Chapter Five: Chances

She'd never been so invested in someone before in her life.

Looking back, Malia could barely remember the last time she had had an actual boyfriend, due to her inability to allow herself to slow down enough to get serious. College had been one drunken hook up after another, with no real intention of following up the next time she ran into them; high school had been too busy, and her dad had been very clear about his no-boys-in-the-house rule.

So this was her only real opportunity to allow herself to get close to another person, to let herself get comfortable and be vulnerable.

Stiles brushed her hair out of her face then, bringing her back to the now. Malia was curled up on the couch next to him, his arm around her and her head on his shoulder, the sound of CSI: Miami on television filling the room.

"What are you doing next Thursday?" He asked as a commercial for some mattress store came on the TV.

Malia furrowed her brows for a second, trying to think of her schedule. "Uh, as far as I know… nothing? I have the week off." She craned her neck so she could look at him. "Why?"

"We're having a Christmas party down at the station that night," Stiles explained. "And I was wondering if you'd be my date."

"Oh, wait, now that you mention it, I think I do have something…" she trailed off, pushing herself up into a sitting position. Her eyes caught the look of disappointment on his face, color rising in his cheeks, and she started laughing. Malia wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him as she slid into his lap. "Of course I'll go with you."

Stiles exhaled in relief. "Good. I had half a mind to get up and go cry into a tub of ice cream for a second there."

Malia rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "Don't be so dramatic," she told him, before pulling him into another kiss, long and slow, wordlessly assuring him that he would always come first.

—

The Beacon Hills Police Station was so elaborately decorated that it was almost cheesy. Everything was covered in tinsel, fake snow, twinkle lights or all of the above, the front counter offered snacks - including Christmas tree, ornament, and candy cane shaped cookies, as well as a variety of beverages.

But overall, Malia was having a great time.

"Dad, I'd like you meet my girlfriend, Malia," Stiles was saying to an older man with gray hair that looked a lot like him.

Malia eyed Stiles discreetly, trying to read his expression but it gave nothing away. Sure, they had established exclusivity, but she'd never heard him call her that before. Girlfriend. She was so mesmerized by the way the word rolled off his tongue so naturally that she almost forgot that they were talking to his dad.

She cleared her throat, extending her hand. "Mr. Stilinski," she said to him. "It's nice to meet you."

"Stiles, when you told me you had a girlfriend I was skeptical, but I guess seeing is believing," said the older man, chuckling before looking to Malia again. "Between you and me, he never really had any luck with women before, so seeing him with you is a dream come true -"

"Dad," Stiles warned, his eyes wide as he placed a hand protectively on Malia's lower back. She took a sip of her wine, trying to suppress her amusement. "I told you not to embarrass me tonight."

"Did you? Must've slipped my mind," his dad grinned, before clapping his son on the shoulder. "Oh, lighten up, son. It's kind of my job."

Malia smiled as they continued their banter, only half listening now as she took in the rest of the party. There were people everywhere, most of which she didn't really recognize, talking and laughing and spreading the holiday cheer.

If it hadn't been for Stiles, she might have been curled up on the couch in her apartment watching re-runs of Man vs Food and spooning Nutella out of the container. Not that that was a bad thing, it was just nice to be able to get out and have a life, instead of living vicariously through Kira and Scott.

As she continued to survey the room, Malia's eyes found the two people she hadn't expected to see. Her brows furrowing, she excused herself from Stiles and his father, making a beeline for where the two stood by the cookies. "What are you doing here?" Malia asked, looking amused as Scott shoved a whole candy cane cookie into his mouth. "Is Scott a police officer too?"

"Oh, no, he works at the pizza place by our apartment," Kira explained, before waving at Stiles across the room. "We came for moral support."

"Moral support for what?" Malia inquired, her confusion clear.

"Every year at the Christmas party they give out special awards and gifts and stuff," Scott told her. "Apparently this year is supposed to be really special."

Kira perked up then, looking towards the front of the room. "Oh, I think they're starting."

Stiles' dad called everyone to attention, bringing the conversations around the room down to quiet murmurs as he cleared his throat. "I hate giving speeches, but I have to do it every year, so what the hell," he was saying, causing a ripple of laughter to spread through the room.

He spoke about the department, about everything they had accomplished in the past year, about the bad things and the good. He even recognized a long list of people that Malia had never seen or heard of before, but she clapped politely along with everyone else, sipping on her wine until she needed a refill.

But the cheer only lasted momentarily, the mood suddenly shifting as the sheriff's tone grew somber.

"As many of you already know, I will be retiring this year," he told them, causing a lot of dates to gasp in surprise and start whispering to their neighbors. Malia looked at Kira; her eyes were wide in surprise. "Oh, calm down, it's not the end of the world. In fact," he continued, "we've already chosen someone who is more than capable of keeping the department in one piece when I'm gone. Jordan Parrish, get the hell up here."

Everyone looked around - even Malia, who had no idea who this guy was - before bursting into a round of applause, many of the officers hollering and patting him on the back as he made his way to the front of the room. He was tall and handsome and looked way too young to be a sheriff.

It was only then that she felt a hand at her back, and found Stiles sliding into place next to her, nursing a beer in his opposite hand. Malia leaned towards him, whispering, "Who is he?"

"Parrish? Oh, he's been working here for more than a decade. He's been on top of his game since the very beginning, takes his job pretty seriously. Which I guess is probably why he was chosen to succeed my dad," Stiles explained, taking a swig of his beer.

"You don't sound happy for him," Malia pointed out.

He shot her a look, rolling his eyes. "Of course I'm happy for him. He's a great guy. Honest." Stiles pulled her closer, kissing the top of her head.

She decided not to press the matter further, realizing only then that his dad was still talking. Malia settled in, making herself pay attention to him and not the way his suit jacket smelled so good, like the cologne he wore mixed with the musky scent of his aftershave.

—

"Stiles, seriously, what are we doing?"

Malia was never opposed to a little sneaking around, but this was kind of ridiculous. They were in the sheriff's office with the shades drawn, the only source of light coming from the street lamp outside the window. Her heels clicked on the tile as she walked over to the desk, perching herself on the edge and eying him carefully.

"I needed to be alone with you for a few minutes and no, it couldn't wait," Stiles told her as her eyebrow raised questioningly.

"Well what was so urgent then?" Malia asked, wrapping her arms around his neck once he was close enough to her, tilting her head to the side expectantly.

She half expected him to make out with her, but instead he reached into his pocket, pulling out a slim velvet jewelry box. Her eyes widened slightly as she looked from the box to him, not sure what to make of what she was seeing. And then he opened it, and inside was a beautiful silver bracelet inlaid with diamonds.

She couldn't breathe.

"Stiles…"

"I know that Christmas isn't until Saturday, but I couldn't wait that long," he said, brushing her hair out of her face, his fingers grazing her skin. "I couldn't wait to see the look on your face when I gave it to you."

Malia exhaled, tearing her eyes away from the box in her hands now and looking up at him. She didn't say anything, and as the seconds passed his excitement shifted to nervousness to worry. She could see each emotion as it passed, and wanted so badly to say something, anything, but words escaped her.

This on top of hearing him call her his girlfriend - it was all too much. It was more than she'd ever had before, but it was everything she hadn't known she'd wanted until now.

"What do you think?" Stiles managed to ask. "I mean, if you don't like it I can take it back and you can -" He was cut off by her lips capturing his in a kiss, her arms sliding back around his neck, pulling him towards her. It was a full minute before she pulled away again, shaking her head.

"I love it, Stiles," Malia told him, biting her lip. "It's so beautiful. I can't believe you got me something like this."

A smile spreading across his lips, he slid a hand behind her neck, pulling her back in to kiss her again, slow and deep. When they parted this time, she was breathless. "I'm crazy about you, Malia, so you better start believing it," he murmured, his eyes hooded and dark, his lips pink, inviting.

He helped her put the bracelet on, the light catching it as he turned it around to face the right way. She couldn't stop staring at him as he worked, thinking about just how lucky she was to have met such an amazing guy. Thinking about how she wasn't about to let him get away any time soon.

"We should probably head back," he said finally with a heavy sigh, starting to straighten up.

But her hand caught his wrist, pulling him back.

"The party can wait," she breathed, and before he had a chance to say anything in response, her mouth was claiming his again.

She parted her legs so that he could come closer, her dress hiking up her thighs with the help of his hands on her, running up the bare skin of her upper thighs, running over the curve of her hips as he worked his way up her body. She kissed him deeper, his tongue invading her mouth, tasting of beer and sugar and faintly of the toothpaste he'd used that morning.

She was all sensation; thoughts of them making out in his father's office, the feel of his erection rubbing against her inner thigh, the heat of his mouth on hers, his hands on her hips urgent and unrelenting – it was a heady mixture, almost overwhelming. Almost.

"And here, I want to show you where you'll be working…"

Malia's eyes snapped open, and suddenly every bit of need was forgotten, replaced by fear. "Oh, shit. That's your dad."

"He's not going to come in here," Stiles insisted, his mouth moving along her jaw, kissing down her neck. She let herself be reminded of just how badly she wanted him for a second, before putting a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Look," she said, suddenly breathless. "As much as I want you to take me right here on his desk, this is probably not the best time." Malia glanced up, seeing the shadows moving on the other side of the door. "He's definitely coming in here."

Stiles sighed, pecking her on the lips one final time, stepping back so she could stand up again. Malia adjusted her dress, but there was nothing she could do about the color in her cheeks. She grabbed his hand and pulled him to the door, cracking it open and slipping past the sheriff while his back was turned, heading for the front of the building.

She felt eyes on them, but didn't stop to look back.