“I hired you an assistant for the shoot,” Laura says. Derek doesn’t stop walking – there’s a kid near the cart return that’s started to watch them – so instead he tries to convey his annoyance by walking faster. Laura has to scramble to keep up.
“I can pick up my own dry cleaning,” he says.
“You can’t just wash your clothes in the sink again,” Laura says. “It’s not cute, it’s not eccentric, you’re not Christian Bale.”
He wishes he got that comparison less.
"It's not like I can afford a hooker," Stiles barrels on, "And even if I could there's my dad to think about and Scott has like opinions on exploitation and sex trafficking now. So. That leaves Isaac. Or you."
Stiles stops talking long enough to breathe in, looks Derek over, says, "And Isaac's not here."
(Coda to 3x03 - "Fireflies")
By the time she stops the Jeep in front of Derek's house Stiles can't remember driving there. She’s pretty sure she stopped at red lights.
"Derek," she says, not yelling but not really in control either. Nothing happens, there’s no movement visible through the half-melted and broken windows. No sound.
"Derek!" she shouts up at the collapsed second floor. "You need to come down here so I can claw your eyes out."
"Yeah," Derek says from the front doorway, "I can see how that's incentive."
Or: Miss Stiles Stilinski vs. Season Two
John walks into the kitchen, opens the fridge, and is grateful for the uncharacteristic lack of body parts within. She says, mostly to herself but partially to Sherlock in case he's in one of his helpful (well, slightly helpful, well, more helpful) moods, "We're out of milk again."
She closes the door to the refrigerator, turns and finds Sherlock standing well within her personal space. She jumps, a little. It's not the proximity, she rather likes Sherlock in her personal space these days, it's just that she didn't hear him come up. It's unnerving.
"Would you not-" she starts, already exasperated and it's only half past seven.
"You're pregnant," Sherlock interrupts.
Isaac is asleep in a chair. The angle of his neck makes Derek wince in sympathy.
"Isaac," Derek says.
Isaac snaps awake immediately.
"Stiles?" Isaac asks.
Jesus. It's not like they know more than one.