Chapter Text
„Idiot!“
The brunette curses as the door clicks shut in front of her. Balancing two grocery bags on her hips, she fishes for her keys and manages to unlock the front door without spilling anything.
“What an asshole! Can't even hold the door open for one damn second.”
She is so focused on not dropping her shopping that she does not turn to see the tall man hiding in the shadows on the other side of the road.
Izabel had moved into this apartment complex ten months ago and by now she knew every neighbor in her building. Except for that guy. That guy who would blast his music in the middle of the night and just so happened to live directly above her.
As she climbs the six flights of stairs (who in their right mind moved into an apartment on the sixth floor and didn't check whether there was an elevator), even the thought of her upstairs neighbor riles her up. By the time she practically falls into her small apartment, Isabel is fuming again. She didn't even want to think about this boy but every time she catches a glimpse of him, she can't help but wonder who the hell he is. Or why he does, what sounds like rearranging his furniture, every few days. And why he doesn't care that even the nearly deaf Mr. Parker next door has complained about it more than once. How can anyone be that ignorant?!
She drops a couple of apples in the hallway and her dog, who is happily waiting to greet her at the door, is now trying to steal one of them away into his basket.
“Mikey! I'm warning you! Drop it!”
The husky turns his head and looks at her with big blue eyes, his ears perched and his tail wagging.
“Drop it!”
Izabel kicks off her shoes and steps out of the hallway into the kitchen where she puts down her bags. She shrugs off her jacket and drapes it over a chair at the kitchen table. She holds out her hand under the dog's snout.
“Drop, Mikey!”
The dog lets go of his treasure and slumps down onto the floor, watching his owner scuttle around the kitchen.
“You know, Mikey. I don't wanna know what kind of a problem this guy has. If we didn't have this
“no fighting or arguing of any sorts off duty” - policy, I would go up there and kick his ass. He needs to be told that he should get his own house far away from civilization if he wants to have a 24h club inside his bedroom. I mean, who does that?”
Just as she starts ranting about her nameless neighbor, loud music starts to blare through the ceiling.
“Oh my...”
She turns towards the hallway, ready to contravene against every treaty she ever signed, when the song changes.
“Mmh...at least he has a good taste in music.”
Dancing around the kitchen she sings along to the music coming from one floor above her and finishes her task.
By the time Izabel has cleared up not only the kitchen (“Mikey, sometimes I wish you could do the dishes. It's time you start contributing to this family. You're not even paying rent.”) but also vacuumed her bedroom and living space and loaded the washer, her dog is waiting on her door mat.
“Alright, alright. I'm coming. Let's go for a run then, pooch.”
Izabel exits the house in running gear, Mikey close by her side.
“Don't you dare try to scare him again!”, she whispers and heads off towards the park.
After one lap around the lake, the husky doesn't seem to be exhausted at all. So on they go.
A lean, dark grey stray dog is following them around. He keeps his distance and stays behind the tree line framing the path.
Back home the music is still unalteredly loud. Izabel jumps into the shower and changes into sweatpants and a slightly over sized T-Shirt. Just as she drops down onto her beat up couch, her phone rings.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Izabel. Wow, you're still alive!”
“Ashton.”, she rolls her eyes. How could anyone ever be that energized?!
“What?? You didn't return any of my calls and I was getting seriously worried.”
“I'm fine. I just have a couple of days off from work and wanted to relax for a bit.”
“You're on holiday. That's great! We should hang out then. I mean, you're always so busy.”
She rolls her eyes again.
“You should have told me about your time off. You know, I still don't understand how anyone could be that busy. How can your job be so time consuming? Anyway, there is this really cool thing down at...”
Izabel puts down the phone and ties her hair up in a knot. It will definitely be frizzy and wavy in no time, if she doesn't blow dry it now. When she picks up the phone again, Ashton is still talking. She listens to his voice without actually paying attention to his words and makes small noises of approval or excitement every now and then. Gosh, that boy can talk.
Suddenly her door bell rings and Mikey jumps up from his spot by her side and runs towards the front door, snarling at it.
“I gotta go, Ash. There's someone at the door.”
“So, are we on for Sunday then?”
“Just text me, ok?”, she gets up and walks to her door.
“You weren't even listening, were you?”
“Bye Ashton.”
She hangs up and slips the phone into her pocket. Then she grabs Mikey by his collar and slightly pulls him back as she opens the door.
“Stay!”
The dog obeys and when the visitor immediately steps into the apartment and closes the door behind himself, Mikey slowly walks back towards the living room, his tail droop.
“So you finally decided to come out of that alleyway.”, Izabel scrunches up her nose.
The tall man just frowns at her. His hair and three-day stubble are black just like his jeans, boots and leather jacket. The only blots of color on him are his piercing eyes and the blue T-shirt he's wearing.
“You're cover is not very convincing.”, he has a deep, stern voice that matches the burning look he is giving her.
“My cover...I was buying veggies.You were the one following me, Derek!”
Izabel jabs her index finger against his chest and walks into the kitchen.
“Don't think I didn't see you lurking around. You know, normal people call that stalking.”
She puts the kettle on and spoons coffee powder into a can.
“Normal people don't have fake boyfriends they never call.”
“He is not my boyfriend!”, she spins around and points the spoon at Derek who is now leaning against the door frame. “And stop eavesdropping on me!”
He shrugs.
“Ashton is just part of the cover. Mr. Alexander requested I act more social. So I am!”
“What's the deal with that guy?”, Derek nods towards the ceiling.
Now it's Izabel's turn to shrug.
“I don't know. And to be honest, I don't want to.”
She pours the hot water into her coffee pot and smirks at him. “Makes it difficult to listen in to me, huh?”
Mikey sneaks into the kitchen and starts sniffing Derek's shoes. The man drops down onto his heels and scratches the dog between his ears.
Izabel watches him and shakes her head.
“What do you want, Derek?”
He straightenes up again and ignores the husky who keeps nudging his leg.
“I need you to come to the office tomorrow.”, he is speaking unusually quiet.
“Why?”, Izabel crosses her arms.
“I will be getting a partner.”
She visibly has to hold back a smirk. “And what do I have to do with that?”
“Izzy!”, his voice is almost a growl now.
“Seriously, Derek. I know that we both like to work alone. You even more than me. I don't see why I should be there. Especially when I'm being forced to take time off.”
“You have to be there. It's about the new mission.”
“And Mr. A couldn't call me or page? He had to send you to spy on me to deliver the news?! You know, I don't think there even is a new mission.”
“There is! And if any of the crap I could get out of A's new assistant is true, it's a good one.”
“So, where's your problem then?”
“He's a greenie.”, Derek pulls a face. It makes him look strangely adorable.
“You're becoming an instructor?!”, this time she can't hold her laughter back.
Derek glares at her, he has restored his grave adamant look.
“I'm sorry. But didn't you tell me that you would never waste your time with any...what was it? … brainless, clumsy trainees?”
“Just be there! 0800.”, he turns towards the hallway.
“Okay.”
Izabel rolls her eyes at the back of his head and pours herself a cup of coffee as the door snaps shut behind her visitor.
“Why does he keep doing this, Mikey?”
Her dog just looks at her wordlessly, one ear turned to listen to the fading steps of Derek Hale.
“Why do you always have to be late?”
“I don't know, Derek. Maybe because I don't want to be here?!”
Izabel slips into the elevator, presses the button for the second floor and pulls her hair up into a ponytail.
“Did you find out anything about your greenie?”, she asks and takes her phone from Derek. She slips it into the back pocket of her green pants and raises an eyebrow at him.
“No. Apparently he's so new, he doesn't even have a file yet.”
“That's no reason to steal my phone.”
“I was giving you access to the new intel system.”
“Oh thank you very much, my dear Sir.”
“Sarcasm doesn't suit you.”
“It suits me best.”
They exit the elevator and cross a huge hangar crowded with people carrying folders, piles of paper or boxes filled with even more paper. At the very back of it a security area stands out as the only real indicator of this being anymore than a get together of stationers.
They walk through what looks like airport body scanners and head down a flight of stairs. At the bottom they get into another elevator and go down several floors.
“I hope this is gonna be interesting. Because if it isn't I'm going to have to beat someone up.”
The two of them leave the elevator and walk along a bare corridor towards the last security point.
Derek shakes his head. “No, you won't!”
Izabel sticks her tongue out at him.
They arrive at a big steel door and Derek places his right hand on a small screen next to it. The door opens and reveals a room without any windows. Its walls are covered in pictures and framed certificates and newspaper clippings.
“You should leave the talking to me.”, Derek whispers.
“And what would be the fun in that?”
They head over towards the big oak table placed in the middle of the room and sit down on one side of it. The wall opposite them is blocked by two huge book shelves. They are filled with encyclopedias and frame another door.
After a couple of silent minutes the door opens and a small scrawny man with a graying goatee enters the room. He is wearing a grey suit that is obviously at least one size too big for him. Mr. Alexander looks as if someone has put a child into his father's clothes. Everything about him is grey, his hair, beard, even his eyes.
Right behind him follows a young man who could not look any more different than their boss. He is wearing a bright blue and red checkered shirt and jeans. His brown hair is styled into a small quiff and he is smirking happily. He looks a little out of place standing in the midst of three obviously resentful people.
He smiles at Izabel and she decides that she likes this new guy. Even if it's only because he looks like he will take the absolute piss out of Derek. She smiles back.
“Hale! What is she doing here?”
“Here we go...”, Izabel mutteres.
“She is part of the team I assembled.”
“We're is the rest of the team?”, Mr. Alexander twirles his beard around his index finger and sinks down into his chair – which is also too big for him.
He indicates for the new employee to sit down on a chair at the side of the room.
“I suspect he is the rest.”, Izabel chimes in and nods in his direction.
Mr. Alexander and Derek sigh in unison. For completely different reasons united in their exasperation for her.
“Gentlemen!”, Mr. Alexander begins and shoots Izabel a look that tells her to stay quiet. “This is our newest recruit and your new partner”, this he directs at Derek, who's cheekbones are more prominent than ever. He is suppressing his anger about this whole situation. “Stiles Stilinski.”