FBI (For Basic Idiots) [FemStiles&Derek]

A Helping Hand

“Yes, dad, of course I bought you Turkish Delight... Obviously the rose and melon ones.” Stiles rolls her eyes, phone trapped between ear and shoulder as she ties her unruly hair into a messy bun on top her head.

“Yes, I bought you the cufflinks, too... Yes; the same ones you wore and lost at your wedding. You know this. I sent you the photo on WhatsApp, like, ten times. Check your messages, old man.” She laughs at his response.

“Nat still stressing?” She sighs, shakes her head, is smiling amusedly as she says, “I dunno why she doesn’t just sit back, relax and let Red do the rest. It's an anniversary party for you guys, not your actual wedding, AND it’s what both daughters and party planners are for in this situation. And it’s lucky for us that Red is both of those things.”

Stiles cackles at his reply. “Ah, that’s the problem, huh? Lydia does love taking charge. Surprised she’s not our Alpha instead of Scott.”

Her dad lets out an exasperated groan, then, playfully calls her his “beautiful little monster” – the nickname her mother used to give her. That makes Stiles smile. But then, he asks how she’s been lately, and Stiles always hates lying to him, but even more, can’t bare to burden him with her bullshit. The man retired a few years ago now, and after all his own bullshit he’s been through, nobody knows better than Stiles – and maybe Nat – how much he really deserves his peace and quiet.

So, like she always does, Stiles smiles to try to fool herself and tells him, “I’ve been good. Nothing too major. Just real swamped with work. Until now, I haven’t even really seen the pack for a while. I’ll head up to see you over New Year, if that’s OK?”

She smiles, a real smile, when he tells that’s more than OK, and that he can’t wait to see her, and as always, how much he misses her. “I miss you, too, dad... Yeah, one by one, everybody’s finishing work for the holidays this week... Today? Not much. Just helping Jordan with a case out of boredom. Might go see if Derek needs a hand with anything.”

Stiles flushes terribly, feels her face fucking burning at her father’s silly words, practically sputters out her words. “Oh. My God. You are my father. Why would you say something like that?”

He laughs, delivers what he probably thinks is a rather witty response, and Stiles scoffs loudly before sarcastically replying, “Oh, so, ‘I bet I know what Derek would like you to give him a HAND with?’ isn’t TOTALLY fucked up for a guy to say to his kid?!”

He laughs again, louder this time, replies rather wittily this time, and Stiles has to huff loudly in defeat before admitting, “Yeah, I know I’m worse.” She scoffs, snootily adds, “But where do you think I get it from?”

She scoffs again, louder. “My mother was an angel compared to you, father Lucifer.”

She smiles softly when he doesn’t hesitate to agree on the angel part. He tells her then, voice filled with affection, how so very much Stiles looks like her mother, more and more the older she grows. He tells her he’s sorry, like he always does whenever he’s had a little too much red wine, and Stiles can only chuckle heartily and tells him he needs to get his ass in bed before Nat comes home and kicks his ass into bed for him. He tells her she’s right, like he always does, and Stiles smiles as she listens to him yawning and shuffling around.

“Goodnight, pops. Love you.”

“Night. Love you, too, mały potwór. [– little monster.]”

Stiles smiles softly to herself, does so every time he calls her that, always has. “See you real soon.”

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