awaiting her return, Derek felt a protective urge to bring her to the loft; She quietly agreed, as she was too fatigued and heavily medicated on painkillers to protest. Once he got home, he helped her climb into his bed, took off her shoes and gently tucked her in.
She smiled to herself, thinking of how much of a gentleman he was and soon enough fell into a deep slumber.
Derek was amazed at how bold and brazen she was to waltz over to him in nothing but a tank top and lift up his shirt, demanding to know why he wasn't healing the way he should. She had even used his line against him - the one about "protecting his investment."
Other than Chris Argent, he hadn't told anyone about what was happening to him. He wasn't sure if he should confide in her about something so personal and so private. But she was persistent to see his eyes.
Eyes that could no longer change.
Braeden gave him a look full of concern and curiosity and in that moment he felt compelled to tell her everything.
She didn't ask questions, instead she listened with intent, her gaze fixed on his sad demeanor. She couldn't help but feel heartbroken, she couldn't imagine being completely stripped of her identity. It was like her becoming paralyzed - feeling utterly helpless and useless and unable to fullfill her job, her missions, her purpose.
She quietly proceeded to clean his wound and gently placed a bandage on it.
The way she raised her eyebrows from time to time, the look of tenderness in her expression, the way her fingers lingered longer than she should have on his torso when she gently placed a bandage on his wound...But despite the harsh reality he was living in, Derek felt somewhat invigorated by her.
And when she decided to challenge him to an arm wrestling match, Derek was amused by her proposition and decided what the hell.
Before he could even register what was happening, and with a force akeen to that of a supernatural being, she had already slammed his hand onto the table.
That's cheating, he told her. But when he said that, her was not refering to the fact that she had used her other hand to push down on his arm, rather it was her seductive charm; the sultry look in her eyes and the purse of her lips, that took him completely off guard.
She showed him her vast gun collection comparable to that of Chris Argent's with each pistol and bullet placed in a highly organized fashion.
This was new territory for him. The idea of guns freaked him out to no end and brought back foul memories of constantly chased by hunters as a teenager.
He listened closely as she spewed off information about magazines and rounds, soaking everything she said up like a sponge.
When she asked him to pull the gun on her, Derek couldn't help but smile to himself at how ridiculous this whole situation was.
But again, he decided to indulge her.
Each and every gracious movement of her hands and legs as she removed the gun from his grip was an art-form.
She had completely emasculated him, preying on his insecurity of being utterly weak and defenseless - but for some reason he wasn't miffed by it at all.
Rather he was turned on.
He knew he wasn't going to win her little game anytime soon, well not like this anyway. And so with a sudden burst of ingenuity and passion, he crashed his lips onto hers and nudged the gun right onto her torso. She momentarily froze.
Game over.
Maybe it was the fact that his soul craved comfort and love from a beautiful woman, or that she wanted to express her gratitude to him for being such a chivalrous gentleman, or simply the fact that they were too very good-looking people alone in a moon-lit room who happened to find each other to be incredibly attractive, but soon enough they were in a frenzy of lust and desire.
Derek knew in the back of his mind that things were moving way too fast. His previous relationship was a fatal mistake, but something was different about her. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he felt this burning need to trust her.
Whatever masculinity she had stripped from him earlier from winning an arm wrestling match and being able to take a gun out of his hand, he had made up fully in bed.
Derek fell hard in love and he fell fast.
A few hours later, Derek had woken up from a dreamless but peaceful sleep. He glanced over to Braeden, the memory of each sensation still reeling inside of his head- the feel of her skin on his, the way she whispered his name. But despite the warm feelings he had inside as he thought of her, the reality of the situation sunk in and fear crept into his heart. There were a million things running through his head, he didn't even know where to start.
Being a wolf was all he had ever known. It was the one thing that stayed constant in his life, the one thing that connected him to his family. The one thing he had left.
Who was he now?
He walked over to her collection of guns, lying on the wooden table.
Part of him just wanted to die and get it over with. Was there a point in living if he was no longer a werewolf?
Maybe it was the beautiful girl lying asleep in his bed that fed his fire, but the stronger part of him, the part of him that that had his mother's voice echoing in his head told him that he couldn't give up just yet.
No not without a fight. Derek Hale adapts. Whatever challenge is thrown at him, he endures and he moves forward. That was who he was. And even this wasn't going to break him.
And so if he was going to have to let her teach him how to use those human weapons in order to protect himself and the pack, then so be it.
Derek and Braeden were confident human beings, but for some inexplicable reason they were shy and fumbling around each other the next morning as though they were a pair of awkward teenagers who had just lost their virginity.
"Coffee?" she asked.
"No thanks," he replied. Derek never liked the bitter taste of coffee, as a wolf caffeine was useless to him.
Braeden merely shrugged as chugged down two shots of espressos.
They both were thinking the same thing and they knew it.
Was this casual sex? Derek hated using that term - it meant there was nothing there, just two adults consenting to having an intimate relationship. He didn't know Braeden enough to be well...in love with her, but he certainly was infatuated with her as he found himself wanting to know everything about her, hear her laugh, watch her crack jokes.
He thought of possible red flags in their brief yet intense relationship. She hasn't acted strange or bizarre. There was something genuine about her. But he realized that he doesn't know much about her. Other than the fact that she's a mercenary whose had contact with the supernatural world. He didn't even know her last name or how old she is. And now all of a sudden, he felt like he had to interview her.
"So..." he began.
"So...what?" she asked.
"So you're not a psychopathic mass murderer are you?"
"What?"
Derek mentally slapped himself. That came out way worse than it should have had.
She gave him an incredulous look, "Is this what you ask all the women you bring home after you sleep with them?"
He looked down at his cup of coffee; he would have laughed had he not felt so serious.
"It's not that I don't trust you..." There was an intermittent pause, ""It's just that I don't know anything about you. I've been in real shitty relationships in the past. These women that I've been with in the past, weren't who they seemed."
"Well what you see is what you get. At first, I did because you hired me to, but now I care Derek. I am in too deep. I care a lot. I want to help you and Scott and the pack."
He studied her face. She spoke with nothing but utter conviction and sincerity.
She gets up from her chair and asks, "So what do you want to know about me?"
Derek paused. "Well for starters how did you become a mercenary?"
"I was stationed in Iraq for three years. It's tough for a woman to be in the military. You have to take crap from men all the time. I saw things that I never would never even dream of in my worst nightmares."
She was gazing out the window as she said this; her expression vacant as though she was occupied with a flashback.
"Anyways, I got kicked out and realized that I was dead broke and had to support myself and my mom and little sister."
"What did you do that got you kicked out?" he asked uncertainly.
"It's not what I did do, it's what happened."
Derek watched her walk away, her eyes trailing the floor.
"Anyways, that lifestyle just wasn't for me. So I decided to take some jobs on - at first I did some private investigation for a bunch of middle-aged rich ladies who wanted me to track down their philandering husbands - it was unfulfilling but the money was decent and I wasn't risking my life. Then I got into more shadier schemes on the black market- drug dealers looking for a professional to help them gather information... I hated it. But it was good experience. It helped give me a footing before I got involved in the supernatural. Before saving Isaac, I did a job down in Mexico for a pack of alphas. I started building a reputation, and that's when I met Marin Morrell. She told me about Beacon Hills, taught me everything that there is to know."
He's intrigued by her story. He wants to know every single detail of every single job that she's done. But he doesn't want to bombard her with any more questions as he can sense her uneasiness and so he doesn't say anything.
"Anyways, enough about me. Get up. I'm going to teach you how to shoot today."
They left and settled in a clearing in the middle of the woods; it wasn't so far off from where he had found a nearly dead Braeden only days earlier in the middle of an infected pack of wolves.
He was nervous, he didn't want her to think he was a complete idiot and he didn't want to admit that guns freaked the hell out of him.
She taught him how to stand, how much distance to keep, carved a target in the middle of a tree. Derek wasn't one to have performance anxiety, but for some reason Braeden had him all frazzled and he did not like it one bit. At first he missed. And he missed again. But soon enough he got the hang of it.
She wasn't impatient with him, rather she was uncharacteristically flirtatious. All her little mannerisms - the way she tilted her head, bit her bottom lip, batted her eyelashes from time to time, spoke soft words of encouragement. Aside from last night, most times he had seen her she looked like she was going to cut someone in half; this was a side of Braeden he had seen before and he found it rather endearing.
"You're pretty good at this," she teased.
"I have a good teacher," he quipped.
She dropped her gun on the floor and kissed him as he lifted her off of the floor.
Even though he responded with enthusiasm, she could tell that he was secretly watching her every move, her facial expressions, the look in her eyes - desperately searching for any notion that tells him that she is not who she says she is. And she knew that he was trying very hard to trust her, but deep down there is slight paranoia.
And she couldn't blame him.
She didn't know the extent of his relationships with Kate Argent or Jennifer Blake, but if the people she trusted and cared for ended up burning down his entire family and killing him and his pack, she would be done with romance for good. The fact that he was willing to not only hire her but let her help him spoke volumes.
After several minutes of blissful serenity in which they did nothing but sit on grass, hold hands, and listen to the stillness of the woods, she decided to go back to her place. She had things to sort out - errands to run, but most importantly she needed to formulate a plan to take down these assassins.
More than anything she wanted to gain Derek's complete trust. And she would do anything in her power to earn it.
A/N - Please review and favorite! I am super excited for the finale. After it airs, I plan on writing a second chapter that follows Derek and Braeden through the rest of the season.
