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Derek stares at the blinking cursor, willing an idea—any idea—to pop into his head so he can write it down. Even if it’s just a name for a character. Hell, the favourite colour of a character will do at this point.
Laugher and music floats in through the open window and Derek considers closing it. He’d opened it in the hope that the sounds of the party would spark something in his mind, but all it’s done so far is make him want to be out there with the rest of the block. And closing it will just make him strain for those sounds and smells, distracting him even more.
There’s a knock on the front door and Derek quickly moves away from the emptiness of the page on his screen.
‘I’ve had calls about a party pooper in here,’ Stiles says as soon as the door is open. He’s leaning against the door jamb, arms crossed, making his biceps strain against the fabric of his uniform. His eyes are shielded behind sunglasses, but Derek knows by his smirk and the raised eyebrows that they’re twinkling with mischief.
Normally the sight of his boyfriend in his deputy uniform is a very welcome one, but right now, it’s another distraction he doesn’t need.
‘Hey,’ Derek says, not able to keep his answering smile on his face for very long.
Stiles pulls the sunglasses off his face. ‘Wow, is it going that bad?’
Derek nods.
‘Why don’t you take a break? Mrs Carter is saving you a piece of her strawberry pie,’ Stiles singsongs.
‘You can’t take a break from doing nothing,’ Derek points out, though the strawberry pie is very tempting.
Stiles grabs his hand and squeezes it. ‘You’ve been in here all day, staring at that screen in desperation.’
Derek huffs, but doesn’t protest, because Stiles is right.
‘Maybe it’ll help if you actually spend some time with your target audience. Scott and Isaac will be thrilled if you could help them out, because the kids keep getting into the cabin of the fire truck and pressing the buttons for the sirens.’
‘I don’t know why Scott keeps insisting that he and Isaac can handle it. This happens every year.’
‘I don’t know what to tell you, except that he’s an optimistic guy with too much faith in humanity.’
‘Alright,’ Derek says. ‘Staring at that screen for another three hours isn’t going to work anyway.’
‘Yes!’ Stiles pumps his fist in the air, then drags Derek outside before he even has a chance to put on his shoes. When Derek points this out, Stiles quickly unlocks the door and grabs the flip-flops standing just inside the apartment.
‘Fair warning, Mr Thompson and Mr Harrison are fighting over who has the best marinade again. So you know the rules.’
‘Get something from both of them and eat it where they can’t see me,’ Derek says. Last year, someone’s unsuspecting, visiting family member had only gotten something from Mr Thompson and the yelling could be heard three blocks away.
‘And look at it this ways,’ Stiles smirks as he opens the door of the building and they step outside. ‘Even if you don’t get inspired, you at least got some amazing food out of it and the sight of me looking great in my uniform.’
‘There are high schoolers stealing Havisham’s garden gnomes again,’ Derek says.
‘Those little shits,’ Stiles curses, smirk dropping into a frown. He jams his sunglasses back on his nose, then slinks away, stealthily approaching the teenagers while hiding behind people and cars, ready to give the adolescent thieves the scare of their lives.
Derek turns to Mrs Carter’s place and sees the woman already waving at him. He waves back. Time to get some pie.