The study was dark, the lamp barely lit. Stiles didn't want to draw too much attention to the fact that he was awake so late at night and so far from his room. He only lit the lamps on the far side of the room, and even then he kept them turned low, about half their normal brightness. The lighting made the study seem larger, more imposing, but somehow calmer. Sitting in his scribe's chair at his scribe's desk, Stiles tapped his fingers and tried not to dose off.

It was easy to dose off though. He simply laid his head in his folded arms and stared at the compartment on the desk that held his inks. Then, slowly, his eyelids drooped and fell shut. Simple.

Sleeping was not part of the plan, of course. No, the plan involved Allison, several hours earlier, sidling up to Derek Hale on his return from business with her father. The two men had been holed up inside Lord Argent's office for most of the day, even taking lunch in there, and had only emerged for the thought of dinner.

That was when Allison struck. Before her aunt or anyone of importance could hear, Allison found her way to Derek's side, and they exchanged a warm greeting. Allison asked what Derek's favorite thing to do after dark was, to which he said reading.

"Ah, good choice," she said. "Personally, I'm not a fan of reading in the dark. However, I find our study very alluring after nightfall. It's the farthest room from the living quarters, so you have peace and privacy. Yes, I find the best writing happens in there… at night… if you understand my meaning?"

If the plan worked, Derek would say yes he did, and then all Stiles had to do was wait on him. Dinner gave Stiles no clues at all to whether the invitation to meet had succeeded. Derek glanced at him only a few times, and his eyes did not linger. Most of his attention was on Earl Gévaudan and, to a large extent, Lady Allison. He struck up a long conversation about her plans for her future as far as schooling. It only got longer when Earl Gévaudan added his two cents that she should be focusing on marriage, not academics, though he loved that she was so smart, of course. Lady Kate was bored silly of the conversation almost before it started and tried several times to divert it away from thoughts of her niece and onto herself or Derek, but no one aided her attempts, so they fell flat. She fumed noticeably but did not lash out in front of company.

So when everyone retired for the evening, Stiles had no idea if his plan would even work. He'd seen very little of Derek after their ride the day before, and nothing at all of him besides dinner today. It was hard to read someone when you barely saw them. Stiles went to the study as soon as he deemed it safe. After over two hours with no company, of course, he'd nodded off.

The sound of the door shutting in the study did not wake him. Someone placing a hand on his shoulder only made him grunt as he fought to stay asleep. But then a low voice called his name and his heart gave a hopeful start, finally stirring his consciousness.

"Stiles?" Derek called, leaning in slightly.

The scribe jumped awake, sitting stiffly upright and finding Derek with wide, startled eyes. After the initial shock wore off, Stiles groaned and stretched his back, which was sore from his napping position. When he settled again, he found Derek watching him with those intense eyes, even more intense in the half dark of the room.

"Sorry," Derek said. "I believe I've kept you waiting. But, in my defense, I wasn't sure if you'd really be here."

"I was starting to think you wouldn't show up," Stiles admitted. That made Derek frown and turn his face away. "I'm glad you did."

The gentleman grunted and set down the candle he'd been using to find his way through the house. "It's frustrating that I can't speak with you openly in front of the Argents. Of course speaking to a scribe is not unusual, but the things I want to discuss would give away your letters, and I don't want to bring you any trouble."

The things Stiles wanted to talk about would get him in trouble even if the letters did not exist.

"I'll meet you away from the others if you want to discuss something," Stiles offered, a slight stress on the word 'discuss'. He stood up, forcing Derek back a step, but they were still so close together. "Give me a sign, and I'll meet you anywhere."

He meant it, too. He was tired of wishing he could say certain things and do certain things. He was tired of feeling trapped in his life instead of living it. He wanted Derek Hale, at least some part of him, and he didn't want to hide that anymore.

"I'm nine years older than you," Derek murmured, and his lack of retreat told Stiles all he needed to know about whether or not Derek had an interest in this affair.

"What's your point?" Stiles asked. His hand reached up for Derek's jaw, to feel the stubble there, but he hesitated. What did age have to do with genuine attraction? People married people twice their age for money all the time, so why should Stiles care about a measly nine years when feelings were involved?

"You-" Derek turned his face away and took half a step back, but Stiles grabbed his bicep to stop his retreat. "You couldn't believe Kate's gall in wooing me a decade ago because there was an age gap of eight years. I would be more inexcusable, then, to want your attentions."

Stiles blanched. He'd never considered such a thing – that he'd written such terrible things about Kate's actions and yet was encouraging a similar idea now. But they were nothing alike! Kate was manipulative and cared nothing for Derek as a person. Derek cared, at least. Didn't he?

"I've recalled those facts several times in the last month, even more so this last week," Derek admitted.

"Don't be an idiot," Stiles admonished. "You didn't have any interest in Katherine Argent, not ten years ago when she foiled your life and not now when she sought you out for some marriage plot."

The older man's eyes were hard, his mouth set in a thin line, and he breathed very deeply. "And you?" he asked. "Are you saying you have an interest?"

Stiles didn't hesitate this time. His fingers slid up and over Derek's newborn stubble. He had not shaved that morning. It was coarse and scratchy, but Stiles caressed all the way up to Derek's ear and into his hair.

"I have an inhumanly positive interest," he said, watching the lord's eyes slide shut at the sensation of Stiles' hand.

It was intoxicating, knowing his simple touch, the feeling of his fingers in Derek's hair, could make Derek look so passionate. His forehead was creased, trapped in some expression between pain and bliss. Unlike Stiles, it would seem Derek had not talked himself out of caring about propriety.

"Let me have just one piece of you," Stiles said, placating. "Then you can decide how much more you're willing to give. I understand if you can't, or won't, give me more. I'm well aware of my position in life, and of yours. I'm not delusional. I just decided I didn't care. Not if you don't."

Would Derek not even give him this one moment? He'd come out at night to meet Stiles in private. He'd risked scandal already. Would he stop now? Stiles didn't want him to stop. Stiles wanted to sneak around the Argents like a child stealing candy from the kitchens. Derek was the first thing he'd wanted since moving in with the Argents that he actually had the power to grab hold of. Derek was the first desire Stiles wanted to let himself have.

But what if Derek said no?

Stiles hadn't really considered that far. In his mind, Derek showing up at all was a seal of approval, but now… Now he wasn't so sure.

What if Derek said no?

"I am not sure what pieces of me there are left to give," Derek murmured, his hand finding Stiles' in his hair and pulling it away. Stiles' heart sank, and he was sure it was reflected on his face. But Derek wasn't looking at him. His eyes were closed as he brought Stiles' hand to his lips and held it there. "But you've already half stolen part of me, so I suppose I can let you have this."

He kissed Stiles' palm and sent sparks tingling down his veins. Then he kissed the palm once more before pressing his lips to Stiles' wrist. Stiles swallowed thickly and let out a heave of a breath.

"Derek," he said, but it was more of a gasp.

Then Derek's lips were on his, and it was so sweet and yet strong that Stiles' toes curled, and he stretched up taller to press himself further into the feeling. He hadn't been wrong! Derek did have affections for him in return. Now that he knew the truth, Stiles didn't know if just this moment would ever be enough, despite what he'd said. How could he just let Derek pass him by if they felt so similarly about each other?

Derek broke the kiss, holding Stiles' eager lips away with a hand to the younger's chest. "I've been imagining that since you walked in, dirty and wet, to defend me from the butler."

Stiles groaned in embarrassment, but he still tried to lean forward for another kiss. Derek didn't let him. "I know," he whined. "I looked like a mess when you first saw me. Don't remind me."

They didn't kiss again, but Derek did lean in to press their foreheads together. "I thought you looked irresistible." His gentle actions did not match the timber with which he said those words, and Stiles groaned again.

"Damn it, Derek," he said. "You run the very real risk of killing me if you don't kiss me again right now."

He didn't have to ask twice, and that was exhilarating. Derek kissed him again, several times, breath hot where it escaped along Stiles' cheek. Stiles didn't know what to do with his injured hand. Derek still held his free hand, but the broken one couldn't decide between Derek's shoulder and his face. It was probably awkward and definitely not proper, but Derek didn't seem to mind.

After several moments, Derek broke away again. He took a deep breath and held it, the picture of reining in self-control. Stiles loved the look of him. Then he placed his hand on Stiles' shoulder and took a step back.

"We shouldn't get carried away," he murmured, not looking at Stiles. "The Argents are not simpletons. They'll suspect."

"Derek Hale," Stiles began, new hope pouring through him. "Are you saying-"

"I told you, Stiles. You've already stolen a piece of me. I can't take it back," Derek said, returning his gaze to Stiles. He swallowed thickly. "I apologize. I cannot be with you in front of Lady Katherine or her father or- Or anyone. If I trusted any of them with you, maybe-"

His eyes were on Stiles' injured fingers then, and his jaw clenched. Stiles could almost hear his thoughts – about wanting to get Stiles away from such a household. They sounded exactly like-

"Allison," Stiles interrupted. "I trust Allison."

The rest of the household might snitch on them to Gerard, out of loyalty or fear. The other Argents may be conniving, power-hungry nobles. But Allison was on his side, on their side. He would stake his life on it.

"I have an idea."

Allison was brilliant. She was so good at her studies and her rule following that no one doubted her intentions most of… ever. So it was only too easy for her to suggest at breakfast that Derek should see their hometown from a citizen point of view instead of a business one.

"He's been out twice with you, father, but only as a nobleman. You know how useful it can be to see how people are when they aren't being overshadowed by a man with a title. Let me give Lord Hale a tour of the town today, and he will be that much more informed when you steal him again tomorrow," she said.

Both Lord Argents seemed swayed, but neither gave in right away. Her grandfather smirked at her father, clearly proud of something she'd said or done. Lord Argent hmm'd and cleared his throat as he considered the idea, stalling. Lady Katherine would undoubtedly have argued against it, but she was not at breakfast. A woman had come to the door just before the bell rang and requested a private audience with Lady Katherine Argent. So they were pleasantly spared her insistence against Allison's idea.

"Come now, father. You'll have him for another three weeks yet. I only want to borrow him for a day." She smiled at him, the picture of helpful innocence.

Lord Argent smiled back, his love for his daughter clear on his face. Stiles, finally at a breakfast with Derek, watched the exchange with a sort of jealousy. Lord Argent never looked at Stiles with a tenth as much admiration as that. But on the other hand, he couldn't hate a man who loved Allison so much. It made Lord Argent admirable by association. He was a good father.

But as Lord Argent opened his mouth, clearly about to agree, his father began speaking for him.

"I think it's a splendid idea," Earl Gévaudan said, glee in his face and tone. "What better company could Lord Hale ask for? Our Allison is just the picture perfect choice, wouldn't you say, Christopher? And you, Lord Hale? You can have no objections to the idea, I'm sure!"

Lord Argent seemed less than pleased now. That was interesting. Sure he'd never appreciated being interrupted before, but Stiles had never seen his mood sour so quickly at his father's voice.

"I would welcome your granddaughter's insight," Derek answered diplomatically. "But only with her father's permission."

"You have it, of course," Lord Argent agreed, though he seemed less than excited. "But choose a servant to accompany you. It's not appropriate for you to be alone together."

"Now listen, son-" Earl Gévaudan tried to argue, but Lord Argent held up his hand to silence him, his eyes on his daughter. The old man spluttered and grumbled indignantly before reaching angrily for his wine glass.

"Especially in the carriage," he continued. "But I'm sure I already know who you'll choose."

Allison glanced over at Stiles, but she was careful not to glance toward Derek immediately after. Her smile was beaming. "And you approve?"

"Approve?" the man asked, his smile returning. "This is me encouraging you."

If there had not been a table between them, Allison would surely have leapt up and hugged her father. As there was a table, however, she simply smiled and bowed her head to him in gratitude. Earl Gévaudan coughed after a long drink from his wine glass and frowned around the table.

"Who are we talking about, then?" he asked.

No one answered him.

The carriage ride began in silence. Allison sat opposite Derek, and Stiles sat beside her. As they rocked down the driveway, no one spoke. The drive never seemed so long. Stiles cast several glances at Derek, and Derek almost smiled a few times, as though they were playing some sort of game.

As soon as the carriage turned onto the main road, Allison let out a heavy breath. "Alright. No need to play coy with me now. Or with each other. Go on, Stiles." She waved him away from her impatiently, half pushing him to the other side of the carriage.

As soon as his butt hit the seat, he felt his hand scooped up by Derek. The lord, it seemed, was fed up with his pretenses. He held firm to Stiles' hand, his thumb caressing slowly. Electricity started building in Stiles' chest, but he did his best to hold it at bay.

"Thank you for your assistance, Miss Argent," Derek said and bowed his head. "I know it can't be easy to lie to your family."

"On the contrary, I'm quite fond of doing it," Allison assured with a grin. "And please, at least in private, call me Allison. We should consider each other friends now, seeing as we're conspiring together."

Derek hummed and nodded, but Stiles had the suspicion that it wouldn't be as easy for him to call her by her first name as it was for him to drop all honorifics with Stiles. Derek's free hand reached over to rest on Stiles' knee, which Stiles only just realized he'd been bouncing. At Derek's touch, he stilled, embarrassed, but Derek didn't seem to really mind.

"Speaking of conspiring," Derek began, his attention back on Allison, "Perhaps you can help me in another venture. I've been at your home for barely a week, and… I feel as if I'm staring through a window at a terrible scene, unable to see the full picture and unable to fix the parts I can see." He glanced at Stiles' hand in his, where Stiles' fingers were still bandaged. "This is not your first broken bone in the Argent household."

It wasn't a question. Stiles wished it had been. He hated that Derek took one look at him and saw him as injured, as someone who needed saving. Turning his face to the window, his pulled his hand free from Derek's grasp and covered it with his own in his lap.

"My fingers are going to be fine," he grunted, avoiding the statement entirely.

"Stiles-" Derek pressed.

Allison interrupted. "If you're asking for my help, you have it. I've wanted a way to free Stiles from my aunt almost from the moment she got her claws into him. However, I don't have the resources necessary to pull off such a venture." She leaned forward, gripping her hands tight in front of her. "But you can help me fix that."

"What do you need me to do?" Derek asked, just as focused and serious.

"You have lawyers in your family. Write to them. My aunt says Stiles is indebted to her because of business between her and his father. When Mr. Sti-" She glanced at Stiles, who shot her a warning glare, and cleared her throat. "When his father died, my aunt says it cost her a lot of money. If we can find the documentation, find out how much he owes her-"

"Consider it done," Derek said, nodding with his serious eyebrows and his serious jaw line and his serious mental lapse. "However, I will need to know his father's name to –"

"Hold up." Stiles put his hands up and shook his head. "No one is going to buy me out of debt. Then I'm just in debt to someone new."

Allison looked unimpressed. She gently smacked his hands back down. "And you mean to say you wouldn't rather be indebted to Lord Hale than to my aunt? You'd rather stay at the Argent Estate and break another rib?"

Derek's eyebrows shot up in concern before drawing low in confusion. Stiles waved the idea away. "I'm not saying that at all. I'm just saying I don't want your money." He put a hand on Derek's shoulder. "I don't need your money. Do you understand?"

The frown on Derek's face grew worse, but he nodded. "I do understand." Stiles sighed in relief. "But if getting you to safety is a simple question of funds, I hope you understand that I can't sit by and do nothing."

Stiles sighed again, this time in defeat. He couldn't argue this point, because he knew that if their situations were reversed, he'd do the same thing. So he nodded and dropped his hand from Derek's shoulder. "I understand," he agreed.

Derek caught his hand on the way down and held it between both of his own. "I know what you're thinking. You don't want to be held down by the burden of money, and you don't want to be a burden either. My situation is far from yours, but I've felt those things too. I once considered running away from my family, to escape the political nonsense that comes from being titled. But I chose to stay, because I love my family and they needed me. You don't stay with the Argents because of love. You stay because of debt. I'm not saying you can't survive your circumstances on your own, but- You have a good friend here," he motioned to Allison, "and you have me now. You don't have to go on surviving alone. Let us help you."

Wow, what a speech. Stiles fought the smile, but it was a losing battle. Before he could full-on grin, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Derek's. Allison let out a tiny gasp, but Stiles ignored her surprise. He'd already told her about kissing Derek last night. She was probably just stunned to see it in person.

Derek brought his hand to Stiles' cheek as he pressed back into the kiss, and a second kiss to boot. Then he pulled back slightly and let his eyes roam over Stiles' face while he caressed the edge of Stiles' hair, letting the short locks weave in and over his fingertips.

"I'll take that as admittance."

"You can take whatever you want," Stiles murmured back, fully intending his words to be sensual.

Derek smirked. "Maybe not here, I think," he said lowly back, and his eyes glanced sideways at Allison. Then he pulled back entirely and returned to simply holding Stiles' hand.

Pursing his lips, Stiles sat back up straight and dared to look at his best friend. She seemed slightly flustered, but not upset. Her hand was over her mouth, her eyes slightly wide and considering. For a moment, Stiles worried he'd been too inappropriate by kissing in her presence and making lewd comments, but his worries didn't last long. Allison caught his eye and smiled behind her fingers.

"It's just so romantic, isn't it?" she asked. Stiles cracked a grin in response. He definitely thought this was romantic, but as he was part of the romantic scene Allison was commenting on, he thought it might be a bit too arrogant to agree out loud.

Derek's thumb resumed its work caressing Stiles' skin on the back of his hand, and that occupied all of Stiles' thoughts for the remainder of the short ride into town. He could get used to this.