Sterek One Shots

Avengers [Part 2]

"You really don't trust them to keep me safe?" Stiles sighed, sitting on his bed, watching Derek pace back and forth in front of him. 

"Of course I do Stiles, I don't like the idea of not being there with you. I know how you are, and you'll end up finding trouble when there shouldn't have been any." Derek muttered, stopping in front of the younger male. 

"So you're mad that Bucky's going and not you?" Stiles snickered, laying back on the bed. "Derek, you two need to get over this little feud the two of you have about me. Bucky is like the grandpa I always wanted, just younger and liked to sit and watch me work, read, or do old man things with me. You're my best friend. He isn't going to replace you." Stiles felt the bed sink next to him.

"I just don't like the thought of not being the one protecting you." 

"Then think about the thought that I'll have Captian freaking America protecting my ass. America's ass will be protecting my ass." Stiles grabbed Derek's arm, pulling himself up, "Do not ruin this for me." He warned. 

"You know I worry about you. I didn't drag you out of that hell hole to lose you," Derek sighed, resting his head on Stiles' shoulder. 

"I know, and you aren't going to."

Ω∆Ω

"How does it fit?" Tony asked, watching Stiles move around in his suit. It was much like Nat's having just about anything he could think of in ways of protection. It was bulletproof, built-in tasers in the fists, heated, and waterproof; the list goes on, and Stiles couldn't even begin to imagine how to trigger half of it. 

"Great, surprisingly. I always thought these suits would be uncomfortable. I feel like I'm in heaven." Stiles grinned, pressing a button on his wrist that opened up a screen. "Oh, that's cool."

"That's part of your infiltration, and these," Tony held out a box to Stiles. Stiles popped it open, showing a pair of glasses that looked like Tony's, "Are for more in-depth work. You've seen how the suit works; this links you right to Friday and will give you information on anything you could need." 

Stiles felt his jaw fall open as he slowly set the glasses on the bridge of his nose. They lit up, and Friday greeted him. "You'll need a name for when you're working; I don't think going around and being called Stiles will intimidate anyone." Tony chuckled, and Stiles looked around the room, nearly tripping over a chair. "Remind me to make sure you can't fall and kill yourself when you get back. Many things to work on still." 

"This is amazing, Mr. Stark. Are you sure I'm worth all of this? I could go in normal clothes, honestly." Stiles held his breath, feeling as if it was all a dream. 

"Yeah, kid, you are. I didn't take in you and the wolf for nothing. Now get moving to the airstrip; he's taking off in ten with Nat and Clint. You won't see him until you get back in two days." Tony nudged the kid out of his lab. "Friday, I'm not regretting this, am I?" 

"I cannot answer that, sir." Tony scuffed that the answer and watched the camera. 

Ω∆Ω

"Derek!" Stiles shouted, catching the jet as the doors were ready to close. 

"Hey," Derek smiled as Stiles jumped into his arms, hugging him. "I like the suit; it's really you." 

"Thanks; Tony says it's a prototype; he wants to see how I do before making any adjustments," Stiles took a step back, catching Nat in the jet; she smirked at him. "Be careful, don't get shot, don't hurt anyone unless you have to." 

"I'm going with Nat and Clint; we always have to hurt someone. But I'll be careful. You too, I know it's a simple mission, but it's your first." Derek sighed, poking at Stiles' suit. 

"I've been training with the best. And again, I'll have America's ass protecting my ass." Stiles smirked.

"Derek, we've gotta go," Clint asked, starting the jet. 

"That's my cue."

"There better not be a scratch on you when I see you," Stiles stepped closer to Derek, pressing a kiss to his cheek before pushing him to the jet. "You know what to do if he acts up," Stiles shouted to Natasha. 

"Of course." 

Ω∆Ω

Stiles sat nervously next to Bucky in the small cafe in Eastern Europe. Steve was out scouting the warehouse they needed to get into before Bucky was to escort Stiles into the location. "If you keep looking around like that, you'll blow the cover," Bucky whispered, kicking at Stiles' foot under the table. 

"Sorry," Stiles muttered, looking down at his empty cup. 

"It's clear, let's move," Steve said over the coms, and Stiles slowly stood from the table, walking out a few minutes before Bucky meeting him behind the cafe. 

"You'll be fine. Just do you," Bucky said, throwing his arm around Stiles' shoulders. 

"Yeah, do me, you realize who you've said that too right?" Stiles chuckled as they approached Steve. 

"Yes, I do, a genius kid who could rival Tony Stark." Bucky rolled his eyes, pushing Stiles forward gently. 

"Okay, Friday, show me the goods," Stiles whispered, tapping on the side of his glasses and tapping his wrists together to show the monitors on his suit. 

"The door seems to be reinforced steel; Mr. Barnes should be able to open it," Stiles scanned over the hologram of the door when something odd caught his eye. 

"Guys, this isn't what we thought it is," Stiles looked up at Steve, "You can't see it very were, but there's a small signature of explosives built into the door. Whatever this is, whoever it is, they want us to set off this door."

"Are there other entrances?" Steve asked, sharing a look with Bucky. 

"Friday, give me the underground within five miles," Stiles ordered, watching the map scan. "There's an exit; it looks big enough to move trucks in and out of, around three miles west. Two blocks over is a man entrance that leads into the building."

"Let's move."

"We've got company. Trucks pulling into the building now, three of them bringing in around fifteen men. Whatever is on those trucks, let's put it this way, it's not going to be pretty," Stiles stopped the men looking up from his map, "We should call the others, I know you guys are super-soldiers, but this is over our heads now." Stiles stood, pulling his glasses from his face resting them on his head. 

"If we don't go now, we lose them. We can't let them leave with whatever is on those trucks," Bucky grunted.

"They just got here; what says they're leaving anytime soon?" Stiles asked. 

Stever grabbed Stiles shoving him into an alley, and covered his mouth. "Them." Stiles' eyes went wide seeing some very rich-looking men walk up to the warehouse, adding the body count to almost thirty with the number of guards they brought with them.