AN: This one is SO SHORT. Mostly because the way I have their schedules there isn't a lot of interaction between the two on Tuesdays. Also halfway through this chapter I got off my lazy ass and looked up the usual schedule for an officer of the law. And then stared at it blankly. Which is why the only thing even remotely close to an actual officer schedule is that they work, like, 12 hour shifts. Which, oh god, mad props to officers, man. Egad.
Dedication: to my boo. Hi boo!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything and I apologize again that this is short as shit.
Tuesday morning went like this.
Stiles woke up to an empty bed, Derek's side already cold. Tuesdays were the meeting days, which meant Derek got up four hours earlier than he liked, made a fresh pot of coffee, stored half of it in an enormous travel mug and left when the sky was still dark. He always pressed a kiss against Stiles' cheek when he left, not that Stiles was ever aware of this. But Stiles woke up to an empty bed and half a pot of lukewarm coffee and dragged his body from the bed and into the shower. He was always late to work on Tuesdays, because he liked to pluck a handful of flowers from the garden Derek had wrestled up in the back of their home and take it out to the cemetery.
Tuesdays had been his mother's favorite day of the week. He left a flower at her grave and then the rest at the Hales' tombstones. Derek never visited, but he knew Stiles dropped of flowers there each week. The one and only time it had been brought up Derek had given Stiles a very small smile and told him that his family would have fought over who liked him more.
In turn, Stiles told Derek that his mother would have tried to adopt him like a stray cat the very second she realized his sister was dead, leather jacket, police arrest, and all. Stiles had called in sick that day, because neither of them could bring themselves to leave their bed (or each other).
On Tuesdays Stiles worked the late shift, not leaving the house until the afternoon. He spent the morning lazing about, sorting laundry and then forgetting to put it in the washing machine. Without fail he always remembered to throw in a load just before he left the house. Stiles spent Tuesday nights mostly screwing around with the other deputies on board, smiling to himself whenever Derek sent him a text to update him on his day. It was only about a three hour drive each way to San Francisco, but Derek liked to stop at gas stations and rest stops every chance he could and stretch his legs. He always sent Stiles texts about his ETA home, which Stiles found a little silly, since Derek would be getting home much earlier than Stiles. But it helped.
Sometimes whenever Stile was on night shifts Derek would come visit him. It wasn't often, which Stiles was thankful for because his coworkers already teased him that he and Derek were incredibly co-dependent, but every couple of weeks Derek wouldn't be able to sleep and so, after driving six hours to and from San Francisco, Derek would eat dinner by himself, having arrived usually about an hour after Stiles left for work, and then he would get some work done. Once work became boring, he went to bother Stiles.
When Derek didn't visit Stiles, however, he worked. He would spread the printed pages he had to go over all across the room and sit in the very middle of the floor with his pen. Stiles liked to tease Derek about it, because it was the kind of thing nutcases did, but Derek didn't mind. Having the physical pages spread across the floor in front of him helped him sort out the words and keep his thoughts in order. But Derek would work late into the night, usually around 3 or 4am, at which point he would call it quits, stack his pages on the left corner of his desk, and crawl in bed.
Tuesdays always bled into Wednesday for them, since they were both up late working. Stiles always crawled into bed once he got home, curling into Derek's side, and Derek would then roll over, wrapping Stiles in his limbs like a child with a toy.