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Stiles stood bare-ass naked with his feet in the ocean. The beach was half sand and half rock, and getting into the water had been an exercise in tight-rope walking. Bare feet on rock -- some of them sharp -- was not fun.
A small wave crashed against his shins and he shivered. The water was cold and as much as he needed to wash off the funk, he wasn't up to immersing himself in the water. That was courting hypothermia. So he used his hands and a handkerchief to 'wash' himself. He carefully touched the black-and-blue marks that littered his body, grateful it wasn't worse. Although the cold water felt good on the bruising.
The beach extended a short ways into the ocean but he had cautiously scouted the cove before he took off his clothes. There was a sharp drop-off only a short distance from the shore. No telling what hid in those waters. He couldn't see anything but it felt like there was something there.
It was another reason to stay where he was.
Thankfully, the sun was warm, so he warmed up quickly as he moved back to his clothes.
Dressed, he put the leather shoes on. They more-or-less protected his feet from the rocks. And he was never wearing shoes without socks again. He didn't care what was fashionable.
Trudging up the beach toward the trees, Stiles took stock of the trees. There were a couple of promising coconut trees but he wasn't sure if the fruit was ripe yet. They weren't - quite - desperate. If they were stuck here more than another couple of days, they might be.
He made his way through the forest to the camp they had made near the downed plane. After four days, it looked almost lived-in.
"Where were you?" Jennifer demanded.
Jennifer Blake had been dozing when he left. She looked older when she was asleep, as if her appearance depended on awareness. Maybe it did.
"Taking a bath," Stiles replied. "What's it to you?"
"You left me," Jennifer whined.
"Too bad," Stiles shrugged. She hadn't been worried - she was keeping track of him.
"Where did you get a bath?" Jennfer frowned, puzzled.
Stiles sighed. This was a criminal mastermind? "In the ocean," Stiles said patiently. "It's cold, so I mostly rinsed off."
"Ugh! I'd kill for some hot water to wash my hair," she moaned. She scratched her head, realized what she was doing, and immediately dropped her hand.
"Well, it's the best there is," Stiles said. He thought about warning her about the drop-off or what might be waiting there. But, well, she was most of the reason they were stuck here. She could drown at this point, and he wouldn't really care. Others might, but they weren't stuck alone with her for four days.
"Can we eat something?" she begged. "I'm starving." It was getting toward sunset and they hadn't eaten since morning.
Stiles had, wisely, magically locked down the food and bottled water the moment he could. He didn't know where they were in their flight path and had no idea when they'd be rescued. So he made sure Jennifer wouldn't do the same to him first.
"Yeah, it's about time to have some food," Stiles agreed. "Let me see what there is."
Stiles carefully climbed into what was left of the plane. There were jagged edges of fuselage and seats bent in odd angles. That they had survived was a miracle.
The plane had been going through bad weather when it got worse than expected.
"Seatbelts! Now!" came over the speakers.
Lightening lit the sky around them, bright against the dark clouds. The plane shuddered in the wind, jumping up and down erratically.
Jennifer bounced around, having taken off her seat belt. "Help me!" she demanded.
"You stupid...." Stiles muttered. He was supposed to be her 'aide' but she had immediately tried to make a move on him. She implied that sleeping with her was part of the job. Stiles had avoided that so far.
Stiles had unbuckled his own belt, holding onto what he could. He manhandled her into her seat and pushed her down. "Put the fucking belt on!" he growled.
"Ooohh... look at you being so manly!" she cooed as she buckled the belt. She patted the chair next to hers. "Sit by me."
"There's not enough money in the world to do that," Stiles retorted as he fought his way to the seat across the aisle. He dropped down and buckled his own belt. Just in time. The plane gave a hard lurch and shuddered.
"Prepare for emergency landing," the announcement came. "It's going to be rough."
Stiles didn't remember much after that. Jennifer screamed at one point and everything went black.
The good news was that nothing exploded in the crash. Both he and Jennider had been unconscious and would have died if there had been a fire.
Stiles had come to consciousness first, giving him a slight advantage in taking precautions. Jennifer was alive, which is all Stiles cared about, as he took stock of himself and the plane. Jennifer started moaning -- and whining -- almost an hour later. Her not-tight-enough seat belt had caused her more damage than Stiles' had.
The plane had split in half, the front half taking the worst of the damage. The pilots had died in the crash as the nose of the plane hit a rock cliff head on. The rear of the plane was mostly intact but twisted and bent.
Stiles had gotten Jennifer out of the wreckage and sat her down in a nearby clearing. She had a broken arm and had twisted her knee. She could barely walk and was black and blue from head to foot. He had roughly splinted her arm, the best he could do in the moment. He scrounged some tylenol from the med kit that had been in the plane.
"I'll see what there is to salvage," Stiles said. "Don't go anywhere."
"But... what if there's help nearby?" Jennifer had waved her uninjured hand in protest.
"Then someone will come by at some point," Stiles said. "Go ahead and run around in the jungle, if you want. But I won't be coming to rescue you from snakes and bugs and whatnot."
He suspected the 'snakes and bugs' reference held her in place. Which is why he had said it.
Stiles had found a full crate of MREs and three cases of bottled water in the galley in the rear of the plane. He wasn't going to ask questions about why they were there, he simply used his magic to lock those up. He didn't know how long they'd be here, and he wasn't going to have Jennifer use drinking water to take a bath. He knew she was the type.
He got them each an MRE and a bottle of water. As he came back out of the wreckage, he looked at the labels.
"Meatloaf or tuna?" he asked.
"Ugh. Aren't there any vegetables?" she moaned. "Or something organic?"
"Meatloaf or tuna?" Stiles repeated patiently.
"Tuna," she sighed.
Stiles stood as far away as he could as he handed over the MRE and the water. He left her to work on heating the food on her own.
Stiles had -- stupidly -- not paid attention to where he had been standing as he had handed out meals the first time. She had grabbed his wrist and dragged him close.
"Come on, if we're going to be stuck here for any length of time, we're going to have some fun," she spit out.
"Not only no, hell no," Stiles growled back. He used his weight on her bad knee to make her flinch and loosen her hold. He scrambled away from her. She had the two MREs and two bottles of water.
Jennifer glared at him. "I pay your salary!" she hissed. "You will do as I say."
"You don't pay me anywhere near enough to fuck you," Stiles replied. "I'll do what I can to keep you alive but that's it."
After that, Stiles stayed out Jennifer's reach and barely interacted with her. But the tussle had confirmed that she had some magical ability. Nothing like his, but enough that he needed to be even more careful.
Jennifer made a face of disgust as she ate the MRE. She kept half the bottle of water for later.
Stiles used a dribble of water to wash his face and hands, removing the salt from the ocean. He couldn't do anything about the salt on the rest of his body.
"You know, once we get out of here, I can pay you more," Jennifer said suddenly.
"Yeah?" Stiles shrugged. "I'm not sure you're worth it."
She had flinched at that but rallied. "I know a lot of important people," Jennifer went on. "Politicians, lawyers, billionaires..."
"And? So what?" Stiles challenged. Finding those contacts was why he was doing this in the first place. Too bad they were stuck together for the unforeseen future.
"It's just that if you're nice to me, I can introduce you to powerful people," Jennifer replied.
"Like who?" Stiles challenged.
"Oh, that's a secret," she replied with a small laugh.
"Name one," Stiles replied. "You could be bluffing. I fuck you and then get nothing out of it."
"That's... crass," Jennifer looked offended.
Stiles sat up and looked at her. "I only took this job as a favor to a friend," Stiles said. "A HUGE favor. I didn't want to work with you. I still don't want to work with you. The absolutely last thing I'm going to do is fuck you without payment up front."
Jennifer sat back, eyeing him coolly.
"You are unexpected," she said.
"Too bad," Stiles ground out. He gathered up the debris from his MRE and took it to a plastic bag he had brought outside. They put their garbage inside the bag, mostly so it wouldn't attract animals. Luckily, they hadn't seen many but that didn't mean they weren't out there.
"What if I... gave you some names?" Jennifer countered.
"Bah," Stiles spit. "You can make anything up. How do I know you know whomever it is?"
She stared at him.
"You don't trust me," Jennifer said.
"So?" Stiles said flatly. "You're a bitch. Tell me something I don't know."
"Senator Janes Ember," Jennifer said suddenly.
"That old fart?" Stiles laughed. "What does he do?"
"Protects my... pipeline," Jennifer admitted.
"So? What can he do for me?" Stiles countered.
"Suck his dick and he'll set you up for life," Jennifer said.
"Really? How?" Stiles asked.
"He can always use another... business manager," Jennifer replied. "It's not hard work, but takes a certain... finesse. I'm thinking you could do it well."
"How do I know he'll listen to you?" Stiles asked.
"I've sent him people over the years," Jennifer said. "Some of them have developed their own... income streams."
Stiles stayed silent. He looked up to the darkening sky, in contemplation.
"Although if you want to disappear, he has people who can make that happen, too," Jennifer said.
"What? You're telling me that I can get, like, a new identity?" Stiles laughed. "What good is that?"
"A new identity, a million dollars... you could do whatever you wanted," Jennifer coaxed.
"I knew you low-balled this job," Stiles replied.
"I really was looking for a fuck-toy," Jennifer shrugged. "I'd keep you for maybe a couple of weeks, a month if you were good in bed and in the job. Then I'd send you on your way. Hiring an aide is cheaper than a hooker."
"That's cold," Stiles replied.
"Meh, it's business," Jennifer replied with a shrug. Although she winced as the bruises made themselves known.
"I'm going to think about it," Stiles said.
"Looks like we'll be here for a while," she shrugged. "Whenever."
Stiles moved slightly away from her. He had cobbled together something of a lean-to, one for each of them. He had set wards around his, so she couldn't creep up on him as he slept. They had blankets and small pillows from the plane to cover the ground. It wasn't comfortable but it was better than nothing.
Additionally, it was dark. Really dark. The first night, Stiles had been startled to realize how pitch dark the woods would be after the sun set. But it was good for keeping Jennifer in one place during the night.
A snap of breaking greenery had Stiles awake and aware. But he didn't move, pretending to sleep. He peered through slitted eyes. Fuck it. Jennifer had a flashlight of some sort and was trying to get into the wreckage. It was a small light, likely something in her purse.
He listened as she muttered to herself. The acoustics of the shattered plane didn't bring words but brought tone. She was determined to find something in the plane. The exclamation of pain indicated when she found the warded spaces. The first warning from the wards was biting, it would only get worse if she kept going.
Stiles figured she was after something in the cargo bay. Their luggage was there, as well as half-a-dozen boxes Stiles had wanted to look at but didn't get a chance to before the flight. But the impact and the crumpling made the cargo bay inaccessible as far as Stiles could see. Maybe Jennifer knew something he didn't. He figured it would do her good to fight with it.
Stiles guessed she was inside the plane for about an hour before she gave up and crawled out. She stood in the middle of their camp for a moment, likely debating about whether it was worth her while to try to attack Stiles. Stiles knew his wards would hold against her. He wasn't worried about that.
Jennifer huffed as she crawled into her lean-to, shutting off the flashlight. The blackness descended again.
Stiles slept until dawn. After her exercise last night, Jennifer slept until the sun was higher in the sky. Stiles had left an MRE and another bottle of water within her reach. She was starting to look even more worn-out as she slept. Her magic was slipping.
He took his own MRE and bottle of water with him.
While Jennifer was still asleep, Stiles wandered along the rock face the plane had plowed into. He had already explored in one direction - toward the ocean. The cliff continued along the sea and was not anything Stiles was in a position to tackle.
It was finally time to go in the other direction. While he hoped the transponder in his luggage was still broadcasting, he knew they were running out of time. They needed to see about rescuing themselves.
Stiles moved carefully in the vegetation at the base of the cliff. He knew enough that some of the smallest things were the most dangerous. Frogs, snakes, insects -- all could be poisonous. And he wasn't invulnerable. A fall could cause serious damage.
The last thing he needed was to be at Jennifer's mercy. Not that she had any.
He took a break once he realized he was sweating with the exertion. He sat on a rock to eat the morning MRE and drank some of the water.
The sun was high in the sky, meaning it was more-or-less mid-day and Stiles decided to give up. The steep cliff continued on as far as he could see and free-climbing was more than he was going to tackle.
He buried the MRE debris, sticking what was left of the water into a pocket.
Jennifer was sitting up, cradling her broken arm, when he got back to the camp.
"Now where did you go?" she demanded.
"Along the cliff," Stiles pointed. "It just keeps going, and it's not easily scaled as far as I can see. If I had ropes and better shoes, I might have tried it. But not in these shoes." He waggled a shoe slightly.
"If we could get into the cargo bay..." Jennifer mused. She shrugged. "Maybe there's something there."
Stiles shook his head. "Unless you brought climbing gear or the boxes in the bay contain more than whatever you're dealing, there was nothing there when I put our luggage there."
Her eyes narrowed. "Who do you work for?"
Stiles grinned slightly. "Wouldn't you like to know?" he teased.
She stared at him thoughtfully. "From the wards around the food, I initially thought you were a witch. Now..."
Stiles barked a laugh. "You already know I'm better at this than you. You're more Darach than Druid, so don't think you can bluff your way through anything."
Jennifer was taken aback by that. "I am not a Darach! I keep the Balance!"
"Yeah? Who's precious Balance? Your own? That doesn't buy you anything," Stiles replied easily." He waved a hand. "Only that we're camping out and you're close to nature has kept you from from dropping into your true form. You don't know that you slip at night, when you sleep."
"Damn you!" Jennifer snarled. "Just wait..."
"For what? What can you do?" Stiles challenged. "I have control of the food and water. You're hurt and not healing as well as you'd like to. I'm more powerful than you."
She glared.
Then Stiles heard the sound of aircraft overhead. He looked up but couldn't see anything through the trees.
"Finally!" Jennifer cheered.
Nothing more happened for a couple of hours when Stiles heard the sound of helicopters. More than one.
Jennifer pointed. "Now, you'll get what's coming to you!"
Stiles laughed. "That's what you think." He moved toward the beach area. That was the closest open space. He looked up into the sky as one of the helicopters came close.
"WE'RE HERE!" Jennifer shouted from behind him. She waved her good arm wildly.
Stiles turned to look at her. "I think they figured that out," he said dryly.
The helicopter hovered over the beach and six figures dropped down lines from the craft. They were dressed in tactical gear and had weapons.
Four spread out to survey the area as two moved towards Stiles and Jennifer.
"Took you long enough to find us!" Jennifer said. "Take this horrid man into custody. He's been... inappropriate. I want him arrested and thrown into jail."
The two men moved carefully toward them. One removed his helmet and stood looking between Stiles and Jennifer.
"You have to help me!" Jennifer said weakly. "It's been awful. He's been cruel and..." she waved her bruised arm, "he's beat me up."
"Ma'am, that will have to wait until we can get a doctor to look at you," the second man said. "If you come with me, we'll get you on a helicopter and back to the mainland."
Jennifer looked triumphant. "About time!"
Stiles waited until Jennifer had been escorted to the waiting helicopter. She flailed when she realized the craft wasn't going to land and that she would be hauled on board. But she finally was on the craft. The figure at the door gave a thumb's up signal as he closed the door. The helicopter took off toward the sea.
"Are you okay?" Derek finally asked.
"Mostly," Stiles admitted. "Tell your guys to stay away from the lagoon, there's something there that I don't think we want to disturb. If they have to, knee deep water should be okay but don't go past the drop-off."
Derek relayed that message over the comms and got back several acknowledgements.
"Tell me what's going on," Derek asked.
Stiles recounted the crash, the death of the pilots, and the five days they'd been living on the island.
"Where are we?" Stiles asked.
"Caribbean," Derek replied. "The storm fucked up the reception from the transponder. That's why it took us so long to find you."
"Well, another day or so and I probably would have had to do something to shut her up," Stiles admitted. "She's also on the verge of going full Darach. But she doesn't seem to think so."
"Someone else will take care of that," Derek nodded.
"There's something in the cargo hold of the plane," Stiles said. "You probably need a torch or something to get to it, that section is pretty crumpled. But there are half-a-dozen boxes that she pretty much admitted were hers. If nothing else, we've collected evidence we can tie back to Jennifer."
Derek nodded. "You look like you could use a vacation," he grinned.
"Maybe some time in the mountains," Stiles laughed.
Derek wound his arms about Stiles. "Glad you're okay," he said softly.
Stiles hugged him back. He glanced around and the figures on the shore were very obviously not watching. He gave Derek a quick kiss. "Thanks for coming for me."
"You're not doing anything stupid like this again," Derek said firmly.
"Aww..." Stiles cooed.
"I mean it," Derek said seriously. "Scared the hell out of me when your plane disappeared from radar."
Stiles nodded. "I know I got lucky."
"I'm going to use that as a weapon the next time anyone suggests you do another undercover op like this one," Derek said.
"You and me, both!" Stiles nodded agreement. "I'm due for a break."
"Come on," Derek said. "The others will stay and see what they can find. You aren't needed for that."
"Oh. One thing," Stiles said. He stamped a foot on the sand. "Okay, that drops the wards I put up. There was food in the galley of the plane that I secured. Otherwise Jennifer would have kept it all for herself."
"That sounds about right," Derek agreed. He spoke into the comms. "Ready to go."
"Roger," came a reply. The helicopter came close and dropped a line. Stiles put on the familiar harness and signaled he was ready. He was winched up, and a hand held out to bring him on board. Derek was brought up right behind him.
"Let's go home," Stiles said, putting on a headset. "I could use a bath and a hot meal."
"I think we can arrange that, sir," the pilot said as he turned the craft to head away from the island.