"please, just let me help you"
"why should i? everyone i know either dies or thinks i'm a total freak show"
Georgia Ray is a social outcast. Nobody bothers to spare her a second glance, unless it's to roll their eyes or scoff. Living alone w...
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GEORGIA RAY HAD A SMALL frown on her face from where she stood in Derek Hale's loft. She was there with him, Stiles, and Scott to go over how they'd be rescuing Boyd and Erica. It was also the night of the full moon, something that Georgia felt clearly. Her teeth nibbled at her lip while her fingers tapped against her thigh.
Georgia figured Derek wouldn't care if she lit up a cigarette in his loft, but part of her was hiding it from Scott and Stiles, fearful of their reactions.
"Okay. You see this? This is how they got in. It's a rooftop air conditioning vent," Stiles placed a map out across the table, pointing around it with a red sharpie, "Leads down inside into the wall of the vault, which is here," he made a bright red circle, "Okay? One of the robbers was lowered into this shaft Now, that space is so small, it took him about 12 hours to drill into that wall, which is stone, by the way.
"Then throughout the rest of the night, they siphoned the cash up to the guys back on the roof through that one little shaft in the wall," Stiles slapped the map with one hand, "Boom."
"Can we fit in there?" Scott asked from Stiles' left. Derek was on Stiles' right while Georgia was bobbing her leg up and down across from them.
"Yes, we can, but very, very barely. And they also patched the wall, obviously, so we're gonna need a drill of some kind," Stiles rambled, "I'm thinking maybe a diamond bit—"
"Look, forget the drill," Derek cut off, leaning against the table.
"Sorry?" Stiles swiveled to send him a confused look.
"If I go in first, how much space do I have?" Derek slowly stood straight to his full height.
"What do you. . ," Stiles trailed off with a small scoff, "what do you think you're gonna do, Derek? You gonna punch through the wall?"
"Yes, Stiles, I'm gonna punch through the wall," Derek crossed his arms, a cocky and amused grin briefly crossing his face.
"Okay, okay, big guy. Let's see it. Let's see that fist. Big old fist," Stilws moved to unwrap one of Derek's hands, curling it into a fist, "Make it, come on. Get it out there. Don't be scared."
"Big, bad wolf," Peter mused from his spot on the stairs. Georgia almost forgot he was there.
"Yeah, look at that," Stiles then held his hand out in front of Derek's fist, not a wise move on his part, "Okay, see this? That's maybe 3 inches of room to gather enough force to punch through solid co—"
Derek slammed his fist forward, damn near breaking Stiles' hand. Stiles slammed against the table, letting out an ungodly cry. Georgia snickered at the interaction.
"What'd you expect?" Georgia watched as Stiles tried to shake it off.
