Haunted

“Too much credit?”

“Yes Derek, by all means, feel free to come into my home whenever you please – don’t mind the fact I just got out of the fucking shower and am standing here in nothing but a towel…” I muttered, not bothering to glance over my shoulder at him. I continued to rummage through my closet until I found the clothing I was looking for.

“Save it, Mia.”

“Can you at least turn around so I can put some clothes on?”

I looked over at him just in time to catch the roll of his eyes. “Are you kidding me right now?”

“No, Derek. I’m dead fucking serious. Turn around, that’s the least you could do since you’re in my damn bedroom while I’m trying to get ready for work at five in the morning.”

I didn’t back down from his cold stare. I knew this was a test of sorts, whether he realized it or not. I wasn’t going to let Derek have his way with me like Scott or Stiles. He couldn’t intimidate me, and I knew I could beat him in a fight. It wasn’t like I was even asking him to do something challenging or difficult – it was a simple request for a small amount of privacy.

“It’s not a big deal,” he countered, but turned anyways.

“Thank you,” I grumbled and quickly dropped the towel. “Now, why are you here, exactly?”

“You don’t think I killed anyone.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You think the police are giving me too much credit?”

I could hear a hint of amusement in his voice and I couldn’t help but grin a bit myself. “Yeah, I do. I think if you were going to start killing people, you would have done it a long time ago. Why wait six years?”

I finished buttoning my tactical pants and slipped on my black longsleeve UnderArmour shirt, plopping down to the floor in order to pull on my combat boots.

“Why not?”

“I know about the Alpha, Derek. You keep forgetting that.”

“So you’re trying to throw the rest of the department off my case, onto something where you don’t even have a lead.”

“Not necessarily. I have an idea, but I need more time to figure it out and piece things together.”

“Who?”

I sprung to my feet and crossed the room, standing a few feet behind Derek. I snatched up my G-Shock watch from the table and took my time strapping it onto my right wrist. I leaned back against the wood and crossed my arms, taking a moment to really look at Derek.

His stance was rigid and, like me, his arms were crossed over his chest. His t-shirt clung to the muscles of his chest and his thick biceps, but hung loosely around his middle like his dark jeans from his hips. His jaw was clenched and shoulders rigid. Everything about his stance screamed impatient.

“Someone else in your family, maybe,” I murmured, averting my eyes when he spun around.

“Someone else? The only person in my family alive is Peter, and he’s – “

“I know, Derek. Believe me, I know. I’ve spent hours trying to work through this – but I know it’s not you. Why would anyone outside your family go after people who have arson on their record or were directly involved with the case, somehow?” I asked. I met his dark gaze then, watching as the gears in his mind began to turn. It showed in his once angry and disbelieving eyes – they had shifted to calculative, confused, inquisitive – and took a couple steps towards him. “We’ll figure it out, Derek.”

Just like that, he snapped back.

“I don’t need your help,” he growled and pushed past me rather forcefully to the open window. Without another look, he was out of my room and on the roof.

“Of course not,” I muttered. “Because I’m totally doing this just for you – not because I’m a fucking cop and it’s my job.”

Though Derek was already on the lawn stalking away, I knew he heard me. It was confirmed when he let out another low growl.

Fucking drama queen.