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Derek Hale had had far too many run-ins with the Argent family for him to trust a single one of them. Gerard's real estate schemes had bankrupted too many towns to count, and Kate, the head of the weapons division of the company, had the blood of dozens of wars and conflicts on her hands. Derek had been more than happy to put both of them behind bars for a long, long time, and wash his hands of the family.
Of course, that was until an explosion rocked the Venture shuttle mid-flight, and it was only sheer luck that both he and his cousin, Erica, had been able to get there fast enough to keep it from crashing back to Earth. Superman and Supergirl hadn't had a chance to work together before this, and Derek wished it had happened another way.
And who was the one person with a ticket for the flight who hadn't been on board the first suborbital commuter shuttle?
Stiles Argent, current CEO of Argent International and Gerard's grandson.
Derek walked through the main lobby of the National City headquarters for Argent International. The company had only been here a few years, since Stiles had taken over; Derek had always figured he'd made the move from Metropolis to National City to avoid the superhero and reporter who had taken down his family.
Well, he'd be in for a surprise now.
He dropped his ID at the front desk, and a very efficient young woman took one glance at them and smirked. "Mr. Hale, of course. Head on up to the twenty-first floor. Mr. Stilinski is expecting you."
Derek blinked. That was a new name. "Stilinski? I'm here to see Argent."
"And you will." That smirk didn't change. "In a manner of speaking."
Well, that was a bit unsettling.
He headed for the elevators and hit the button for the 21st floor. The name “Stilinski” wasn’t familiar; he couldn’t remember any of the Argents’ friends or associates having the name. Maybe he should’ve kept up with them better after Gerard and Kate went to jail.
Honestly, he was surprised Stiles was going to see him at all. Derek had expected the front desk to run him in circles for a few days before he could track Stiles down.
The elevator dinged, and he stepped onto the 21st floor with a single desk and a glass office beyond it. The young man at the desk, with dark hair and olive skin, gave him a crooked smile and waved him in. "Go on through. Mr. Stilinski is expecting you."
Derek nodded and thanked the young man. There was that name again. Had Argent sold the company? Surely not; Derek would definitely have heard of that.
He opened the office door and headed in.
A man sat behind the massive desk spanning the north-facing windows along the wall, typing away at a computer, a pair of black-framed glasses on his face. He looked up when they walked in, and Derek's heart gave a jolt.
He remembered Stiles as a lanky teenager with a buzz cut, sullenly standing off to the side of the big family photos the newspaper printed whenever they were trying to humanize Gerard and Kate. Derek hadn't actually seen him in the years since Gerard and Kate had gone to prison and Stiles had usurped his father, Chris, to take over the company himself at the age of 20.
Now he had grown up, his hair had grown out, and he was very much not a lanky teenager any more.
Derek found that very disconcerting.
Stiles took off his glasses and set them aside. "Well, Mr. Hale, I have to say I was surprised to hear you were in National City."
No matter how he felt about the Argent family, Derek could be pleasant. He smiled. "Mr. Argent. I don't want to take up too much of your time."
Stiles shook his head. "Oh, I'm sure you won't. And it's Stilinski now, not Argent."
Derek raised his eyebrows. Stiles Argent was Mr. Stilinski? "And what brought that change on?"
Stiles snorted. "Oh, come on, Mr. Hale. You of all people should know why I'd want to distance myself from my family's name as much as possible. Allison might feel some desire to redeem it, but it never sat right with me, and especially not after what Kate and Gerard did."
Derek stuck his hands in his pockets and fought to keep his smile pleasant. "So I'm guessing you had a perfectly reasonable explanation for missing the Venture flight yesterday?"
Stiles rolled his eyes. "Of course I did. I've got a major press conference coming up in two days and something exploded with it--not literally! But dealing with that particular fuck-up meant I missed the launch time."
Derek didn't believe that for a moment. Or maybe he just didn't want to believe it. No matter his last name now, Stiles was still a member of the Argent family.
Stiles seemed to read something in his gaze, and he narrowed his eyes. "Okay, so what you really want to know is if I had anything to do with the explosion."
Cutting right to the chase. Derek could appreciate that. "Well, did you?"
Stiles met his gaze evenly. "I told you, I'm not like them."
"That doesn't answer my question," Derek pointed out.
"No." Stiles stood, opened his desk drawer, and slammed it shut. "No, I don't want to answer your damn questions, and no, I didn't have anything to do with it." He stalked around the desk and held out a small black USB drive. "Here. I know you've probably figured out one of the myriad Argent companies made the oscillator that exploded. This drive has the schematics. Take a look and see if you find anything. Figure out what the hell happened on that shuttle."
Derek stared at the drive, and then at Stiles, hoping his surprise didn't show on his face. He'd had numerous run-ins with Kate and Gerard; Kate had always played up her sex appeal and Gerard had always played the doddering old man. Stiles didn't appear to be playing anything at all.
"Why did you take over the company?" Derek asked, instead of taking the drive.
"Because I wanted to do something good with it," Stiles said. "And I think I can." His amber eyes went soft and imploring. "Give me a chance, Mr. Hale. Let me prove I'm not like them. That's all I'm asking for."
Derek took the drive, his heart thumping unusually hard. "Thank you," he said, though he had no idea how his voice stayed even.
He was halfway out the door when another question struck him, and he turned to Stiles, who was back behind his desk. "Why Stilinski?"
Stiles slid his glasses back on and winked. "Sorry, Hale. That's a third-date question at least, and you haven't even asked me to dinner."
Heat raced up Derek's cheeks, and all he could do was nod jerkily before he booked it out of the office and back to the elevator, with barely a sideways glance at the assistant outside the office. His heart was still beating stupidly, stupidly fast, a reaction he certainly hadn't expected from a five-minute interaction with Stiles Ar--Stilinski.
He couldn't help but hear Stiles's words in his head.
Give me a chance, Stiles had said.
The crazy thing was, Derek really, really wanted to.