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notexactlyalphaoftheyearDerek was ready to tear his hair out.
Emma Swan was driving him crazy, in all the right ways...which were so wrong, because he really couldn't do a girlfriend right now, especially not one with a kid. She had a bounty to chase, he had a deadpool still making his life miserable long after it was dead and gone--none of this made sense or would work at all.
Except for the fact that they were playing house so she could nail her bounty and he could be done with these assholes who still thought there was a way to cash in on killing supernatural creatures.
Fortunately (and unfortunately), he had a night off from Swan, that knowing sister (cousin?) in her pack, and the deadpool. They weren't due to stake out her target for three more days, and he was alone for the night with a few movies, a couple of thick steaks, and the solitude he needed to mediate a little before the full moon in roughly two or three days.
So he took a shower, put the steaks on...and was just finishing them up, hair still damp and wearing only a pair of jeans when he caught a scent.
Frowning, Derek plated the steaks and crept silently through the loft. Reaching the door, he paused, listening...
Two heartbeats. Two sets of feet, one heavier than the other...the clean, sultry fragrance of leather and soap on skin...and another, warm cotton and the chemical sting of some off the shelf scented body spray for men...
Torn between confused and aggravated, Derek didn't wait for them to reach his door. Sliding it open, he stepped into the hall and waited until Emma came into view.
His expression immediately softened when he saw the male following after her.
"Emma?" he called out, leaning in the doorway and crossing his arms over his bare chest. "What's going on? What are you doing here?"
Emma Swan was driving him crazy, in all the right ways...which were so wrong, because he really couldn't do a girlfriend right now, especially not one with a kid. She had a bounty to chase, he had a deadpool still making his life miserable long after it was dead and gone--none of this made sense or would work at all.
Except for the fact that they were playing house so she could nail her bounty and he could be done with these assholes who still thought there was a way to cash in on killing supernatural creatures.
Fortunately (and unfortunately), he had a night off from Swan, that knowing sister (cousin?) in her pack, and the deadpool. They weren't due to stake out her target for three more days, and he was alone for the night with a few movies, a couple of thick steaks, and the solitude he needed to mediate a little before the full moon in roughly two or three days.
So he took a shower, put the steaks on...and was just finishing them up, hair still damp and wearing only a pair of jeans when he caught a scent.
Frowning, Derek plated the steaks and crept silently through the loft. Reaching the door, he paused, listening...
Two heartbeats. Two sets of feet, one heavier than the other...the clean, sultry fragrance of leather and soap on skin...and another, warm cotton and the chemical sting of some off the shelf scented body spray for men...
Torn between confused and aggravated, Derek didn't wait for them to reach his door. Sliding it open, he stepped into the hall and waited until Emma came into view.
His expression immediately softened when he saw the male following after her.
"Emma?" he called out, leaning in the doorway and crossing his arms over his bare chest. "What's going on? What are you doing here?"
