Stiles Stilinski caught the package Derek tossed him. The New York office building trembled, and another fire errupted from a nearby wall.
Stiles knew the elevators would be no good. People were running by him in every which direction in a panic.
His only chance was the stairs. What about Derek?
He pulled at the door to the stairs, but it was stuck. The building shook, and the omninous creak of metal beams was heard.
Stiles thought that this was it. His twenty years of life had been good to him, considering...
He'd made it through all that werewolf and kitsune stuff back in California, only to be killed in a New York, in what appeared to be a terrorist attack.
Fresh resolve surged through him. He would not die this way!
He grabbed the door handle and pulled with a surge of strength he didn't think his scrawny frame had. The door clicked and then swung back, nearly throwing him.
He managed to steady himself.
"This way everybody!" he shouted, leading the way into the stairwell.
He descended what might have been twenty flights of steps. At one point the building shook, and he heard something collapse nearby.
Finally he reached the last flight. There was the exit and the light of day at hand!
He almost tripped over himself, making a run for it. He'd never been more glad to see the sky and sun. People were running from the building behind him. The police were arriving in droves.
He looked down at the package that had almost cost him his life. Derek was still nowhere to be seen. Was he still trapped in the building? Maybe werewolves could survive explosions?
A nasty feeling clenched his gut. He doubted it.
Stiles felt a rush of feelings he'd never admit he had for the older man.
He'd been in New York with Derek and Isaac for over a year now. Ever since all that madness back in Beacon Hills.
The Nogitsune had almost completely taken him again, and even his dad was agreed he needed to get out of California. Perhaps not surprisingly, Derek agreed to take him. The older man acted cold, but he did care.
Stiles scanned the crowd, looking for Derek. Hoping he'd made it out. His glance stopped on Isaac, gesturing to him wildly from across the crowd.
He remembered that Isaac was supposed to take it and run.
He tossed the package, and Isaac bounded forward to swipe it up. Stiles saw him run, disappearing around a street corner.
He didn't have time to contemplate. His hand was suddenly grabbed, and he was jerked forward into a run.
He grinned sidelong at his companion.
"Warn somebody Derek!" he snapped.
"Shut up Stiles!" the alpha growled.
Stiles laughed inwardly, enjoying the feeling of his hand in Derek's as they half-walked, half-ran.
Where were they going?
Stiles found out when Derek pulled him into an alley. Isaac was backed against the dead end fence, while two familiar men stood over him.
"Yo Cole!" Derek called out.
The two figures turned and smirked. One of them was a lanky guy about Stiles's age, with bowl cut black hair. The other was Cole's sister Angie. She was blond, and slightly older.
"We've come for the package Derek," Cole said warningly. "Stand back!"
Derek roared and charged in, brandishing claws. Stiles felt the package slam into his chest, barely managing to close his arms around it.
Isaac had joined the fray. He and Derek were going hand to hand with Cole and Angie, who had also changed into werewolf form.
They were no match for an alpha. Derek grabbed them by the neck, and slammed them into one another as easily as though they were sacks of flour.
Cole growled angrily, retracting his fangs.
"This isn't over Derek!" he spat.
Then he and Angie leaped onto a building and took off.
Stiles gave a weak laugh.
"Another successful mission," he remarked.
Derek accepted the package from him with a triumphant look his brooding couldn't conceal.
"Let's go home," he ordered them.
Stiles sipped at hot coffee as Derek studied the package with a frown of concentration.
Derek noted the younger man looking at him, and looked up, eyes questioning. Stiles cleared his throat awkwardly, and Isaac smirked about something.
"Think I'll go grab a shower," he announced, leaving the two of them alone.
Derek studied Stiles for a long moment, thinking how different he looked now. He'd changed since coming to New York. His style was more grunge. His brunette hair was messy, and he wore glasses.
Derek's breathing hitched, and he jumped back to his point.
"I have no idea what's in it," Derek said, giving the package a distrusting look.
He still frowned at Stiles on occasion, or told him to shut up, but since living together- their relationship had become much more casual and teasing.
"Andrew's pack was after it," Stiles stated the obvious, with a contemplative frown. "That means it could be dangerous."
"I think it should be examined," Derek said shortly. "We'll take it to Watson."
Watson was an old friend of Derek and Laura's. He was something like their Deaton in New York. He wasn't a vet- he was a computer junkie. He and Stiles would be good for each other.
"We're lucky to be alive," Stiles pointed out. "You reckon Andrew's pack set that bomb?"
"They probably did," Derek sighed.
Derek had told Stiles about Quintin, the old leader of the Delaney pack- one of New York's greater packs. Quintin and Laura had been allies, but the old man was dead, and his son Andrew had replaced him.
Andrew was somewhat ruthless, and known to play dirty.
In spite of the Delaneys and their significant ring of packs around the city- Andrew still didn't know where they were. Derek had buried an entire ring of monkshood around the apartment complex.
Indoors, Derek and Isaac sometimes suffered mild headaches if they focused on the smell too long, but it kept other werewolves away. Understandably, Derek had a rule that the windows in the apartment were never to be opened.
The Delaneys knew that Stiles was a member of Derek's pack by now, as well as being human. That's why Stiles didn't work. He helped Derek run an in-home company from his laptop.
They made enough money on it to do quite well. It just so happened that Derek had inherited a considerable sum from Talia he'd been sitting on.
Stiles went out, but only with Derek or Isaac accompanying him. Which meant he was under Derek's gaze almost constantly.
Sometimes Stiles let his looks wander. He'd study those chiseled abs and that muscled frame. It was sort of his secret that he'd had a crush on Derek since sophomore year back in Beacon Hills. Not even Scott had known.
If Derek noticed Stiles's glances, or detected any change in his mood, he didn't let on. He half-pretended that Stiles wasn't there most of the time.
Stiles hadn't managed to lose his temper yet, but he did get tired of Derek ignoring him to his face, or sometimes putting him down with words.
Stiles risked just as much as Derek and Isaac did for their pack, not to mention the research he put in.
Stiles had been staring at Derek the entire time he thought these things, mouth falling slightly open in his way.
Derek's eyes were locked on him now too, but he didn't say anything, just frowned. His eyes drank in Stiles. Was it fierce, like he wanted to incenerate Stiles with his eyes- or was it hunger? The younger man couldn't tell.
Derek dropped the package on the table and stood up. That shook Stiles out of it. He closed his mouth, nervously darting his tongue out.
Derek walked right past him, not saying so much as a word. Stiles knew he was probably angry, or didn't really know what to think about his stares.
Stiles heard Derek storm up the stairs in his moody way, and heard a door slam.