Amelia 'Mia' Argent has been raised to fear the supernatural. Coming from a long lineage of werewolf hunters, she is being trained to hunt and one day become the leader of her team. But when her family moves to Beacon Hills in search for an Alpha, t...
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"You want me to do what?"
"Trace a text."
"I came here to do lab work. That's what lab partners do."
"And we will, once you trace the text!"
Danny was standing in Stiles' room, rightfully confused. Him and Stiles were arguing back and forth about tracing the text Allison had received from Scott the night of the attack. Mia, who was freshly showered and currently putting band-aids on her scraped knees, was watching them intently.
"Who's he again?" Danny asked quietly, gesturing to Derek. The man was sitting next to Stiles' bed, a random book opened in his hands. He was strung tight like a wire, eyebrows furrowed. Mia wondered how he hadn't gotten wrinkles yet.
Stiles glanced at Derek, then at her.
"Uh, that's Mia's boyfriend," he said, his words making both Mia and Derek look up in shock, "...Miguel."
She glanced at Derek. He looked like he was about to rip the book to shreds. She turned back to Danny and offered him a smile, nodding, "We won't bother you two, don't worry."
"Is that blood on his shirt?" the boy asked.
"Yes, yes, well–" Stiles was scrambling for another excuse.
"He gets these crazy nosebleeds," she interrupted, channeling all of her pathetic acting skills. She reached out to brush her fingers against the bloody patch on Derek's shirt, as if to wipe it off, "Looks like a crime scene every time, I swear."
"Yeah, Miguel," Stiles added, "I thought I told you you could borrow one of my shirts?"
The murderous look in Derek's eyes was almost funny. He slammed the book shut and threw it to Mia, who caught it, all the air escaping from her lungs from the force of the throw. It was a silent attack, but it only made her more amused. She watched as Derek pulled his shirt off and began rummaging through Stiles' clothes, much like she had.
When Derek turned around with a shirt in his hands, full torso on display, Mia's amusement vanished and she turned her eyes away, afraid to look at his body for more than two seconds. Derek was already intimidating clothed, but his muscles and smooth skin was something else.
She didn't want to admit that she found an asshole like Derek attractive.
Apparently, neither did Danny. He did, however, eventually agree to trace the text. Mia shuffled closer to them and high-fived Stiles under the table.
After about twenty minutes of sitting in a painful silence, Danny finally let out a sigh that made everyone in the room perk up.
"There," he said, pointing at the screen. "This text was sent from a computer. This one."
Derek leaned in closer, "Registered to that account name?"
"No, no, no, that can't be right," Stiles frowned. "Mia, you know something about this?"
