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A Grimm Visit	By : AkumaKawa Category: S through Z > Teen Wolf Views: 4549 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: Teen Wolf and Grimm are not owned by me, no money made.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
A/N Fair warning, not much of Grimm will be shown in the beginning. Just so I don't get your hopes up. The reason being due to the shifting time frame of Teen Wolf, seems the show started off at the end of 2010 and is only now reaching March of 2011...so I'm shifting time a bit on Grimm.

This is part of the reason why the chapter is so late. I had to decide what I was going to do in the coming up chapters because this new information radically changed my perspective on time-frame.

Due to this, I really hate this chapter. This stupid scene wouldn't end!!! Nothing went how I wanted to and I think it's horrible.

Edited: This chapter was vastly longer than the others and has been re-worked several times since I got my beta. My beta and I went through five different fixing sessions on this chapter and probably re-wrote most of it three times.

That said, please let me know what you think.

A Grimm Visit

Chapter 4

It was still day one of what Stiles was calling The Kidnapping. Stiles had just finished stretching out the kinks in his back from the long drive from Beacon Hills and followed his father into the Portland PD building. They went through the guest check-in and were escorted up the stairs to the floor that the detectives his dad is supposed to be working with are at.

The moment that they walked into the room an uneasy feeling swept over Stiles. An Asian police officer in uniform with the same haircut as Stiles is called over by their escort. They exchange a few words and then the officer, Sergeant Wu, Stiles learns, escorts his father over to an office where the Captain is at. Stiles is regulated to the guest chairs. Staring out over the desks and officers as they answer calls.

It's strange, he is in the middle of a police dept building in the midst of homicide detectives and he isn't feeling safe. He feels on edge and wary and Stiles isn't sure why. It's that little voice in him that tells him something isn't quite right. He doesn't have goosebumps or the hair on the back of his neck rising, but it is a close thing. He feels like he is being watched but not watched with eyes, not any that he can see when he glances around the office, but something else. If he was in Beacon Hills he might say he was being watched by a werewolf or something else that is supernatural in origin. Maybe a ghost? But that doesn't feel right either.

This strange unknown feeling makes Stiles a bit jumpy and nervous. Even more so than usual. He can't explain it, he doesn't really understand it, all he knows is that something feels off in the room. He didn't feel threatened though. Stiles wondered if he was an animal or a werewolf if this feeling would feel almost as if he stepped into someone or something else's territory.

Stiles didn't know what to think and every so often he would glance to the door of the office his father was in. He knew his dad was safe, nothing could get in the police dept with all these officers and their guns around, and he knew that the officers had no reason to attack his dad. So why was he so anxious? Why did he feel that he had to keep an eye on his dad?

His leg was bouncing up and down and his arms kept crossing and uncrossing and his other leg was tapping out some sort of rhythm. The more Stiles tried to calm his body the more it rebelled against him. He wanted to get up and look around. Sort out where the strange warning/wary/invasive territorial feeling was coming from. He wanted to check on his dad. He wanted to get out of this seat. It was driving him nuts.

He was gaining attention from the officers at their desks and those that were walking around. Stiles wondered if they thought he was on drugs. He was. But it was legal. Prescription and everything. He needed the drugs. It kept him calm...well calmer than how he is off the drugs.

Unable to contain himself any longer Stiles jumped up and started to pace. At first it was just in front of his seat. Walking left then right then left then right then left then right. Slowly the area in which he was pacing started to get longer. His arms kept going from being crossed across his chest, to in his jean pants pockets, to being clasped behind his back and back again. He knew he was making the cops nervous he caught several of them looking at him sideways and commenting to each other.

It's not his fault he has a medical condition! Not everyone is blessed with being able to have control of their body and able to sit still for longer than ten minutes without drugs placating their bodies!

Stiles knew he needed to calm down. He was just taking everything out of context and feeling trapped in the room. Why? He didn't know but he knew that there was nothing actually.

Stiles was hoping it was just because he hadn't taken his medication in a while and the stress of everything he's been through and he would have already taken a pill to help, but he left his pills in his bag in the jeep which is downstairs in the parking lot at his dad's behest. Stiles was sure his dad would have let him take his bag if he knew his son was going to go crazy inside a police station because his medication had worn off – even though Stiles knew there was something else going on that was how he was going to explain to his dad – when his dad comes running out of the room due to the commotion caused by his A.D.H.D. son being tackled down by a horde of cops handcuffing him because they think he is on PHP and is about to do something.

Glancing over to the door where his dear loving father – who left him with nothing to distract himself from boredom – disappeared to, he caught Sergeant Wu's nervous looking eye. As much as he wanted to scream out that everything was fine he was just having a minor panic attack or anxiety attack due to his inability to keep calm while his A.D.H.D. symptoms are acting up he didn't think that it would help matters. At the very least it would embarrass his father and that was a no-no. Especially, not while his dad was still pissed at him about the Isaac Lahey escape issue and it would only increase his dad's disappointment in him. Which is something that Stiles never wants.

There is also the issue that he thinks the cops won't believe it. They never believe the suspect until all other avenues have been pursued first. So high with bad drugs it is.

Stiles sighs and runs his hand through his hair. He needs to calm down and standing up and pacing isn't making things better. In fact, he thinks it is making things worse. His skin is tingling. God, he feels like he is being spied on by some sort of predator. His body's telling him to run, run far away, far far away.

But he can't. Because like any good, decent, polite, human he's not listening to his gift of fear and is being the naive human getting into a locked box that is controlled by a switch that someone else is standing by even though the guy is giving him serial killer/rapey looks. Elevators are rape traps and death traps but mainly rape traps.

Stiles takes a deep breath and walks back to his seat. He brings his legs up on the seat and encloses them within his arms wrapped over his shins. He closes his eyes and leans his head down to rest on his knees. He takes a deep long breath through his nose and holds it for ten seconds and then breathes out through his mouth. He does this again and again and again. Trying to slow his heart rate and to calm his body.

It seems to take forever but only minutes have passed since he started and Stiles thinks it's starting to work. He can feel the panic slowly leaving his body. The maniac energy slowly losing its grip on his mind and body. He can feel the light-headedness associated with a high intake of oxygen giving him a natural calming high. Everything's a drug in life. Just depends on how legal and safe they are. Every single cop in this building is an addict to the most powerful and exploited drug in the world, caffeine, typically found in coffee and tea.

However, even with the calmness caused by the breathing exercise Stiles can tell that the feeling of wariness and unease had not left. Stiles was starting to become exasperated and exhausted by the stifling feelings he can't understand. Is it not just in his mind? Is he really picking up some warning? Should he leave? But what about his dad?

Then all of a sudden Stiles started to notice that the feeling was lifting. One moment it felt like this heavy burden on him would never leave and the next it was suddenly lighter and then after that it was gone completely. Stiles is so shocked by the absence of this unknown wary feeling that for a moment he couldn't believe it was gone.

Stiles hears a noise by the door from the hallway and in walks two detectives. One was tall and black with broad shoulders and hair as long as Stiles' with a mini mustache and wearing a leather jacket. Stiles wonders for a second what it is that keeps causing him to run into men who wear leather jackets. Does he have a leather fetish? Because this guy – even though, he does look old enough to be a classmate of his father's – looks good in the jacket and then Stiles tries to erase that very thought from his mind because he knows it will lead him to think about Derek and thinking about Derek is all wrong, especially, here and now because then he gets all nervousy and fidgety. He is supposed to be trying to calm down and not fidget because he is in a police station and the cops are still looking at him funny because of his previous pacing incident.

The other detective was lithe, white, with brown hair and eyes. He looks to be about the same height as Stiles except his hair is longer and is combed over to the side. For a second he wonders if the cop was channeling some 70's teen idol heartthrob with that haircut. It looks like it. Then again he could just like having his hair pulled – and Stiles really needs to stop having thoughts like this. Especially, with people old enough to nearly be his father... Maybe he likes older people? Lydia did always seem to be more mature than anyone else he knew.

The feeling of the absence of the encroaching wary feeling hits him again and Stiles looks around the room wondering where it's coming from and then glances back to the two detectives. Is it them?

Stiles is unsure what to do at this point. His curiosity is demanding he go over to their desks and find out if this 'safe zone' is really being emanated by one of them, finding which one it is, or if it is both of them. Yet, he feels restrained due to his dad mandating that he stay in his seat and by the other cops still glancing at him like he might go psycho anytime. Especially, that Sergeant Wu who is still giving him the evil eye...well it could be a wary eye but at this point Stiles feels insulted and thus it is hereby known as an evil eye look.

Stiles puts up with his curiosity as he watches them from his seat. Once the oppressive atmosphere was lifted his tics and flailing had ceased and his agitation of having to leave the room now ended. However, once he realized that it might be connected to the two detectives he started to get anxious again. This time it wasn't connected to anything supernatural, it was all his own due to his curiosity about what was going on. It was like that time when Scott got bit and Stiles was just so amped up to go into the woods and check out the dead body.

Stiles checks his cell phone, it's on vibrate, as his dad dictated to him to do when they got out of the jeep, but still no messages from Scott and the others. The time shows that he has been waiting for his dad for about forty-five minutes.

Not bad, per se, but it doesn't leave him much hope for how much longer the meeting will take.

As Stiles starts up his pacing again he notices that the other cops are glancing at him out of the side of their eyes again. Sergeant Wu just ups and sighs as if it is the worst thing that could possibly happen to him. Stiles thinks that it's a little bit funny. As if the worst thing that could happen to him is Stiles being in his vicinity. He's used to it with his dad's deputies in Beacon Hills, but they all know him. They also know about his medical condition, so they are less likely to take offense and just yell at him to shut up or stop misbehaving.

He notices that Heartthrob detective has glanced at him several times while he paced. Leather Jacket detective did as well and called over Sergeant Wu. Stiles wonders what Sergeant Wu would say. How much does he know anyway? Stiles actually stops in his pacing near a desk in which the officer left so as to surreptitiously listen in on the conversation.

It fails.

Spectacularly so, as Stiles shows just how klutzy he can be. It seemed that he not only overplayed his hand – they so totally noticed him there in the first place – but that as he was leaning over to tie his shoes, behind the desk so as to hide, he leaned a bit too far and fell over on his back, splayed for them to see. He jumped up quickly so as to save himself the embarrassment and brushed himself off and quietly and quickly sulked off to his chair.

This was just not his day.

Back at his chair Stiles started to tap his shoes on the floor once more. He also kept glancing at his phone. Still nothing. During these times he took to glancing up at the detectives. Not only were they still talking every so often they would glance directly in his direction.

It was unnerving to say the least. Stiles debated on getting up and walking to the Captain's office if only to glance at his dad and make sure everything was okay or to see if they were finally wrapping things up. His curiosity was driving him insane and the fact that he couldn't find a way to relieve it by distracting himself with something was making it worse. It was like an itch he can't scratch. Why did it stop then? Why those detectives? Why not someone else?

Stiles checked his phone. Still nothing. What are they doing that they can't even text me a single message? Not even a, Stiles how are you? Or a, how is the kidnapping going? Stiles guessed that Scott was wrapped in Allison drama. It was typical that when Stiles needed Scott that Scott was wrapped up in Allison.

Stiles was finding himself lost. With the absence of the attack there was nothing to distract him from the boredom he feels with nothing to do and his medication no longer working. His mind keeps jumping from thought to thought and the over encompassing feeling is boredom.

Trying to focus onto something else, Stiles sends off a text to everyone complaining about his trip, how his dad kidnapped him, how he's been sitting in a police station for nearly an hour with nothing to do and no one to talk to and how he is nearly going stark raving mad!

Stiles wasn't holding out hope that anyone would text him back. Scott was his only real friend and since Allison popped up Stiles has been recasted to sidekick on standby. Normally, it wouldn't bother Stiles but he has nothing to occupy his mind and no one else to talk to like Danny or Lydia. Hell, even Isaac would be nice around now...or Derek.

Stiles breathes out deeply and lays his head back against the wall. He wasn't really calm as his fingers starting to tap tap tap on his leg showed. He tried closing his eyes and thinking calming thoughts but that wasn't really going to stop it. He knew that. His agitation was driven by the need to find out just what the hell was going on here. He needed to know why.

Why did he feel a hostile environment once he walked into the station? Why did it seem to warn him away? Warn him away from what? Or who? Why was it when the two detectives walked in that he felt an ease and sense of safety? Was it them per se that caused this? Or was the feeling of hostility going away on its own and it was just a coincidence? Is it all in his mind? Is Stiles from being around all these supernatural incidents in Beacon Hills making him lose his grip on reality? Is he just imagining everything? Is he going to need more medication to handle his hallucinations?

Stiles didn't know and it was driving him bonkers. He knew that this shouldn't bother him. He knew that this could just be nothing. If this had happened a few months back he probably wouldn't even care. He'd probably think that this was all in his head in some way. The fact of the matter is that he is not the Stiles Stilinski of a few months ago.

No one is.

People learn things, grow, and change and evolve as persons. Even in the most normal of circumstances. But Stiles has been involved with the supernatural for the past few months of clusterfuck events. He faced down the sociopathic crazy-as-hell Peter Hale and learned that nothing is as it seems from Derek Hale and the times that Scott and him set him up as a patsy for the murders the Alpha committed.

Something just doesn't feel right. It's like his spidey-senses are tingling. Something else is going on and he can't quite put his finger on it. Stiles doesn't know what to think in this situation. He wishes Derek was here or Scott, they should have some idea if he is being paranoid or if there really is some sort of barrier that is causing the hostile aura to surround him and why when those two detectives walked in that he felt the hostility ease.

Stiles sighs again. He lifts his hand to rub over his head as he leans forward from back against the wall. He lets his hand fall back down as he sits hunched over his lap and opens his eyes. Sergeant Wu had wandered off from the desks of the two detectives. Stiles glanced quickly over the room but didn't spot him. He noticed that the two detectives were sitting close and conversing with one another.

Stiles wondered if it was about him. If it was Scott and him they would be talking about the weird kid who everyone in the station is seeming to avoid because he is acting like he is on drugs and unable to sit still for more than five minutes at a time. So, of course, they are talking about him. Still, he wonders what all they are saying. Do they think he is on drugs? Do they think he is anxious about something? Or did they guess right and think it's because he has a medical condition and probably needs to take his medicine?

Stiles glanced back at the door in which his father was shut behind. Still nothing. No change from the last dozen times he checked. Stiles glances at his phone. Nothing there either. Stiles can't figure out if this is one of those 'time flies/watched clock' situations or if it really is taking that long and his friends really are super busy with something. Not that it matters to Stiles stuck as he is in the seat his father demanded he sit in and stay.

This is bor–ing. Stiles sighs. He can't sit down in the seat trying to be good boy his dad wants his son to be. He can't, things are happening and he can't ignore them. It's not like has his pills to calm his mind down from bouncing from one subject to the next and it's not like he has anything to distract him from it either.

I'm bor–ed. Stiles shifts in his seat unable to sit still.

Bored. Stiles' leg starts to bounce.

Bored. Stiles hand starts to tap.

BORED! Stiles takes a deep sigh and leans back against the wall and lifts his legs onto the seat so that he is once again hugging his legs. He needs to calm down, he needs to focus. He needs to concentrate his whole body on one thing to calm himself down. He tries to focus on breathing, concentrating everything to just one action.

Stiles was unsure how much longer he can take this. He's trying to distract himself from the questions he wants to know but that only make him more anxious. He desperately wants to check on his father. To find out where the warning was coming from. To find out why he felt it. To find out why it left. To find out the connection between it and the two detectives. If there was a connection. Most of all, he wants to find out if there was something supernatural going on or it is all just in his head.

The worst part was that he couldn't. To do that he had to leave his seat and that will just make things worse with his dad.

Stiles sighs and looks up to spy on the detectives once more. Stiles' heart catches in his throat as he realizes they aren't talking secretly anymore. No, they are watching him. Closely. Stiles feels his heart start to beat faster. He can't figure out if it is because they caught him looking at them or if it's his fight/flight/freeze defensive response system kicking in. The detective with the 70's heartthrob hair lifts his hand, points it straight at Stiles and beckons him with a finger.

Stiles futilely turns around to see if there is anyone else nearby that the detective could be pointing at but there is nothing but the wall and empty seats nearby. Stiles slowly unwraps his arms around his legs and puts his feet on the ground. He takes a deep breath and half feeling like he is walking to his own grave site he starts the slow long walk to the desks where the detectives sit.

As he's walking he glances to the door where his dad is behind. Half willing his dad to come out and save him. Nothing happens though, so Stiles continues his walk off the plank moment. Approaching the desks Heartthrob Hair moves a chair for Stiles to sit in.

Stiles has a funny feeling he is about to be interrogated. Harshly.

Sitting down between the two detectives makes Stiles even more nervous and he starts to tap his fingers on the desk while he waits for one of them to speak.

It's Leather Jacket detective who speaks first with a deep voice while Heartthrob Hair watches him. "So, Wu tells us that you're here with your dad. A cop working on a case that intersects with one of our department's own?"

Stiffly and with a slight insolence Stiles replies. "Sheriff. My dad is the Sheriff of Beacon Hills and yeah from what I know of it dad says that one of Portland PD's case and his own looks alike so he wanted to come up to exchange information on it."

"Hmm," Leather Jacket responds.

Stiles replicated the non-verbal sound in a sarcastic manner his nerves starting to get to him. To his astonishment he wasn't reprimanded for being a smart-ass They laughed instead. Not a fully body laugh or anything of the sort but the low chuckle that showed amusement.

"Hank Griffin," Leather Jacket tells Stiles as his holds out his hand.

Stiles shakes Hank's hand a little bemused at what is going on. He thought this was going to be an interrogation or something but it seems like they are just introducing themselves to Stiles?

"Nick Burkhardt," Heartthrob Hair tells Stiles as he holds out his hand. As Stiles' hand connects with Nick's a feeling of peace and calm zings through his body. It is then that Stiles realizes that Nick is the one that is emanating the peaceful aura that is wrapped around this room. The hostile feeling that was being effused throughout the room was being repelled by the tranquility that Nick was radiating from his being.

Stiles didn't understand it. He half thought that it was all in his head but now he knows it wasn't. Now he knows not only that the feeling of peace was coming from someone and he felt it, but that the feeling of hostility and warning was also being broadcast throughout the room by someone or something.

Stiles takes a calming breath and tells them his name. He twists his hands in his lap, after he shakes Nick's hand, as he tries to calm down – which should be easy considering that Nick is radiating calm throughout the room but it's really not since Stiles' mind is going in overdrive trying to understand what in the hell is going on in Portland – and breathes slowly as he takes this all in. He has to be calm. He has to act like nothing supernatural is going on. He's not even sure that Nick knows that he's doing this.

Stiles isn't even sure if anyone but him has noticed what's going on. Nobody has changed in their attitude or demeanor since Nick and Hank walked in. No one has had a radical shift in mood. The only one who has acted strange this whole time has been Stiles. Stiles alone.

"Stiles Stilinski? What kind of name is that?" Stiles hears Hank ask through Stiles' rambling assessment of the panic/calm down state of the supernatural psychic territorial dispute situation.

"My own name. I chose it." Stiles glares at Hank for daring to insult the name that he chose to name himself. It was an awesome name. Everybody loved it.

"Chose it?" Hank asks confused.

"My mother named me after my grandfather and it's one of those old country unpronounceable names. I couldn't pronounce it or my last name when I was younger so I just went by Stiles and kept it that way." Stiles spoke in the got a problem with it tone of the easily offended.

Hank threw Nick a save me look and Nick decided to comply. "So, you said you are from Beacon Hills. Hank, why does that name sound familiar?"

Stiles knew all he had to do was say one word, well two if you want to get technical, and they would know. Everyone knew who Kate Argent was. Not only did she hire some goons to massacre an entire family, the Hales, but she also, six years later, murdered each and every co-conspirator involved in the original murder and cover-up. The fact that she was found dead with her throat ripped out, well her windpipe if you want to be pedantic about it, just added fuel to the gossip fodder.

Hank knew he recognized the name but he just couldn't place it. "Beacon Hills. Beacon Hills. Beacon Hills. I'm not sure. I know I should know it. Is it from one of our cases?"

"No I don't think so," Nick replied somewhat unsure himself.

Hank thought some more about it. "So something else then. Maybe something news worthy happened there?"

"Where is Beacon Hills?" Nick asked Stiles.

With a tiny smirk Stiles replied, "California"

With this new information Hank thought he might be able to place the town. "Beacon Hills, California. Beacon Hills California. Beacon Hills California."

Stiles is trying not to smirk but it is hard to do. His little big-town home to werewolves and the supernatural in the middle of the woods is hard to forget for those who live there. But to a big city like Portland it must be boondockville for all that they care about it until something big like a Kate Argent happens and makes state and national news.

Hank noticed that Stiles was smirking and pointed it out. "He's smirking Nick."

Nick takes this all in stride with a little sarcastic humor. "He is, isn't he? So he must know why we recognize the name, but can't place it."

Hank nods and says contemplatively, "So something big must've happened there."

"Now what could make a small no-name town gain national coverage, Hank?" Nick says with a little dry humor.

Hank continues on in this vein, "Had to be gossip worthy. So probably either a big drugs bust, some big scandal, or serial killer murders."

Hank and Nick noticed that Stiles twitched on two phrases during Hank's spiel. Nick brought it up since it was his turn to speak. "He twitched on big scandal and serial killer, Hank. Now, what do you think that means?"

Hank pretended to take a long time, just a few seconds, to think on this new revelation. "Probably a combination of them both."

Stiles knew what was going on and decided to play along. "Aren't you guys just going to google it for the information instead of doing this twenty questions thing?"

Hank chuckled. "Now where would the fun be in that. So Nick, we have a combination of a scandal and a serial killer case in California that caused national news and we paid attention to it."

Nick nods thinking. "That does narrow it down."

Hank goes back to reciting the town's name hoping to jog his memory. "Beacon Hills. Beacon Hills. Beacon Hills. It's just on the tip of my tongue."

"Serial killer, Beacon Hills, scandal, national press..." Nick looks at Stiles, "female killer?" Stiles twitched. Damnit.

Hank crows in joy, "Oooh, smart one Nick. So Beacon Hills, female serial killer, big scandal, and national press."

A loud barking voice erupts in the room. "STILES!"

Stiles jumps and falls off of the chair. Trying to pick it up again he overcompensates and falls again. Finally he gives up and just stands up brushing off his clothes and quickly walks over to his dad. "Hey dad. Now, whatever you might want to say let me first say that it wasn't my fault whatever you think that I did."

"Stiles," his dad sighs his name, "why aren't you in your seat?"

"They made me!" Stiles points accusingly towards Hank and Nick. "I was minding my own business in the seat as you told me to. I was just sitting down, bored out of my mind I mean really dad you leave me alone in a room to sit in a seat with nothing to occupy myself and no medicine and you think I'm not going to go stark raving mad I mean really dad –"

Stiles can see his dad losing his patience as his explanation gets longer. "Stiles."

"So I was just sitting there minding my own business and they called me over. You always told me to obey officers especially when they are telling me to do something. So I did. So if I disobeyed an order you gave me you only have yourself to blame as you told me the previous order – that of obeying cops' orders – years ago and so I figured that if I had to disobey one order over the other that the older one was probably the right one to follow and the new one was probably the one to–"

With frustration lacing every syllable his dad says, "Stiles."

Stiles knows that sound and says softly, "Shut up?"

"Yes," his father sighs out.

Stiles, however, needs to know if he is trouble and can't help but to ask, "Am I in trouble?"

"Stiles," his father grounds out.

Stiles can't let it go. "But it's a reasonable question. I mean I only did as you told me to. So I shouldn't really be in trouble–"

The entire time this conversation between father and son takes place the room had gone quiet as they witnessed what could only be described as a train-wreck. Stiles was full on flailing about like a fish out of water. It was the one thing to see him pacing back and forth like someone on cocaine, but this was something completely different. The hand waving and verbal vomit was like icing on the crazy cake.

Nick and Hank were taking it in stride as Nick had explained to Hank – that from what he observed from watching the kid sitting down and trying to act still and what Sergeant Wu had told them about the pacing – that the kid had some form of hyperactivity disorder and was unable to sit still. Hank didn't really believe it since the kid just seemed to be nervous. But seeing him now in his full spastic glory as he put the blame on them for him disobeying his father blew any doubts out of his mind.

Stiles' dad finally had enough and grabbed Stiles' shoulders and shook him just once while saying in a quiet commanding tone, "Stiles, enough." Stiles went quiet. He had a flashback to Derek speaking to him in that tone. For some strange reason it always worked when he was in one of his verbal vomit episodes.

Stiles noticed that someone was walking up behind his father. From the way that everyone was acting towards the tall man he would assume that it must be someone of higher rank. Stiles assumes he was attracted by the commotion going on in the room. He stops right behind his dad and his dad turned to the man and then back to Stiles. "Stiles, this is Captain Sean Renard he was explaining to me their case and whom I will be working with during my stay here. Captain Renard this is my son, Stiles."

Captain Renard held out his hand and Stiles shook it as the polite son of the Sheriff is supposed to do. It was at the very moment that his hand touched Renard's that he felt the deep-seated feeling of hostile warning, only it was more concentrated and stronger, that Stiles realized that this is where the supernatural psychic territorial warning was coming from that encapsulated the room. Instantly Stiles' eyes swerved to Nick who was sitting calmly at his desk talking to Hank.

Stiles eyes went back to Renard's and met his and he saw something funny. Not funny as in laughable, but funny as in odd, as in he wasn't sure what he saw. For just a moment Renard's eyes glinted and Stiles could have sworn they shined but nothing like what he was used to dealing with the werewolves. So, he wasn't sure he really saw anything at all. Except he noticed that Renard's eyes had met his directly after he looked at Nick and Stiles saw Renard look at Nick and then back to him. A strange grin or smirk seemed to start to come into being on Renard's face, but Stiles' dad interrupted their staring contest asking if Stiles was all right.

Stiles heard his name spoken by his dad in a careful concerned tone, "Stiles?"

It seems that Stiles and Renard had been shaking hands for longer than he thought and his dad found it odd for Stiles to stare up into someone's eyes, who wasn't Lydia, like he was starstruck.

Stiles didn't know what to do and he just said the first thing that popped into his head, "Pretty eyes."

Silence encased the room of those who heard that comment. Stiles went bright red and started to sputter out an excuse for his most recent and embarrassing verbal vomit episode. Stiles just knows that this is going to be a downward spiral of unmitigated embarrassment for everyone involved but he just can't shut up it's his default status when faced with horribly embarrassing moments, to just make them worse. "Uh, not that that I, I mean I'm not uh hitting on you or anything just that you have pretty eyes–"

Thank god for everyone involved that his dad woke up to his senses and slammed his palm against his son's mouth to stop the verbal explosion of embarrassment. Stiles, from his vantage point of being directly in front of him, could see that Renard found amusement in this incident. He wasn't smirking and his lips weren't twitching but his eyes glinted just like Derek's does when he finds something amusing, but because he has some sort of inability to visually show such due in part because he thinks he's some sort of tall dark and stoic melancholic long-suffering hero of a supernatural TV show. Angel maybe. But does that make Stiles Buffy? Or Cordelia?

Wait...what the hell is he thinking about? Angel? Buffy? Cordelia? He's not attracted to Derek...he's not. He likes Lydia. So there is no way that he is either Buffy or Cordelia... Nope, no way.

Stiles' dad interrupts his ramblings in his head. "We should be going now. We need to check in to our hotel and I think Stiles–" His dad shakes him a little bit while tightening his hold over Stiles' mouth. "–needs something to eat and take his medicine so he can probably think before speaking again." The last part was a dig to Stiles he just knows it was since his dad's voice went a bit deeper and his hand over Stiles' mouth increased in pressure just a little bit. "It was nice to meet you Captain Renard I look forward to working with your detectives on the case." It is at this point that Stiles' dad finally removes his hand and then starts to push Stiles out of the room. "Let's go Stiles."

Stiles pushes back against his dad a bit so he can wave bye to Nick and Hank and then lets his dad finish pushing him out of the room so he can be dragged off through the hallway and out of the building. Stiles just can't believe what this trip is turning into. His dad specifically had them leave Beacon Hills so that they could escape the supernatural – not that his dad knows that it's supernatural things killing everybody – so they could have some nice time in a new town to enjoy some peace.

Looking back in the direction of the detectives' room – as Stiles is dragged by his dad down the hallway on the way out of the station – Stiles has this feeling that things aren't going to go the way that they planned. A deep-seated feeling that causes his heart to quicken and his breath to catch and for Stiles to wish that Scott and/or Derek was there with him because he has a feeling he is going to need them.
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A Grimm Visit