Chapter 5

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Before Thor left, he asked Stiles and Derek for their cell phone number. He admitted that he did have a phone but never used it. Most of the time, he would borrow phones off others to communicate. Stiles happily handed the numbers over.

Halfway into his hours in the labs at the PTSD Research Center at Columbia, he gets a text from an unknown number. Being who he is, he gets a lot of calls and texts from numbers he doesn't know, which makes screening calls from telemarketers and scammers a bitch, but he's never gotten a text name-dropping a god before.

Yo, got your digits from Thor. It's Darcy. We're having a shit ton of meat, roast veggies, and carbs for days for dinner tonight. He said you'd bring something. Maybe dessert? We could probably use something sweet if we're not all giving birth to our food babies after eating.

Stiles immediately takes a screencap and sends it to Derek, who is at the park right next to the research center. The reply takes a moment. Derek types something, deletes it, types something else, and deletes that. Finally, he comes back with one word:

No.

He frowns. Does Derek not want to do dinner anymore? Before he can fire off a response, Derek sends him another text.

There are not two of you in this world.

Stiles just barely contains his snickers, considering he's in a quiet room surrounded by groups of people he highly respects. He allows himself one small victory arm wiggle before flipping back to the text conversation with Darcy. After adding her to his contacts, he sends back a reply.

So done. How much should I make on a scale of bring on the stretchy pants to I have made all the wrong choices in life?

Darcy's reply comes back immediately and Stiles has to bite his lip to hold back the laughter. She sent back a GIF of Leslie Knope from Parks and Recreation saying, Everything hurts and I'm dying.

Even though he really needs to get back to work, especially if he wants to leave a little early to run by a grocery store to pick up the ingredients for dessert, he can't not reply. Especially when he has the perfect image to send back. So he searches his phone for the picture of the Overly Attached Girlfriend meme that has the caption, We're going to be best friends, for ever and ever and ever and hits send.

One of the professors that Stiles is working closely with walks in the room, and Stiles immediately shoves his phone back into his pocket. He doesn't know what Darcy's response is, but his phone vibrates like crazy. He can't keep the grin off his face. His conversation with Thor and his texts with Darcy have been a bright spot in a dark period. Leaving Ithaca was hard, but even if he doesn't work with Barnes, making friends with Thor and Darcy makes up for it.

The rest of his time in the PTSD Research Center passes quickly. He really enjoys the work and learning more from some of the most respected names in PTSD research and theory. After working with his last client, he promises to be back the following Tuesday, since he has to turn in assignments to another professor anyway, then heads out with a spring in his step. Derek's waiting for him at the entrance like usual, and rolls his eyes at the overjoyed expression on Stiles' face.

Once in the grocery store, he decides to make something simple. The dessert shouldn't be too rich or sweet, because they don't need something heavy after the huge meal. He may hate New York City on principle, but they have so many food options that he goes slightly overboard with his dessert choices.

Stone Fruit Eton Mess is super quick, but he doesn't know if everyone would like the plums and nectarines. So he decides to also do chocolate-hazelnut-banana finger sandwiches. But then he knows that some people don't like nutella, so he decides to also add a third option. Vanilla ice cream and bourbon caramel sounds good, and he grabs some pineapples to broil and add at the last minute. The desserts are fruit-heavy, but he wanted something light and he's hardwired his brain to always cook healthy anyway. As much as his bourbon caramel can be healthy, which isn't a lot. Eh, it's the thought that counts.

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