FBI (For Basic Idiots) [FemStiles&Derek]

The Only Thing Missing

“I know I was kinda snippy at first, but are you sure you can’t stay for a little while at least?” Stiles feels guilty now that she’s had a chance to process the situation.

Dasha smiles sadly. “Sorry, kid. This wasn’t a social call.”

“Right.” Stiles mumbles, can’t help the disappointment from showing on her face.

“If I’m on this plane for more than a few hours, weird shit starts to happen, and it’s hardly ever good weird.” Dasha explains, “Each universe has its own frequency. Mess with those frequencies, and they’ll only right themselves on their own time, and they won’t care about personal matters, only their natural orders.”

Stiles nods, slowly rises from the bed and pulls on a little smile. “Well, it was nice to actually meet you. At least I got that chance.”

“If you don’t think it will freak Noah out too much, please tell him I love him and I never stop thinking of him.” Dasha clasps her hands together (and Stiles sees how very much alike her grandma is to her father with such a small and simple hand gesture.)

Stiles nods, smile widening, expression softening. “Of course I’ll tell him... I mean, it will freak him out, but he’ll be happy to know you’re OK... well, more than OK, by the looks of things.”

Dasha chuckles, but she can see the dimness in her granddaughter’s eyes. “She is very proud of you.”

Stiles frowns, slightly confused.

Dasha smiles softly; fondly. “Claudia.”

Stiles’ eyes slowly widen, her heart slowly beginning to race. “You... Is she... like you?”

Dasha shakes her head. “No. For someone like me, our task is keep watch over our surrounding planes of existence. Your mother – she’s at peace, where she belongs after her struggles.”

Stiles gulps silently as she tries to collect her ever racing thoughts (racing all the more now.)

Dasha moves over to Stiles, joins their hands and loosely laces their fingers. “And I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but if you should happen to stumble across the same spell I used to use to communicate with my own dead mother...” She grins as she waves a hand and a single parchment of paper appears out of thin air and flutters slowly to the carpet. “Well, no one should be any the wiser, hm?”

Stiles’ wide eyes flicker down to the spell at her feet. “Really?” She asks with too much hope in her voice (which is totally dangerous, she knows, but this is her mother, for crying out loud!) “I can really talk to her?”

“Yes, but there’s a catch.” Dasha smiles sheepishly.

Stiles huffs, rolls her eyes. “Of course there is.”

“The spell is fashioned to summon a spirit to you. But you’re a spark, not a witch, so you should be able to customize it.” Dasha shoots her an expectant look.

Stiles scoffs. “And how the heck am I supposed to do that?”

“Be creative. Resourceful.” Dasha tells her, “I know you’re good at both of those things.”

“Resourceful, yes. But again, creativity is more Lydia’s thing.” Stiles grumbles.

Dasha smirks amusedly. “You can’t summon someone who has already crossed over, because they’re no longer a wondering spirit of your plane, they’re now tethered to their next existence. Which means, you’ll have to use whatever power you used to summon me, and instead, transport yourself to them.”