MissBouquiniste



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    Double-oh agents are a piece of work; Stiles knew that before he became MI6's new quartermaster. It's cool, he survived Lydia in college, he can deal with stubborn, reckless, trigger-happy operatives. Derek Hale, though, is definitely trying to live up to his predecessor's legacy and make Stiles' life more difficult.

     

    AKA the one where Derek is 007 and Stiles is Q and they bitch and angst their way to a Happy Ending.

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    23 Apr 2018

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      Stiles nearly laughs and for a moment, he sits there trying to think of anything to say. "It's been a good year," he croaks at long last. "I got you back--I got you back and I was so scared I'd lose you, you know? I got out there; I backpacked across half of Europe with my best friends - I got to see the never less than perfectly composed Lydia Martin after a few days without showers or real beds. Scott and Allison got married, dad. I made a speech."

      The Sheriff's expression softens and he smiles, reaching up and clapping Stiles' shoulder. "You did. I was there. You had Melissa, Scott and Allison in tears."

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    18 Apr 2018

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    Derek’s worked at McCall’s for three years, just about as long Stiles has been the pianist, and not once has Stiles ever sung a song about him.

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    18 Apr 2018

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    January seventh. Seven days since the start of 2015, and seven days since his father’s death.

    The bastard, he thinks bitterly. The past year Derek Hale had made it blatantly obvious that he hated his scrawny guts, taking every given opportunity to shove him up against a wall, growl threats in his ears and roll his eyes whenever he stepped into the room, muttering some snide comment about how spastic or idiotic he was.

    So why did he fucking volunteer to take him in?

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    15 Apr 2018

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    12 Apr 2018