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Stiles came into the house, leaned over to loosen his boots and kicked them into the corner of the room. He automatically checked his revolver over, then put it in the gun safe they had installed in the family entry.
Figuring that Derek was in the kitchen, preparing dinner, Stiles went there next.
"Something to drink?" Derek asked. "Dinner should be about twenty minutes."
"I'll just get some water," Stiles sighed. "I can wait. Ate lunch late."
"Oh? What happened?" Derek asked.
"Amelia called in sick, well, her kid is sick, so I had to cover the desk this afternoon," Stiles said, pouting.
Stiles loved and hated working the desk. He had spent most of his first year as a deputy on the desk, learning more than he ever wanted about what went on in Beacon Hills. As the 'new guy,' that was the first job everyone was assigned, with occasional road duty and other jobs as needed.
"At least it was only half the day," Derek observed.
"It was fun!" Stiles grinned. Then frowned. "At least until Mrs. Wasielewski showed up."
Derek snorted. Dorothea Wasilewski was known around town for being a busy-body and for her grumpy attitude toward everything.
"Everyone knows it's almost Christmas, and the students in the Band are trying to advertise their candy sale," Stiles said. "They're looking to go to some competition in LA in the Spring."
Derek could see where this was going.
"So someone posted a sign about the sale on the utility pole in front of her house," Stiles continued. "You would have thought someone had fed dead mice to her cat."
"Everyone knows that cat likes to catch it's own mice," Derek put in. Of course it's owner thought her 'poor kitty' ate only the finest prepared food, but, really, everyone knew better.
"Exactly!" Stiles agreed. "So she was in making a complaint about the sign someone had posted.Evidently, she got a step ladder and pried the staples out of the post -- she had them as evidence -- and wanted us to chase down 'the miscreant who had committed this crime."
Detek snickered.
"She even had looked up the law --" Stiles made his voice higher pitched "Penal Code Part 1, Title 13, Chapter 12, Article 2, Unlawfully placing signs on public and private property, and this was on the utility pole in front of my house!"
Derek handed Stiles a glass of ice water that he took absently.
"Of course, she didn't see it happen, she didn't know exactly when it happened, but she brought the sign in a plastic bag so we could get fingerprints off of it!" Stiles sighed and drank most of the water.
"Did she realize her own fingerprints would be on it?" Derek asked.
"Oh! She thought of that! She wore gloves as she took it down," Stiles replied.
"So, what did you do?" Derek said.
"I wrote it up, put it in the queue for the techs to work on, when they can, and eventually sent her on her way," Stiles said. "I did my bit."
"What will really happen?" Derek asked.
"The techs will probably lose it, or put it in their black hole stack of not-critical work, and it'll be at least a year before it gets looked at," Stiles said.
"She won't forget, you know," Derek said.
"I know, I know," Stiles huffed. "Hopefully, I won't be on the desk when she comes back to ask."
"You know she'll wait for you?" Derek pointed out.
Stiles dropped his head on the table. "I know," he said mournfully.
Derek put a warm hand on the back of Stiles' neck and squeezed gently, to relieve some of the tension.
"Get changed and by the time you get ready, I'll have dinner on the table," Derek ordered.
At that, Stiles got up and gave him a quick kiss. "Excellent! I'll be right back!"