Chapter Text
Although he enjoyed rolling around with naked guys Stiles was vehemently thinking there was a time and a place for everything. Being stuck under two hundred kilos of lard while his dad laughed his arse off wasn’t Stiles’ usual naked guy fantasy. Martin Jones was defective in the frontal lobe area and had decided his best course of action while his hands and ankles were cuffed was to launch sideways out of the car when Stiles went to pull him out.
Unfortunately, this led to Jones doing a naked beached whale impersonation on top of him in the parking lot beside the station, while a doorway full of policemen watched and laughed.
Bastards.
Stiles Stilinski worked as a Fugitive Apprehension Agent for Werewolf Bond Service. A bounty hunter. Jones was on his Most Wanted list for credit card fraud, then forgetting his court date thus becoming a Failure to Appear. Most FTA’s weren’t that smart and Jones fit the bill to a T.
He’d been in his apartment drinking beer, eating cheese dipped cheese sticks, and had come to the door naked when Stiles had arrived with a bullshit excuse about rescheduling a court date, until a light went on in the otherwise empty brain and the large man had decided he didn’t want to go to jail. Go figure people didn't like the thought of going to jail. So, Stiles had whipped out his handy dandy slightly illegal stun gun and knocked Jones out.
Stiles is 5’7” and sixty-five kg of slim athletic build sarcastic twenty-five-year-old with enough muscle to open a Nutella jar. In a fight against the massive Mr. Jones, the stun gun, and a turned back were his favourite equalisers; unfortunately for Stiles, he’d used all of his strength dragging jones’ naked arse into the back seat of his new second-hand car where he had cuffed his wrists and ankles for good measure. Now he was stuck under the man and glaring at his father.
“A little help guys?” He glowered as his father, Sheriff John Stilinski, ambled over grinning and pushed Jones off with his foot before giving Stiles a hand up.
“It’s sad I’m not going to have to embellish this story when I tell Melissa you know.” His dad grinned before cutting his eyes to Jones. “Need some help?”
“That would be nice, I’m still remembering how to breathe.”
He watched as the new guy, Parrish, in his shiny pressed uniform, came out and hauled Jones inside to the Docket lieutenant who would book him and give Stiles a body receipt. Which he needed to get paid. Which he needed to eat.
Getting paid was the dream. Checking his Batman watch Stiles decided he had protected the streets enough for the day; He’d head to the office, exchange Jones’ body receipt for a payday, and get himself some beer before heading home.
—-
Isaac Lahey sat at the front counter of Werewolf Bonds; he looked up, smiling a polite service smile which melted when he saw Stiles come through the door. Isaac was taller and skinnier and yet somehow never appeared as scrawny. Maybe it was the navy scarf he wore wrapped around his neck. Even in the middle of summer.
“I’ve got a couple FTAs here for you. All too small change for Ally.” He handed two folders over to Stiles to sign as he took the body receipt and processed the payout straight to his account. Oh, sweet technology.
“There’s Gary Williams, he’s got done on shoplifting again and old Mrs. Bezzler.”
“Mrs. Bezzler?” Stiles questioned as he flicked through the file. “She’s like a hundred what did she do?”
“Eighty-nine and grand theft auto.” Isaac finished the documents and looked up to see Stiles staring at him expectantly. He sighed. “She walked up to a police car and took it for a test drive. Without telling anyone. Claims she was confused.”
Now Stiles tried to be a good law-abiding son with his father being the sheriff but damn he was impressed. He hoped to be that cool when he was that old.
“Where’s Scotty?” He looked around towards the filing cabinets behind Isaacs’s desk, but the second chair was empty.
“Organising inventory. Should be done by now.” Isaac changed quickly from his smooth professional demeanour to world yodelling champion in seconds as he yelled. “SCOTTY GET YOUR ARSE HERE!”
“Jesus Christ!” A head popped out of the door at the back of the office. “What the hell do I pay you people for? This is a distinguished business not some high school locker room!”
The door slammed shut and that, Stiles thought to himself, that was as much of his boss, Peter Hale, that he wanted to see today.
Scotty strolled out of the inventory room grinning. “Do you think he was on a business call or a ‘business call’?”
Peter’s supposed phone sex life was the office's idea of fun conversation.
“I saw the last phone bill,” Isaac mentioned idly checking his nails. “He made a call to the pet shop before and after his ‘business’ call.”
They all stopped to ponder the implications for a moment before shuddering.
“Nope, I’m out. Scotty, wanna ride along?”
“Hell yeah; I hate the alphabet now.”
As they headed to the door Isaac called them back.
“Hold up, Stiles.” He bit his lip before retrieving another folder. “Allison’s bringing back some guy who did a runner and won’t be in town for another week or so and this one won’t sit. It's high pay day.”
Stiles opened the folder and frowned down at the picture of a rosy cheeked blonde-haired boy cuddling close to a tan man who looked to be his father. Confused, he flipped the paperwork. Find and retrieve missing child, abducted by father Danny Moore. Breaking the child custody agreement held by the mother Sam Moore.
“I don’t do these. Hell, I didn’t think Peter did these.” Stiles put the folder back on the desk. “I’m a shitty bounty hunter! I’m not qualified to catch kids.”
Isaac pushed the folder towards Stiles. “Before you say no just keep the file and think on it, okay? At worst you’ll do some legwork before Allison gets back and she’ll cut you in. And at best you find him and get him safely to his mother, yeah?”
Stiles took the folder and glared at it as he got into his car. The pay off, even a percentage, would pay off his car easily. But he couldn’t accept this. As much as he wanted the boy back with his mother something bad might happen and Stiles didn’t want to be the one to mess up this time.
The car pulled away as Stiles followed a familiar route to Gary’s house.
As they pulled to a stop in front of the two-story house, Scotty turned down the music blaring from the crappy stereo to stare at the weeds pretending to be a garden edging the house, and the plastic Santa humping the chimney three months early. Stiles stared at the house as Scotty watched him patiently.
“You know what?” Stiles grinned at Scotty. “I’m not feeling it. Bet he’s not even home. We should go try out that new ice cream place next to the bookshop.”
Scotty nodded seriously in response. “A good detective would even check what new comics are out.”
They grinned at each other as the car took off down the road. It was times like these that Stiles knew he couldn’t take a normal job again. Yeah, he had to hide in pouring rain outside a strip club to grab a cross dressing FTA at 2am but days like these made up for it with the no set office hours and awesome workmates.
They had gotten an ice cream cone each and were heading out when a woman caught Stiles’ eye, and he couldn’t help staring, she was a much older woman her hair short and spiked up coloured yellow and black like a freaking bumblebee and she was wearing close fitting black leather outfit. She looked familiar to Stiles but he couldn’t place her.
“Oh my god that woman’s like a hundred what’s she doing wearing that much leather?” Scotty had stopped with his ice cream halfway to his open mouth to stare at the woman.
“Oh crap; that’s Hazel!” the realisation hit Stiles like a baseball bat to the face. He could be forgiven for not recognising the recently widowed Mrs. Bezzler who the last time Stiles had seen her wore little old lady dresses, tennis shoes and had her grey hair curled atop her head.
Stiles slipped through the crowded ice cream shop to stand behind Mrs. Bezzler.
“Excuse me? Mrs. Bezzler?” He kept his voice polite and curious. “Are you Mrs. Bezzler?”
“Not since my husband croaked.” She turned to Stiles and unashamedly checked him out head to toe making the younger man swallow his tongue. “But for you honey, just call me Hazel.”
Stiles stuttered to a stop briefly as he realised she was hitting on him. “Mrs. Bezzler-“
“Hazel," she interrupted firmly.
“Uh, Hazel. I represent your bondsman Mr. Hale. You missed your court date and need to reschedule.” He smiled pleasantly at her hoping she wouldn’t take it as flirting. “If you come with me, we can get you a new court date.”
“Of course, dear,” She gripped Stiles’ arm and followed him out to the car Scotty trailing behind as she nattered on cheerily. “Now you see as you get to my age things like court dates seem to lose importance. I don’t think I’ll be going, but you’re so sweet to bring an old lady out of the crowded shop.”
Stiles hadn’t been listening the best to what Mrs. Bezzler was saying and he regretted it as she snatched his keys out of his hand, jumped into his car and sped away while the two able bodied young men stood staring open mouthed.
“My car.”
“Dude, your car.”
——
The Stilinski’s and McCalls’ have been neighbours for as long as Scotty and Stiles could remember.
Both sets of parents had moved in as newlyweds and before the boys were ten both had lost a parent. Stiles and Scotty grew up as best friends, Stiles ready to jump from the roof to see if he could suddenly fly and Scotty jumping with him because they were best friends. Both ended up with broken arms and had been the first to sign each other’s casts. That was their entire friendship; Stiles the misguided brains and Scotty the blind faith.
In the fifteen years since John and Melissa became single parents, they removed the separating fence and put an archway in the separating wall; the co-parenting while on opposite shifts and the family dinners together every night they were both home. All of that didn’t give it away, it wasn’t until the boys were almost twenty that they realised their parents were dating.
Now that the boys had moved out, it was the family rule to come home for dinner twice a week. No exceptions. Explaining why they were stuck at the ice cream place without a car made the best friends regress to teenagers. No eye contact and lots of muttering at their feet.
Stiles spotted his car sitting at the curb outside his father’s house a note on the driver’s side window in lipstick read: Honey you need a better car try stealing one! Xx
The spare change was still there but the handcuffs Stiles had left on the passenger seat were gone. He didn’t want to think about it.
“Ugh you are so dead if she finds you alone man.” Scotty had no sympathy as he followed his mother into the house, Stiles grabbing the keys from the ignition and trailing after them while questioning his life choices.
The early dinner was quiet, as it was just the three of them. After dinner Melissa pulled Stiles aside to sit in the kitchen as Scotty turned on the TV.
“Stiles, why are you refusing the Moore case?” Melissa stirred a cup of tea eye staring intently at Stiles who fiddled with his.
“I’m a pretty shi- bad bounty hunter,” he corrected himself quickly. “I think that kid deserves someone competent like Allison to get him back to his mother.”
“Hmm…” Melissa. “Tell me Stiles is she that good? Will she bring that boy back to his mother?”
“Yes! Of course!”
“Then find him first.”
“Wait what?” Stiles gaped at Melissa but she was serious.
“Find that little boy Stiles. Find his father and find out why they thought they could get away,” Melissa exhaled clenching her tea cup in both hands. “What I’m going to tell you is one of those secrets everyone knows but no one talks about.”
“That boy and his father would come into the hospital at least once a month with broken bones or cuts that needed stitching. Everyone knew Danny’s wife Sam smacked him and their boy around and we all knew Danny only stayed to take the worst of it until a year ago,” she shook her head sadly. “Danny called the police and when the ambulance got there, he was half dead and Jackson had two broken ribs. Danny filed for divorce the next day but the custody agreement meant the mother, Sam, got Jackson every weekend.”
Stiles didn’t know what to say. He’d gone to high school with Danny but they hadn’t been close and had lost contact other than the quick hello when passing each other in the shops. He felt sudden guilt, like he should have known and helped but couldn’t have had any way of knowing.
“I’ll do it.”
——
Why had he decided he could do this? Why did he think he could help?
Stile wasn’t sure what he was expecting, maybe for Danny to answer the door and invite him in but standing at the back door to someone else’s house about to throw a rock through their window to snoop around wasn’t it. Nope his day didn’t usually involve good old B&E. Ok well most days. Maybe only twice a month.
Honestly Stiles had hoped Danny was hiding inside his house with his son and this would all blow over quickly. He had no idea what he was doing. He still had no idea as he threw the rock at the window in the back door. No idea as he pulled on gloves and went inside, well slight ideas but c’mon TV. A quick run through showed an empty house, nothing interesting, nothing disturbed and nothing out of the ordinary. The only room left was the basement. Stiles send a quick prayer to whoever was listening that he wasn’t about to stumble upon dead bodies and crept down the stairs using his phones flashlight.
He almost dropped his phone in fright as it started ringing.
“God Dammit Scotty! You gave me a heart attack!”
“Stiles, a limo just pulled up and someone went into the house.” Scott was on lookout duty in the parked car across the street.
“Shit.”
“Exactly Mr. Stilinski.” A voice from the top of the stairs called. “If you would follow me.”
The man at the top of the stairs was wearing a suit that badly hid the gun at his hip. Stiles didn’t see any other real option than to follow him.
“Who are you?” the man led the lacking bounty hunter to the open front door where he pulled out a key and locked the door behind them.
“Mr. Greenburg wants to speak to you.” The goon led a petrified Stiles up to one of those short black limos at the curb. The window rolled down halfway so he couldn’t see who was in the shadowed interior.
“Hello Mr. Stilinski, I see you have entered my property without my permission. What do you have to say for yourself?”
“This is Danny’s house. I was asked to look for him, I was just checking up on things.”
“As noble as that sounds you broke into my property.” The voice drawled sending shivers up Stiles’ spine. “And I do not tolerate people messing with what is mine.”
“You don’t scare me,” Stiles was sure anyone listening could see through the bravado but he was determined not to look like a chicken shit bounty hunter. Go male ego!
“We will see Mr. Stilinski, We will see.”
The window went up and Stiles was left staring at his own reflection as the goon got in the car and the limo drove away. He stood there for another minute before crossing the road and jumping into his car and staring blankly at Scott.
“I need Cake.”
——
Half an hour passed to find Stiles, Scott and Isaac were staring at three empty bakery boxes and questioning their decisions.
“I’ve got powdered sugar on my scarf.” Isaac batted at the fabric gently to clean it.
“I’ve got a lunch date with mum in half an hour.” Scott looked to the empty doughnut box which he was sure he only ate half of. Probably.
“I think I pissed off a mobster.”
The other two turned to stare at the third before finally breaking into sniggering laughter.
“It’s not that funny!” Stiles threw his hands in the air. Peter stuck his head out of his office to glare at them. “This is my life and it sucks! I need a distraction!”
“Why don’t you distract yourself by doing your job?” Peter was leaning in his now open doorway glaring at his employees. “You can always go after Williams.”
“Fine,” Stiles glared back but the idea was actually appealing as he might get a chance to hit Frankie with the stun gun. “But I need some cuffs.”
“What happened to your last pair? Christ, they don’t grow on trees!”
“Mrs. Bezzler took off with them.”
Peter stared at stiles for a moment before shaking his head. “Bloody hell Stilinski that woman is like a hundred! No. nope. I’m not having it. I’m pretending you have some sexy girl coming over tonight and you wanna handcuff her to the bed!”
The office door slammed as Scotty went to the inventory room to fetch a pair of cuffs.
Leaving the office and realising it was getting close to six Stiles decided it was time to call it quits for the day. He firmly decided the order for the perfect dinner for the day he had was beer. Beer and TV. What more could a man want? Maybe a cookie. A big one, except that would mean he would need to go grocery shopping and even he was aware of his shortcomings in the ways of independent adulthood. That’s why going to Dads house twice a week for dinner was more than just family obligation. It was a survival tactic. He slumped on the couch and took a drag of his beer grabbing the TV remote when a rustling sound came from the doorway.
Frowning he looked over but it had stopped. Stiles shook his head; he was getting more and more paranoid these days. The manly bounty hunter thing to do was to check the door. He drank some more beer frowning. Going over to his Boba Fett cookie jar he pulled out the hand gun hidden inside. Cool guys keep their guns in cookie jars ok? And since the last time an FTA got inside his apartment and used his gun against him… yeah, a cookie jar was actually safer.
Stiles finished his beer in a gulp and chucking it in the bin before creeping up to the door. Taking a deep breath, he peeked through the peep hole. Only to see nothing, there was something over the hole. Dammit. He couldn’t hear any more noise outside the door so he held the gun up and threw the door open hoping to surprise whoever was outside. The hallway was empty; confused the bounty hunter glanced at the peephole cover with gum. Ew. Stiles frowned as he noticed one of those fabric shopping bags tied to the door handle.
Reaching for it and peeking inside he shrieked and dropped the bag. Five brown spotted snakes slithered out. Stiles stumbled back a few steps before raising his gun and shooting at one of the snakes heading to the hallway. He quickly turned and ran leaping up onto the kitchen bench pulling his legs up and getting his phone out of his back pocket.
Shaking he dialled his dad.
“Hi Dad: I need a favour,” He started the conversation as soon as his dad picked up voice quickly losing composure. “Can you please call whoever the hell does whatever the hell people do with snakes that shouldn’t be in my apartment!”
There was silence on the other end of the call and the young man knew his father was staring at the phone in disbelief. It was a common occurrence, he was told.
“Dad?”
“Stiles,” there was a deep sigh. “Does this have anything to do with the call about gunshots in your apartment building?”
“Um…”
“We’re already heading over. We’ll be there in ten.” The line went dead and Stiles wondered who the “we” would be this time. He knew he was a source of amusement to the local station and his calls usually ended up in a lot of laughing. At him. Shit this one wasn’t looking great. If he wanted to preserve some dignity he'd wait in the hallway and act all casual. Since one of the snakes had decided to hangout in plain sight in front of the door Stiles decided against dignity and stayed put.
Ten minutes later his dad walked in followed by the new deputy and two men in green jumpsuits carrying bags and hooks. They all walked through the open doorway and saw the Sheriff’s son sitting on his kitchen counter in the middle of the apartment waving awkwardly at them. The new deputy, Parrish who Stiles had only met twice now, toed the dead snake on the ground.
“This sucker’s shot to shit.” He glanced around the empty apartment. Not a slithery bastard in sight. “How many were there?”
Stiles glanced at the gun on the counter guiltily. “I was surprised and then I ran out of bullets… um five? I think there were five of ‘em. I think one, maybe two, went down the hallway but the others came inside the apartment.” The one that had mocked him front in front of the door had disappeared.
His dad was shaking his head in disbelief. “You know Scott called me last week with an emergency because he got locked out of his apartment, can you imagine Stiles? Having a normal emergency?” his dad motioned the animal control guys down the hall and started poking around the apartment with Parrish. “You gonna help us look son?”
“Nope.” Stiles popped the ‘p’ sound just like he had in high school. “I’m fine up here where its venomous reptile free.”
Parrish and his dad disappeared into his bedroom and the apartment was quiet for a moment until there was sudden shouting.
“FUCK! Fuck! Kill that motherfucker!” his dad’s voice yelled and Parrish answered with gunshots.
“Fuck.” He dad stomped out of the bedroom and went straight for Stiles’ liqueur cupboard grabbing the bottle of jacks and downing two fingers worth before passing it to Parrish who did the same. “That fucker came out of nowhere.”
The two animal control men walked back into the apartment at that moment and took in the two shocked police officers, the bottle of jack and the big bad bounty hunter hiding on the counter and shook their heads. Not a stellar performance by the local law enforcement. Sheriff Stilinski pointed to the bedroom door and they went for the snakes without a word.
They were still in the same positions staring at the bedroom door when Derek Hale arrived. The plainclothes detective wore black jeans that looked poured on, black leather jacket over a dark grey Henley that would suit a runway model more than the image of a cop and heavy black combat boots. His brown hair was dishevelled and forest green eyes thoroughly assessing the scene in front of him. The jacket hid the badge and gun but Stiles knew they were there.
An amused smile crossed his lips when he saw Stiles on the counter. “Hiding from something?”
“Someone left snakes on my door handle,” Stiles didn’t know if he should be indignant or to pout so he settled for glaring at Derek.
“So, you let them loose?” Derek’s teeth flashed as his face twisted in repressed mirth.
“I was surprised.”
Derek snorted a short laugh and glanced back at the dead snake in the still open doorway. “Did you shoot that one?”
“Yes. I ran out of bullets.”
“How many bullets did you have?”
“One.”
Derek was laughing in a soft almost silent way and Stiles was still glaring at him, refusing to find it cute, when the animal control guys came back.
“Stinson’s,” the guy with the bag said. “Harmless. Want us to take the dead ones?”
“Yes!” Stiles didn’t want to touch them. Gross.
“We got the dead one and two live ones out of the room. I’m afraid your shoes are dead too.” He rustled the bag with a thoughtful frown. “That makes four but you said maybe fiv-“
He was cut off at the sound of a scream from the hallway.
The Sheriff and Parrish nodded to the other cop, following the animal control guys out, his dad giving Stiles a significant look he didn't really understand before leaving him alone with Derek.
“You can get off the counter now,” Derek held out his hand. Stiles took it and slid down, Derek giving his hand a squeeze before letting go.
“So, what happened?”
“There was a noise and I grabbed my gun to have a look but there wasn’t anyone in the hall when I went out,” Stiles flopped onto his couch. “There was a bag on the door handle so I checked it out and snakes fell everywhere! It was crazy!”
“Your life is crazy,” Derek muttered glaring at the door.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Stiles face transformed from ‘oh fuck someone set snakes on me’ to ‘don’t fuck with me’ in a speed only Derek inspired.
“It means you are the only person I know who has someone send them snakes! Who the hell would send you snakes?” Derek was pacing in front of the couch his obvious agitation calming Stiles down slightly.
“I guess I could write a list.” Stiles chewed on his thumb nail as he thought about who would be on the list. He got off of the couch to pace.
“A fucking list?” Derek stopped and stared at Stiles in disbelief. “Most cops only have one or two people but you have a list?”
“It’s been a busy day.” Stiles thought about the new cuffs in his pants and sighed. “Hazel might be on the list, she’s slightly crazy now.”
“Hazel?” Derek stared at Stiles until he elaborated.
“Nice enough old lady, she’s like a hundred, FTA who briefly stole my car today. Then there’s Jones who I tricked into lock up this morning who has gravel rash on his dong. He got out on a technicality.” Getting arrested an hour before his warrant covered entry into the house. “Then there’s Greenburg and the unfortunate encounter we had. And my ex-wife she’s always out to get me.”
“Greenburg?”
He explained about the missing boy he’d been asked to find and his dad’s creepy landlord.
“Stay away from Greenburg.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Stiles jumped up to pace. “I don’t want to get whacked!”
Derek grabbed Stiles pushed him against the wall next to the door crashing their lips together in a sudden passionate kiss. Liquid heat coursed through the man heading directly south. His hands reached forward grasping the supple leather of the cop’s jacket. Before he fully knew what was happening; just as he felt himself relax into the bruising press of lips Derek pulled sharply away, opening the door to leave, snapping the panting man out of his daze.
“Hey you stopped! What the hell was that?”
“Temporary insanity: you drive me crazy.”
He glanced the shorter man’s mouth before shaking his head and stalking down the hall dramatically disappearing into the elevator.