"How was your day?" Scott greeted from the couch when Stiles entered the loft.
"A nightmare," Stiles groaned, plopping down beside him. Big brown puppy dog eyes looked at him expectantly and a little sadly. It was more than enough for Stiles to take in a deep breath and begin his tirade. "So...On the flight back from Chicago there was some turbulence." Scott nodded as if this was new information. "Well, there was this guy sitting next to me. And you have to understand that I thought I was about to die. I mean, I was really freaked out. Understandably so. And I thought he was going to be the last person I would ever see."
"Oh my God," Scott gasped. "You had sex with him! Wow. But what about Malia. Man, she's…"
"I didn't have sex!" Stiles shouted. The people across the hall probably heard it. A little quieter, but just as frantic, Stiles continued, "I told him all my secrets."
Out of all of Scott's respsonses to Stiles's misery, laughter was the least expected. And yet hat was exactly what Scott did. He laughed. "You don't have any secrets."
Stiles was appalled. He showed such by his jaw dropping. "Of course I have secrets." He had a hundred secrets...all of which had been shared to a stranger he was never supposed to see again...but did! "Everyone has secrets. You have secrets."
"I don't have secrets," Scott denied vehemently as if the mere suggestion was offensive.
"Yes you do."
"No I don't."
"Yes you do."
"No…" Just then, Isaac, their other roommate, came out into the living room, his eyes scanning every inch that was visible to him. His obvious need for something engendered Scott's natural impulse to help. "Everything okay?"
"I can't find my scarf."
Stiles scoffed. Unlike Scott, his need to help was practically non-existent. Especially when it concerned Isaac. "Which one?" The guy had to have more than a hundred, worn no matter how hot or humid it was outside.
Either ignoring Stiles's insincerity or not caring, Isaac answered, "The dark blue with a light blue stripe."
A wise - on the edge of psychotic - grin appeared on Stiles's face. "Well I haven't seen it," He stated, dramatically placing his hand over his heart. He turned to Scott with gleaming, honey coated eyes. "What about you Scotty? Have you seen Isaac's scarf?"
Blood rushing up his neck and ears, Scott sputtered, "Uh, no. I haven't seen it. Sorry." It was amazing that Isaac could believe him, but when it came to Scott Isaac tended trust blindly. With a musing frown, he went back to his room.
"You don't have any secrets huh?" Stiles mocked as soon as the door closed. He knew for a fact that Scott had borrowed that scarf the last time they had gone back to Beacon Hills and had lost it.
"Ok, ok. You've made your point. " Scott relented, wanting to drop the subject as soon as possible in case Isaac came back into the living room. Stiles was tempted to point out more secrets his best friend was still hiding, such as what he had going on with Kira that he refused to talk about, but before he could, Scott went on. "But I don't see the problem anyway. So you told some guy some of your secrets."
"No. Not some of my secrets. All of my secrets. And it's not some guy. He turned up at work today."
"Are you serious? Is he stalking you?"
"Apparently he's the co-founder of Wolf Security."
"Wow. But I mean, still, it can't be that bad, right?"
Stiles shook his head, letting it fall into awaiting palms. "Oh, it's bad. So bad."
The next day, Stiles was determined to do his best to avoid Derek. Scott had managed to calm Stiles down enough to reason that if he hadn't been fired yet then things would probably be okay. "He probably doesn't even care," was the reassuring thought. So Stiles had walked down the busy street that morning in a slightly better spirit than he had wallowed in the day before.
He met Lydia near the coffee shop, accepting her slender arm around his waist as she described her date from yesterday evening. As expected, the date itself sounded amazing, but Lydia had critical judgements to share about the guy. "He'll do for another date or two. Get another high priced dinner out of it. But he won't last any longer than that."
Once done, they reached the glass doors of the company and she turned her head in expectation, silently reminding him that he needed to give up equal information on his part. She wouldn't accept his silence as she had last time. Safely keeping the topic of anything work related, he shared, "Malia and I are going to move in together."
When that fact had been relayed to his roommates, they'd nodded in understanding in an 'about time' kind of way. Lydia had a completely different response. She rolled her eyes. "Well, that's never going to work." Then, with her head held high, she stalked off.
Pushing Lydia's opinion away, as well as the doubt and insecurity she was an expert had creating, Stiles went upstairs to get some quiet time to himself before either of his coworkers arrived for work, and subsequently put him to work on menial tasks. Only Finstock ever beat him to the department floor.
When he stepped into the Design Department, however, he was struck dumb to see that he was actually the last person there. More surprisingly was how quiet everyone was. Not so surprisingly was Jackson's disdain at his arrival, "Ugh, it's only you."
"It's always a pleasure to see you too pumpkin," Stiles snarked back. He stopped in front of Ericka's desk, leaning over the wooden divider to whisper conspiratorially, "What's going on here?"
She rose a delicately brushed eyebrow before shooing him away as if he were a buzzing insect. "You might want to go see a doctor if your memory is that bad." She started tapping on her keyboard, flipping her blonde hair to show off some expensive diamond earrings (not that Stiles judged, but they were probably fake). "Derek hale is here."
"Well sure but he's not here, here." The guy had already come by yesterday to observe the departments, and most likely had better things to do than to repeat the process. He was the head honcho afterall. Plus, if he were there that would mean Stiles's day would just be as bad as the day before, and that just couldn't happen. Wanting to believe his coworkers were paranoid, he ignored their uncharacteristic quiet typing, and jumped over the divider to his own desk.
"Good morning Mr. Hale," Erika called out in a sickly sweet tone.
Stiles figured she was just messing with him until a low rumble answered back with, "Good morning."
Like a clumsy deer, Stiles fell on the floor, barely missing his head from hitting his head on the corner of his desk. Heart beating rapidly, and his whole body flushed with embarrassment, he awkwardly pulled himself into his chair. By the time he was settled, Derek had already reached his personal space, elbows leaning against the divider.
A subtle, amused grin graced his handsomely stubbled expression. "Are you okay?" His tone was mocking, a masculine laughter hidden beneath.
All Stiles could do was blush and nod.
"Good." Derek turned, facing the rest of the department, all of whom were slyly smirking at Stiles's expense. "I appreciated getting to know everyone briefly yesterday, but today I was hoping to observe each department a little more informally." He took a seat at the center table that none of them actually ever used. "So please, pretend I'm not here."
That would have meant the department would have gone back to its casual frostiness - the type of environment that often reminded Stiles of high school. Erika would be multi-tasking, doing her job while also painting her nails, checking her personal emails, or talking to her boyfriend. Jackson would have had his feet propped up on the desk while either barking out orders at Stiles or dishing out insults. Finstock would be grumbling the entire time. And Stiles would have already taken off his shoes and procrastinated as much as possible before actually getting started on the files or whatever errands had been passed onto him.
But Derek was there, leaned back comfortably, watching them curiously. Therefore, everyone was working quietly and diligently, no sign of unprofessionalism or hostility.
"Is it always so quiet?" Derek asked after a while. Everyone froze; frauds caught in the act. "When we first started out, we were always talking about something: family, current events, books." he was looking to each of them in inquisition, before finally landing on Stiles and remaining there. "What has everyone been reading?"
The responses were immediate, each one vying for attention, believing for some reason that their choice of literature would make or break their reputation in the eyes of their boss. Erika was apparently halfway through Crime and Punishment, Jackson had just finished reading the Iliad, and Finstock was currently reading the autobiography Christiano Ronaldo (that was one was probably true). Stiles was the only one who didn't' answer.
He hoped his lack of response would go unnoticed. Or at the very least, that Jackson and Erika would keep talking to distract Derek away from him. Unfortunately, dark green hues narrowed on him instantly. "And you?" There was a crinkle at the edges of his eyes.
"Oh, well, I'm, uh… Currently, I guess…"
"Weren't you reading the first volume of Sherlock Holmes?" Erika offered, thinking she was helping. She wasn't.
Because while that was in fact true - Stiles loved Sherlock Holmes and had actually been on his second read through his stories - it wasn't the entire truth. Only Derek, whose eyes were gleaming mischievously, knew the entire truth of the matter. That the reason he was reading through the stories a second time was because he was writing fanfiction about Sherlock and Watson, rewriting each one with a homoerotic twist. "Oh? What did you enjoy about it?" Stiles flushed under the knowing gaze.
His coworkers must have thought he was a moron to be sitting there, blushing from a seemingly innocent inquiry about an innocent book, but most likely they had thought he was a moron beforehand anyways.
It was Finstock who ended up saving him from himself. The Coach changed the subject entirely by bringing up the Family Picnic that would be held in the upcoming weeks. He raved about the event and talked about how excited he was to see everyone and their loved ones there. It was a good distraction away from Stiles, and was therefore much appreciated, but that didn't take away from the false tone of Coach's words. In the past, the Family Picnic had been a mandatory event that everyone in the company dreaded, and that Finstock himself mercilessly mocked.
Stiles wondered if Derek could hear the lies.
