Cover by Sunquistadora
Stiles should have expected a visit from a man in a suit at least two weeks ago, but finals. Now here he was with his bag packed for Winter Break in one hand and his backpack over his shoulder only to open his door to the most mild-mannered man he’d ever seen. What Stiles didn’t expect was a curvy brunette to be with him.
“Mr. Stilinski,” the very non-descript looking dude greeted. “I’m Agent Coulson of S.H.I.E.L.D. and this is my associate Ms. Lewis. I’d like you to please come with us with limited fuss.”
“Fuck my life, seriously?” Stiles grumbled and the suit nodded.. “Look, I can totally forget a Norse God helped with a pixie infestation. No problem. It wasn’t even my idea for him to help. He invited himself for combat. Have you seen his face? How can anyone say no to his Eager to Help Slay Evil face? Which I have totally forgotten. Thor who?”
“Coulson, he’s adorable and clearly memory loss has set in,” Ms. Lewis said gesturing at Stiles. Stiles nodded emphatically.
“What is memory? What are thoughts?” Stiles rambled helpfully.
“Darcy you aren’t helping nor are either of you funny,” Agent Coulson frowned. He frowned like he could win awards for frowning. Whatever so-called agency this guy trained with--seriously what the fuck is S.H.I.E.L.D. aside from a name that sounds like it came from a comic book--probably taught classes on how to frown and look completely unimpressed. The lines in his face spoke volumes, bored, long-suffering volumes.
“Is is he always this dry?” Stiles asked her conspiratorially."
“Like the desert, babe. A dry, sandy desert in the midday sun,” Darcy confirmed giving him a wink.
“Ms. Lewis, that is quite enough,” Agent Coulson’s frown took on a withering quality that Stiles was more than a little impressed by. Maybe if they didn’t brainwash him or lock him away from his friends forever, he’d ask if he could take lessons in looking so unimpressed by everything. It’d be a good look the next time Stiles faced down serious shit like a pack of Alphas. Oh fuck, Stiles was so screwed, wasn’t he. Shit.
“I should say, for the record before you whisk me away to whatever creepy and or boring and highly impenetrable fortress you’re taking me to, that I am Emissary for the McCall Pack and that they won’t take my kidnapping lightly. And if any of my friends are hurt trying to get to me after you’ve foolishly taken me into custody and not let me go? I don’t care how scary you are, I will find a way to even the scale,” Stiles said, more confidently than he felt. But he meant it.
“I assure you that won’t be necessary Mr. Stilinski. I simply want to ask you a few questions and debrief you as needed. You shouldn’t be delayed terribly long, especially if you stop grandstanding and come with me,” Agent Coulson assured giving the slightest hints of a smile and a hint of approval.
He was so screwed. His dad was never going to forgive him for getting taken in by a secret-as-fuck government agency. Fuck my life, he thought and picked up his bag.
“So,” Stiles said as soon as his dad answered. He called him while he sat in a non-descript room. There were probably super secret spy ears listening to this, but Stiles didn’t give a shit. It’s his dad. His dad needed to know that he’d be late getting home for Christmas. It’s a five hour drive. this little detour probably meant he wouldn’t make it home until tomorrow. Stupid spooky organizations and their meetings.
“So you’re gonna be late, I take it?” His dad sounded tired. Stiles hated when his dad sounded that way, especially when it’s his fault.
“Yeah, like probably tomorrow late. Hopefully only tomorrow late,” Stiles said that last bit pointedly and at the surveillance camera in the corner. He refrained from making rude gestures at it. Barely.
“Let me guess, it has something to do with the Norse God that was in my living room a few weeks ago?” It sounded like he was frowning.
“Yeah,” Stiles winced. “Turns out that superheroes have handlers. Like an organization of very dry humored people in suits. I’m being debriefed and then hopefully I can go home.”
“So, I won’t start really worrying unless I don’t hear you’re on your way by tomorrow morning?”
“That sounds reasonable. I’ve already let them know what’s up,” Stiles glared at the camera once more.
“Yeah kiddo, I’d hoped to see you tonight too,” his dad said. “And you better be home tomorrow. These decorations won’t put up themselves.”
“Damn right they won’t. You can totally send a werewolf to chop down a tree though. Or at least haul one for you. They’re gonna be eating with us and should at least bring a tree. It’s my new rule that I just made up,” Stiles decided as the door opened and Agent Coulson stepped back inside the room with a file trailed by Darcy and a cup of coffee.
“I’ll take that under advisement. Especially considering the enormity of last year’s tree.” His dad laughed.
“Scott doesn’t do anything halfway,” Stiles agreed. “Look. I’ll talk to you later if I’ve not been absorbed into the Land of Spooky-Doo.”
Coulson looked like he wanted to roll his eyes. Darcy did and sat down at the table draping her coat over the back of the chair and pulling her beanie off and sipping her coffee. Making a face with each taste.
Stiles hung up and put his phone on the table and resisted the urge to fidget. He was past fidgeting. He was in that post-semester state of being bone-tired and still wired. He’s faced down monsters. He will not allow himself to be made nervous because of a suit wearing bureaucrat and a sassy girl--or at least not the bureaucrat. Girls were still kind of terrifying all on their own. Especially smart ones that looked like they had his number and Darcy looked quietly amused and Stiles was pretty sure that was terrible.
Or maybe awesome. He honestly didn’t know.
“Mr. Stillinski, with the extent that you are already aware of the more extraordinary aspects of the world I’m sure that we can resolve this matter quickly,” Agent Coulson offered. “Especially since Thor swears that you are an individual with a noble heart and a fierce pack that inspires great loyalty.”
“Thor is pretty rad. He also has amazing aim,” Stiles allowed, remembering Thor’s utter delight in knocking pixies into trees three at a time.
“Indeed,” Coulson gave a little nod.
“Big guy is pissed that they brought you in, just so you know,” Darcy said and then made a face at her coffee. “This coffee is shit. You make better coffee than this, right?”
She pushed her cup towards him.
“I’m not going to drink that. It doesn’t even actually smell like coffee,” Stiles frowned and scooted it back.
“And this is why you need a new coffee maker in the break room,” Darcy gave Coulson a pointed look. “Even Stiles can tell this sludge isn’t real coffee and he hasn’t even tasted it. You should get those two geeks of yours on it for making a proper coffee machine.”
“Darcy, now isn’t the time,” Coulson frowned at her.
“It is ALWAYS the time to discuss coffee, Coulson.” Darcy fixed him with a look and sighed deeply.
“Mr. Stilinski, as I was saying, based on your previous experience with things supernatural in nature, I and my associates feel comfortable in allowing you to sign a disclosure statement that will not only allow your life to continue as normal, but also provide an exchange of information when the need arises.”
“I won’t sell out my friends just so I can leave today,” Stiles said, his turn to frown at Coulson.
“You misunderstand. The disclosure is to ensure that you won’t go telling any media outlets of any adventures you have with Norse gods and any of his associates you might meet. Not only that, but I also have an offer for you.” Coulson was almost smiling as he opened the folder and spread the two sheets of paper out on the table.
“Go on,” Stiles lifted an eyebrow.
“On one hand you sign this promising you won’t disclose any of your interactions with any of the Avengers or S.H.I.E.L.D. as a whole and we won’t contact you for any reason unless it is absolutely necessary,” Coulson tapped one sheet of paper. “On the other you agree to not disclose as well, but we also put you on retainer for your expertise focusing primarily on werewolves. We at S.H.I.E.L.D. recognize that sometimes it helps to have access to people who would be invaluable and you would certainly be a great resource.” Then Coulson smiled slightly, “I did mention you’d be paid?”
“That’s actually far less evil than I was expecting,” Stiles frowned and then lifted an eyebrow at Darcy. “Does he usually have a catch? He’s secretly evil isn’t he?”
“Does he look like he has room to be secretly evil with all that starch?” Darcy asked, smirking.
“Right,” Stiles nodded. “I’m gonna need to read both of these before I sign on for retainer. Especially with the understanding that it’s Christmas Break and I’d very much like to be home by tomorrow evening. I don’t care if you show me where you keep the super secret toys, I’m not missing Christmas.”
“That’s completely fair,” Coulson agreed.
“Told ya he was a keeper, Coulson,” Darcy smirked, delighted and then high fived Stiles. He couldn’t help but smile back, surprised that he wasn’t going to be whisked off into a dark corner. Win.
Stiles had been back on campus a few weeks. He kept feeling like he was being watched, but not in a hostile way. So he’d decided to ignore it until who ever was watching decided to say hi. It was on a cold late January afternoon when Darcy strolled into the coffee shop, strutting up the counter, propping her elbows on it, and grinning at Stiles, eyes sparkling.
“Ms. Lewis,” Stiles fluttered his eyelashes at her. Darcy had been texting him frequently over the break. They were quickly becoming friends. She was wickedly funny and didn’t hesitate to take the piss out of him. It was more than a little awesome. She also enjoyed twizzlers and watching terrible 80s horror movies.
Stiles also loved watching his coworker Mike flail at the sight of her and then attempt to get her incredibly complicated coffee order--that changed every time she was in--correct. Mike might be more than a little in love with her. Or overwhelmed by her amazing cleavage. Or both.
“Stiles,” Darcy smirked and then grinned slyly at Mike. “Hey Mike.”
“Hi,” Mike said and flailed a hand. “What can I get you today?”
“A half-whip, soy, double shot caramel macchiato with a dash of cinnamon and a squirt of vanilla,” Darcy rattled off.
“Here or to go? And would you like a pastry?” Mike asked and swallowed nervously.
“Mike you are all the sweetness I can handle,” Darcy smirked. “And I’ll be having that to go and Stiles gets his 15 minute break.”
“Sure, yes,” Mike nearly knocked over the entire display of coffee syrups, “On it.”
“Good catch Mike,” Stiles nodded. “And should I even ask you what you want or am I just following or is this horror movie related? Please say movie related. It’s not, isn’t it?”
“Oh sweetie, I only love you for your movies on Wednesdays,” Darcy patted Stiles on the cheek. “This is expertise related.”
“Ah, patronizing face touches. Here I was starting to miss you after not seeing you for two weeks,” Stiles rolled his eyes. “Silly me.”
“You are many things, dude and silly is one of them,” Darcy confirmed and smiled at Mike as he handed her coffee over. “You are a prince Mike. Come along Stiles.”
They left Mike blushing and stammering and made their way outside. Stiles day probably just then got a whole lot more interesting. He wouldn’t have it any other way.