Don't Take Yourself So Seriously

Kinsey tucked her skirt in as she slid into the booth. After dropping Megatron off, Derek drove both of them into the city to a rundown diner in an empty part of town. A fugitive couldn't be in a crowd was the excuse they gave to be alone.

Rundown could be a bit of an overstatement. The diner was in fairly good condition, but it had been opened so long ago that it accumulated a couple battle scars. The lights were never working properly. A lamp in the corner kept flickering on and off. The tables were scratched up with engravings from past eaters. "R.T.L." had been at Kinsey's booth before. The kitchen had been remodeled a couple years before, so at least the food was decent. Although, a smoky smell came too strongly from that back room.

The place was empty except for a waitress, Derek, and Kinsey. From across the room, slumped over the back of a chair, the waitress smiled at the two. She had to be in her 80s, if not older. The weathered look on her face stayed positive; though, the big crack of her back as she stood up sounded discouraging.

Cordelia, as said her oversized nametag, with a slight stumble in her step, made her way over to the table and handed out menus. "What can I get you two to drink?" she said, wrinkles forming on her forehead and cheeks. Her voice was a bit lower than Kinsey expected.

"Orange juice," Kinsey replied, smiling back. As Derek began to order water, Kinsey cut him off. "He'll take a blue moon." The waitress walked away, slowly as possible. Derek looked at Kinsey confused. "Mmm, she didn't even card you."

Derek raised both eyebrows. Kinsey shook her head. “I did not just order that for the pun. Scout's honor.”

Derek looked down at his menu. Kinsey kept staring at him, a smile at her lips. It had been awkward at first, and hard to get him to talk. Kinsey could feel, though, that by the end of the night, Derek would be much more calm with her.

“You should keep the beard,” Kinsey said suddenly, watching Derek go over the food options.

"Alright, Little Red."

Kinsey smiled at the nickname. Nickname. Nickname. OH GOD, that's like best friendship blossoming. I should work with people. I'm going to become a counselor.

The waitress rounded the corner with drinks in hand. She placed them down to each person, and Kinsey started drinking away. "Can I get you some food?" Cordelia asked.

"I'll have a hamburger with fries," Derek said. Kinsey was about to order, but Derek cut her off. "Kinsey will have the same." He grabbed his drink, sipping it as he eyed down Kinsey. The waitress walked away, hiding a big smile from them with the menus she took.

"Call me King," she told him, playing with the straw between her lips. She noticed Derek watching. She flicked it away with her tongue and sat up straight. Derek looked back down to the table. Kinsey slipped her hand around his drink and drug it back to her. "Talents?" she questioned, taking a sip of his drink.

"I'm really strong," he replied flatly.

"Not your wolf abilities," Kinsey whined. "Give me something else. Something small."

Derek concentrated as he took his drink back. “I'm good with my hands.”

“Jesus, Derek. You're with a lady; don't be so crude.” Derek glared, and Kinsey snorted. “Go on. What were you saying?”

“I'm good at building things,” he overemphasized. “I built the front porch of my house with my dad.”

Kinsey suddenly regret digging her claws into it and splitting the wood. It was probably something he'd been so proud of. She cleared her throat. “Impressive. Let me show you mine.” Kinsey tucked her hair back and held it up with one hand. She began to wiggle her ears, starting from the top and going to the bottom.

Derek stuck his bottom lip out in approval, looking back down at his drink. Kinsey brushed her hair out a bit to make sure everything was back in place. She gave a big cheesy smile, too.

Seeing as there weren't any other customers, the waitress came back fairly quickly with the food. She placed it gently down in front of both of them, leading up to a few sentences of small talk. A twinkle in her eye made Kinsey cringe. Don't make one of those awkward old lady comments. Don't. Don't do it.

"I remember when I worked here as a kid. You know, my husband and I met here 65 years ago," she said, stretching out the number 65. "I was only 14 years old when he came in here. After a while, we started giving each other the same look you two are giving each other now." Her smile showed more wrinkles that had formed on her face. She looked around at the empty booths, deep in thought. "Oh boy, this little restaurant use to be a lot more popular. Enjoy the food."

I hate old people. Kinsey turned back to Derek, who looked rattled as he stared at the waitress walking away. He brushed down some of his hair in the back, to keep his hands busy. Kinsey put her hands on the table in front of him, causing him to look back at her. "Do you have an arrhythmia? 'Cause your heart is beating irregularly fast," Kinsey said, a smooth edge to her voice.

"If I wasn't already out with you, I'd say that's a pickup line," Derek said, the same sultry tone to his voice.

“Oh, so you're 'out' with me now.”

Derek just rolled his eyes, rusty on the whole flirting ordeal. Kinsey didn't mind much, willing to fill in the gaps. It was more than just glares and smart remarks. Derek Hale was a person.

Kinsey played with her straw between her fingers, looking into Derek's eyes. “I had this awful date before. I was 5, and he wanted to meet underneath the slide. He got me to kiss him, but a week later, I saw him kiss another girl under the slide. He didn't even have the decency to get a new make-out spot. What a player.”

The light that had been flickering finally gave out.

“I was a really annoying little kid,” Derek said, taking some of his fries.

“Not more annoying than me.”

“Remember those scooters? The small trick ones? I use to ride down the streets on that thing, and whenever I saw some kids from school, I'd jump and spin the scooter. I landed perfectly every time. I thought I was so cool.” His voice got lower as he got more and more comfortable.

“I bet I can top your annoyingness,” Kinsey bragged. “I can be a little competitive,” she explained when Derek gave her a look. “That's actually what the story's about. I was really into puzzles when I was a kid. It was way back when we lived in the ghetto. Detroit,” she clarified. “I'd hold competitions with Scott, where we'd invite the whole family. This one time, I beat his time record so bad he wouldn't talk to me for a month.”

“He seems to be just as whiny,” Derek said.

“He'll grow on you. He's adorable.”

Derek bit into his food, and Kinsey followed suit. The old diner definitely knew how to cook some good grub. The cooks in the back had all day to screw around and learn new stuff since customers rarely came in. It was a mystery as to how the old spot stayed opened. It was an unloved gem. Kinsey felt very attached to the place.

A door to the kitchen opened up. It was the only noise around, so naturally Derek and Kinsey looked up to see a curly-haired teenage boy walking in, hauling a ladder. He had a little apron on, Kinsey saw, as he set up his ladder and opened up the panel to the broken lamp.

Kinsey coughed. The curly-haired guy, the annoying one from school, looked down. The pure horror that came to his face did not match the trembling in his hands. He dropped the burnt out light bulb and jumped off the ladder, running into the kitchen.

Derek gave Kinsey a bewildered look as she returned to her food. “I got moves with the gentlemen. They can't resist.” Derek somehow took that as an explanation.

“You know what kick starts a friendship faster than anything else? Mutual hate.” Kinsey was dead set on making Derek part of her gang at this point. He had so much more to offer than she had presumed. It was time to take this guy for all he was worth.

“Well, you hated me at first.”

“What?!” King put down her food. “I didn't hate you exactly, but you for sure thought I was useless.” Derek tried to deny it at first, but eventually had to nod his head. “OK, what do you hate?”

“I hate a lot of things.” We can both agree on hunters . . .

“Ooh, cynical approach. Nice. I hate people who can't take a joke.” She was about to explain further, but Derek finished her thought for her.

“The overly sensitive people?”

“Exactly!” Kinsey leaned closer to Derek.

Derek wiped his mouth, then took a sip of his drink. Kinsey eyed down the alcohol, licking her lips. Taking notice, Derek pulled the mug far away from her. “I hate picky eaters.”

Kinsey clapped her hands together. “Me too! Like, I know you can't control your taste buds, but someone just spent time making this for you.”

“You could at least try it.”

Kinsey found herself wanting to howl out “Exactly” again, but stopped. She started thinking her level of joy would start exploding, with Derek of all people. “I have to say it. You are so much more fun than I'd thought you'd be. Actually getting to know you revealed a …. I don't even know how to put it. You're amazing.”

Then, it happened. Derek, stone-faced, scowling, pissy guy he was, smiled. A genuine, appreciative smile. A smile that said he was happy and was enjoying what Kinsey was saying.

HOLY SHIT! Derek Hale is smiling. Derek, master of looking pissed off constantly, has a smile on his face. HE HAS TEETH. They're not blood-sucking fangs! Don't overreact, Kinsey, or he'll stop smiling! She pretended that it wasn't the best part of her entire week.

The waitress waddled back over to their table, where Kinsey was just staring ahead in awe with her mouth open. She laid a check down in between them, walking over to the counter to pour herself a drink. Kinsey instinctively grabbed for it, but Derek put a hand on hers. She felt a fluttering in her gut.

“Let me pay.” Kinsey objected, saying she was the one who brought him. “I'm paying,” Derek said.

Dinner was done. It was a success. Kinsey would sleep happily tonight, dreaming of rainbows and unicorns and everything shiny or happy.