Sterek One Shots (manxman)

I Have Faith In Nights *Chapter Six *

Title - I Have Faith In Nights

Author - DaintyBoots

Comment(s): We're close to the end! Vote for chapter seven and happy reading!!

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Chapter Six

Chapter Text -

"You ready to go kiddo?"

This SWAT team official seemed like a nice guy, Derek thought. Seemed like the type who could efficiently execute an undercover drugs bust and be home on time to tuck the kids in. Derek could appreciate that in a person, he honestly could. He always admired people who could separate their job from their outside life. When he considered the situation he was about to embark on, he reckoned he had probably failed spectacularly in that particular area of expertise. So that was probably why he wanted the guy to just fuck off. Perhaps he was under the impression that his soft words would set Stiles at ease or something. The man's sympathetic eyes slid backwards and forwards, in time with the dime Stiles was rolling across his knuckles. A few nights ago, in an attempt to alleviate Stiles's boredom, Derek decided to teach him how to coin walk. Predictably, Stiles had quickly become completely enamoured with the trick, and after several instances of irretrievable coins under the fridge, Derek had to admit he was becoming pretty good at it.

The letters, stars and numerous other markings on his fingers rose and fell in time to the coin's walk, the surface bones of the back of his hand pulling and releasing delicately. Stiles looked up at the agent, wicked grin already set in place.

"Ready as I'll ever be Mister Man."

Derek could feel his face slide a cold smile. The agent nodded uncertainly and turned away, apparently unnerved by this joint audience of fire and ice. Derek rubbed his eye with the heel of his hand, hoping that none of the other team members approached them. It just irritated him that, to all appearances, Stiles was born to do this. In the eyes of the division, he might as well be gift-wrapped, a ready-made street kid, rough and numb to any kind of notions of self-preservation. But Derek could see it; see the slight widening of the eyes, the almost imperceptible shiver that could simply be mistaken as a junkie's twinge. And along with last night's screams of pure terror, this was all the proof Derek needed that nobody should have to deal with this shit.

However, there were other people who were of an entirely different mind to Derek. Quite a number of people, in fact. Stiles's little idea had somehow turned into a major operation, one that Reyes had booted all the way up to the Chief, who had come galloping out of his office to wish them all luck. Derek couldn't help but notice that after the Chief had shook hands with Stiles, he had surreptitiously wiped his hand in his trousers.

God, he hated this fucking city.

Even Reyes seemed to be nervous, badgering their sweaty little wire tapper, Mallin, to check and recheck Stiles's wire. It had been something of a task to try and tape the wire in a way in which it wouldn't be noticeable. Stiles usually wore small t-shirts or raggedy wife beaters, neither of which would be conducive to hiding an interception device. And, as Stiles himself pointed out, it was hardly like he could march in with a bulky jacket on. After much squirming and protestations on Stiles's part, they had finally secured a device that was entirely unnoticeable. Or at least, it looked that way to Derek.

Jesus, was it?

Derek was startled from his reverie that had been slowly mounting into full-blown panic by a small slap on the linoleum floor. Stiles had dropped the coin. The kid bent to pick it back up, but with his almost non-existent fingernails and that persistent tremor, he seemed to be having difficulties. Derek picked it off the floor, pressed it back into Stiles's palm, right into the centre of the yellow smiley face. He could feel the slight dampness of the skin underneath his fingertips.