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derek hale

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It's been a long time since she's done this sort of thing. Monogamy got her out of the game, so to speak, and it isn't like she's had much of a chance to adjust to her newly single status. Rebounding, as she'd so directly put it earlier, though, seems like the best way of dealing with that. Molly has no desire to dwell and mope, or even to consider why her first instinct might be to do so. The fact that she isn't the only one of them in that position, though she doesn't know the specifics of Derek's situation, makes her feel a little better, a little less guilty, about having gone out tonight intending to do exactly this. She might approach it all significantly more cautiously than she would have when she was younger, but she still knows what she wants, and right now, it's to not have feelings about her boyfriend having disappeared and all the baggage that comes along with it by going home with someone else.

Besides, Derek is gorgeous and seems nice, and though a few years ago the prospect of sleeping with a werewolf might have freaked her out, she's been in Darrow long enough that she's pretty used to the idea. Maybe not in this specific context, but enough that she doesn't think much of and isn't fazed by it now.

"Will you judge me too much if I want to tell someone where I'm going?" she asks, wincing good-naturedly through her smile as they step out of the bar, the summer night warm and starlit. "Not that I think you're some kind of creep or anything, just, you know. Can't be too careful." She learned that the hard way, something she doesn't particularly relish mentioning, but knows she probably has to. Just like the fact that she's rebounding, it's better just to get that out in the open.

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“Oh, yeah. Of course. Whatever you need to do,” Derek says easily, feeling his cheeks flush a bit because something like that never occurred to him. “We could go to your place, if you’d rather.”

He isn’t nervous, per se, but this isn’t something that he’s used to doing. Suddenly it feels like maybe he should tell her that, in the spirit of honesty. So they stand there on the curb and Derek reaches up to rub at the back of his neck.

“I don’t really do this,” he admits, chuckling softly as he looks over at her. “I know that sounds like a line, but— it’s all kind of new to me.” But he wants it, he realizes. Molly is gorgeous and she would be a nice person to spend an evening with, whatever they end up doing. “So, whatever you need— yeah. Just let me know.”

"I don't really do this either," Molly replies, her expression a little sheepish and a little pleased. Just like the fact that they're both rebounding, it helps a little having that common ground, making her feel a bit less self-conscious. She may have used to do this sort of thing all the time, but that hasn't been the case in ages now. Even with it having been her first instinct tonight as a way of dealing with what's happened, she's not accustomed to this anymore, those instincts rusty. "At least I haven't in a long time. My place... used to also be my boyfriend's place, but he just disappeared, so."

Ordinarily, she would want to go back to her own apartment, to have the security of being in her own territory, so to speak. As it is, though, she doesn't want to be around Stephen's stuff, sleeping with someone else in the bed where she fell asleep with him last night. It would just be too depressing.

"But thanks. For understanding. As long as I can text somebody an address, we're good."

The news doesn't exactly surprise Derek. He had guessed it just by the heavy tinge of sadness on her scent. Derek swallows hard and huffs out a breath before giving her a sympathetic smile.

"So did my fiance, a while back," Derek offers with a shrug of his shoulders. "And I moved out of our old place entirely."

They really are going through something similar, and maybe it's good that they've found each other, if even just for an evening. They are uniquely suited for each other, because they both know what the other is trying to forget.

"Sure. I'm Derek Hale, and I own this bar. And--" he tells her, pulling out his phone to request a car. Before he makes the final call, he holds out the phone for her to see the address. It all seems kind of matter of fact, but Derek is happy to do what he can to make sure she feels safe. It's also a little comforting to have it laid out that it's just for tonight, with no expectations after. He isn't sure that he could handle expectations right now.

"You can tell them that I'll have you home after breakfast," Derek tells her with a smile. "I make a pretty good spread."

Molly returns his smile. It's a heavy subject, but it's good to know it's not just her, and to have all of this covered ahead of time. They don't need to dwell on the matter — at least, she knows she wouldn't want to, and she'd guess the same is true of him — but it does help to be approaching this from the same sort of place. "That's the plan for me, too," she says with a nod. "Just haven't had a chance to go apartment-hunting yet." There's a lot of shit she needs to do, pieces that need to be picked up. Spending her night with a stranger instead might be irresponsible, but there will be time for all of that later. No one can move that quickly, anyway. She's honestly pretty sick of having to do so, but she wants even less to stay in an apartment that used to be Stephen's.

Grateful, she copies down the address he shows her into a text that she sends to both Marcus and Clarke, knowing that they'll both understand her instinctive concern. Maybe it's overkill, but she would rather lean too far in the direction of paranoia than start getting reckless about this sort of thing.

"I'll let them know," she says. "And thanks again. I really don't think you're, like, some kind of serial killer or something, but... I did once accidentally date a serial killer, so, you know. Err on the side of caution, and all that." She shrugs. It's probably an odd thing to be quite so upfront about, but she would have needed to tell him at some point anyway, so it may as well be now. "And so we're even, I'm Molly Stearns, and I run a political consulting firm."

"Really, it's okay. I take no offense," Derek assures her, because if this is what it takes for her to feel comfortable that's what he wants her to do. If she's being extra cautious because he's a werewolf then hey, that's fine too. It's better than her running in the opposite direction.

"Oh." Derek blinks at the news and he finds himself wanting to ask questions, but he doesn't. That must be a hard thing for her to talk about, and sometimes it's nice to just get things off of your chest without going too much into detail. "Me too, kind of. Accidentally dated a werewolf hunter."

It's not the best way of summing it up. He didn't so much date Kate as he was seduced by her while naive and underage, but she was a killer. Derek has no idea how far her body count extended beyond the eleven Hales, but he's sure it's staggering.

"Nice to meet you, Molly," Derek says with a laugh, shoving past that twinge of hurt to focus on the beautiful woman in front of him. The car pulls up and Derek opens the rear door for Molly, letting her inside before climbing in after her. There's a small flutter of nerves as they pull way from the curb, only because this is so new to him. It certainly isn't what he expected to come from the evening, but he's far from disappointed. He feels the urge to touch her, to bury his face in her neck and inhale her sweet scent, and the anticipation builds during the quiet drive.

Once they pull up to the lake house, Derek slips out of the car and holds his hand out to help Molly out. "Here we are. It's more house than I know what to do with, but it's a nice change of scenery."

It always feels a little bit like oversharing, like it's something she should keep locked away, personal and secret, despite the fact that the Bateman murders dominated Darrow's news cycle for a while some years ago. Molly has found that it tends to be inevitable, though, especially with anyone she intends to sleep with. In this case, she isn't expecting to be met with a fairly similar story. She doesn't know what happened, but it's not her place to ask; it's just a common ground of sorts that makes her feel all the more comfortable with the direction the night is heading. As with anything, it could just be a line, a way of putting her at ease, but she's not so paranoid that she would assume that. He's been straightforward so far, hasn't balked at the idea of her letting someone know where she'll be, and that says a lot, even if she knows from past experience that she can't always trust her own judgment.

"Kind of a shitty thing to have in common," she says, lightly teasing, at least as much as the situation allows. "But you get it, then." She doesn't know how far those similarities extend, but she imagines that he'd probably understand her instinctive caution. Hell, there are more benign dangers to be aware of, too, various types of fucked up in the scale between good guys and serial killers. Usually, she thinks, the ones who'd protest and call such precautions excessive are ones who might fit somewhere in the middle there.

So far, this seems like a good thing. Certainly it's helping take her mind off today's turn of events, which is exactly what she'd been looking for. When the car stops, she takes his hand as she gets out of the car, making sure all her belongings are with her before she shuts the door behind her. "It is nice," she says. "I don't get out to this part of town very often."

"I get it," Derek agrees, and that in itself is a certain sort of comfort.

"Yeah, I can't really live in the city. It's too loud for me," he tells her as they walk toward the front door, gesturing at his ears. "Werewolf hearing."

He unlocks the front door and turns the light on before gesturing her inside. The living area is kind of sparse, with just a generic sofa and a rarely used TV off in the corner. It's certainly nod fit to entertain, and Derek wrinkles his nose a bit as he over at Molly, reaching up rub at the back of his neck.

"I'm still getting settled," he says a bit apologetically, chuckling a little as he takes her coat to hang it in the closet near the front door. "I-- also don't really know how to do this, so-- do you want something to drink? I have some beer, or bottled water."

Derek has never been the type for casual sex. There has only been a few instances of it in his life, so he doesn't really know how to go about it now. He does know how to be charming, so he reaches out for her hand and gives her a smile. "Or, I did say I'd show you the stars."

"Is both an option?" Molly asks, half-teasing, in part to mask the fact that she doesn't really know how to do this, either. Given the common ground they've already found, she should have no trouble saying so, but she used to know how to do this. The scars Bateman left her with are more than just physical, though. Everything changed after that; her relationship with her body and with sex is a far cry from what it was when she was a twenty-year-old who willingly and without shame described herself as kind of slutty. A lot of that confidence is gone now. All the time she spent in a monogamous relationship doesn't make the whole rebounding thing come easier, either, though that's also a big part of why she wants to. "I could go for a beer while you show me the stars."

She wouldn't have minded jumping right into things, either, but she thinks they'll both be more comfortable like this. There's no real need to rush, anyway, when they've got all night ahead of them.

"Sounds good," Derek says with a chuckle, taking her hand to lead her into the kitchen. He grabs two beers and takes the tops off before handing her one. He doesn't think he would offer her another, not to be rude but because the alcohol doesn't do anything to him. If she was intoxicated and he wasn't, that wouldn't be right. So one more beer it is.

They head out onto the patio overlooking the lake. There is a nice sofa out here, covered in blankets with a small table stacked with books off to one side.

"I like it out here," Derek says as he drops down onto the sofa and gestures for her to join him. "The moon isn't very bright tonight. You can really see the stars."

"It's beautiful," Molly says, sitting down on the sofa beside him and then taking a sip of her beer. "I've lived in... well, the city part of the city so long that I'm not used to views like this anymore." She likes it where she is, but then, she'd probably feel that way anywhere. It's hard to be picky when this is all she's got. The same line of thought is what's brought her here, in a way. She could be sad and mope and miss her just-disappeared boyfriend, or she could go out and do something fun, make the most of the fact that she's still here. This is nice, too — a weak adjective, maybe, but a hell of a lot more comfortable than a hookup with someone she met earlier tonight easily could have been. She appreciates that.

"Which, I mean, it's fine, I don't mind it, but this is really something."

"I lived in Manhattan for a few years," Derek says as he takes a sip from his beer. He rests his other arm on the back of the sofa, just behind her head, and after a moment he lets his hand drop to rest against her shoulder.

"It's a fun place, but my senses felt like they were on overdrive the entire time." They had only lived there because Laura wanted to, and Derek would have done anything for his big sister even before he was weighed down with guilt. "So, for me it's better out here. I can actually relax."

His hand glides lightly down her arm, and Derek turns his head to give her a charming smile. "Are you cold? You could move closer. I'm pretty much a walking furnace."

"I think Manhattan is enough to make anyone's senses be on overdrive, whether they're heightened or not," Molly agrees with a slight laugh. She's never lived there — she wouldn't have wanted to — but she's visited enough times to understand why that would be the case. Darrow seems pretty tame by comparison, and she can still see how that would get to be a lot. For her, it's worked out better to be right in the thick of things, but she doesn't have anything like that to worry about. At least, with as confined as they are here, they've got some variety in their settings, though she'd have been grateful for it no matter what. "I lived in DC before I got here. Well, I went to school there. That feels like another lifetime ago."

Smiling at his offer for her to move closer, she does so, settling with her head by his shoulder. "You weren't kidding," she says. "Is that also part of the whole werewolf thing?"

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