A/N: I've been working on this for a while now, but didn't want to start posting until I had it done. Well, obviously it's done. I'm basically playing around with the Internship, where Stuart is Stiles and Derek is part of the internship program at Google. This does take place in the Teen Wolf universe. Basically it's a future fic, where Derek didn't return to Beacon Hills after 3a. I used the dialogue from The Internship, but mostly to set the scene and on occasion gave Derek other characters dialogue because well I couldn't have him standing around saying nothing. Even if that is what he does on Teen Wolf. Stiles is a bit of a dick at the beginning of this, just like Stuart. I haven't seen season three so you'll have taken Stiles my whole explanation of 3b as literary licence, I took some liberties with what I did know.

And a special thanks to my buddy Ferret83 for answering my questions about the season.

Young Guns

This was all Danny and Lydia's fault. He'd been happily planning to return home for the summer, but no that wasn't good enough for them, no he had to make something of his life, like his dream of being a small town sheriff wasn't perfectly acceptable. It was freshman year all over again.

He'd been happily taking Psych and Introduction to Criminology, when Lydia and Danny - Well mostly Lydia, because apparently dating her for a year somehow meant that she controlled his life forever. - had stomped all over his plans and told him he needed to branch out, expand his horizons. That it was nice that he wanted to follow in his father's footstep, but he was worth more than that. The fact that he didn't want to expand anything, or be anything but a deputy then a sheriff, didn't seem to enter either of their heads. They were out of Beacon Hills and they weren't going back and they couldn't fathom why Stiles would want to.

Which was how he ended up strolling aimlessly around the Google campus in a daze of confusion. The place was insane, and awesome. Of course the place was awesome, it had a slide, free food and well….it was out of this world. No wonder it was voted the best place to work in America. It certainly seemed to be werewolf free, though Stiles had learnt a long time ago that you could never tell a werewolf by its cover. - Or any supernatural creature.

After signing in and being assigned to living quarters for the next month and a half, he headed for the meet and greet. He grabbed a coffee and settled into a corner, watching everyone mill about, chatting. Serious how much more like freshman year could this be? He'd felt out of place then too. Thankfully he'd headed to Colombia with Lydia, and surprisingly Danny, so he'd at least had a link with back home, but things hadn't been easy that first year. He'd never expected to be the kind of person to get homesick. Well he called it homesick. Deep down he knew it was the lack on connection to Scott and the pack. Insanely he missed the chaos that came with living in Beacon Hills.

He glanced up at the sight of the two much older guys milling around in Google hats, which he absolutely hated by the way. He hadn't felt so completely ridiculous since that time Scott made him strip naked (practically) and doused him in cat urine as bait for a mysterious beast stalking the preserve. Which by the way happened to just be a cougar. The one and probably only time that there actually was a logical, natural explanation.

They were called to attention by a well-spoken Indian guy and Stiles scrambled to grab a better seat, just as his phone vibrated in his pocket. Turned out it was Scott complaining once again about his wayward love life. Things had been so much simpler when he was in love with Allison and she was all he talked about. Oh, happy days. There was a twinge of pain at the thought. He swiftly replied to Scott's text, then turned his full attention to Roger Chetty's introduction.

When the man was finished, Stiles checked his email for the schedule and scrambled to his feet with everyone else. His eyes fixed to his phone as he made his way down the steps. He followed the river of egger cohorts out of the building and across the campus. Shooting a text off to Lydia as he walked.

Message:

Do you have any idea what you signed me up for?

Inbox: Scream Queen.

Yes, Stiles. I do. A future away from insane werewolf shit. You're Welcome.

Stiles shook his head and inhaled slowly. This was only for the summer, he told himself. It wasn't like he had to take the damn job. Hell it wasn't like he was even going to get the damn job.

_The Internship: Sterek Style_

The workplace seminar was kinda predictable and boring. It reminded him of sitting though one of Harris' classes, where he'd ramble on and pick on a single student to make an example. Back then it had often been him, now it seem Mr. Chetty had it in for the old guy behind him. Though in Mr. Chetty's defence, the guy and his friend did seem to be moronic to the extreme, and Stiles knew morons, he'd spent four years of junior high and two of high school with Greenberg.

Stiles jerked slightly as the dark haired older guy leaned into him, whispering; the guy's breathe brushing his neck.

"That being said, if you want something cold to drink, we'll hook you up."

"Okay, thank you. Just stop talking to me." Stiles whispered back.

"I'm your Billy Holden in 'Stalag 17'."

"I really don't get that reference." Stiles murmured back in a desperate plea to shut the guy up before he got him kicked out. Because seriously, that would just get him killed.

"Google it."

"I'll do that."

He refocused his attention and listened absently as Mr. Chetty rumbled through the rest of the rules, while Dumb and Dumber commented. He had to press his lips together to stop from laughing. How they'd gotten onto the program Stiles couldn't for the life of him work out. He had a brief thought that they might be moles, sent in by the powers that be to test them all, but he pushed that away as he watched Mr. Chetty getting increasingly frustrated with the pair. - Of course, maybe Mr. Chetty didn't know. Maybe they were here to test him and not the interns. It was plausible. He'd do it.

It seemed like forever before the seminar was over, no thanks to Butch and Sundance. Escaping as quickly as he could, Stiles headed to grab something to eat - Which he would not be taking home. - Before heading off to the next lecture. The day passed slowly but finally he was able to escaped back to his dorm room, where he spent an hour Skyping with Lydia, arguing over her bullying him into this insanity, and another hour with Scott, absorbing every wonderful moment of his best friends' angst filled love life like a starving man at a banquet. Before finally calling his dad.

"Seriously Dad, can't I just come home?"

"No." his dad insisted around food.

"What are you eating?"

"Salad."

"Liar."

"Prove it."

Stiles grunted down the line, "I can hear the ketchup."

"Listen, Lydia's right, this is a fantastic opportunity son and you've worked hard to get it. If you quit now, I won't protect you from that young woman."

"Well thank you." Stiles huffed. "What happened to always protecting me, no matter how old I get?"

"I met Lydia Martin. There isn't a police force, or army for that matter, in the world that could protect you from her."

Stiles chuckled. They turned the conversation away from the Stiles wanting to quit, to random gossip. Stiles filled his dad in on everything he'd done since arriving at Google. About the building and the people. About Dumb and Dumber, which his dad had scolded him for.

"They can't be that dumb, Stiles. They got the internship, didn't they?"

"Believe me, I'm questioning the vetting procedure. - Though I have a theory that they might be here to test us, or the supervisors."

"Then in that case, it would be wise to maybe be a little more….nice."

That was easy for his dad to say.

_The Internship: Sterek Style_

Day two started with breakfast of yogurt and juice. Coffee was a no no, though the smell was killing him. After he'd had a bad reaction to five straight night of studying, too much Adderall and too much coffee sophomore year of college, he's avoided coffee and caffeine like the plague. Then it was off to the welcome centre for team picking. Which having spent the previous day with half these people he was dreading more than a Succubus attack. Cause god, those things fuck you up man. The succubus, not the interns….well, maybe both.

Stiles settled back down in his seat, the one he'd been in yesterday and waited for everyone else to get settled. He pulled out his phone to find he had three texts.

Inbox: Scream Queen.

You quit, I kill you.

Inbox: Scott.

Just met this hot girl in the checkout line. Her names Tanya.

Inbox: Danny.

Thought I'd cheer you up.

Stiles smirked at the photo of a guy's ass, a rather fantastic one too. Danny had clearly taken it while waiting in line for something or other. He glanced up to see everyone was settled and Sid was introducing himself. Apparently he'd been working there for eight years, and it seemed to have warped his brain, if his introduction was anything to go by.

Message: Scream Queen

SERIOUSLY! Let me go home.

"You have five minutes. Pick your teams." Mr Chetty interrupted.

Stiles scrambled to his feet along with everyone else, he glanced around at all the others and sighed. He didn't want to work with any of these people. Hell he didn't want to be here. Why was he here? His phone buzzed with an answer to that question as he was listening to an Asian kid tell him he'd been voted most likely to succeed by his chess club.

Inbox: Scream Queen.

Quit whining Stilinski. Suck it up. Don't text me again until you've got the job.

He wasn't getting this job. He didn't want this job. Blowing out a breath, he turned and stomped down the steps, sitting down once again, his thumbs working over the keys as he shot a text to Scott.

Message:

Is she evil?

Inbox: Scott.

No. That was like once Stiles. Once.

Inbox: Scott.

Lydia said I can't text you until you stop bitching.

Stiles huffed, rolling his eyes. That woman was going to be the death of him.

Message:

Come on Bro.

Inbox: Scott.

Sorry man. You know Lydia. She's probably got our phones tapped. Shit, I just got a text from her. Good luck with the job. I'll talk to you in a few weeks.

Message:

Weeks?

There wasn't a reply and Stiles grumbled under his breath as he slouched against the steps. He turned at the sound of someone yelling to see one of the team managers pointing at him. But his eyes didn't widen at the revelation that apparently he was suck on a team with Rocky and Bullwinkle.

He stared past the three to the back of the hall where a guy was stood in the shadows, hands thrust deep in the pockets of his jacket, jaw clenched tight, just like the first time they'd ever met. Stiles shook his head, blinking rapidly. There was no way he was seeing who he thought he was seeing. Not in a million trillion years. It just wasn't possibly. He opened his eyes and looked again, and there he was, still there. Still the creeper. Derek fucking Hale. He opened his mouth to say something, scrambling to his feet and almost tripping over himself, but was cut off when the team manager waved for them all to follow him.

Stiles didn't move at first, his eyes locked on the descending figure. He looked the same. Like he'd been frozen for the past five years. Stiles inhaled sharply as Derek walked past him, his eyes locked in front of him. Stiles didn't exactly expect the guy to welcome him with a bro-hug and a how you doing, Stiles had only saved his damn life….twice. But Derek's blatant snubbing was like a punch to the gut that made him gasp for air.

He followed after him, a deep frown on his face. It seemed the years had made Derek Hale a bigger jerk than when he'd left Beacon Hills five years ago.

_The Internship: Sterek Style_

This was not going according to plan. He'd know it was going to be different to other jobs. It's what Google were known for, but he hadn't expecting the insanity. - And he knew insanity. - He also hadn't expected to bump into a familiar face again. Though he'd known Stiles was there yesterday when he'd caught his scent on the air. He'd sort him out with his eyes during the previous days welcome party and had then avoided him. He'd then spent the night weighing up whether to just leave and try something else, but Cora had insisted.

"He probably won't even remember you, Derek. - It's been five years."

That hadn't made him feel any better, and it certainly hadn't convinced him to stay. He didn't know what had done that. Just like he didn't understand why he hadn't teamed up with another group.

"Okay! Let's get some meet and greet going up in this heezy!" Lyle exclaimed enthusiastically.

Derek pulled up a chair and slouched into it, his gaze locked to the floor, for the most part. He did occasionally lift it to glance at Stiles, who was slouching lazily on the couch across the room, legs spread, and attention fixed on his phone. He was probably texting Scott.

"Is Lyle always going to be referring to himself in the third person?" Stiles asked; lifting his gaze from the phone for a second. "Because if he is, I might want to punch Lyle in the face."

Derek heard Lyle's heart skip, embarrassment and discomfort seeping off him. Derek turned to fix Stiles with a scornful glare. Clearly the boy wasn't the same fun, friendly kid he'd known in Beacon Hills. But then that place had a way of screwing with people. Derek's life had significantly changed since leaving. He'd gone back to college, finished his degrees. While Stiles it seemed had become a jerk.

Stiles met his gaze challengingly for a moment before dropping it back to his phone, as Lyle apologized for his nervous behaviour.

"Who's next?" Lyle laughed awkwardly, dropping down onto the edge of the desk nearest Derek.

"My name is Yo-Yo Santos." the Asian kid introduced; getting to his feet.

Derek tried not to wrinkle his nose at the overpowering scent of fear as one of the older guys raised a hand to him.

"Wow. Yo-Yo, Easy buddy. I come in peace."

Derek looked at the kid; his stomach turning.

"Did you get beat up a lot in school?"

"I was home schooled by my mum."

Derek's fingers curled into his palm and he forced back the growl that threatened to free itself. His eyes flickered over to Stiles who met them, a silent message passing between them. They'd always share the desire to protect.

"…She provided me selflessly with the milk of her bosom till I was seven."

Derek and Stiles shared another look across the room. One of discomfort and slight queasiness.

"Actually, the science isn't quite definitive on that."

Derek watched Stiles hands moving and he forced back the smirk, he was checking it. It seemed some things hadn't changed. Stiles was still a research bunny.

"Wrong." Stiles announced after only a few moments and Derek bit the inside of his lips.

"Sorry, what was that?"

"Wrong. The teat or baba thing. It's wrong." Stiles insisted firmly. "I just Googled it. So you're wrong."

Derek rubbed at his jaw, covering his mouth to conceal the grin he couldn't hold back, while everyone stared at the pair.

Stiles looked around at them all, shifting in his seat. "Oh yeah. Uh….I'm Stuart."

Derek lifted a brow at the name and noted that Stiles heart skipped at the lie, quickly hiding back behind his phone. Derek had never asked about Stiles name, though he'd known it wasn't Stiles. That was just stupid. Stiles Stilinski? The Sheriff didn't strike him as the type to give his son a name like that. Derek suddenly found himself very interested in Stiles name. So much so he pretty much phased out for the next ten minutes as everyone continued talking around him.

Derek was pulled back into the conversation by Stiles once again being a jerk

"…..you big tree? Two-sixth of our team are made up of two old guys who don't know shit." Stiles spat venomously.

Derek really wasn't liking this new Stiles. Not at all.

"Okay guys…."

"Where you born a jerk or did you take lessons?" Derek heard himself remarking.

Stiles met his gaze intensely. "Me?" he scoffed.

"Yeah, you."

"Wow." Stiles shifted to the edge of his seat and leant close. "As a matter of fact I did get lessons. There was this guy I knew once who was a way bigger jerk, actually. So big a jerk in fact he split town without as much as a goodbye."

"It was probably to escape you." Derek shot back. He had said goodbye. - Well, he'd told Scott. It wasn't like he and Stiles were even friends.

"Blow me, dickwad." Stiles spat; flipping him off.

"Whoa, okay guys, stow the sexual tension." Nick chuckled light-heartedly. "What's your name man?"

"He means beside dickwad." Stiles grumbled.

"Derek. Derek Hale."

"Well I for one am very happy to have three very strapping mature gentleman on the team." the girl announced; smiling at the three of them. "Oh, I'm Neha Patel…."

Derek drowned her out as she began to ramble on about Cos'play, whatever that was. He didn't really need to listen to their introductions, he'd known who they all were before they'd even been teamed up thanks to his enhanced hearing. His attention instantly slid back to Stiles, who was watching him over the rim of his glasses. When the hell did he get glasses?

_The Internship: Sterek Style_

Okay so he knew he was being a jackass to Nick and Billy. He knew it but he couldn't stop, despite the fact he was still somewhat convinced they were moles. Actually that might be why he was being a jerk. That way he wouldn't get the job he didn't want and Lydia couldn't kill him for it. The fact was he was feeling his bad Karma sneaking up on him, probably because neither Scott nor Lydia was answering his texts. Frankly his best friends should know better than to cut him off like this.

As for why he was being an asshole to Derek, well that was easier to explain. He was pissed at him. Sure they hadn't been friends, but they had been thought a ton of shit together and he had saved the bastards life, was it too much to ask for a goodbye? Was it? He didn't think so. And Nick's crack about the sexual tension, that had just hit a nerve, because Stiles wasn't going to deny that he may have, at one point, possibly had a bit of a crush. - Well, he'd definitely looked. But Derek, he hadn't so much as batted an eyelid in Stiles direction. Beside Stiles wasn't his type. He wasn't a psychopathic serial killer. - Well at least not….you know, intentionally.

Stiles glanced sideway down the line of seat to where Derek was sat listening to the lecture between Yo-Yo and Neha. He still had no idea what the guy was even doing here. Derek had never struck him as the computer programming type. Hell they'd had to call Danny to find out who'd sent that message to Allison back in junior year, and Derek had spent that entire three hours sat in the corner of his room glaring at him and Danny like they were secretly planning to have him shipped off to a testing facility.

Obviously Derek sensed him looking because he turned to stare at Stiles, so Stiles turned back to listen to the lecture, thankful he was recording the thing on his phone for later.

_The Internship: Sterek Style_

Stiles was heading back to his dorm after grabbing something to eat when he felt Derek behind him. Well it wasn't that he knew it was Derek, he'd just gotten incredibly good at knowing when he was being followed and logic said the werewolf was the only one with a reason to do so. He slowed his pace as they reached the corner of a building and then stopped, turning to meet the man's intense green eyes. - Man he'd forgotten how those things caused his breath to catch. - Realizing his heart was probably pounding, he quickly tried to calm it, using the technique Scott had taught him years ago.

"Stuart?" was the first thing Derek said when he stopped.

"Yes."

Derek raised a brow, unimpressed.

"I've been using the name since starting college. It was Lydia's idea."

"Of course it was. - What was wrong with Stiles?"

"I don't know, you tell me?" Stiles replied; instantly mentally kicking himself. "New life, new name. Stuart's more grown-up."

"It doesn't suit you." Derek remarked after a short pause.

Stiles stared at him, mouth slightly hanging open with shock.

After a few minutes Stiles shook himself. He wasn't a babbling sixteen year old anymore. He was twenty-one. He was a grown-up. He could vote and drink and get laid. "What are you doing here?"

"Same as you obviously."

"Since when were you a computer genius?" Stiles scoffed; folding his arms over his chest.

Derek lent his shoulder against the wall. "I'm not. I took computer science when I re-enrolled in NYU to finish my masters."

"You've got a masters?" Stiles gapped. "In what?"

"Classic Literature and Folklore. - As well as degrees in English and Mathematics. - Though I'm not a genius like Lydia."

"I don't know whether to be amused or outright stunned? - Wait, NYU? You went back to New York?"

Derek shrugged. "I wasn't going to. We….Cora and I, we settled in Wyoming for a while but we both found it too quiet, so we headed back to New York."

Stiles shifted on his sneakered feet, burying his hands into his jeans. "I'm at Colombia. - With Lydia and Danny." he added quickly.

Derek frowned down at him. "Really? - I would have thought you'd stay closer to home."

Stiles shrugged a single shoulder. "I needed a break. Dad and Scott pretty much marched me out of town at gunpoint. - Well, claw point in Scott's case." he chuckled. "They said they wanted me to be normal."

"You? Normal? Is that even possible?" Derek teased.

"Bite me jerk."

Derek raised a brow questioningly.

"I didn't mean that as an invitation." Stiles quickly added. "So Cora?"

"Is fine. She settled into college in Miami."

"Miami? Wow, party college."

Derek clenched his jaw tightly; unimpressed by the statement, as true as it was. "Scott? - How's he dealing with….everything?"

"If you mean is he a better alpha than you, the answer's yes. But then he couldn't be worse now could he?"

"God you've become an asshole, Stiles." Derek narrowed his eyes at the younger man. "I don't like it."

"Yeah well, I don't give a shit what you like." Stiles huffed, turning to walk away.

"And give Nick and Billy a break, they're here for the same reason we are!" Derek called after him.

Stiles kept walking, his fingers tightening around the straps of his bag. "Whatever!" he threw back over his shoulder as he turned around another corner.