With work done for the day, Stiles waited for Malia outside, kicking his feet against the sidewalk as he paced a few feet away from the glass doors. As much as of a gentleman as he was, he would have waited for her at her department, but Malia was adamant that they keep their personal relationship away from the relationship they had at work. Though everyone knew they were dating, and had been dating for years, Malia was against any forms of affection outside of the designated "them" time. Aggressive as she may be, she prided herself as a professional - a trait she continually berated Stiles for not having.

About ten minutes of standing outside with nothing to do (something Stiles wasn't that great at handling), Malia joined him so that they could walk to the nearby Italian restaurant for an early dinner.

"Have you met Mr. Hale yet?" she asked as she dug into her pasta like a starving animal.

Stiles almost choked on his own pasta. "What? Uh, what do you mean?"

She narrowed her dark eyes at him suspiciously, seemingly trying to decipher if he was being his usual scatter-brained self or if something else was the matter with him. Stiles cringed under her fierce attention until she decided that he was just being his weird self, and explained exasperatedly, "I heard he was going by each department to observe everyone. Has he observed the Design Department yet?"

"Oh. Yea, yea, he did."

The narrowed eyes came back. This time in astonished disapproval. Stiles was well acquainted with that look from her. "How are you not excited about this?" she demanded, her voice a practical growl, as if his lack of enthusiasm was a direct offense to her. "We're talking about the founder of the company. He revolutionized the concept of security for the average person. He took a corporate business and turned it into something that people who didn't have any money could still feel safe. And now he's here. He can turn the company around again. Maybe with some visionary help from others," she preened with the clear indication that she meant herself. "Aren't you excited about that?"

He nodded enthusiastically, if only because he knew just how important this was to her. Malia wasn't generally an overly enthusiastic person, but whenever a conversation turned to the security of the commonwealth, she became fiercely passionate. She had lost her mother and younger sister due to a lack of security available to those who couldn't pay for more than a deadbolt when she was eight, and had spent the years afterwards determined to make sure that even those in poverty could protect themselves.

Stiles had once asked her why she hadn't chosen law enforcement instead (she'd be great that), but she had only ever scoffed at his suggestion, never really providing a reason.

"You know what I really want?" Malia continued, her eyes shining intensely. "A one-on-one with him. That would really be a career boost. Don't you think?"

"You could share all your ideas," he agreed, while internally he was shaking his head at himself. A one-on-one with Derek Hale certainly hadn't been a career boost for Stiles.

"Yea. And just to hear him talk would be great. I think we share a lot in common you know. So it would be really inspirational to have a conversation with him."

It wasn't often that Malia rambled, so Stiles uncharacteristically kept his lips on a tighter leash, nodding when appropriate and smiling encouraging when needed. She deserved his undivided attention, he reminded himself as he listened to her plans to gain Derek's notice and approval (which also meant listening and not taking heart to her subtle digs at his own lack of plans on improving his image at work).

After dinner, Malia called for a cab, stating that they would spend the rest of evening at her place. Though he had actually been planning on returning to his own place so he could finish his application process for the graduate program, he followed Malia's lead. It was clear to him that Malia needed to voice out her ideas, and he figured he could do his application over the weekend.

And he had really thought she would hash out her ideas with him, needing an ear to talk to or someone to provide miniscule feedback. Or, as he walked into Malia's loft and saw the printed out rentals available nearby, he thought they might go over where the two would be moving into (because as much as Malia pressured him into moving in with her, he wasn't too inclined to do so, and he had been convincing her that they needed to get their own separate, yet to be unclaimed place).

What actually ended up happening was the two sitting on her bed and leaning against the headboard, both with laptops on their outstretched legs. "I need to know everything I can about Mr. Hale so that when I do get my one-on-one with him, he'll be too impressed to walk away." Stiles just nodded understandably and did what she implicitly was asking him to do. They remained that way for hours, only breaking for snacks and water, until the sun had lowered itself completely and Malia set aside his laptop to settle herself there instead.

He woke up to a bruising kiss the next morning, Mallia smiling that predator smile of hers against his lips. "Come on, get up," she urged, pulling him roughly to his feet.

"Wha…?" Stiles murmured sleepily, his lips moving as if still kissing though she had already moved away. Blinking groggily, he managed to open his eyes. "What time is it?"

"5:30."

"Ugh," he sighed, flopping back down onto her mattress despite her grip on his arm. "Too early."

She laughed good naturedly at his antics, though maybe her laughter was a little too harsh to be called good naturedly. Either way, she kissed him again, just as rough as before, and pulled once more to get him to his feet. "I've been going to work early ever since Derek started," she informed him. "It makes a good impression. So come on, you need all the good impressions you can get."

Which was how Stiles found himself at work far too early to do anything, and too early to meet with Lydia. He was practically falling asleep at his desk by the time everyone else started filing in. At Jackson's snickering, Stiles jerked himself awake, wiping away the dribble of drool that had formed at the corner of his mouth.

"No, no, keep sleeping. It's not like you have work or anything."

"It wasn't like I was sleeping on company time," Stiles muttered irritably.

But even as company time actually started, Stiles's eyes felt heavy and occasionally they closed for just a moment too long. Then, about an hour in, as Stiles still struggled to keep his eyes opened and focused, a note was handed to him over the divider. "What's this?'

"Drink orders for the meeting," Finstock stated. Stiles took the note and glared at it. It was indeed drink orders. Ones that could only be bought at Starbucks along the street."

"Meeting?"

"Interdepartmental meeting. Starts in forty-five minutes."

Honestly, the meeting itself shouldn't have come as a surprise. A meeting with members from each department was scheduled once a week, but just because it was on their company calender didn't mean anyone took it seriously. As far as Stiles knew, only four or five attended at most, with most wanting to discuss business through emails. Because of this, they didn't usually serve drinks, especially not special ordered ones. Stiles was close to asking about this strangeness when he realized the answer himself. Obviously, Derek was going to be there.

"Well, hurry up," Finstock ordered, already on his way towards the door. "I'll see you there."

"Wait!" Stiles flailed. Finstock stopped and turned with an irritated scowl. "Do I have to be in the meeting?" A reasonable question, Stiles thought, seeing as he had never attended one before. Finstock stared, his response not requiring actual words. Groaning aloud, Stiles jumped over the divider and headed out the door as well.

The retrieval of the drinks was rather quick, but it did give Stiles some time to think of an action plan. So far it consisted of the following steps: get in, drop off drinks, slink to the back, and avoid all contact with Derek. It wouldn't be hard, Stiles told himself as he entered the lobby with drinks in hand. A lot of people at the company were obsessed with making a good impression on the boss, and therefore would be clambering for his attention while Stiles could successfully do the opposite. He was feeling fairly confident with this plan by the time he had his finger pressed against the elevator button.

But damn if nothing could ever go the way Stiles needed them to go. Because there Derek was, already standing in the elevator that had just opened for Stiles, phone to his ear. At the sight of the man he hadn't wanted to see anytime soon, Stiles startled backwards. He was just about to bolt, in fact, when Derek put his phone away and tilted his head to one side with a curious stare. It wasn't adorable, Stiles told himself, but yet he was stuck in place and staring without a word.

Derek's lips twisted subtly in amusement. "Are you getting in?"

Ridiculously, Stiles was going to say no. "I just like to press buttons" was on the tip of his tongue. That was, until Derek reached his arm out to keep the elevator doors open and Stiles was silently pressured inside.

Inside an elevator. Alone with Derek Hale. Who already knew all of his secrets. And was constantly catching him at embarrassing moments. Yea, Stiles bemoaned internally, he was never going to be able to set a good impression.