CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Summary: Hermione Granger, an accomplished witch is working a particularly trying case and is in need of help. Deputy Sheriff Jordan Parrish is a hellhound and just the one she needs. When a fiery witch and a fire-proof supernatural being work together, sparks are sure to fly and Hermione and the Deputy find that they need each other for more than one reason. Rated M for a reason.

Disclaimer: I do not own canon events and characters, they belong to J.K Rowling and the creators of Teen Wolf and MTV. This is purely for entertainment purposes and I am not making a profit from the posting of this. This is set after The Wild Hunt but disregards everything afterwards, so there was no war between the supernatural and humans, there is no Monroe or Gerard and there are no hunters. At least for now! Also, Parrish is 23 and Hermione is 24. Oh, and I'm fudging the time line a bit, too. This will be written mostly in Parrish's POV.

Page count: 5

"So, Parrish, want to explain how that happened?" DeWitt spoke, putting his hands behind his head, leaning back into his chair and kicking his feet up onto his desk.

"Not really," he replied, finishing off his letter of resignation and sending it to the printer.

"Come on, you've got to share the details, don't be selfish."

"It's none of your business," he spoke, sending him a withering look. "I'm not really in the mood for this, I've just flown twelve hours on a plane, and drove several hours to get here," he lied slightly. "I could've gone straight home to get some rest and come in tomorrow morning, but I'm here instead."

"Yeah, why is that?"

"I needed to pick up my car."

"Then how did you get here?" He questioned.

"A rental," he spoke, giving him a look that finally had him shutting up.

He stood from his desk and retrieved the document from the printer, before grabbing a pen and signing his name to make it official. He closed his laptop and rubbed a hand over his tired eyes, stifling a yawn.

"Alright, boys, dinner's up!"

Parrish looked to the door, seeing Sherrif Stilinski entering with a bag filled with take out, until he stopped in his steps upon noticing him.

"Parrish?" He questioned in surprise, before a smile appeared on his face, he placed the bag on DeWitt's desk and made his way over to him. Parrish stood and accepted the older man's half hug and a slap on the back. "When did you get back?"

"Got off the plane and came straight here from the airport, I got here about twenty minutes ago," he smiled.

"No wonder you look tired," he snorted. "You should've gone home and returned tomorrow."

"Needed to get my car," he shrugged.

"Well since you're here, let's have a chat."

Parrish nodded, grabbed the document off his desk and followed the sheriff into his office, taking the seat in front of the desk.

"So?"

Parrish knew what he was asking. "It took us a few weeks but we were able to find it, we stumbled upon it by accident. I've never seen anything like it; it was twice as frightening and deadly as The Beast. Our first interaction wasn't pleasant, cut me up far worse than The Beast ever did and the death total continued to rise whilst I was there. We were able to injure it and a few days later we tracked it, and after another battle, we were able to kill it but we both came out injured. They're still not sure what it was and they're conducting tests on the body. In any case, it's gone now."

"I'm glad to hear that, and I'm glad you're back, something's happen..."

"Actually, I need to talk to you about something else," he interrupted.

The sheriff frowned but nodded and Parrish put the resignation letter on the desk and slid it over to him. The sheriff took it curiously and his eyes swept over the words, before they snapped back up to him.

"What the hell is this?" He asked in disbelief.

"My letter of resignation," he answered.

"I don't understand," he frowned deeply.

"I'm leaving," Parrish shrugged.

"Leaving? Leaving to where?"

"Britain,"

"I'm sorry?"

Parrish sighed and ran a hand through his short hair. "I'm leaving, moving to Britain. I have nothing keeping me here, and when I was in London I realised that I wasn't happy here and there's no reason for me to return. My family's gone, my teenage friends are going off to college, and I no longer feel the need to be here. The nemeton is no longer drawing me here, I'm drawn to Britain instead and I know that's where I need to be."

"Where's all this coming from?" The sheriff asked, before his eyes caught sight of a familiar looking woman entering the station. "What's she doing here?"

Parrish turned to look over his shoulder and a smile pulled at his mouth, and he gestured for Hermione to come into the office. A sheepish smile graced her face as she opened the door and stepped inside.

"Sorry to interrupt," she spoke. "Sheriff, it's nice to see you again," she smiled. "I didn't know you were back, I would've gotten you a coffee otherwise. I'd offer you a donut, but I think the Deputy over here would cry." He scowled at her and she gave him a sweet smile and shrugged her shoulders. "I ate one of your donuts yesterday and I thought you were going to strangle me, you have to learn to share, I share my ice-cream with you all time," she chided as she approached the desk. She placed the coffees and box of donuts onto the desk and rested her hand on his shoulder.

"You and her?" The sheriff blinked in shock, his eyes moving between them. They both nodded. "Should've seen it coming," he muttered to himself. "Is she the reason you're leaving, because I'm sure she's a nice woman, but you can't throw away your life for someone you barely know," he spoke. "No offence," he added, looking to Hermione and she waved him off.

"I'm not throwing my life away, Sheriff. Hermione didn't even know I wished to stay in Britain until I told her about it this morning, I'd been thinking about it for over a week before I mentioned it. She didn't convince me either way, in fact, I had to convince her that I was making the right decision. The only thing keeping me here is my job and that's not enough. I need to move on in my life, I need to move onto better things and I know I can find that in Britain with Hermione. She's different."

"I'm sure she is," he grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing.

"Sheriff, I mean it, she's different. My hellhound has claimed her as belonging to us." His head snapped up at that. "She's helped me more than I can explain. My hellhound and I, we're now one person. Thanks to her, I'm stronger than I've ever been and I can control my hellhound. When I become the hellhound, I no longer have blackout spots in my memories, I remember everything, past and present. And I can bring my hellhound forward without the need for fire." Parrish explained and the sheriff flinched back in surprise when his eyes suddenly shone bright fiery amber, and then returned to normal. "I understand my hellhound more than I ever thought possible."

"And what are you going to do for a career? Money? Housing? A visa?" The sheriff questioned.

"I've got plenty of money behind me. Hermione's government paid me five hundred thousand dollars before I even got on the plane, and when we killed Prodigium and closed the case, they gave me another five hundred thousand, I'm a millionaire." The sheriff spluttered. "A career, Hermione's government is giving me a job as a consultant, I'll work alongside her and help her with any cases that are similar to Prodigium. A visa, her President is sorting it out for me. They have resources available to them that our government doesn't and the paperwork should be processed and accepted in a few days. And housing, I'm staying with Hermione."

His eyes widened.

"He's not moving in with me, Sheriff, he's going to be my roommate who also happens to be my boyfriend. If we get to the stage of officially moving in together, we'll probably buy a property. There's a difference," Hermione shrugged.

"There's nothing that I can do or say to change your mind?" The sheriff asked.

"No, I'm happy with my decision to leave. I know it's what I need to do," Parrish spoke.

The sherrif sighed. "Very well, I'll be sad to see you go, but I'll accept your resignation. You'll have to work your three week's notice."

"I know, I need the time to get my affairs sorted, anyway," Parrish smiled. "Hermione came back with me because her President's making her take a four week vacation." The sheriff raised an eyebrow and Hermione grumbled angrily under her breath. "She's a bit of a workaholic." He winced when Hermione swotted at his arm, but the sheriff looked amused.

"I'm getting him back for it, just you wait," she muttered.

Parrish chuckled. "He threatened to put her on probation if she didn't take four weeks leave, and he's banned her from going anywhere near her office until those four weeks are up."

The sheriff snorted when Hermione huffed and a scowl pulled at her face.

"Well, now that's out of the way, I need to tell you something..."

"Can it wait until the morning?" Parrish asked. "It's just, we're exhausted from the long drive and even longer flight. I'm sort of working on autopilot at the moment."

The sheriff looked hesitant but he nodded. "It can wait until the morning, go home and get some rest."

~000~000~000~

"I wouldn't expect anything less," Hermione commented as her eyes searched Parrish's apartment.

It was bare with only the essential items and furniture in the kitchen and living room. The kitchen was small with a fridge-freezer, an oven and a microwave sat in the corner on the countertop. The living room consisted of a small couch, an arm chair and a coffee table in the centre of them, and the TV sat in front of the window on a stand. From the living room she could see into his bedroom, which held a double bed positioned in the centre of the room and pressed up against right wall, with a bedside table and lamp on the left. A chest of drawers sat on wall beside the door and a wardrobe was beside it and on the back wall there was a door that led to the bathroom. She noted that throughout the apartment the colour scheme was similar, mainly being grey and white with a few splashes of black thrown into the mix.

"You hungry?" He asked her, returning from the bedroom after putting their bags in there.

"Starved," she nodded.

"We can order take out," he spoke, moving to the kitchen and pulling a variety of menus out from a drawer. "I'll have to go grocery shopping sometime tomorrow," he said to himself.

"Well, I thought ahead and brought the basics," she said pulling her wand and after a series of swishes, food suddenly floated into the kitchen from the bedroom and landed on the countertop. "Milk, bread, eggs, cheese, bacon, so at least we can have breakfast in the morning."

"Do I even want to know how you got that through customs?"

"Probably not," she shrugged.

He snorted at her, before they both chose pizza and he placed an order, and they didn't have to wait long for it to be delivered. They both ate in silence before they trudged to his bedroom, stripped off their clothing and climbed into bed, falling asleep once their heads hit the pillows.