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laniew1Summary: Stiles goes to college and accidentally gets hired by SHIELD.
TITLE: Stiles Stilinski: Agent of SHIELD
RATING: PG-13 (for now)
PAIRING: Gen – but Stiles/Clint (eventually)
AUTHOR: Melanie
Summary: Stiles goes to college and accidentally gets hired by SHIELD.
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing Marvel, MTV, etc own everything but the idea to mesh them..
FEEDBACK: Please?
Stiles Stilinski, Agent of Shield 5/?
It seems like Derek brought the whole pack, with the possible exception of Allison with him.
Scott stands at one shoulder, Peter at the other, the rest of the pack fanned out behind them.
Stiles sighs and steps forward only to be stopped by a hand on his shoulder. It hurts a little and a glance behind him shows that it’s Steve holding him back and when he looks forward again Clint has moved forward next to Natasha.
“Are you guys guarding me?” he asks almost flabbergasted.
“The middle one doesn’t look exactly stable,” Tony says, “Humor us.”
“Derek and me, we’ve come a long way from him pushing me up against walls and smacking my head into a steering wheel,” Stiles says. He realizes that it was probably the wrong thing to say when Clint twitches and Steve’s grip loosens only to be replaced by Tony’s arm.
“That’s not what it sounded like,” Stiles says.
“Abuse is still abuse,” Tony mutters.
“I was a mouthy kid.” He doesn’t elaborate, and he appreciates the support and the knowing that if he’d known them back then that they might have interfered on his behalf.
But he also remembers himself back then, so they might have been lining up right behind Derek.
“I was a mouthy kid once too,” Steve says. “It still doesn’t make it right.”
They watch as Coulson walks forward. He looks calm and collected and Derek hasn’t got his angry eyes on, yet, so they might be okay.
“Mr. Hale, thank you for coming,” Coulson says, like Derek was an invited guest instead of an interloper once Darren called and spilled Stiles’ beans without a by-your-leave. He doesn’t hold out his hand and Derek doesn’t offer his, Scott’s eyes dart between Derek and where Tony has still got an arm slung over Stiles’ shoulders.
He looks hurt and kind of sad and it makes Stiles want to go over and drag him into a great big bear hug, he doesn’t think he could lift him off the ground like he could when Scott got those eyes and Stiles attacked him with hugs.
Scott has muscle and bulk, and Stiles isn’t very far removed from the scrawny-ish kid he’d been before he left for college.
“I think you have something that is mine,” Derek says, his voice is low but loud enough that it carries and Stiles bristles, shrugging Tony’s arm off and stalking forward.
“Fuck you, dude,” he says. “We had this talk, way back when, but apparently you have the brain span of a fucking gnat,” he jabs a finger into Derek’s chest, it’s hard with muscle and chances are that Derek doesn’t even feel it though it makes him feel loads better. He ignores the raised eyebrows that he’s getting from Coulson and surprisingly enough Peter.
“Pack doesn’t constitute property,” he snaps. “I. Am. My. Own. Person,” jabs for each word and Derek grabs his hand, squeezing once before he releases it.
Stiles ignores everyone behind him and doesn’t look at anyone besides Derek.
“You’re pack,” Derek says slowly, he’s got his ‘talking to an idiot’ voice on that he used to adopt when talking to Scott.
“Pack is family, not belongings,” Stiles crosses his arms over his chest, it probably looks pretty impressive from a distance. Stiles standing there in his borrowed SHIELD uniform with the Avengers spanned out behind him, glaring at Derek.
Derek narrows his eyes and Stiles makes his glare harder, it’s times like he wished he was a mutant or one of the superhero brigade, the ability to shoot lasers out of his eyes would come in handy when trying to make a point to a werewolf that is otherwise invincible.
Maybe if he asks nicely Tony will build one for him, or put his Iron Man suit back on and do it for him. He doesn’t know him well enough to ask favors though, and he’s pretty sure that once this is over and they either have Ramirez or don’t that he won’t ever see any of them again.
“All right then,” Coulson says. “Now that the definition of pack versus property is taken care of how about we get down to business.”
Derek looks at Stiles, his eyes say this conversation is not in any way over with. Stiles nods once to show his understanding and Derek nods once to show that he’s not okay with putting this off to later but will do so just so that maybe they won’t have an audience.
“What do you need us to do?”
******************************************************************************
It all boils down to the simple fact that Stiles doesn’t trust Darren. There’s just something that twigs that nerve in the back of his neck that makes him jumpy and paranoid.
He spent the latter half of his teen-age years keeping the werewolf secret and to have a werewolf just waltz in and out his entire pack to SHIELD? It just seems off and wrong and he had to know what he was doing.
It’s not like Captain America could have been anybody but Captain America especially with the shield; all of the Avenger s have been in the papers and magazines from People (spotlight on America’s Heroes) to Glamour (10 ways to determine if you are [enter superhero name of choice]’s perfect match).
“It’s not that I don’t trust him,” he says finally, the room as a whole turns to look at him. He can see Tony and Steve exchanging looks.
“You just got through telling us that you don’t trust him,” Steve says, he says in a sensible voice that Stiles has heard his dad pull out at times.
“It’s just,” Stiles waves a hand and almost smacks Clint upside the head, Clint shoots him a look, then moves six inches to the left and continues doing whatever it is that he’s doing to his arrows. Allison would know, but apparently Darren wouldn’t okay an Argent coming onto his packlands regardless of that fact that she’s part of Derek’s pack.
She’s keeping an eye on Beacon Hills with her dad.
“There’s this spot, in the base of my neck that twinges when something fishy is going on,” Stiles says. Coulson looks at him and Stiles flushes. “It does, it helped us avert two pack-wars and a gnome infestation.”
“A twinge?” Tony asks at the same time that Natasha asks, “gnomes?”
Stiles concentrates on the gnomes first because the twinge-thing always makes people (read Derek) look at him like he’s a crazy person.
“Yeah, you know those little gnomes that people put in their gardens?” Natasha twitches.
“They’re creepy,” she says.
“Those little things are sentient?” Steve asks, there’s a tone of disbelief in his voice.
“Not all of them, but old Mrs. Anderson had like three in her garden and they apparently breed like rabbits and don’t believe in monogamy, because all of a sudden she had like 180 of them and they were declaring Beacon Hills theirs.”
“Pull the other leg,” Clint says, he doesn’t look up from what he’s doing. “Just cause werewolves are real, doesn’t mean that all the other stuff is too.”
A knock at the door saves Stiles from having to defend his knowledge of the supernatural which is based on actual shit he lived through to a guy that shoots explosive arrows for a living. He wishes he didn’t know half the shit he knows.
Lydia is standing there when Steve opens the door; Natasha has a gun that she has pulled from somewhere in hand and she keeps it out even though it’s just Lydia.
“Am I interrupting?” she asks, she sounds different, older and kind of subdued. Stiles would stand and hug her, she looks like she needs a hug but he knows from personal experience that she would also punch him in the stomach if he so much as tried.
“Stiles was telling us about garden gnomes,” Tony says, he’s got a chair turned around backwards, arms braced on the back.
“I would have told them about the pixies that enchanted Danny or the mountain troll but whatever,” Lydia says as she walks in, Steve closes the door behind her.
“We were talking about the twinge in my neck,” Stiles says, he rolls his eyes. The pixies only enchanted Danny because he wandered into their grotto, they’d had to grind up four sunflowers into dust and blow it in his face. No one even wolfed out with the exception of Jackson so he sometimes doesn’t even count it.
And he definitely doesn’t count the mountain troll because none of the humans even got to see it; they’re human and therefore delicate and easily breakable, so they had to stay cooped up in Derek’s at time when it was still mostly a rundown shack of a home.
Stiles has a firm ‘if I don’t see it, if you didn’t manage to get pictures or video of it, then I don’t believe you really fought it’ policy for a lot of the stuff the pack says they fight and uses as reasons as to why the humans need to be sequestered in a house that might fall down around their ears.
“Oh,” Lydia shrugs at him.
“We’ll do some x-rays and tests when we get home,” Tony says.
“Standard tests, no special tests,” Coulson interjects; Tony makes a face and Stiles blinks at the fact that it needs to be stated.
“Stiles has a home,” Lydia says sharply, she’s glaring at Tony and he’s looking at her like she’s a new puppy for him to play with. Stiles thinks that he should nip that right in the bud, because that’s dangerous times for all of them and the room is only so big.
“Of course he does, it’s called his room on the Helicarrier,” Tony says.
“Hold on,” Stiles holds his hands up. “Should we just get down to the pissing on me part of the conversation? Because I thought, crazily enough, that I’d have to worry about that more with the wolves than the humans.”
******************************************************************************
Derek finds Ramirez’s scent, Stiles had faith he would.
Of course he’s also long gone, or least still moving at a crisp pace away from them.
“I can give you a general idea on the direction he seems to be maintaining,” Danny says, he has his laptop open and he punches a few buttons to show a general trajectory.
“All right,” Steve stands, claps his hands once. “Tony if you suit up, we’ll get moving and try to round him up before he gets much further.”
Stiles looks over at Coulson and he jerks his head once, Stiles takes that as the permission that he’s sure that it means to hold and leaves the room.
******************************************************************************
The little bed and breakfast that they’re staying in has a back porch with a swing, Stiles sits on one side and pushes himself with his feet. He wishes he had a change of clothes; the uniform that had been mildly uncomfortable when he first put it on, then forgot all about for the most part while everything was going is now equal parts sticky and clammy at the 24 hour mark.
He doesn’t know how superheroes do it. Wearing the same uniform for days on end while they battle villains and evil doers alike. Maybe they’re allowed to make pit stops to change into new fresh attire?
“You’re not coming home, are you?” the voice is Derek’s but the question is not one of the ones that he expected to hear.
“I like my job,” Stiles says. It’s probably the first time he’s said those words out loud.
He likes what he does. He likes knowing that somewhere, something that he had a part of is changing or helping someone.
Derek is silent as he comes around the corner; he sits on the other side of the swing and uses his feet to stop the motion of it.
“You should have told us from the beginning,” Derek says, he’s clenching his hands into fists when Stiles looks over at him.
“You wouldn’t have let me do it, you wouldn’t have let me stay. You would have sent someone, probably Lydia, maybe Scott to drag me back home and…” Stiles says, he knows Derek. He knows that the minute Derek knew about SHIELD’s offer that he would have removed Stiles from the sphere of influence.
“As you keep telling me, you are pack not property,” Stiles smiles a little. “And Darren is not wrong,” he narrows his eyes at that and Derek looks out into the woods. “Having you at SHIELD could be helpful in the long run.”
“So you’re going to let me keep my job, because it’s a good strategic decision.”
“No, you are going to keep your job because if I tell you to quit your job you’ll yell again, and because it’s obvious that you like it, and you must be good at it because…” he waves a hand at the building where the Avengers are most likely still strategizing since he hasn’t heard any of them leave.
“I know,” Stiles says. When they’d been watching the news broadcast on the alien invasion in New York City and the Avengers made their grand appearance Derek had been right there. Wide eyes and watching just like him.
“So no pissing contest?” Stiles asks. Derek growls a little and Stiles bites his lip.
“You’re already ours; we’re just letting them borrow you for a little while.”
******************************************************************************
Derek goes inside, probably to instigate pack cuddle time or something; he’d probably get mauled if he actually called it that, which is why he only calls it that in the privacy of his own head.
“You can come down now,” he says after a minute, he’s gratified when Clint comes swinging out of a tree, not the one that Stiles had thought he’d be in though. He had his bow in hand, no arrow out so he must not have seen anything that he’d labeled as a threat.
“You said that he used to push you into walls,” Clint says, it’s unapologetic. Just an explanation since Stiles must look like he needs one.
“And I told you guys that we got past that,” Stiles says. He hopes that they’re not going to harp on that, he in no way signed up to be the poster child for Alpha abuse. He was just trying to explain, very badly apparently, the complicated nature of his friendship with Derek.
Clint just looks at him, Stiles sighs and goes back inside.
******************************************************************************
TITLE: Stiles Stilinski: Agent of SHIELD
RATING: PG-13 (for now)
PAIRING: Gen – but Stiles/Clint (eventually)
AUTHOR: Melanie
Summary: Stiles goes to college and accidentally gets hired by SHIELD.
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing Marvel, MTV, etc own everything but the idea to mesh them..
FEEDBACK: Please?
Stiles Stilinski, Agent of Shield 5/?
It seems like Derek brought the whole pack, with the possible exception of Allison with him.
Scott stands at one shoulder, Peter at the other, the rest of the pack fanned out behind them.
Stiles sighs and steps forward only to be stopped by a hand on his shoulder. It hurts a little and a glance behind him shows that it’s Steve holding him back and when he looks forward again Clint has moved forward next to Natasha.
“Are you guys guarding me?” he asks almost flabbergasted.
“The middle one doesn’t look exactly stable,” Tony says, “Humor us.”
“Derek and me, we’ve come a long way from him pushing me up against walls and smacking my head into a steering wheel,” Stiles says. He realizes that it was probably the wrong thing to say when Clint twitches and Steve’s grip loosens only to be replaced by Tony’s arm.
“That’s not what it sounded like,” Stiles says.
“Abuse is still abuse,” Tony mutters.
“I was a mouthy kid.” He doesn’t elaborate, and he appreciates the support and the knowing that if he’d known them back then that they might have interfered on his behalf.
But he also remembers himself back then, so they might have been lining up right behind Derek.
“I was a mouthy kid once too,” Steve says. “It still doesn’t make it right.”
They watch as Coulson walks forward. He looks calm and collected and Derek hasn’t got his angry eyes on, yet, so they might be okay.
“Mr. Hale, thank you for coming,” Coulson says, like Derek was an invited guest instead of an interloper once Darren called and spilled Stiles’ beans without a by-your-leave. He doesn’t hold out his hand and Derek doesn’t offer his, Scott’s eyes dart between Derek and where Tony has still got an arm slung over Stiles’ shoulders.
He looks hurt and kind of sad and it makes Stiles want to go over and drag him into a great big bear hug, he doesn’t think he could lift him off the ground like he could when Scott got those eyes and Stiles attacked him with hugs.
Scott has muscle and bulk, and Stiles isn’t very far removed from the scrawny-ish kid he’d been before he left for college.
“I think you have something that is mine,” Derek says, his voice is low but loud enough that it carries and Stiles bristles, shrugging Tony’s arm off and stalking forward.
“Fuck you, dude,” he says. “We had this talk, way back when, but apparently you have the brain span of a fucking gnat,” he jabs a finger into Derek’s chest, it’s hard with muscle and chances are that Derek doesn’t even feel it though it makes him feel loads better. He ignores the raised eyebrows that he’s getting from Coulson and surprisingly enough Peter.
“Pack doesn’t constitute property,” he snaps. “I. Am. My. Own. Person,” jabs for each word and Derek grabs his hand, squeezing once before he releases it.
Stiles ignores everyone behind him and doesn’t look at anyone besides Derek.
“You’re pack,” Derek says slowly, he’s got his ‘talking to an idiot’ voice on that he used to adopt when talking to Scott.
“Pack is family, not belongings,” Stiles crosses his arms over his chest, it probably looks pretty impressive from a distance. Stiles standing there in his borrowed SHIELD uniform with the Avengers spanned out behind him, glaring at Derek.
Derek narrows his eyes and Stiles makes his glare harder, it’s times like he wished he was a mutant or one of the superhero brigade, the ability to shoot lasers out of his eyes would come in handy when trying to make a point to a werewolf that is otherwise invincible.
Maybe if he asks nicely Tony will build one for him, or put his Iron Man suit back on and do it for him. He doesn’t know him well enough to ask favors though, and he’s pretty sure that once this is over and they either have Ramirez or don’t that he won’t ever see any of them again.
“All right then,” Coulson says. “Now that the definition of pack versus property is taken care of how about we get down to business.”
Derek looks at Stiles, his eyes say this conversation is not in any way over with. Stiles nods once to show his understanding and Derek nods once to show that he’s not okay with putting this off to later but will do so just so that maybe they won’t have an audience.
“What do you need us to do?”
It all boils down to the simple fact that Stiles doesn’t trust Darren. There’s just something that twigs that nerve in the back of his neck that makes him jumpy and paranoid.
He spent the latter half of his teen-age years keeping the werewolf secret and to have a werewolf just waltz in and out his entire pack to SHIELD? It just seems off and wrong and he had to know what he was doing.
It’s not like Captain America could have been anybody but Captain America especially with the shield; all of the Avenger s have been in the papers and magazines from People (spotlight on America’s Heroes) to Glamour (10 ways to determine if you are [enter superhero name of choice]’s perfect match).
“It’s not that I don’t trust him,” he says finally, the room as a whole turns to look at him. He can see Tony and Steve exchanging looks.
“You just got through telling us that you don’t trust him,” Steve says, he says in a sensible voice that Stiles has heard his dad pull out at times.
“It’s just,” Stiles waves a hand and almost smacks Clint upside the head, Clint shoots him a look, then moves six inches to the left and continues doing whatever it is that he’s doing to his arrows. Allison would know, but apparently Darren wouldn’t okay an Argent coming onto his packlands regardless of that fact that she’s part of Derek’s pack.
She’s keeping an eye on Beacon Hills with her dad.
“There’s this spot, in the base of my neck that twinges when something fishy is going on,” Stiles says. Coulson looks at him and Stiles flushes. “It does, it helped us avert two pack-wars and a gnome infestation.”
“A twinge?” Tony asks at the same time that Natasha asks, “gnomes?”
Stiles concentrates on the gnomes first because the twinge-thing always makes people (read Derek) look at him like he’s a crazy person.
“Yeah, you know those little gnomes that people put in their gardens?” Natasha twitches.
“They’re creepy,” she says.
“Those little things are sentient?” Steve asks, there’s a tone of disbelief in his voice.
“Not all of them, but old Mrs. Anderson had like three in her garden and they apparently breed like rabbits and don’t believe in monogamy, because all of a sudden she had like 180 of them and they were declaring Beacon Hills theirs.”
“Pull the other leg,” Clint says, he doesn’t look up from what he’s doing. “Just cause werewolves are real, doesn’t mean that all the other stuff is too.”
A knock at the door saves Stiles from having to defend his knowledge of the supernatural which is based on actual shit he lived through to a guy that shoots explosive arrows for a living. He wishes he didn’t know half the shit he knows.
Lydia is standing there when Steve opens the door; Natasha has a gun that she has pulled from somewhere in hand and she keeps it out even though it’s just Lydia.
“Am I interrupting?” she asks, she sounds different, older and kind of subdued. Stiles would stand and hug her, she looks like she needs a hug but he knows from personal experience that she would also punch him in the stomach if he so much as tried.
“Stiles was telling us about garden gnomes,” Tony says, he’s got a chair turned around backwards, arms braced on the back.
“I would have told them about the pixies that enchanted Danny or the mountain troll but whatever,” Lydia says as she walks in, Steve closes the door behind her.
“We were talking about the twinge in my neck,” Stiles says, he rolls his eyes. The pixies only enchanted Danny because he wandered into their grotto, they’d had to grind up four sunflowers into dust and blow it in his face. No one even wolfed out with the exception of Jackson so he sometimes doesn’t even count it.
And he definitely doesn’t count the mountain troll because none of the humans even got to see it; they’re human and therefore delicate and easily breakable, so they had to stay cooped up in Derek’s at time when it was still mostly a rundown shack of a home.
Stiles has a firm ‘if I don’t see it, if you didn’t manage to get pictures or video of it, then I don’t believe you really fought it’ policy for a lot of the stuff the pack says they fight and uses as reasons as to why the humans need to be sequestered in a house that might fall down around their ears.
“Oh,” Lydia shrugs at him.
“We’ll do some x-rays and tests when we get home,” Tony says.
“Standard tests, no special tests,” Coulson interjects; Tony makes a face and Stiles blinks at the fact that it needs to be stated.
“Stiles has a home,” Lydia says sharply, she’s glaring at Tony and he’s looking at her like she’s a new puppy for him to play with. Stiles thinks that he should nip that right in the bud, because that’s dangerous times for all of them and the room is only so big.
“Of course he does, it’s called his room on the Helicarrier,” Tony says.
“Hold on,” Stiles holds his hands up. “Should we just get down to the pissing on me part of the conversation? Because I thought, crazily enough, that I’d have to worry about that more with the wolves than the humans.”
Derek finds Ramirez’s scent, Stiles had faith he would.
Of course he’s also long gone, or least still moving at a crisp pace away from them.
“I can give you a general idea on the direction he seems to be maintaining,” Danny says, he has his laptop open and he punches a few buttons to show a general trajectory.
“All right,” Steve stands, claps his hands once. “Tony if you suit up, we’ll get moving and try to round him up before he gets much further.”
Stiles looks over at Coulson and he jerks his head once, Stiles takes that as the permission that he’s sure that it means to hold and leaves the room.
The little bed and breakfast that they’re staying in has a back porch with a swing, Stiles sits on one side and pushes himself with his feet. He wishes he had a change of clothes; the uniform that had been mildly uncomfortable when he first put it on, then forgot all about for the most part while everything was going is now equal parts sticky and clammy at the 24 hour mark.
He doesn’t know how superheroes do it. Wearing the same uniform for days on end while they battle villains and evil doers alike. Maybe they’re allowed to make pit stops to change into new fresh attire?
“You’re not coming home, are you?” the voice is Derek’s but the question is not one of the ones that he expected to hear.
“I like my job,” Stiles says. It’s probably the first time he’s said those words out loud.
He likes what he does. He likes knowing that somewhere, something that he had a part of is changing or helping someone.
Derek is silent as he comes around the corner; he sits on the other side of the swing and uses his feet to stop the motion of it.
“You should have told us from the beginning,” Derek says, he’s clenching his hands into fists when Stiles looks over at him.
“You wouldn’t have let me do it, you wouldn’t have let me stay. You would have sent someone, probably Lydia, maybe Scott to drag me back home and…” Stiles says, he knows Derek. He knows that the minute Derek knew about SHIELD’s offer that he would have removed Stiles from the sphere of influence.
“As you keep telling me, you are pack not property,” Stiles smiles a little. “And Darren is not wrong,” he narrows his eyes at that and Derek looks out into the woods. “Having you at SHIELD could be helpful in the long run.”
“So you’re going to let me keep my job, because it’s a good strategic decision.”
“No, you are going to keep your job because if I tell you to quit your job you’ll yell again, and because it’s obvious that you like it, and you must be good at it because…” he waves a hand at the building where the Avengers are most likely still strategizing since he hasn’t heard any of them leave.
“I know,” Stiles says. When they’d been watching the news broadcast on the alien invasion in New York City and the Avengers made their grand appearance Derek had been right there. Wide eyes and watching just like him.
“So no pissing contest?” Stiles asks. Derek growls a little and Stiles bites his lip.
“You’re already ours; we’re just letting them borrow you for a little while.”
Derek goes inside, probably to instigate pack cuddle time or something; he’d probably get mauled if he actually called it that, which is why he only calls it that in the privacy of his own head.
“You can come down now,” he says after a minute, he’s gratified when Clint comes swinging out of a tree, not the one that Stiles had thought he’d be in though. He had his bow in hand, no arrow out so he must not have seen anything that he’d labeled as a threat.
“You said that he used to push you into walls,” Clint says, it’s unapologetic. Just an explanation since Stiles must look like he needs one.
“And I told you guys that we got past that,” Stiles says. He hopes that they’re not going to harp on that, he in no way signed up to be the poster child for Alpha abuse. He was just trying to explain, very badly apparently, the complicated nature of his friendship with Derek.
Clint just looks at him, Stiles sighs and goes back inside.