What Could Be

The Hunter and The Wolf

It was a dark and stormy night. Christopher Argent was walking to his Paris loft much too late to stop and get any sort of dinner. He was hungry and dying of thirst. He'd been out all night hunting werewolves. It was dirty business, difficult to get done but even more difficult to manage with his dating life. The dating life he didn't really have. Between werewolf hunting, dealing with Isaac's sarcasm, and mourning the loss of his beloved daughter, Christopher didn't have enough time for a love life.

But things were about to change.

The rain was coming down so hard that he could barely see in front of him. It might have been fate or just a miraculous coincident that Christopher Argent stumbled upon a tiny little coffee shop owned by none other than the powerful Derek Hale to escape the storm outside.

The bell rang to announce Christopher's entrance. "Hello? Anyone here?" he called.

A dashing young man clad in head to toe leather strutted out of a back room. "Hello sir."

Chris was at a loss for words. "Hello, I just came in here to get out of the rain. Are you open?"

The barista's smirk was growing wider by the minute. "Of course. Take a seat."

Chris nodded, sitting in the nearest booth. "I'll have a coffee, black."

"Coming right up," he called, tying a much too small apron onto his muscular body.

It wasn't long before the coffee was done and Chris was seated across from the man.

"Do you usually sit with your customers?" Chris asked.

The barista shrugged. "Only the hot ones."

Chris was taken aback, but he was never one to be shy. "You aren't so bad yourself, Mr..."

"Ah," the barista grinned, tapping his name tag. "The name's Derek, but you can call me Papa."

Chris chuckled, not quite sure if he was serious, but played along. "My name's Chris, but you can call me anytime."

"I will," Derek smiled, flashing what looked to be fangs. "Just give me your number."

Chris had to do a double take. Was this man really a werewolf or did Chris just spend too much time with them?

"You okay there?" Derek asked.

Chris nodded, shaking off the strange feeling. "I'm fine."

"So your number?" he asked, smirking.

Chris jotted it down on a napkin. "Use it whenever."

"Oh I will." He wrote his own number on a new napkin and handed it to Chris. Then he looked out the window. "Looks like the rain's stopped.

Chris shrugged. "Looks like it."

"Want another coffee? A biscuit? A scone?"

It was Chris's turn to smirk. "Trying to hold me hostage?"

Derek leaned forward against the table. "What can I say. I am a clingy guy."

But before they could say anymore, a loud crash sounded behind them. The window.

"Heck off, Peter!" Derek yelled towards the noise.

Chris stood up, pulling out the knife in his boot. "Who's this?!"

The buff man that had crashed through the window was panting heavily and covered in blood.

"Peter," Derek practically growled, "I said HECK OFF!"

"I don't take orders!" Peter growled back.

It was then that Chris knew what was happening. Both angry men stared changing, morphing, their hair and faces become animalistic, wolf-like. Werewolves. That's what they were. Chris knew them all too well.

He was torn. He didn't want to ruin what could be something special, but he didn't want to go against his code. He looked Derek in the eyes, sadness and longing and... hope lingering in them. He'd come back. For Derek, Chris would come back.

Chris left, not saying another word, but clutching the napkin with Derek's number on it for dear life.

Maybe he'd found true love.