Work Text:
“Mr. Hale?”
Derek turns, eyes scanning over the rest of the class, then looks down at the boy who called for his attention.
“Yes, Andy?”
“Mr. Hale, I’m finished,” Andy says, handing over a sheet of paper.
Derek glances at it, and then back at Andy.
“Already?”
He knows the boy is smart, but this is the fastest he’s ever handed in a worksheet that Derek gave out to the class. Andy is also prone to doing what he’s not meant to be doing instead of working on the assignment, so Derek takes the worksheet off him and narrows his eyes on the scribbles. The handwriting isn’t easily legible, but he’s used to the kids in fourth grade still getting a handle on writing nicely. The school didn’t drop cursive from the curriculum entirely, but it’s not a priority, and Derek knows that some of the kids struggle with finding a way that works best for them.
Andy’s penmanship is awful, but some of it is due to the fact that he thinks faster than he can write. The worksheet, despite Derek’s worries, is filled correctly, with no skipped problems or wrong answers.
“That’s very well done, Andy,” Derek says, still a little suspicious.
“I know,” Andy says, not even a hint of humility. “Can I go to the reading corner now?”
Derek takes a deep breath, steadying his nerves. He did promise the kids that once they were finished, they could use the remaining time of the day — it’s getting close to home time — however they wish. He did so because he knew that the math worksheets usually took up most of the time leading up to the final bell, but there are at least fifteen minutes left now.
It also catches him off guard that it’s the reading corner that Andy wants to go to. Usually, when he’s done, he gets redirected to help out one of the kids who are struggling a little more, but it’s never for the worksheets this close to the end of the day. When it’s coming up to home time, Andy normally asks to either head to the dress up corner, or to arts and crafts. Both of them, without fail, leave him in a mess by the time he needs to leave, and he always still has to pack his bag before he goes.
Luckily, he’s the one student whom Derek doesn’t have to walk to the pick up point. After all, his father is in the classroom right next to Derek’s, with a class of fifth-graders. Amongst them, Derek’s daughter Nat.
“Okay,” Derek finally replies.
Andy looks at him with a surprised expression, then obviously decides that questioning Derek’s answer is likely to get it revoked, and he dashes over to the bean bag surrounded by bookshelves before Derek can reprimand him for running in the classroom.
By the time the final bell rings, Derek has walked around the classroom a few times, collected most of the worksheets, and watched the kids who finished spread out around the room to various stations they liked best. Andy — Derek checked regularly — hasn’t moved from the reading corner. It’s almost as unsettling at the fact that when the bell rings, he’s the first one already packed and by the door, asking Derek if he can head to his father’s classroom.
“Straight there, no detours,” Derek says.
“It’s right there, Mr. Hale,” Andy tells him.
“I’m aware. I’m just not sure you are,” Derek says. “Remember the time you ended up in Ms. Allison’s room instead?”
“That was all the way at the start of the year! I was new!”
“And you know the school as well as anyone else here,” Derek points out.
“Nat knows it better, she’s older,” Andy objects.
“Fine, go,” Derek waves him off. “Tell Nat to meet me here.”
Andy is gone before Derek can make sure he heard the request. The rest of the class is lining up at the door though, so Derek turns to them instead — after a glance out of the door to watch Andy slip into the classroom he’s meant to go to — and starts ushering them outside once they’re all ready. When they’ve all been collected by their parents and guardians, Derek heads back to pack up his own things.
He’s not at all surprised that Nat isn’t waiting for him in his room. More often than not, she stays behind in her own room when Andy’s gone there. The two of them have struck up a friendship this year, only partly because both he and Andy’s father Stiles can’t collect them like the rest of the parents, since they’re working in the school.
Derek knows little about Stiles despite their working in neighboring rooms for a few months now. But between teaching, preparation for the upcoming days, and being a single parent to his daughter, he barely has any time to socialize. And when he does have time, he spends it with teachers he knew longer — the third class teacher Erica, or the kindergarten teacher Boyd. Stiles is new to the school, only transferred here at the beginning of the year, along with Lydia — the vice principal, and as far as Derek was informed, Andy’s birth mother. He also knows that Stiles is, despite Lydia’s presence in their lives, Andy’s only guardian, with the exception of emergencies.
As little as he knows though, he never bothered lying to himself about his interest in Stiles. Ever since his classroom door burst open on the first day of school, and the two Stilinskis stumbled in — Stiles apologizing, Andy immediately rushing towards the other kids — Derek was lost.
But, time. And the fact that he can’t exactly afford to date whenever he feels like it. Especially not when the person he’s interested in is a colleague.
He packs his bag quickly, grabbing piles of worksheets to correct at home, and heads over to the next room, hoping that his daughter hasn’t wandered off too far.
As he knows he should’ve expected, Nat and Andy are huddled in a corner, looking like they’re conspiring in ways that Derek doesn’t want to think about.
“Nat, home time,” he says when they both look up in an eerily synchronized move, with identical expressions, like he caught them doing something they shouldn’t be doing.
Which, in the case of both his daughter and her best friend, is more likely than Derek cares to consider. Especially when they’re both looking like they got caught with their hands in the cookie jar. And they’re alone.
“Hey, where’s Stiles?”
Now, when there are no other students around, Derek doesn’t bother tacking on the “Mr” to the name. Stiles doesn’t use his last name with the kids a lot — Derek heard him explain that it’s easier for them to just learn his nickname — but Nat knows better than to even address him informally while in class. Nat and Andy both know all the other teachers by their first names anyway. Nat since she was small, but Andy caught on to that quickly.
“He had someone to talk to,” Andy says, a little too quickly.
“He said he’d be back in a few minutes,” Nat adds. “We could wait, Dad, so that Andrzej isn’t left unsupervised.”
There’s a glint in her eye, and Derek frowns. The way she says it, like she’s imploring him to be a responsible adult, is not new, but she usually saves it for when it’s just them. Add to that the use of Andy’s full, official name, and Derek’s suspicion rises through the roof.
“What are you two up to?”
Nat just smiles sweetly, and she props her chin up on her hands, looking like a picture of innocence. Derek isn’t buying it in the slightest, all too aware of his daughter’s tricks.
“I’m okay with waiting, Dad,” she says. “You could even go back to your room, and I’ll come over when Mr. Stiles comes back. Or, you could wait with us, if you wanted to.”
“What about Grandma?” Derek asks.
Any other time, Nat would dart right out on a day when she’s being dropped off at Derek’s mother’s place. She’s the first and so far only grandchild, and Talia revels in spoiling her, which Nat never wants to miss.
“It’s not like it’s going to be long,” Nat says, not budging from her spot. “I’m sure she’d understand we wanted to make sure Andy was fine.”
“Unlike any of the other times that he, or you for that matter, waited for Stiles or me alone after classes were over?” Derek asks, eyebrow raised at her.
“Mhm,” Nat hums in agreement.
“What’s gotten into you two?” Derek questions, confused.
“As opposed to the way they are any other time?” Stiles asks from the doorway.
Derek doesn’t jump, not in the slightest. He only maybe startles a little, not having heard Stiles’s footsteps, or the door opening.
“Slight deviation from the norm,” he manages to say when he catches his breath again, and when he’s done glaring daggers at his chuckling daughter. “It was apparently imperative that we not leave Andy alone until you came back.”
Stiles raises his eyebrow at the two kids in the same way that Derek did earlier.
“But now that you’re here, and there is no need to worry about anyone being left unsupervised,” Derek says, looking pointedly at Nat, “I’m pretty sure we have places to go and people to see. Right, Natalia?”
“Right,” Nat says, slightly deflated.
She grabs her backpack, and trudges towards the door, glancing back at Andy with an expression that Derek would think was apologetic, if it made even a shred of sense. He has no idea what she’s up to, and he’s pretty sure he doesn’t want to know. But at the same time, kids conspiring like this is never a good sign, and he feels like he should get to the bottom of it. But not now, not before they’re alone and he can talk to Nat properly.
“Bye Mr. Hale,” Andy says, with the same sweet smile that Nat had earlier.
“Goodbye, Andy,” Derek replies automatically.
Then he catches himself, manners that Talia raised him with kicking in.
“Stiles,” he says by way of goodbye, giving Stiles a quick nod.
He doesn’t wait for a response, and he ushers Nat into the corridor, closing the door behind them. Then, without word, he leads Nat towards the back door that leads to the staff car park. She doesn’t speak either, and Derek considers himself lucky that she doesn’t drag her feet as they make their way to their car.
The next two weeks continue in a similar fashion. During breaks, after classes are over, whenever there’s a moment of time when Nat and Andy don’t have to be in their classrooms or with their classmates, they’re huddled together and whispering. Derek is already suspecting something untoward, but it’s not like he can ask them and expect a reply. Whenever he tried in the past, Nat would tell him it’s only talking, and he had no reason to question her then. However, the kids are clearly up to something now.
Eventually, after the second week of whispering and delays in getting home, for reasons that sound more and more flimsy, and continue to result in him and Stiles waiting for them to cooperate, Derek decides to bite the bullet and asks the only other person who might know what’s going on. Stiles.
“So,” he starts during lunch break on a Friday.
He would usually sit with Erica and Boyd at their table, but he left them alone this time. Instead, he veered towards the corner in the back, where Stiles usually sat. Erica’s surprised look was obvious enough even though Derek tried really hard to pretend he didn’t see it.
“Yes?” Stiles asks, between mouthfuls of fries.
“Our kids have been weird lately,” Derek says, immediately cringing at the wording.
“More than usual?” Stiles asks, unfazed.
“Well, it feels like it’s different. Maybe not worse,” Derek muses. “You didn’t notice?”
“That they’re conspiring about something all the time?” Stiles glances at Derek. “Yeah, I noticed. Haven’t asked though, because it’s unlikely Andy will tell me.”
Derek nods, having come to the same conclusion about Nat. He can’t help but wonder if he should be doing more to find out what the kids are up to.
“Do you think we should be worried?”
Stiles glances at him again, then shakes his head.
“I think we’d know they’re up to something illegal or dangerous by now,” he tells Derek. “Well, at least I’d know, because Andy has zero chill in front of my Dad, and he sings like a canary if he’s done or even just thought about doing anything that the law might not approve of.”
Derek frowns, confused.
“My Dad’s the Sheriff a few towns over,” Stiles explains. “We talk a lot, especially now that he’s about to transfer here.”
“Oh.”
“Andy tends to check in with him about things he’s planning, just to make sure that Pops won’t end up arresting him. Or me, seeing as Andy’s a minor,” Stiles chuckles a little bitterly. “If that kid grows up to be a lawyer, I fear for everyone.”
“Negotiating skills?” Derek questions, shuddering when he thinks about Nat’s own.
“Through the roof. Can’t find his way out of the bed in the morning, but he’ll talk himself out of just about everything,” Stiles says, huffing in annoyance. “He also knows how to not tell me things he doesn’t want me to know. As long as they’re not dangerous to anyone’s health. With the obvious exception of my own sanity, of course.”
“So,” Derek says, realizing that they’re both in the same boat. “We shouldn’t panic.”
“Oh, I panic. I just do it so much that it’s a normal state of being by now,” Stiles says, lips curled into a smirk. “Started about the time that Lydia agreed to be my surrogate. Reaaally ramped up when they handed me Andy for the first time.”
“Ah,” Derek breathes out.
He remembers the first time he held the tiny bundle of blankets with a pink face peering out at him, and the feeling of utter fear when he realized that it would be only him and Nat from that moment on. So he gets it. But he’d still appreciate knowing why his daughter seems to be on a mission that somehow involves Stiles’s son and potentially Derek and Stiles themselves.
“I think they’ll tell us if it becomes necessary,” Stiles says, looking less worried than Derek has been lately. “There’s an upside.”
“Oh?”
“Well, these days, we can be pretty sure that if we find one of them, we can stop looking for the other,” Stiles tells him, then chuckles. “Maybe they’ve been cursed and can’t stay away from each other for too long? Or they’ve been possessed by Pinky and the Brain, so the mission is to conquer the world? I mean, Andy’s obviously Brain, and it’s not entirely impossible.”
Derek stares as he tries to process Stiles’s rambling. It’s kind of like talking to the kids in his class, or Nat, but with a deeper voice and a taller person.
“Sorry,” Stiles mutters when Derek just keeps staring. “I ramble. And my mind is a little overactive. Used to drive my Dad crazy, but it’s pretty awesome around the kids. I can keep up with them, but I tend to forget to tone it down when I’m not teaching.”
“It’s okay,” Derek mutters.
He surprises himself when he realizes that he means it. There’s something about Stiles’s rambling that is not unpleasant — he’s not sure if it’s the sound of his voice, or the tone, but even though he’s a quiet person himself, Derek doesn’t mind. He’s actually tempted to tell Stiles to keep talking, which is not a feeling he’s familiar with.
He shakes it off, and before he can say anything else, the bell rings to notify them of the upcoming end of the break.
“Well, I’ll probably see you after pick up,” Stiles says as he’s standing up, and walks away to before Derek can respond.
They do see each other after classes are over that day, and every day following for another two weeks. By the end of the second one, Derek’s just about had it with Nat’s increasingly elaborate stories that don’t quite explain why she doesn’t come back to his room, or why Andy’s there with her instead of Stiles’s room.
“Look, I don’t know what the two of you are up to, but I’m not impressed,” he tells her sternly. “You’re delaying home time, you’re making things difficult for both Stiles and me, and I don’t understand what’s gotten into you.”
Nat looks chastised and ducks her head. When she lifts it again, she’s nibbling on her bottom lip nervously.
“I promise it’s nothing bad,” she says.
“That’s only a little comforting,” Derek says. “I would expect you to not get into trouble.”
“It’s just, Andy gets it,” Nat says quietly. “Because Mr. Stiles works here too.”
Derek’s the one who deflates at those words. Sure, he knew that being a teacher in the school she went to was going to be complicated, but it’s not like they had a choice in the small town. Still, hearing from her that it really does affect her makes it more real.
“And I’m not mad or anything,” she quickly adds, eyes widening at Derek’s expression. “It’s kind of awesome to have you here too. But sometimes the other kids don’t think it’s fair.”
“Because they think you guys have an advantage?”
“Yeah. And like, because they can’t just run over and talk to their Moms and Dads.”
“Well, you can’t just run over anytime you want to either,” Derek points out with a small smile.
Nat sighs.
“Well, I’m glad you have someone who understands,” he tells her. “You could have told me, you know?”
“I know. I didn’t want to make you sad.”
“Come here,” he lifts his arm and waits until she snuggles in close.
“I worried at first, but then the excuses were a little too wild,” he explains. “That’s why I wasn’t happy.”
“I’m sorry, Dad,” Nat says, voice small.
Derek nods, accepting her apology. They spend the rest of the evening like that, snuggled close and watching a movie.
His hopes that that’s the end of her scheming are squashed two days later. That’s when he also finds out why she’s been in cahoots with Andy, and what their plan was all along.
Because two days after her apology and their talk, he finds himself locked in the supply closet with none other than Stiles himself.
“Right,” Stiles says, after he’s tried the door for the fifth time. “So, what are the chances that you have your phone with you?”
Derek shakes his head.
“Thought so.” Stiles slumps against the door. “Well, this escalated quickly. I thought they’d keep up with the unsubtle throwing us together for another while.”
“What?” Derek asks, head snapping up to look at Stiles.
“Oh. You didn’t know,” Stiles says, sounding surprised.
“Didn’t know what?”
“This? You don’t think this is a coincidence, right? Or an accident? I mean, I am accident-prone, but getting locked in the supply closet is something I grew out of sometimes around high school, when I found out it’s not all that it’s made out to be,” Stiles rambles.
Derek looks at him pointedly, to urge him to get to the explanation.
“My kid. And yours. They’ve been ever so subtly,” Stiles says, then snorts before he continues, “trying to create situations where the two of us would talk. I thought you knew.”
“I knew Nat was up to something, but….” Derek takes a deep breath. “She told me it was because Andy’s in the same position, you being a teacher here and all.”
“She didn’t lie, if that’s where your mind is going,” Stiles quickly tells him. “It’s tough for them, to be in a school where their Dad is all the time, and the other kids get stupid ideas about preferential treatment and all. It just wasn’t all of it.”
“You sound like you’ve been there,” Derek blurts, his brain still trying to process what Stiles is saying about their kids’ scheming.
“I was. In high school,” Stiles says. “My Mom was a teacher, my Dad the Sheriff. Let’s just say it was no fun.”
Derek nods, at a loss for anything to say. He’s reeling from the discovery that his own daughter has apparently decided that he needs a matchmaker, and she’s made it a mission to throw him together with Stiles in situations where they’d talk. He wonders, now that they’re actually locked in the closet, how far she’s willing to go.
“So what else do you think the kids have in their arsenal?” Stiles asks, his mind clearly on the same track as Derek’s. “I mean, this was pretty sneaky, I didn’t even notice either of them following us out of the classroom. Unless they have someone else doing their dirty work.”
Derek thinks about that, then runs through the past few weeks in his mind.
“I don’t think anyone else is in on it,” he says. “It’s just them.”
“Well, that’s gonna be easier for payback,” Stiles says, his face lighting up.
“Payback?” Derek looks at him, puzzled.
“Oh come on, we can’t just let this go by without some consequence. And while in the classroom I’m all for following basic guidelines, I do tend to get creative when it’s about Andy,” Stiles says. “The usual things, as you probably noticed, don’t really work.”
“Yeah. Nat can be the same, though she’s gotten better in school at least,” Derek admits.
“Right, so, payback. What do you think?”
“What did you have in mind?” Derek asks, at a loss for where Stiles’s mind could be going with all this.
“We could….”
Stiles starts, then pauses, then takes a deep breath and opens his mouth again.
“Okay, this is a wild guess, and please tell me if I’m entirely off the mark, but I don’t think I am really. But like, please tell me if this is way too inappropriate. I mean, I don’t even know if you’re… anyway, so….”
“Stiles?” Derek interrupts, getting a small idea of what the rambling is heading towards.
“Yeah?”
“Breathe,” Derek says, lips curling into a soft smile. “Would you like to discuss plans for the payback over coffee?”
He’s surprised himself by asking, but the way Stiles nods enthusiastically, Derek knows that he was right. He wants to say something more, but the lock on the door makes a noise, and both he and Stiles turn to it in unison. Derek catches a glimpse of Stiles’s expression and it mirrors the one Derek hopes is on his own face. He’s not sure though, because there’s a warm feeling in his chest, his heart still fluttering a little at the fact that Stiles agreed to what is essentially a date.
The door creaks open, and first Andy’s then Nat’s face peeks around the edge of it, both of them going from curiosity to disappointment in a flash.
“You two are in a world of trouble,” Stiles says sternly.
They both look torn between chastised and unapologetic — Derek didn’t even know that was a possibility, but here he is, looking at his daughter’s face with both expressions on it — but they let themselves be led back to the classrooms.
When Derek glances over to Stiles’s room after the kids are inside, he’s met with the brightest smile, and a mouthed “it’s a date”. He’s pretty sure that his answering smile is still on his face when he slips through his door, if Andy’s suspicious glare is anything to go by.
Derek can’t find it in himself to care. He has a date, and things are looking up.