Three Misfits in New York

Chapter 4

Lydia actually shows up in his self-defense class, if only as a spectator. She arouses the interest of several boys as she settles at the side and even the instructor, a butch young woman in her twenties, isn't immune to her charms.

Stiles enjoys his training immensely, especially since he's almost able to keep up with the others during the warm-up. As he'd suspected it is just as hard, if not harder, than lacrosse training, but he likes being sweaty and sore. It makes him feel accomplished. There's no bench to cool his heels, all he has to do is give his best.

In the second half of training they get to throw each other around with easy techniques. A couple of students have warmed up to Stiles and together they practice tripping, side-stepping and incapacitating. Stiles soaks each instruction up like a sponge and he's even a little smug about the fact that he's among the fastest learners, even though his coordination still isn't the best.

Lydia looks a little impressed when the class is over and Stiles leaves her in Jeanine's capable but flirty hands as he heads to the shower.

"Your teacher sure knows how to sweet-talk," Lydia comments on their way to a little café Stiles has found in the town. "She almost convinced me to join you."

"Only almost? She's losing her touch."

"She offered me a month-long trial." Lydia smiles smugly. "I told her I'd think about it."

"Be nice to her," Stiles laughs. "She doesn't stand a chance against you."

Over a second breakfast they talk about many things, but most of all about Lydia's math championship.

"It's in New York," she glows. "My mom and I will go there, eat all the fancy food and watch shows until our eyes bleed. She told my father and he was predictably chauvinistic about the fact that his girl is wasting her time with science."

"Ugh."

"I'll be gone for a week," Lydia sighs dreamily. "Try not to get killed without me."

Stiles flicks a strawberry at her. "The whole point of my training is not to get killed, Lyds."

"You could come with me, I'm sure my mom wouldn't mind and her credit card sure wouldn't care. She's been worried about me a lot."

Speechless, he gapes at her. "Could I really?" he stutters. "Me?" When she smiles indulgently, he flushes. "Man, that'd be great. I mean, who doesn't want to go to New York?"

"I'll ask and have my mom call your dad." Lydia eats the strawberry and then steals all of Stile's unsweetened apple sauce. "Better start packing your suitcase."

In a trance, Stiles drops Lydia off at home and wanders the house in a daze for the better part of an hour. His dad finds him zoned out over several puzzles, all solved, and squeezes his shoulder.

"Long day?"

Stiles shakes his head and gets up to start on their dinner. His dad comes home earlier now and does his best to help Stiles with the chores, even though Stiles insists that he doesn't have to. After getting that dishwasher, things are much less time-consuming.

They decide on soba noodles with veggies and a little bit of fried tofu. Stiles has been eyeing a certain wok for days now and knows his dad won't say no if he actually gets around to asking for it. As he cooks, John washes up and changes into sweats and a ratty t-shirt, inadvertently showing off his leaner frame and the newly bulging biceps.

"Do you want to go for a run later?" he asks and gives the stir-fry a hearty shake.

"Yeah, I thought the five mile track. You wanna come with?"

It's a running gag between them; once they've started running, it has become an addiction. The calm of the preserve and the clear air and almost sweet scents are so enticing that they almost never say no to a run.

They eat, waste some time with a crime show and leave for their run when they don't feel so full anymore. As usual, they start out mellow, trotting through their backyard into the preserve and onto the running path most joggers in Beacon Hills prefer.

This evening, Derek joins them after two miles. He runs without a shirt, but he has a band around his upper arm to hold is iPod. John salutes him and they decide without actually deciding to take the longer route, about eight miles instead of five.

Derek's music is loud and they don't talk until they have looped back to the Stilinskis' backyard.

"You're in good shape," the werewolf offers once they've cooled down and stretched. "Nice run, Sheriff."

"Thanks for your company," John replies amiably. "Protein shake?"

Derek shrugs in what Stiles interprets as, "Sure, why not?" and chances a quick look at Stiles as if he might have a problem with it.

He doesn't. Derek shirtless is always a treat, especially for guys who want to muscle up themselves.

"You get Sunwarrior protein, dude. The best of the best. Come on."

He drags Derek into their spotless kitchen and throws a bag of frozen strawberries, three bananas, one and a half liters of oat milk, a handful of walnuts and their protein powder into the Kitchen Aid. Thirty seconds later there are three large, gorgeous glasses of protein shake on the counter and they drink the stuff down as if it were manna.

"I have to get back," Derek says afterwards and places his empty glass by the sink. "Thanks for having me."

"Next time stay a little longer," John replies. "Bring clothes. You can use our shower. I don't think your family home has running water yet."

Derek seems overwhelmed with the sudden and unexpected hospitality.

"No pressure," Stiles adds, trying to diffuse the awkward tension. "See you Saturday?"

"Saturday," Derek forces out roughly, eyes flicking over Stiles' dishevelled appearance. He hesitates for a second more and then flees out of the still open backdoor.

oOo

The morning of their grill party dawns bright and beautiful. Stiles and his father go for another run and spar a little in their backyard. After showering and eating a light lunch, they check what needs to be bought at the store.

"I'll go," John says as he grabs the keys to Stiles' jeep. "You continue with your puzzles. Oh, and get the garden chairs out."

"Will do, daddy-o," Stiles replies and chews on his pen, his mind already on the puzzle-a-day calendar before him.

The sheriff has barely left when a tap at the door disturbs his concentration. Stiles gets up and isn't even surprised when his hand automatically feels for the baseball bat by the door.

"Yeah?" he calls.

"It's me, Stiles," someone says and pauses. "Derek."

"Wha-" Stiles grips the bat tighter. He yanks the door open and stares at the werewolf. "Why are you here already? And why didn't you get in through the window?"

"Your dad is out," Derek says and raises his eyebrows. "He asked me to help you with the set-up."

"When did he … did he pull you over again?"

"I may have been speeding a little," Derek shrugs. "It was a good deal."

Stiles rolls his eyes. "In that case come, our lawn furniture is heavy as fuck."

Derek is surprisingly good at following Stiles' directions when it's not about life or death and he only scowls a little when Stiles offers him a gluten free (but delicious) muffin for his trouble. Afterwards, they lounge on the chairs, bare feet in the grass and faces in the sun. On the table between them glasses with lemonade are sweltering in the heat. It's heavenly and for once the silence doesn't bother Stiles.

When the sheriff returns with the shopping bags, he has Lydia and her mother with him.

"Surprise," he says and smirks at Stiles' flailing limbs. "I'll get the grill going and you can get drinks for our guests."

Lydia and Derek eye each other with mistrust and Mrs Martin seems to feel a little out of place in their wild little garden, but nobody screams and the lemonade is a huge hit with the ladies. They also nibble quite enthusiastically on vegetable sticks and strawberries and Mrs Martin praises John for his ability to light a fire so effortlessly.

"Don't mind her, she's just practicing getting back into the game," Lydia mutters, only a little embarrassed. "It's about time, anyway."

"Why?" Derek asks and surprises Stiles almost as much as he surprises Lydia.

"Because," she flips her hair back and curls her lip, "my father is a lying, cheating bastard that got off too easily in the divorce. I want her happy, and I want her to find a man who is good for her."

Derek's gaze is intense but then he looks off and away into the woods behind their garden after a few moments. Sharing a look, Stiles and Lydia decide that maybe the topic of dating isn't a good one, not with his track record. It's just as well because John gets the fire going and they begin dishing out salads, bread and other snack stuff they can munch on until the coals are ready for the meat, corn cobs and tofu.

"Do you also have grilled veggies?" Lydia asks.

"Coming right up." Stiles balances two iron pans, followed by Derek who holds the plate with the meat.

They start the music and relax in their chairs. The adults drink beer, Stiles and Lydia enjoy water and more of the lemonade. Soon enough, the coals are good and they busy themselves with the main part of the meal. Halfway through, Melissa arrives, still in scrubs but hungry and happy to be there. The sheriff plies her with potato salad and a green smoothie. Once the initial awkwardness is gone, she and Mrs Martin find a lot to talk about. They get along very well, bonding over disappointing husbands and their children while John has Derek in a conversational headlock about his lack of a job and the danger that threatens Beacon Hills. If it weren't so serious, Stiles would've found Derek's stuttering and badly worded euphemism hilarious.

He finds it hilarious anyway, because he's a horrible person.

Lydia smirks as well but it doesn't distract her from her favourite topic: her upcoming math championship.

"There's a huge surprise waiting for you. I was sworn to secrecy but I guess your dad will make his announcement soon," she says.

Derek watches them carefully but doesn't comment, despite his obvious curiosity. The sheriff doesn't make them wait long in any case; after dishing out Stiles' home-baked apple crumble and coffee he looks around and takes in the little gathering of people.

"I'm not one for long speeches so I'll just make a quick announcement and then break out the beer. It's not what the occasion deserves, but Natalie assured me that she doesn't mind."

Mrs Martin smiles and Stiles glances at Lydia.

"To make a not very long story even shorter: Lydia got invited to the most prestigious, state-wide math championship in New York - congratulation for that! - and Natalie generously invited Stiles and I to accompany them on their trip."

Stiles gapes at him. "Really?" he cries. "We both?" When his father nods, he scrambles to his feet and gives Lydia's mother a big, awkward hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Laughing, Mrs Martin pats his back. "You're welcome, Stiles. I'm glad you'll keep Lydia company ... and safe. It'll give John and I time for some adult time."

The sheriff's face flushes and Melissa is the first one to erupt into gales of laughter. Lydia follows because her mother looks positively scandalized about her own words. Their howling is infectious, so naturally Stiles has to laugh, too. Only Derek keeps quiet.

"Hey, you alright, man?" Stiles wheezes. "Come on, you gotta crack up about this, too! Damn, I'll lord this over him for ages!"

That gets him a small smile, but even then the werewolf looks troubled.

John steps next to Derek's chair and claps him on the shoulder. "What's with the long face?" he asks. "Are you homesick?"

"Homesick?" Stiles wipes his streaming eyes and gets himself together.

"After the fire Laura and I lived in New York," Derek says quietly, almost as if he is ashamed. "I didn't want to at first because Peter was still here, but there was no way for us to take him with us, and staying was out of the question."

He and the sheriff share a look that is strangely intimate and Stiles suddenly knows why his father is so adamant about inviting and including him. It's not a topic they'll discuss openly, that much is clear, but he's glad that Derek found someone to talk to.

"You could come with us," John offers, deceptively nonchalant. "Take a break from this town."

Stiles can't believe his ears but at the same time hearing his dad's words makes his heart beat faster and his excitement rise.

"I can't," Derek replies immediately and looks down at his hands. "You know I can't."

"Do I?" The sheriff kneels down and lowers his voice. "All I know is that you had a shitty few months and could do with a holiday."

"The alpha pack-"

"They're after an alpha, or so your uncle said," John interrupts gently. "What will they do if that alpha leaves?"

Derek's pinched face doesn't relax. "They could hurt the people here to draw me back. It's kind of you to ask, but I've caused enough trouble already. I can't leave Beacon Hills unprotected."

"Dude, I hate to say this but we managed without you for years," Stiles says, unwilling to let Derek shoot them down. "Besides, it's not your fault a family of psychos was trying to off you."

"Don't call me dude", Stiles' dad snorts amusedly at Derek's dry tone, "and it might not be my fault, but this is how it is."

"It's just a week," Stiles wheedles. "Scott and Isaac can play at being adults for one week. You totally could show Lydia and I around and take us to all the cool places. Also, I wanna see you stuff your face with one of those huge, crazy New York hot dogs."

He spooks as Lydia drapes herself over his shoulder.

"You really want him to come along?" she asks with all the non-judgement that totally judges him. Melissa and her mother have calmed down and get interested in their conversation.

Stiles popps the 'P' as he says, "Yepp. Two bodyguards are better than one, don't you think?"

Lydia considers Derek for a moment. "Hmmm, daddy always said that having a big dog in a big, dangerous city is a good idea for any pretty girl." She turns to her mother. "Do you think he'd spring for my very own protection detail?"

"I have money," Derek protests, embarrassed and affronted.

Natalie shrugs elegantly. "Why spend it when I have a perfectly rich ex-husband?" Just like that she has her smartphone out and types into it as she speaks. "The flight is already taken care of since John mentioned that you might be coming along. Can you share a room with Stiles? Then John can have his own."

"I-" Derek looks a little steamrolled. "What?"

"Wonderful," Lydia's mother swipes one last time over the screen of her phone and then lets it vanish back into her purse. "The flight is in two weeks, Stiles and John will give you the details."

Melissa smiles widely at them all, completely ignoring the stunned silence. "Wow, you'll have so much fun, I'm already envious. I demand postcards and all the text messages!"

Stiles promises that and more and the evening ends with an almost magical feel to it.

I'm going to New York, Stiles can't help but repeat over and over in his mind as he lays in bed and stares at the moonlit ceiling. I'm going to New York with my dad, Lydia Martin and Derek Hale! Life, I love you right now. Thank you!


End of part 4