[It had been three days since moving in, and the novelty of just about everything had yet to wear off. Unpacking had been an incredibly underwhelming task, which was to be expected considering their situation, and so while they settled -- completely with putting the office in order and covering an entire wall with photos, newspaper clippings and other information relevant to their current investigation -- Anita found that a number of trips to various department stores had been necessary to straighten out all of the minor household items they had managed to miss.
Really, it had been four years since she'd stayed anywhere for more than a couple of weeks at a time, and Dean had been in and out of motel rooms since he was a kid. They had been bound to miss a few things. A few, however, turned out to be a rather dizzying amount, and anyone who might have been paying attention would have seen Anita's newly-obtained Jeep pulling in and out of the driveway at all hours whenever a new necessity popped up unexpectedly.
By day three, she was almost positive that she had everything covered, which meant that she had time to return to enjoying the sheer novelty of having a full house at their disposal before getting down to brass tacks. Early afternoon found her in the backyard -- they had a yard -- kneeling beside what looked like prime gardening space set aside by the previous owners, however long ago that might have been. She managed to go through the motions of planting three whole tomato plants before setting her trowel down and removing her gloves, sitting back on her heels.
Okay. This part of domesticity wasn't as exciting as she'd hoped. The high was wearing off, at least concerning gardening. Clearly, that wasn't hobby she was going to be taking up anytime soon. Seriously, it was all kinds of unnecessary work.]
[ What might catch Anita's attention is something from next door--namely, a puff of black smoke that suddenly shoots up. That would be Stiles' version of a garden, which currently included a rowan tree and a bunch of other plants, generally medicinal. The small fence they have is open in the back, separating their property from their neighbors but not from the Beacon Hills conservatory, which opens up behind the house. It's for pack related reasons, and their small garden of magical-slash-werewolf-related plants looks downright conspicuous among the trees.
Of course, burning a piece of wood for the collection of mountain ash wasn't exactly conspicuous, but hey. Stiles had to do what he had to do. Didn't exactly realize the neighbors were out and about, though.]
[It does, in fact, catch Anita's attention, and rather than heading back into the house, she heads over towards the lattice fence separating their yards, leaning against it as she peeks over curiously.]
Is this a run-of-the-mill weekend project for you?
[Deadpan:] Sacrificing a lamb. Part of the whole Satanic cult thing we do on Sundays.
[Stiles raises his eyebrows at her, his mouth sliding into a grin as he sits back from his handiwork. The branch is burning slowly and letting off a crisp smell, and there's a little jar set underneath it, so the ash falls into it. A little suspicious, but half their neighbors think the pack is just a cult anyway.]
[She smirks in reply, stealing a quick glance at the project in question. Is he collecting ash? Huh. Maybe something to keep in mind, but she doesn't think much of it for the time being. She looks back over her shoulder towards the abandoned plot before giving him a wry smile.]
I was, and then I realized gardening was a lot more work than I actually wanted to do. The novelty of having a yard to plant one in is nice, though. We've only been in apartments before now.
Oh yeah, totally. Meet in the forest, burn some incense, say a couple words and summon the dark lord Satan. We bring cookies. [ At least she's got a good sense of humor. Other people definitely do not.
Stiles starts to get up, pushing himself off the ground and brushing the dirt off his jeans, ambling over towards her. The jar setup'll catch the ash without him supervising it and he comes over and leans on the fence. It's kind of a novelty, being so damn...well, suburban. On his own. Without his dad. With his husband.
Weird.]
Believe it or not, I never got to live in one of those. Went from living with my dad--[And he jerks his thumb back towards the main branch of town] to here. And hey, I've got kind of a shitty green thumb too, don't feel bad. We just happen to have a forest in our backyard so it makes things easy. They make suburbia like the easy life but man. Bills and gardening and dog walking and all that crap gets kinda complicated.
[Also the fact that they're the supernatural defense force of Beacon Hills, but you know. Nbd.]
So what brings you out here to middle of nowhere California?
You're not missing much with the apartment experience. We move a lot -- or we did for awhile.
[She inclines her head towards the house slightly, indicating her other half.]
Knowing we'll be somewhere long enough to actually have a house and settle is a nice change. I'm a PI, so I go wherever work takes me, but there's a local insurance company that offered me a pretty nice deal to move out here and be on retainer. Couldn't pass it up.
[Well, it wasn't untrue. Being a hunter was sort of like being a private investigator, except for the part where PIs were actually licensed. Which she was. Technically. Her license even looked legitimate. Sam had been very helpful on that front, and it wasn't like she didn't have the skills to back it up if need be.]
Conveniently, Sam goes to school at Stanford, so it worked out well. We get to be near family. What about you? You're a native, sounds like.
[ Moving a lot makes her sound military, which--yep. He breaks into a smile at the PI comment and leans against the fence.] Beacon Hills born and raised. My dad's the sheriff, actually, so I'm sure you'll get to meet him sooner or later.
[ And if their story doesn't check out? Well, his dad would be the first to let him know. Stiles wasn't necessarily that suspicious--he didn't want to be that suspicious, but after Derek had mentioned there was something off with their scent...well, it was best to be safe. They'd worked so hard to fix things in Beacon Hills. They couldn't have it going back to how it had been when Stiles was a teenager.
Stiles nods at the second part, chewing over the story and giving up his own.] Derek's from around here too--we met when I was in high school. [.....what a long story that was.] He works on contract in town and I'm getting my masters at UCLA long distance in criminal psych.
[It seemed like a decent place for kids, aside from the whole ongoing murder mystery angle. Otherwise, a slice of suburban paradise. Not that they would ever have to worry about that particular variable being thrown into their equation. Hunting was the biggest roadblock, but it wasn't the only one.]
I'm sure I will. Maybe I can get you to put in a good word for me at some point, if my husband doesn't completely alienate the two of you. Always nice to be on friendly terms with the local law enforcement.
[Not that Dean had been terrible since their arrival. He was just... well.
He was Dean.
Oh. That implied that Derek hadn't been in high school at the time. She raises an eyebrow, smiling.]
Older man, huh?
Criminal psych is pretty fascinating. How far along are you?
Oh yeah, freakin' idyllic. Boring, though. [ ...Boring if you were a normal resident of Beacon Hills. Stiles' life hadn't been boring since he was sixteen years old. But that's okay, he wouldn't trade it for pretty much anything at this point. ]
He's a nice guy. A little gruff, but he's a huge softie on the inside. Cries at war movies. Just compliment him on his shooting skills and ask him what he thinks of Band of Brothers and you'll be golden.
[ Stiles' mouth draws into a lopsided grin and he leans across the fence, as if he's whispering conspiratorially, wiggling his eyebrows.] Drove a camaro, had a leather jacket, gelled hair, the works. I was doomed. Dude's a total cradle robber and if he tells you anything else, he's lying.
[Pulling back away, he adds:] Working on my thesis. It's a process.
I'll remember that. Am I going to be expected to discuss Band of Brothers, or is being a willing audience enough?
[She grins, leaning forward to meet him, glancing towards the house behind him as he gives his summary of Derek, then looking towards her own back door. Well. She could relate.]
You know, that sounds awfully familiar. I wonder why.
[She straightens up when he does.]
I don't envy you.
[Had her life been different, college and grad school might have been possible, but as things stood? Ten years hunting and nothing else. Too bad they didn't hand out degrees for that. Or zombie raising. That would look fantastic framed on her wall.]
Just nod and smile. [ So far, he really likes Anita. Stiles isn't so sure about Dean--he's not that bad, but there's definitely something that's off there. Stiles' own Supernatural Senses Are Tingling to say the least, but he can't tell exactly what's going on with either of them yet.
It'd be a shame if they were out to screw with the pack, but unfortunately, most supernatural-related things in their life were. Oh well.]
Now imagine it with the Sheriff as your father. Oh man, good times. [ He waves his hand, pondering the date.] Probably in December. That's when I'm supposed to anyway.
[He raises his eyebrows. Introductions are a good time to be nosy.] So does your delinquent husband do PI stuff, too?
I'm sure he loved you dating what amounts to a modern greaser.
[She grins broadly. Thankfully, her father hadn't been around to say anything either way about Dean. She hadn't spoken to him in years. Bobby was the closest thing she had now, though she had to say, she liked his world view a hell of a lot better than she'd liked her biological father's.]
He's a mechanic, actually, but he does help me out now and then. Sometimes I need a second pair of eyes. He's sharper than a lot of people give him credit for.
[Spoken like someone who obviously thinks the very best of him.]
Shotgun talk and everything. [ He rolls his eyes. That had been a family dinner to remember.
A mechanic. Interesting. Filing that information away for later, he leans forward on the fence, obviously interested. This is seriously the best way for him to garner information, mostly because he's a shameless gossip and partly because he's trying to decide what to think of the new neighbors. ] Sounds familiar, actually. [ How many people had underestimated Derek. Dumb move. ] That's pretty impressive though, guess the dude's not squeamish. If we get along, can I get him to look at my piece of crap Jeep next time it dies on the middle of the road? Because it happens. Often.
And now I gotta ask. How did a mechanic and a PI meet? It sounds like something out of a noir movie.
It probably only sounds unusual because most people seem to romanticize private investigators. Maybe I should have my office lit like one of those movies, though. All black and white. Exclusively wear a trenchcoat and a fedora, refer to any ladies that come in as "dames."
[She shrugged, offering him an easy grin.]
Most of what I do is investigate insurance claims and investigate people whose spouses suspect them of adultery. Not very exciting. I've been brought in on all kinds of cases as a consultant before, though. I might not have a badge, but I do know my way around a murder scene.
But anyway, the story's not that dramatic. My car broke down while I was on my way back from a case, he took care of it when the tow dropped me off at the garage. He asked me to dinner, and I figured hey, he's cute and he's buying. Why not?
Yes! Exactly! Dude, I can't believe you aren't taking advantage of that. You've gotta get a cigar and say see a lot too. Seee.
[ As you may quickly learn, Anita, he's kind of ridiculous. Either way, Stiles chuckles, shifting his weight against he fence. PI who has been to murder scenes. It sounds pretty normal, but considering what they'd talked about last night--Sam smelled like sulfur, and Anita like grave dirt?--he can't help but be suspicious. ] Sounds like you're basically a Maury informant.
And now you're married. Funny how that happens. [ If only you knew, Stiles. ]
I'll pass on the cigar, but I'll change up the speech a little. Maybe convince Dean to walk into the office at regular intervals so I can comment on what a nice pair of stems he's got. What a looker.
[Guess what, Stiles? She is also ridiculous -- and doesn't often get the opportunity to let it out freely. You are a godsend, really.]
Sadly, Maury informants might get paid more than I do. I like to think it's a respectable trade-off, though. They get more money, I get to keep my dignity.
[She grinned again, bracing one hand against her hip and making a flippant sort of gesture with the other.]
Well, it was a nice restaurant, and he sprung for dessert. Plus, his ass looked pretty amazing in those jeans. A goodnight kiss didn't quite seem to cut it, you know? Had to step it up so I felt we were square.
I'd be totally willing to follow you around with a boombox playing noir music if you did that. I'm technically still a ocllege student, I don't have a real life.
[ He laughs, leaning against the fence. ] I dunno, man, I feel like you could get super famous off of being a Maury PI. There's all kinds of crazy Maury shit that goes on here in Beacon Hills. Instant makeovers, teenage pregnancies, all of it. [ And that's not even including the supernatural part. ]
Totally sound reason to get hitched. How long's this been going on?
If you want to be my ambiance guy, I can -- well, actually, I can't pay you, but I can feed you. A little. You like sandwiches, right?
[Everybody liked sandwiches. Yeah, her cooking skills leave something to be desired.]
Kind of feels wrong to capitalize on people's stupid mistakes, doesn't it? America sure does eat that kind of thing up, though.
[She pauses and smiles in reply, affectionate enough that whatever doubts or suspicions Stiles may or may not have, it's enough to confirm that their relationship is pretty damn legit.]
We've been together five years. Married for two.
[More specifically, five years ago, they had been snapping at each other over who was intruding on whose hunt, but hey. That wound up being kind of like foreplay. Foreplay that took a couple of years and Sam's intervention to lead to anything, but foreplay all the same.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
Picket Fences [Anita and Stiles, eavesdroppers/crashers welcome!]
Really, it had been four years since she'd stayed anywhere for more than a couple of weeks at a time, and Dean had been in and out of motel rooms since he was a kid. They had been bound to miss a few things. A few, however, turned out to be a rather dizzying amount, and anyone who might have been paying attention would have seen Anita's newly-obtained Jeep pulling in and out of the driveway at all hours whenever a new necessity popped up unexpectedly.
By day three, she was almost positive that she had everything covered, which meant that she had time to return to enjoying the sheer novelty of having a full house at their disposal before getting down to brass tacks. Early afternoon found her in the backyard -- they had a yard -- kneeling beside what looked like prime gardening space set aside by the previous owners, however long ago that might have been. She managed to go through the motions of planting three whole tomato plants before setting her trowel down and removing her gloves, sitting back on her heels.
Okay. This part of domesticity wasn't as exciting as she'd hoped. The high was wearing off, at least concerning gardening. Clearly, that wasn't hobby she was going to be taking up anytime soon. Seriously, it was all kinds of unnecessary work.]
yes good :3c
Of course, burning a piece of wood for the collection of mountain ash wasn't exactly conspicuous, but hey. Stiles had to do what he had to do. Didn't exactly realize the neighbors were out and about, though.]
no subject
Is this a run-of-the-mill weekend project for you?
[What's being subtle?]
no subject
[Stiles raises his eyebrows at her, his mouth sliding into a grin as he sits back from his handiwork. The branch is burning slowly and letting off a crisp smell, and there's a little jar set underneath it, so the ash falls into it. A little suspicious, but half their neighbors think the pack is just a cult anyway.]
Getting your garden on?
no subject
[She smirks in reply, stealing a quick glance at the project in question. Is he collecting ash? Huh. Maybe something to keep in mind, but she doesn't think much of it for the time being. She looks back over her shoulder towards the abandoned plot before giving him a wry smile.]
I was, and then I realized gardening was a lot more work than I actually wanted to do. The novelty of having a yard to plant one in is nice, though. We've only been in apartments before now.
no subject
Stiles starts to get up, pushing himself off the ground and brushing the dirt off his jeans, ambling over towards her. The jar setup'll catch the ash without him supervising it and he comes over and leans on the fence. It's kind of a novelty, being so damn...well, suburban. On his own. Without his dad. With his husband.
Weird.]
Believe it or not, I never got to live in one of those. Went from living with my dad--[And he jerks his thumb back towards the main branch of town] to here. And hey, I've got kind of a shitty green thumb too, don't feel bad. We just happen to have a forest in our backyard so it makes things easy. They make suburbia like the easy life but man. Bills and gardening and dog walking and all that crap gets kinda complicated.
[Also the fact that they're the supernatural defense force of Beacon Hills, but you know. Nbd.]
So what brings you out here to middle of nowhere California?
no subject
[She inclines her head towards the house slightly, indicating her other half.]
Knowing we'll be somewhere long enough to actually have a house and settle is a nice change. I'm a PI, so I go wherever work takes me, but there's a local insurance company that offered me a pretty nice deal to move out here and be on retainer. Couldn't pass it up.
[Well, it wasn't untrue. Being a hunter was sort of like being a private investigator, except for the part where PIs were actually licensed. Which she was. Technically. Her license even looked legitimate. Sam had been very helpful on that front, and it wasn't like she didn't have the skills to back it up if need be.]
Conveniently, Sam goes to school at Stanford, so it worked out well. We get to be near family. What about you? You're a native, sounds like.
no subject
[ And if their story doesn't check out? Well, his dad would be the first to let him know. Stiles wasn't necessarily that suspicious--he didn't want to be that suspicious, but after Derek had mentioned there was something off with their scent...well, it was best to be safe. They'd worked so hard to fix things in Beacon Hills. They couldn't have it going back to how it had been when Stiles was a teenager.
Stiles nods at the second part, chewing over the story and giving up his own.] Derek's from around here too--we met when I was in high school. [.....what a long story that was.] He works on contract in town and I'm getting my masters at UCLA long distance in criminal psych.
no subject
[It seemed like a decent place for kids, aside from the whole ongoing murder mystery angle. Otherwise, a slice of suburban paradise. Not that they would ever have to worry about that particular variable being thrown into their equation. Hunting was the biggest roadblock, but it wasn't the only one.]
I'm sure I will. Maybe I can get you to put in a good word for me at some point, if my husband doesn't completely alienate the two of you. Always nice to be on friendly terms with the local law enforcement.
[Not that Dean had been terrible since their arrival. He was just... well.
He was Dean.
Oh. That implied that Derek hadn't been in high school at the time. She raises an eyebrow, smiling.]
Older man, huh?
Criminal psych is pretty fascinating. How far along are you?
no subject
He's a nice guy. A little gruff, but he's a huge softie on the inside. Cries at war movies. Just compliment him on his shooting skills and ask him what he thinks of Band of Brothers and you'll be golden.
[ Stiles' mouth draws into a lopsided grin and he leans across the fence, as if he's whispering conspiratorially, wiggling his eyebrows.] Drove a camaro, had a leather jacket, gelled hair, the works. I was doomed. Dude's a total cradle robber and if he tells you anything else, he's lying.
[Pulling back away, he adds:] Working on my thesis. It's a process.
no subject
[She grins, leaning forward to meet him, glancing towards the house behind him as he gives his summary of Derek, then looking towards her own back door. Well. She could relate.]
You know, that sounds awfully familiar. I wonder why.
[She straightens up when he does.]
I don't envy you.
[Had her life been different, college and grad school might have been possible, but as things stood? Ten years hunting and nothing else. Too bad they didn't hand out degrees for that. Or zombie raising. That would look fantastic framed on her wall.]
Any idea when you'll be able to present it?
no subject
It'd be a shame if they were out to screw with the pack, but unfortunately, most supernatural-related things in their life were. Oh well.]
Now imagine it with the Sheriff as your father. Oh man, good times. [ He waves his hand, pondering the date.] Probably in December. That's when I'm supposed to anyway.
[He raises his eyebrows. Introductions are a good time to be nosy.] So does your delinquent husband do PI stuff, too?
no subject
[She grins broadly. Thankfully, her father hadn't been around to say anything either way about Dean. She hadn't spoken to him in years. Bobby was the closest thing she had now, though she had to say, she liked his world view a hell of a lot better than she'd liked her biological father's.]
He's a mechanic, actually, but he does help me out now and then. Sometimes I need a second pair of eyes. He's sharper than a lot of people give him credit for.
[Spoken like someone who obviously thinks the very best of him.]
no subject
A mechanic. Interesting. Filing that information away for later, he leans forward on the fence, obviously interested. This is seriously the best way for him to garner information, mostly because he's a shameless gossip and partly because he's trying to decide what to think of the new neighbors. ] Sounds familiar, actually. [ How many people had underestimated Derek. Dumb move. ] That's pretty impressive though, guess the dude's not squeamish. If we get along, can I get him to look at my piece of crap Jeep next time it dies on the middle of the road? Because it happens. Often.
And now I gotta ask. How did a mechanic and a PI meet? It sounds like something out of a noir movie.
no subject
[She shrugged, offering him an easy grin.]
Most of what I do is investigate insurance claims and investigate people whose spouses suspect them of adultery. Not very exciting. I've been brought in on all kinds of cases as a consultant before, though. I might not have a badge, but I do know my way around a murder scene.
But anyway, the story's not that dramatic. My car broke down while I was on my way back from a case, he took care of it when the tow dropped me off at the garage. He asked me to dinner, and I figured hey, he's cute and he's buying. Why not?
no subject
[ As you may quickly learn, Anita, he's kind of ridiculous. Either way, Stiles chuckles, shifting his weight against he fence. PI who has been to murder scenes. It sounds pretty normal, but considering what they'd talked about last night--Sam smelled like sulfur, and Anita like grave dirt?--he can't help but be suspicious. ] Sounds like you're basically a Maury informant.
And now you're married. Funny how that happens. [ If only you knew, Stiles. ]
no subject
I'll pass on the cigar, but I'll change up the speech a little. Maybe convince Dean to walk into the office at regular intervals so I can comment on what a nice pair of stems he's got. What a looker.
[Guess what, Stiles? She is also ridiculous -- and doesn't often get the opportunity to let it out freely. You are a godsend, really.]
Sadly, Maury informants might get paid more than I do. I like to think it's a respectable trade-off, though. They get more money, I get to keep my dignity.
[She grinned again, bracing one hand against her hip and making a flippant sort of gesture with the other.]
Well, it was a nice restaurant, and he sprung for dessert. Plus, his ass looked pretty amazing in those jeans. A goodnight kiss didn't quite seem to cut it, you know? Had to step it up so I felt we were square.
no subject
[ He laughs, leaning against the fence. ] I dunno, man, I feel like you could get super famous off of being a Maury PI. There's all kinds of crazy Maury shit that goes on here in Beacon Hills. Instant makeovers, teenage pregnancies, all of it. [ And that's not even including the supernatural part. ]
Totally sound reason to get hitched. How long's this been going on?
no subject
[Everybody liked sandwiches. Yeah, her cooking skills leave something to be desired.]
Kind of feels wrong to capitalize on people's stupid mistakes, doesn't it? America sure does eat that kind of thing up, though.
[She pauses and smiles in reply, affectionate enough that whatever doubts or suspicions Stiles may or may not have, it's enough to confirm that their relationship is pretty damn legit.]
We've been together five years. Married for two.
[More specifically, five years ago, they had been snapping at each other over who was intruding on whose hunt, but hey. That wound up being kind of like foreplay. Foreplay that took a couple of years and Sam's intervention to lead to anything, but foreplay all the same.]