Claire's spying days were over. For one, she sucked at it. For two, the overwhelming urge to search Derek Hale's name on the internet was completely overshadowed by her apprehension at finding out what Derek Hale had done. She knew from the moment she met him that he was dangerous, but seeing him get arrested had driven the point home. If he turned out to be a murderer, Claire was sure she would be filled with dread for months from the knowledge of how close she could have been at becoming a victim. She was in alone in the woods with him, for Pete's sake!

As it turned out, she didn't have to do any searching to find out the unwanted information.

That night, Claire was washing dishes, and talking to her mom about their day.

"Did you hear about that crazy murder story in the news?" her mom asked, flipping through the television stations.

Her mind made the jump immediately. Her stomach did a little flip of apprehension in turn.

Claire swallowed, concentrating very hard on scrubbing a plate. "No. What happened?"

"Some guy here in Beacon Hills got arrested for murdering his sister. She was ripped in half, and he buried her in his yard. But, it turns out an animal did it, and he was let go. Creepy little guy. Lives in some burned down house in the woods. Why would you not tell somebody your sister was ripped in half by an animal, and then bury her in your yard?"

Claire gave a noncommittal shrug and kept scrubbing. Her mom gave her an odd look. She imagined that her face must be some mixture of horror, disgust, and relief.

"I know. Pretty weird, huh?" she inquired, looking a little concerned.

"Yeah. That's crazy."

That night, Claire didn't fall asleep until well after midnight. When she finally did slip into unconsciousness, she dreamt of dark houses and dark eyes.

oOo

For the next two weeks, Claire immersed herself in work, and since that didn't take up a ton of her time, she started going to the gym. Being exhausted helped her to not think about "things," and a hot body couldn't hurt, right?

She was in the middle of her workout, doing squats, when a lovely female voice behind her said, "Stay more in your heels. It'll help."

Claire quickly racked the bar, and turned around, embarrassed.

There stood one of the prettiest girls she'd ever seen. She had to be around high school age. Seventeen, maybe. She was long and willowy, with dark curly brown hair and eyes to match. Her skin was a creamy white, which made her pink pouty lips stand out all the more. Claire immediately felt inadequate, but the friendly look on her face took some of the edge off.

"Uhhh...I'm still learning. I've watched a few videos on technique, but I guess it hasn't all gone through," she tapped her head and laughed awkwardly.

The girl smiled. "I thought you were doing great! You had your chest up, and your squats were below parallel and everything! I've just spent so long with my dad yelling, 'stay in your heels!' I know what to look for. I'm Allison, by the way." She held out her hand.

Claire knew she had just made a new friend.

"Claire," she smiled and shook her hand. She was surprised by Allison's firm grip. Her parents had taught her to always shake hands with a firm grip, but she knew from experience that most girls (and an alarming amount of guys) shook with a hand like a dead fish. She felt even more respect for Allison. This was a girl that you wouldn't want to mess with.

For the next half an hour, the girls worked on lifts, with Allison giving the occasional technique advice. Afterwards, they exchanged numbers, and promised to hang out sometime soon. It was good to know that she had made a new friend. All through high school, Claire was neither an outcast, nor a social hermit, but she was quiet most of the time, and not many of her few friends were in town for the summer. She was glad she could have some "girl time" apart from her mother.

After Claire was done working out, she once again headed to the grocery store. Her mom was making something for dinner that required particularly specific ingredients, and Claire wasn't one to complain if she got to spend an hour or so by herself at the store. Quickly swinging into a parking spot, she flipped down the visor and looked in the mirror. Her hair was wet with her sweat and was falling out of her hair tie. She tried to fix it, but to no avail. She would just have to look like a sweaty monster. Hopefully the public could handle it.

oOo

"Gluten-free pasta," she read off the list. "Who the hell eats gluten-free pasta?"

"I do!" snapped an old lady as she snatched a box from the shelf and zoomed away in her motorized buggy.

Shaking her head, she placed the pasta in the basket, and started pushing her buggy towards the end of the aisle.

That's when she saw him. He stood at the opposite end of the aisle, concentrating very hard at whatever was on the shelf.

Claire gave a very audible squeak, and turned her buggy around and into the next aisle so fast that Fast and Furious: Tokyo Drift flashed before her eyes. People may have gotten hit. She wasn't sure. As she rushed down the aisle, her only goal was to get to the cash register as quickly as possible. Right before she could reach the end of the aisle though, a large hand sprinkled with black hair grabbed her cart, effectively stopping her. Without looking at him in the face, Claire dug her feet into the ground and started to push her cart with all her strength like a football player. Naturally, the cart didn't move.

"What the hell are you doing?" said that oh-so-familiar voice. It sounded almost entertained.

"Trying," she grunted as she struggled on, "to grocery shop."

She heard him snort.

"Funny way of grocery shopping. We need to talk."

Knowing the game was over, Claire stopped pushing the cart, huffed like a child, and finally looked up at his green eyes. She felt her stomach do a somersault. She knew he was dangerous, that's probably why he seemed so damn attractive, but she couldn't help but notice a look of desperation in his eyes that she had never seen on anybody before in her life. When Derek saw how she was analyzing him, he raised an eyebrow, and the look was gone. Now he just looked annoyed.

"What about?"

"Not here. Pay for your groceries and meet me in my car."

"In your car? I'm not sure if I feel comfor-"

Derek sighed and rolled his eyes. He was a little on the dramatic side, Claire thought.

"Well, get comfortable. We need to talk."

"You already said that, Mr. Bossy Pants," she mumbled to herself.

When she looked up, she knew he had heard her. The look he was giving her was murderous, and it took a lot of restraint on her part not to take a step back.

"I'll be outside."

Then he turned around on his heel and walked right out the store without another word to her. How rude! Claire could not believe this man could be so arrogant as to think that he could just tell her to meet him in his car, and expect her to just obey.

Fuck that! She wasn't going anywhere with that creep, no matter how hot he was. Nobody told Claire Dawson what to do! She felt so sassy, she almost started snapping a Z formation in the air.

It seemed as though with every item the cashier swiped and put into a bag, Claire's confidence drained a little more. After she had paid for her groceries, she nervously stepped outside with her bags. Her eyes darted around, looking for that familiar silhouette. She was about to step off of the curb and into the parking lot, when all of a sudden a shiny black Camaro screeched out in front of her. Claire let out a squeak. She really needed to stop doing that.

The dark window rolled down, and there he was. "Get in," he said leaning towards her from the driver's seat. Inside his fancy car, wearing his aviators and his leather jacket, he looked like the definition of cool. Claire found herself opening the door and sliding in without a thought. As she set her groceries in the floorboard, her brain kicked in.

Wait, what are you doing Claire? Stop. Stop!

Too late. They were already speeding out of the parking lot.

They turned onto the main road, and Derek punched the gas, sending Claire flying back into her seat.

"You are a very angry person!" Claire blurted, trying not to panic at the speed they were zipping around cars.

"Oh yeah?" Derek replied in the most sarcastic voice she had ever heard. Derek Hale truly was the rudest person she had ever met.

"Yes. You know, you should really work on that. Breathing techniques, visualization, I could show you if you'd like."

"No breathing techniques are going to help me. And you definitely couldn't."

He gave a short laugh after that, but there was no joy in it.

"Where are we going?" Claire tried to demand, but it just came out as a pathetically apprehensive question.

He didn't answer her as he sped on, and Claire gulped.

Well, if I get murdered today, at least it will be by someone really hot, she thought shallowly as he turned onto a small side road.