It's official spaghettitacos won the pool on my not finishing this until the end of time...or August. It's only been eight months. Don't judge me. Enjoy!

/ / / 11 \ \ \

Stiles deliberately didn't look at Derek. He deliberately didn't think about what Cora had said because obviously Derek wouldn't want to go to Belgium with him when they had never even dated. He didn't think about what it would be like if Derek did come, he didn't think about having someone with him when he moved to a foreign country or about getting to actually, finally, date Derek. He didn't think about kissing him, or holding him, he didn't think about using the condoms Lydia bought him with Derek. He deliberately didn't think about a lot of things.

"That is a great idea," Scott said, excitedly. "Then Stiles will have someone with him."

"Stiles doesn't need someone to go with him," Derek said, frowning at Scott.

"Of course he doesn't need someone to go with him," Lydia said, rolling her eyes at Derek fiercely. "But if he's going to leave then you could go with him and stop making the sad, lonely, heartsick puppy dog eyes."

"I do not make puppy dog eyes," Derek defending, folding his arms across his chest.

Stiles let his eyes drift over the way Derek's shirt stretched to accommodate his muscles. He knew he'd let out a little noise when Derek turned and looked at him. Stiles had been so, so close to getting his hands on that body and now it had been yanked away from him and they were discussing all the ways that Derek didn't want to drop his life and traipse halfway around the world to have sex with Stiles. Not that it was only about sex. Sex would be good though…he knew it would. He'd been so close to having Derek…

Then Stiles realised everyone was staring at him and he was staring dumbly back at them.

"Uhhh, I can do this alone?"

Lydia sighed at him. "No one is saying you can't do this alone. The question is…do you want Derek?"

Stiles nodded, his eyes drifting back to Derek and his arms. Then he looked up at Derek's face and the distant look in his eyes. "I want to thank you all," Stiles said, looking at both packs, "because even if you all kind of made my brain explode it was a lovely thought and I really appreciate the sentiment."

"Stiles?" Scott said, frowning at him.

"And I appreciate the fact you all want Derek and I to be happy. But you need to stop meddling."

"We're not meddling," Cora said.

Stiles made a face at her; she just smiled back at him. "I would like to suggest you invest in a dictionary app…or even the book."

"Stiles?" Scott asked again.

"So," Stiles said, not looking at Scott. "I'm really glad that we got to do this for Christmas and thank you all but you need to back off. Derek is more than capable of making a decision for himself about what he wants to do and you all pressuring him isn't helping."

"We were only trying to do something nice," Allison said.

"And it was nice, I have a scarf to wear when it's cold in Belgium and a chess set to play and Golden Girls to watch. It's going to make being there a little easier."

"Stiles," Scott tried again, walking over to him.

"It's just big and scary and different but it's going to be great. Do you have any idea what I'm going to learn in Belgium? I mean assuming they still want me. It's going to be great and I expect everyone to come and visit me at some point. I'll show you around, we'll have waffles. It'll be excellent."

"There have been two Belgium Fields Medal recipients," Lydia said, looking at him strangely.

"Excellent. Hey, I see some unopened Christmas presents. That is completely unacceptable."

"Yeah," Jackson said, walking over to where he'd been sitting before. He threw himself down, dragged Danny down next to him and they started opening their gifts.

Stiles smiled and tucked the leather jacket behind his back as he watched his friends open their gifts.

He paid special attention to Danny who he'd picked in the Secret Santa. He didn't think the startlingly bright wrapping paper was hiding his identity very well. Danny winked at him before he pulled at the first bit of sticky tape and Stiles dropped his head down into his hand. "I got Dad to write the card and everything."

"The reindeer on the wrapping paper look like they're high," Danny said, holding up the present so everyone could get a look at the spectacular wrapping paper Stiles had found. "No one else would buy this."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "None of you have any taste."

"I think you need a dictionary too," Jackson threw out, not looking up from cutting through the metres of sticky tape on his cardboard box.

"So, what did everyone get?" Stiles asked, ignoring Jackson.

When they had all shown off their gifts, worked out who had given them, they all had a slice of Allison's pie amid a sea of wrapping paper.

"There is some left," Stiles said, looking at it. "Mind if I take some to my dad?"

"Of course," Allison said, cutting him a chunk that was too big for two people. "Do you want some cream too?"

"No, he's not allowed to have cream."

Allison laughed but handed him the plate with sad eyes. "Here you go, give your dad a kiss from me."

Stiles took it and smiled at her, loving her a little more for not telling everyone the Sheriff had already had pie. He said his goodbyes and slipped out of Derek's house and headed for the Sherriff Station and quickly as he could. He avoided looking at Scott, Lydia, and Derek as he said his goodbyes and extracted himself.

Stiles walked into the station to find his dad swivelling on one of the deputy's chairs. "Hey, Dad."

"Hey, Stiles. What are you doing here?"

Stiles shrugged. "I brought pie."

"You don't let me have pie."

"I'm contacting Belgium tomorrow to see if they still want to honour the offer. Tonight we need pie."

"I knew about Belgium."

"And Derek is in love with me."

"I knew that too."

"But he doesn't want to date me because I'm leaving even though I hadn't decided if I was really leaving. Now, I'm really leaving."

Sam sighed. "I didn't really understand that."

"He gave me this amazing leather jacket and I thought he was my Secret Santa because Lydia has been forging his handwriting. She and Cora decided they were going to set us up." Stiles' father frowned at him in confusion. "Basically, the pack came up with the excellent idea that they would all give me presents to show me how much they care about me and how much I mean to them. So they have been giving me all of the amazing presents that have been popping up. However, Lydia has been writing, or rewriting, all of the notes in Derek's handwriting because she and Cora thought we needed a push to get together."

"He's been pining over you for years."

Stiles threw his hands up in the air and started pacing. "Why did everyone know this and no one told me?"

"You were in New York studying."

Stiles sighed at his father. "Still a little heads up would have been nice."

Sam shook his head at Stiles. "I was never sure if you were going to come home. And it was never my secret to tell."

"Please don't use logic on me right now," Stiles grumbled throwing himself down into a chair.

"Stiles, what happened?"

"Derek gave me a really cool leather jacket that I'll never be able to wear now because when I saw his writing on the card I kissed him. He told me that he didn't want to date me."

"That surprises me."

"Apparently he knew I was going to leave so he's just going to wait for me."

"That's depressing."

"I know."

"I think he quite likes you, kid."

"But does he?" Stiles asked, standing up again. "Because he doesn't need to wait for me. Because him waiting for me like that isn't healthy. It's more like hiding."

"Hiding?"

"Well, okay, right, so, I had a crush on him in high school."

"You hid it so well."

"Okay, fine, everyone knew that. But, I got over it and I dated, even loved Flick, but he's just been here pining? That's not healthy – he should have got over me, dated someone else, moved on."

"He's dated."

Stiles sat back down. "Well that is new information."

"He was pining," Sam said, "not a monk. None of them were much of anything from what I could tell but he dated."

"I don't think that makes me feel better."

Sam pulled his seat out and rolled his way to sit in front of his son. "You care for him."

"It's not like I've been pining but he's always been there in the back of my head as…I don't know."

"A possibility that you wanted to have back."

"Are you being sensible and thoughtful with me at the moment?"

"Yes, it's called being a father. You might learn about it one day. Listen, if you're interested in him then go back there tomorrow and talk to him. He's stubborn."

"No shit."

"But so are you. So, you know how he feels now. What are you going to do? Are you going to mope about the fact he doesn't want to get involved with someone who is going to leave him when everyone he's ever loved like that has betrayed of left him or are you going to go and make something happen."

"It's unfair to do this to him if I'm leaving."

Sam nodded. "You're right, it is. What is completely fair is to see if he is still the person that made him a possibility you were holding onto or if time has changed things."

"That's sensible."

"I know."

Stiles sighed at his father and stood up. "For that, you get no pie."

"Stiles."

Stiles sighed and put the plate on the desk where his father had been sitting. "You're so lucky it's Christmas."

Sam shook his head at his son.

"If you want me to have children they are going to need a grandfather. And that means taking care of yourself until they are alive."

"Are you attempting to guilt me with non-existent grandchildren?"

"Yes."

Sam laughed and dug out two plastic wrapped forks.

"See, look at that. You guys get so much take away you keep extra cutlery."

"This is Parrish's desk. He's allergic to take away. He was a boy scout though."

Stiles looked doubtful. "Then let's eat pie and then we can play a couple of rounds of toothpick poker."

They ate pie, played a couple of rounds of poker until some idiot set his lounge room on fire and Sam had to go out on call and Stiles went home.

The next day he stopped at a bakery and bought the chocolate mousse cake that Derek couldn't resist eating and drove out to the werewolf's house. He sat himself in the middle of the lounge room and smiled as Derek glared at him suspiciously.

"I understand why you don't want to date me," Stiles said. "But I would like to spend some time with you before I go, if that's okay."

"You brought cake."

"I thought you might need some encouragement to let me stay."

"I don't need to be bribed."

Stiles smiled. "So, we can hang out?"

Derek looked sceptical but he walked over and sat down next to Stiles anyway. "Have you contacted Belgium?"

Stiles nodded. "I emailed them this morning. I don't know if the offer is still good."

"But you're leaving."

"I want to use this PhD practically for at least a while. It makes me sad to think it means I'm going to leave everyone…that I'm going to miss this chance with you."

"Want to watch something?" Derek said, looking away from Stiles.

Stiles sighed and nodded – this was what he had agreed to when he'd come. "Something funny."

They spent the rest of the afternoon together, mostly just talking about anything but the fact that Stiles was leaving and that they were both doing something likely to end in pain for them both. And even though Stiles knew it was a bad idea he still went back the next day, and the next, and welcomed Derek in when he came over. Everyday Stiles was a bit more sure that he was setting himself, and Derek, up for heartbreak. He might not have spent the last seven years pining but that didn't seem to have changed much at this point. Derek was still Derek and whether he was sixteen or twenty-five Stiles still wanted Derek.

He could see that Derek felt the same but like suckers they kept coming back for more.

Then on a rather boring Wednesday Stiles received the formal offer from the Royal Observatory of Belgium, or more officially the Observatoire Royal de Belgique. Derek was sitting on the Stilinski couch when he received the package; large and rather formal looking in a cream envelope. He didn't think they would even send him an offer like this – so far everything had been via email.

Derek had left with a horribly transparent excuse and Stiles had spread the papers out on his bed, reading them more than once before he passed out with the offer rolling around in his mind.

He woke with a start when something triggered his long-dormant spider sense to find Derek crouching in his window sill.

"Derek?"

"If you asked me to come I would."

"What?" Stiles rubbed at his eyes and tried to work out what was happening. Then with sudden breath-stealing clarity he understood. "You'd come to Belgium?"

Derek nodded. "Scott can take care of himself and the packs, Cora doesn't need me anymore, and…I would come with you."

Stiles smiled. "You need to come in."

"It's late."

"But I can't ask you to come to Belgium if you're on my window sill like a stalker."

"I'm not stalking you."

"Obviously not, just come in here."

Derek looked unsure and then he unfolded himself from the open window and stalked towards the bed, dropping his leather jacket on the back of a chair before he sat on the edge of Stiles' bed.

"I'd really like you to come with me," Stiles said, not reaching out and touching Derek even though he wanted to. "But I don't want to drag you away from your territory – I know how fiercely you've been protecting it since you came back."

Derek shook his head. "Scott has the support of all of the surrounding packs, his pack is strong. It's about time I got something for me. Cora is close enough to Scott's pack that she will have his protection if she needs it. I want you."

"Belgium is a long way away."

"You don't want me to come?"

Stiles gave up on keeping his distance – reaching out and pulling Derek into him. "We're buying your plane ticket as soon as you've kissed me."

Derek kissed Stiles, pressing him into the bed beneath him.

"Okay, I'll just get my laptop," Stiles said, wriggling under Derek when they paused to breathe. Derek growled and kissed him again instead.

/ / / Epilogue \ \ \

"Kun je ons naar het Hotel la Madeleine?" Derek said to the taxi driver as they left the Brussels Airport. Can you take us to the Hotel la Madeleine?

Stiles turned and gaped at Derek. "You speak Dutch?"

Derek smiled. "I've got an ear for languages."

"You never said anything."

Derek shrugged. "We've got time to learn all of that now. Je t'aime, Stilinski." I love you.

Stiles smiled and pulled Derek into a kiss.

/ / / The End \ \ \