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He Doesn't Bite. Much.

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Beacon Hills. Beacon Hills was a familiar place to Derek Hale. Who, until the age of 16, had been a resident. He knew this city like the back of his hand. All the crooks and crannies. All the possible places where criminals would hide. After his time running a panic over the city, he should damn well know this place.

Maybe that's why he was sitting in the Sheriff's office right.

That and maybe the third dead body that had showed up on the streets. Actually, the body was found in the alley on Citrus St, between the old movie theatre and the coffee place. Across from the old dance studio. Downtown. Derek could probably give you directions there without blinking.

Sheriff Stilinski was a good man. Overworked, stress but a good man. He had graying hair, wrinkles on his forehead, and an old watch that had something engraved around the edges. He also had a picture of his family on his desk. Actually he had an old picture. There was the image of the Sheriff but much younger. He had an arm around a pale brunette who seemed waif-like. She had beauty marks on her face. There was also a toddler in the picture, grinning mischievously at the camera. The boy's coloring matched his mothers. But the glint in his eyes could only be from the Sheriff. The other picture held the boy, but older. At a graduation. Probably High school. The boy had his arms around another boy, this one with a crooked jaw. And that it. Derek was sure the Sheriff would stare at those pictures every time he had to pause to figure out a case. He would trace his wife's loving gaze and chuckle at his son's cleverness even at that age. Currently, however, he was sifting through a large file labeled 'HALE, D.'

Both he and sheriff knew what was in that 2 inch thick file. After all, they had been involved in each single case. But Derek guessed that this was all for show. He could see the Sheriff's eyes skimming the papers too face to even really process the information. Otherwise, there would be no point in going through the records and still have him sitting there as a possible candidate for the job. Or it was to make Derek nervous. The room was silent, slightly warm to counter the chill hanging outside. The only noises were of Derek breathing and papers being shuffled.

Finally, after what felt like an hour, the Sheriff coughed, raising his blue eyes to meet Derek's own.

"Well son, what do you think?" The older man asked, leaning back into his chair. His expression betrayed nothing. A talent honed by all officers after working for a long time in the field.

"I think I might an asset to your team Sheriff." He leaned forward, clasping his hands between his legs. "The only Derek Hale, people remember in this city is of the dumb teenager who did all sorts of stupid stuff. No one would bat an eye if I were discovered to be a part of the gang problem."

"Well you certainly dress the part of a drug dealer." The Sheriff muttered, eyeing the boy's leather jacket and dark shirt. "You do understand the dangers of this case correct?"

"Yes sir, my boss back in San Fran briefed me before my drive here." Derek nodded.

"And no one saw you come in here correct?"

"No sir. No one saw me."

"Well let's get you moved into the apartment and have you begin living your new life. Your first step is to cause a problem but get initiated into the local gang." The sheriff sighed, rubbing his face. "Only Deputy Parrish will know of this case. Report to him, he will be your contact."

"Yes sir." Derek stood as the Sheriff moved to stand. They shook hands, the sheriff not letting go.

"I need you to be careful here kid." He let the hand go. "And thank you, for volunteering for this gig."

"After all the mayhem I caused, I feel like I should repay you." Derek smirked as the Sheriff let out a laugh.

"It was more than just mayhem kid."

Looking back down at the file sitting on the desk, Derek smiled softly.

"I guess it was."

*

Jordan Parrish was a man not much older than Derek. With blonde hair and an altruistic personality, he greeted Derek with a warm smile.

"Let's get you to your apartment. That way I can help you move in while getting you set up."

And that's exactly what they were doing now. The apartment was a bare studio. The bed off to the corner on the floor while there was a huge hole through one of the walls. When Derek had asked, Parrish just smiled.

"The Sheriff's son thought it would be a good idea to make the place look more chaotic." Was all he said.

Derek nodded and had to agree. The wall did make the place seem more like it belonged to someone dangerous.

"Smart kid."

"You have no idea." Was all that Parrish had muttered.

After the clean up the place did seem a bit livable. With barely any utensils in the kitchen, and a small tv on a crate next to the wall. Derek actually liked the place. His favorite would have to be the second story where they had put together a small library.

The two sat on the old couch, sipping their beers.

"This is your disposable phone. It has my number in it along with the few agents we have undercover there also. The minute you think the phone has been compromised, destroy it. Memorize my number so you call me. Beacon Hills isn't a small town. So you should have no trouble finding a spot where all you could meet up. In fact, one of our agents has the orders to harass you for a while before they take you to the boss," Parrish spoke as if this was all matter of fact. And it was. It truly was, But Derek was also tired after the long drive from New York and after the setting up his apartment.

"Alright." Derek nodded along.

"For now you just need to get in. Therefore you'll be pushing at the local clubs. They're all placebos, and the money you collect will be put in a safe account until needed. Make sense?"

"Yeah so I'll just be tricking stupid kids for the first few weeks."

"Exactly."

They stayed silent for a bit.

"You know they'll be some psychological factors-" Derek cut him off with an annoyed groan.

"Why do you and the Sheriff think I'm not aware of all the possible dangers of this type of operation? I've gone to the academy, I have a masters in criminal pathology. I know what is going to happen." Derek said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Our apologies then. But we just need to make sure." Parrish didn't sound like he was being sarcastic. Quite the opposite.

"Sorry...it's just been a really long day." Derek apologized, staring at his shoes.

"No worries. I'll get out of here and let you rest. From here on out, you'll be Derek Hale the drug dealer." Parrish knocked back the last of his beer and made his own way out the door.

Leaving Derek alone.