shroudedheart​ :

It would be a lie to say Stiles hadn’t tried to sign Isaac up with someone else for the stake out. He tried for a second (so he could say he did) and accepted the partnership. At least they had a task and a goal and a criminal on the loos; that helped stay focused on the task and it helped creating a haze around the entire fact that Isaac was here.

     Any minute now Stiles expected to wake up from this weird dream, but it never happened and so he decided the best thing he could do was to roll with it. Forget the past, don’t worry about the future, and focus on the present. It was easier with a bag full of curly fries - the best ones in town - and a mouth full of them. It gave him an excuse not to talk with Isaac and it surely gave the grumpy fool a reason to be even grumpier.

                “I swear to god, Lahey…” the words were muttered out, accompanied by a little bit of potato flying from Stiles’ mouth as he turned around to look at Isaac. Taking the higher-road clearly didn’t work. “It’s Stiles.” He pulled his hand out of the bag, licking his finger clean before taping his ear to activate the connection to the other teams. “Heads up, we might have seen something.” He ended the connection again, pulling his door open. 

                                   “I’m going in. Are you coming along or staying?”

Isaac didn’t really need to look to confirm what he could already hear. Blood vessels popping. Jaw clenching. Heart pumping a little angrier. And if he wasn’t completely devoted to looking like the grumpy fool he might have laughed even. Shaken his head and let himself think he looked adorable when he was angry. Fortunately, the distraction meant he could hone in on the abnormal noise. 

He grabbed Stiles’ arm before he could jump out. Just stilling him there with his eyes closed as he tried to figure out where the noise was coming from exactly and only opened them when he’d tuned in on the correct direction. 

“ Don’t forget your gun, dumbass. “ He remarked as he let him go. Pushing his own door open as well and exhaling softly. Expelling everything else for that distinct clinking of his keys and that tap tap noise of Colbert’s welted country shoes. It had to be him. It had to. 

They just needed to catch him off guard in a sea of civilians. Yep. Easy work. 

He takes point then. Hands in his pocket. Casual as he stepped ahead of Stiles. Easier of course with his long legs and mostly stubborn determination. He needed to confirm with his own eyes that his senses was right.