FBI (For Basic Idiots) [FemStiles&Derek]

An Echo

“I speak without a mouth, I hear without ears. I have no body, but I come alive with the wind... What am I?”

“An echo.” Stiles slowly sits up in bed, her eyes landing on her “visitor.” She’s calm, but sounds tired as she says, “That’s all you are – just an echo of a bad memory. Now, leave me alone. “ She lets out a dismissive huff before pulling herself out of bed. “I’ve got a breakfast date with an annoyingly sexy werewolf, and I will not let you ruin it.” She states snootily, still doesn’t know if she’s really talking to Him, or just talking to herself. And when He suddenly shimmers and vanishes, she doesn’t feel any more... sane.

“Ohh, and which sexy werewolf might that be?” Melissa chimes out just as her head pops in through the half open door.

“Dear – God!” Stiles squeals, hands pressed over her racing heart. She glares over at the smirking woman. “All kinds of supernaturals love to sneak up on me, my friends included. I don’t need you adding to mix and finally giving me a heart attack.”

“I think if that was gonna happen, it would have by now.” Melissa’s smirk widens, dark eyes glinting mischievously.

Stiles scoffs quietly, walks back to her suitcase. “I know you’re a nurse, but when it comes to the supernatural, anything is possible.”

“Yes, it is.” Melissa takes a seat on the end of the bed, watches as the younger woman roots through her clothes, smiles to herself when she sees that nothing has changed – that Stiles still keeps her things organised... unlike a certain Alpha Werewolf son of hers. “So, would this annoyingly sexy werewolf you’ve got a breakfast date with be the tall, dark and handsome one?”

Stiles pauses her efforts to shoot the older woman a withering look.

“What?” Melissa chuckles out, smiles innocently. “Your words.”

“It’s not actually date. I was just... y’know...” Stiles admits with a sigh as she plops her ass down onto the rug. “And werewolves are mostly all tall, dark and handsome.”

Melissa chuckles again, nods her agreement. “True.” The mischief in her orbs only seems to twinkle all the more as she says, “But literally everybody who isn’t Derek Hale knows how pathetically in love you’ve always been with him. Which is both adorable and infuriating, because he’s very intuitive, even for a werewolf.”

Stiles slowly folds her arms over her chest and shoots the older woman – her so-called (practically) adoptive mother – a (pathetic) glare.

Melissa smiles sheepishly. “I meant ‘sweetly’ in love.”

“Uh-huh.” Stiles grumbles. “Thanks.”

“Well, I mean, he’s pretty pathetic, too. You two need to just pull your heads out of one another’s asses already, because after almost 15 years, and it’s getting old. It was cute, at first. And I get that he didn’t wanna be a creep and make a move before you were finished with high school, but you’re both adults now. And I would like some grandkids before I die, Stiles. So... get on with it.” Melissa tells her, tone casual, as if they’re merely talking about the weather.

As the awkward teen she really was, Stiles' limbs would have flailed about while she scrambled for a response to that. She’s a little more graceful now, but only a little. Instead, she scoffs awkwardly, and maybe sputters for a response anyway. “OK, first of all, for the love of all supernatural ears, keep your voice down, because I have about 10 minutes left to get ready and Derek is always early! ...which is just another cute and considerate thing I like about him...”