Christmas in California
The morning after arriving in Beacon Hills has Stiles waking up and momentarily freezing as his mind processes where he is and what has happened. Sitting up, he looks around, relaxing when his gaze lands on Derek who is sleeping soundly beside him. Smiling, he slowly slips out of the bed and makes his way downstairs where he finds his father standing at the stove, the fresh scent of breakfast cooking.
“Morning,” Noah greets with a grin over his shoulder.
“Hi,” Stiles smiles, moving by his father, reaching out to clap the older man on the shoulder.
“Derek still asleep?” Noah asks.
“Yeah, surprisingly,” Stiles hums.
“Well then, are your friends outside going to be joining us, or are they going to keep scoping out the perimeter?”
Stiles chuckles and pulls out his phone, pressing a button, he presses the device to his ear.
“Hello?” Coulson’s voice comes through.
“My dad wants to know what you guys want for breakfast,” Stiles hums with a grin.
For a moment the other man says nothing before he eventually lets out a sigh. “Barton says bacon and pancakes, and Romanov wants coffee…we’ll be in shortly,” he says before the line goes dead.
“So should I be concerned that you and Derek come home and the next morning there are people trying to sneak around my yard?”
Stiles pauses before shrugging. “I'll have to let my boss answer that,” he settles on.
A few moments later, Derek comes down the stairs, dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a shirt that clings to his body enough that has Stiles averting his gaze, lest he make a fool of himself in front of his father. A few seconds later, the door opens and Coulson enters, Natasha and Clint on his heels.
“Sheriff Stilinski,” Coulson greets, extending his hand. “I'm agent Phil Coulson.”
“You’re not FBI,” Noah says easily, flipping the pancake in the skillet. “If you were, you wouldn't be sneaking around my yard, and your agents wouldn't be armed to the teeth,” he grins before nodding his head to Clint’s thigh where Stiles knows the archer keeps a spare blade and gun.
“Your old man is scary good,” Clint chuckles as he moves to sit beside Stiles.
“Well I am a sheriff, and I raised Stiles,” Noah replies with a grin. “So who are you?”
“We’re from S.H.I.E.L.D.” Coulson says after a moment’s pause.
“Never heard of you, which means I'm not supposed to know about you, huh?”
“I'm surprised you haven't, ever since New York, last year, it's been…quite difficult keeping a lid on things.”
Nodding, Noah plates the pancake and turns to face Coulson. “So, my son is working for you?” he asks.
“That he is, and he's a fantastic agent.”
“Aww…you do care about me,” Stiles snickers with Clint, earning an eye roll from Phil.
“And who are they?” Noah asks, gesturing to the still snickering Clint, and Natasha who is looking at Stiles and the archer with a mix of fond annoyance.
“Agents Romanoff and Barton.”
Noah crosses his shoulders and finally turns to Derek. “And you’re part of this too?” he asks.
“Yes, Sir,” Derek nods. “I joined with Stiles.”
“And what do you think?”
“They’re good people,” the werewolf answers.
Nodding, Noah turns back to Coulson and finally smirks. “Well then, how do you take your pancakes?”
---
Noah sits with Coulson and watches as Stiles and the others move about the living room, decorating the Christmas tree that the four of them had gone out to get, utilizing the nearby woods for their choices.
“How did you find him?” Noah asks the senior agent. “More importantly, how did you manage to convince him to accept your offer?”
Coulson grins. “It took some convincing, some of that ending with me surprised by how strong his magic is,”
Noah nods and hums as he rakes a hand down his face. “Trust me, that was a discovery for me too,” he chuckles. “Magic, werewolves, nogitsune…all of it, took me by surprise.”
“Trust me, I can relate,” Coulson chuckles, his thoughts traveling to the Asgardian. “But they are good agents, your son has a brilliant mind, a good strategist like none I've ever seen on anyone at that age,” he hums.
Noah smiles with pride as he nods. He opens his mouth to continue the conversation when suddenly Derek tenses and looks to the door just as it opens to reveal Peter and Chris who enter the home with smiles, smiles that falter when their gazes land on Phil, Clint, and Natasha.
“Noah, you didn't say that you were entertaining.”
Noah glances at Coulson who glances between the two men.
“What are you doing here, uncle Peter?” Derek asks, stepping forward, causing the older man to narrow his eyes.
“Why nephew, you don't typically call me that,” the werewolf says. “Unless of course you are being sarcastic, we are in the presence of people who don't know anything about us…or trying to make me seem less of a threat,” Peter smiles. “So who am I supposed to not threaten?”
“Play nice, Peter,” Chris says as he glances at Coulson and the others. “But he’s right,” he adds. “So…hunters?”
“Worse,” Noah chuckles.
Coulson chuckles and gets to his feet. “We’re the government, and we’re here to help,” he smiles. “I'm Agent Phil Coulson, of S.H.I.E.L.D, and these are my assets, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, and you know Derek and Stiles.” he grins.
“Assets?” Peter cackles. “Well darling it's about time someone other than my nephew complimented you,” Peter snarks before moving to sit beside Noah. “Peter Hale, the uncle to your…asset,” he says plainly.
“Chris Argent,” the hunter introduces, rolling his eyes fondly at Peter’s antics. “Not related to anyone here, but…”
Taking a breath, Noah turns to Stiles. “They are with me…as in…with me,” in response, Stiles shrugs.
“I figured, you didn't aim your gun at Peter or threaten him when he came in, and you and Chris have always had the whole…thing going on.”
Noah narrows his eyes, trying to make sense of his sons’ words but eventually settles on giving up with a shrug.
“Well then, now that introductions are done, and the Christmas tree is done, Derek and I are going out to get some last minute shopping done,” he says to his father who nods.
“Ooh, sounds fun,” Clint exclaims from the living room. “Come on Nat, let's go shopping!”
“You hate shopping,”
“But I love presents!” the archer counters as he pulls the redhead to her feet. Together they go to grab their bags and a change of clothes.
“Be careful,” Coulson tells Stiles. “Barton tends to get overzealous with gift giving,” he warns.
Chuckling, Stiles nods with a “yes, Sir,” before snapping his fingers to change his and Derek’s clothes. Together they head for the door.
Noah watches them go before letting out a sigh. “Well that went well,” he says, earning smirks from the other men.