Lydia stumbled through the driving rain, and she only knew she was going in the right direction because Cora still had hold of her hand. Normal rainstorms were bad enough, but she was reasonably sure this one had a supernatural elemental behind it, making it a thousand times worse.
Her clothes had been soaked within seconds. Her hair was plastered to her head. She was pretty sure she'd lost one of her favorite boots in the mud a hundred yards back.
Whenever they found this elemental, Lydia was going to jab her stiletto heel right into its eye.
"Where are we going?" she shouted over the roar of the rain.
"We're almost there!" Cora shouted back, which didn't answer Lydia's question and thus wasn't helpful in the least.
Before she could point that out, they stumbled right onto a cabin that Lydia had never seen before, and Cora elbowed the door open and led them inside.
It was not the best shelter in the world. Rain pounded at the sides of it and leaked through the roof, leaving puddles on the floor. But it was definitely drier and moderately warmer than outside right now, so Lydia would take it.
She shivered and rubbed her hands over her shoulders. "What is this place?"
"They used to have a bunch of cabins out in the preserve for campers," Cora explained as she walked the perimeter of the cabin like she was searching for something. "The people who owned it went bankrupt when we were kids, so Laura, Derek, and I commandeered some of the cabins to play in when we were little. I was hoping at least one was still around."
"Thank heaven they didn't all succumb to the elements," Lydia said dryly.
A gust of wind blew harder and the cabin rattled worryingly.
An inanimate object was living to prove her wrong. Lydia sighed. "How long can we stay here?"
Cora opened one of the unused cabinets and pulled out some cracked bowls, and started putting them under the leaks. "Until we hear from Derek or until the cabin falls down around our ears."
Lydia went in search of towels.
The only other door in the cabin led to a small bedroom that was maybe half the size of Lydia's own, with an equally microscopic attached bathroom. However, the bathroom did have towels, even if there were only three and they were all the cheap, scratchy kind that clearly hadn't been washed in years.
Lydia made sure no spiders had made a home in them before she took them into the living room and tossed them to Cora. "Here. So we can dry off ourselves and the floor."
Cora eyed the towels like Lydia had thrown her a live grenade. "Are you sure nothing's living in these?"
"I checked. And now I'll check to see if I can get a fire going."
Cora muttered something Lydia couldn't catch, but she picked up one of the towels and started drying off. Lydia went looking for firewood.
Of course, she couldn't find any, given that everything outside was soaked within an inch of its life, and nobody had left any inside.
Well, they could find a way to make do without a fire. Getting dry would help tremendously.
She stood up and stripped out of her shirt, and then kicked off her skirt. Her skin prickled with goosebumps the second the air of the cabin hit her skin, but once she toweled off and dried her hair a bit, that would change.
She turned to grab one of the towels she'd thrown at Cora, and saw Cora was standing there gaping at her.
Lydia snagged a towel of the couch and started drying off. Ugh, it was so scratchy. "What's wrong with you?"
"Why are you naked?" Cora croaked.
Lydia finished drying the rest of her body and wrapped her hair in the towel. "Because my clothes are soaked and I'm freezing? Relax, sweetheart, I've still got my bra on. You should probably strip, too, unless werewolf healing will keep you from getting sick from the cold."
Cora's cheeks turned red. "I—"
Lydia sighed and turned away. "There, you have some privacy. Really, I thought werewolves would be less prudish about this kind of thing."
"That's only if you can full shift," Cora muttered. "I can't."
"Hm." Lydia tapped the side of her mouth, mulling that information over. That was interesting. "But Derek can, and your mother could, right? And I remember Stiles saying Laura could. I wonder if that's an Alpha thing or something that's passed down genetically? Maybe you can full shift."
Cora grunted at her, which Lydia took to mean she didn't know and probably didn't appreciate the questions.
Lydia filed that away as something to discuss with Stiles later. "So, are you going to be this squeamish about sharing a bed?"
Cora choked. "Wait, what?"
Lydia sighed and gestured to the bedroom. "There's only one bed and, if it hasn't been taken over by spiders, it would be prudent to share it. Body heat, you know."
"Body heat," Cora repeated faintly.
Lydia rolled her eyes. "I'll get into it first."
"I'll take the couch," Cora said quickly. "It'll be fine."
That was the most idiotic thing Lydia had ever heard. She threw up her hands. "Fine. Do what you want, then. See if I care if you freeze to death."
She stomped into the bedroom and whipped back the covers on the bed, giving it a cursory check for any creepy-crawlies before she got in. The storm was still raging outside, she had no idea how long it would last, she had no idea where her phone was, and she had no idea how long it would take her clothes to dry. And the bed was cold and just about as scratchy as the towel.
Lydia curled up into a little ball under the covers, and then she could privately admit that it hurt that Cora didn't want to share the bed. Refusing to do so was stupidly illogical under the circumstances, so that meant there was a substantial chance Cora was refusing because she didn't want to get close to Lydia. Which was fine—Lydia wasn't foolish enough to think that just because she found someone attractive, it needed to be reciprocated, even if it usually was—but she had hoped Cora would be more upfront about it.
Then again, she was Derek's sister, and Lydia had spent the last year watching him and Stiles aggressively pine for each other without ever actually admitting they were pining for each other. It was painful to see. Maybe the Hales just didn't possess the ability to talk about their feelings as easily as they discussed virtually anything else.
The bed dipped behind her, and Lydia froze.
"I thought you'd be fine on the couch," she said when she found her voice again.
"I don't want you freezing to death on my conscience," Cora muttered.
"It's not that cold," Lydia said, even though she’d used the same argument to get Cora into the bed.
"Uh-huh." Cora sounded skeptical. "Don't we need to be a little closer to share body heat?"
Lydia's heart thudded at the thought, and she knew Cora had to have heard it. "Get as close as you'd like."
She did not expect Cora to put an arm around her and press close, but that was exactly what happened. Lydia raised her eyebrows, and she was very glad Cora couldn't see her face, because— "Are you completely naked?"
"I didn't expect to be taking my clothes off today," Cora grumbled. "And I hate bras."
Lydia snorted. "Why doesn't that surprise me?"
Cora's breath was warm on the back of her neck. "You know, Red, if you wanted to cuddle with me, you could've just asked."
"I did," Lydia pointed out.
Cora huffed. "You said it would be prudent to share a bed."
"Because body heat." Lydia sighed. "Really, sweetheart, do I have to spell everything out for you?"
She could swear she felt Cora smiling against her neck. "It would help, yes."
Lydia was pretty sure that Cora could smell how happy she was, but that didn't mean she had to show it. "I'll keep that in mind."
The rain lashed against the windows, and Lydia winced. "Do you think it'll stop soon?"
Cora shrugged. "Who knows? But there are worst places to be holed up during a storm. And right now, I'm having trouble thinking of some place better."
John fidgeted with his tie and scowled in the mirror. He'd been tying ties for years now; you'd think he'd be able to get it right on the first try.
He yanked it off and put it on again, his fingers fumbling with the fabric. For God's sake, this was ridiculous.
He stalked out into the living room, where Stiles and Derek were cuddled up on the couch watching Netflix, and held up the tie. "Do you really think I need this for a date?"
Stiles rubbed his nose with a tissue and frowned. "Aren't you taking Melissa to some fancy Italian place? Like, the kind that will kick you out if you don't have a tie?"
John rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm starting to regret these reservations."
"I've got a clip-on you can borrow," Stiles offered.
Derek gently swatted him across the back of the head.
Stiles squawked. "What was that for? Why are you hitting your poor, sick boyfriend?"
"Because my poor, sick boyfriend offered his dad a clip-on tie." Derek sounded appalled at the thought.
John glared at the tie. "At this point, I think I'd take it."
"You don't really need one," Derek said. "Just unbutton the top button of your shirt. It'll be fine."
"Yeah, just give Melissa a little peek," Stiles said, wiggling his eyebrows.
John rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "I thought you were going to bed early because you were sick."
Stiles balked. "I meant by, like, ten. It's only 6:45!"
6:45?! John glanced at his watch. "Aw, crap, I'm going to be late."
Stiles flapped his hands. "Go, go! Leave the tie, have fun with Melissa, be home by eleven."
John groaned. "Stiles."
"What?! You spent an entire year lecturing me and Derek every time we went out, turnabout is totally fair play."
John jabbed a finger at himself. "Dad." He pointed to Stiles and Derek. "Sons. That means I make the rules and you follow them."
Stiles sank into the couch and grumbled something about unfairness, while Derek's ears turned pink and he tried to hide it by resting his head on Stiles's.
John walked over and patted them both on the head. "Don't stay up too late. And I will be home by midnight."
"Just saying, if Melissa invites you in for coffee, it would be rude to—" Stiles started.
"Stop," John cut him off. "Please."
Derek let out a cough that sounded remarkably like a muffled laugh.
"Okay, fine, have a great night, Daddy-o," Stiles said. "We'll see you later."
"Good night, boys," John said, and hurried out the door to the car.
The drive to Melissa's house wasn't long. It was, however, just long enough that John's hands were shaking by the time he pulled into her driveway.
This was truly ridiculous. He hadn't been this nervous about a date since...since...
He looked down at his left hand, where the small band of skin at the base of his ring finger was still a few shades paler than the rest of his hand.
John rubbed the skin with his thumb. "I don't remember being this nervous with you."
He swore he could hear Claudia laugh. Okay. Maybe his memories were a little rose-colored.
He took a deep breath and knocked on the front door.
Melissa opened it, and John nearly swallowed his tongue. She wore a red dress and her hair loose and he was honestly having trouble getting words to happen.
"You look..." He stopped, because nothing he could think of sounded accurate. "Amazing," he finally finished. "More than amazing, actually."
Melissa laughed. "Why, thank you, Sheriff." Her eyes swept over him appreciatively. "You clean up pretty well yourself."
The back of his neck heated up, and John prayed she couldn't see that he was blushing. He held out his arm. "Shall we?"
Melissa slid her hand into the crook of his arm and stepped up close. "I think we shall."
"I have to warn you," John said, "I'm a little rusty at this dating thing."
Melissa squeezed his arm with a grin. "That's okay. I am, too. We'll figure it out together, yeah?"
John took a deep breath and realized that all his nerves were suddenly gone. "Yeah, I think we will."
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Though this rose is pretty,
It's not as pretty as you.
Love, Scott
Lydia smiled at the poem, written on a red piece of cardstock tied to a single red rose. It had been tucked under her windshield wiper, and she would bet her entire scholarship to MIT that Scott had called Stiles to tell him to put it there. Long-distance relationships were trying, but so far, she and Scott had made it work.
Still, she kind of wished they'd been able to be together for Valentine's Day. They had Skype plans for this evening, but she hadn't seen Scott in person since New Year's, and it would be spring break before she'd be back in Beacon Hills.
"Happy Valentine's Day."
Lydia whirled around at the voice. Scott stood behind her, hands stuffed in his back pockets and grinning like an idiot.
She couldn't believe her eyes. They were playing tricks on her.
She blinked, but Scott was still there.
Lydia launched herself across the space between them and into his arms. He caught her effortlessly and nuzzled into the hair right above her ear.
"Oh my God, you're here." Lydia tightened her grip around his neck. "You're actually here. When did you get here and how did I not know about it?"
"Derek picked me up at the airport last night," Scott said. "I spent the night at his place, and he dropped me off when he came to get Stiles half an hour ago."
"Oh my God," Lydia said again. "I thought for sure you would have Stiles help you with whatever you had planned."
Scott laughed into her hair. "Considering he's the one who actually lives with you, we thought it would be better if he didn't. Since it was supposed to be a surprise."
Lydia pressed her face into Scott's shoulder. She still couldn't believe he was here. "It was definitely that."
He kissed her temple and hugged her tighter. "Good. You ready to see what other surprises I have in store?"
Lydia pulled back so she could actually look at him and cupped his cheek. She smiled so hard her cheeks ached. "I can't wait."
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Chris Argent & Peter Hale, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Characters: Chris Argent, Peter Hale, Background Stiles and Derek - Character
Additional Tags: Not gonna like this is just Porn, with a tiny bit of plot, Resolved Sexual Tension, Derek has seen things, Peter is a Little Shit Petopher
Series: Part 1 of Disturbing Derek
Summary:
-When Peter said, "Fuck you Argent," he didn't think Chris would take him up on his offer.
Peter decided to ignore the small group and return to his book. At least he pretended to, at this point he couldn't even remember what he supposed to be reading about. Or “I was trying to read in the park and your stray football fucking knocked me unconscious” AU
Never wrote a Sour Skittles fic before so…I sincerely hope this is good and you like it, anon! ^^;
“Youwant Derek and me to do what?”
“Youknow…pretend to be a couple.”
Stilesshut his locker, face scrunched in skepticism and disgust. “Forwhat, again?”
Heknew what it was for. Scott had just explained it to him. He justwanted to hear it again because it sounded too insane to bebelievable.
Asource told Scott (Who knew his best buddy had sources? Not Stiles!)that there was a sudden black market for supernatural babies. Mostlywerewolves. Being Scott, the guy wanted to stop this unlawfulactivity at all costs. Which, for some reason, included Stiles andDerek pretending to be a recently wedded gay couple who couldn’t gothrough the usual means of adoption because, despite the laws sayingsame sex couples were legal to marry, people still were spiteful andwouldn’t allow adoption. Whereas this was a great plan, there wasjust one flaw.
Itwas a terrible plan!
Scottgave Stiles an exasperated huff, rolling his eyes and stuffing booksin his locker. “It’s not going to kill you, Stiles. You and Derekpretend to be a couple, I pretend to be your Alpha that’s giving myblessing for this and checking to make sure my precious packmatesaren’t being swept away by hunters, and we have the others sneak into save the babies.”
“Right.Okay. Admirable of you, Scott. Real admirable. Now, could you tell mesomething about your plan?”
“Sure.What is it?”
“Whyin the hell is it that Derek and I have to pretend tobe a couple?”
“Becauseyou two have this…weird chemistry that could pass off as a couple.”
Stilesclicked his tongue, resisting the urge to swat the back of his bestfriend’s head. “Thanks, Scott. I didn’t know you wanted me to rollin the sheets with Derek so badly.”
Theyoung Alpha pouted as if being told a kitten was kicked across thelacrosse field. “That’s not what I meant! I just mean that you twofight like a married couple, and-and that will make the act all themore believable!”
“Stillnot working out for you, buddy. Look, why don’t you have Lydia do it?She loves acting!”
“Iasked her already. She didn’t want to pretend to be intimate withDerek.”
“Whatabout Braeden? You could call her up. They were together for awhile.”
“She’sbusy. Plus she doesn’t want to rekindle those kind of emotions.”
“Whatabout Malia, then?”
“She’snot a good actor.”
“AndI am?!”
“Shealso doesn’t want to pretend she’d married to her cousin.”
Okay,that was a good reason. Stiles couldn’t blame her for that. “Whatabout Kira?”
“Derekkinda scares her.”
“What?He scares her? After he’s become Master Yen Sid?!”
“Yeah.And she’s so tiny…Derek could crush her by accident.”
“Ifhe could be gentle with Erica after she died…he could be gentlewith Kira. Easy.”
“Look,the point is that everyone opted out. And I have to be there. Theplace requires the Alpha of the werewolf or werewolves purchasing theblack market baby to be there, so I can’t pretend to be Derek’shusband. Besides, Derek’s all on board.”
“Waitwait wait…Derek’s on board with this?”
“Yeah?He actually was the one that came up with the idea.”
Wellthat explained everything. Derek always had horrible plans!Almost as bad as Scott’s! Stiles huffed, slamming his locker shut. Ifhe was going to do this, emotionally terrorize himself to do this forScott and those poor babies…he was going to need some bigger typeof initiative in case things went to hell. Which, knowing their luck,it would.
“What’sin it for me?”
Thelook Scott gave him was the one Stiles was used to. One that said‘you just bunted a puppy across the half line how could you do that’and then some. Sure, Stiles deserved it. He just made himself soundlike a major asshole. But he really wasn’t looking forward to thisplan going to shit.
“Stiles…babies.Little, innocent, helpless babies. That should be enough!” Scottcried out. “You can’t tell me that it’s not in your nature to feelsome maternal instinct or something! You’re like the pack mom! Anddon’t you feel it somewhere within you in one of those spirits thatwants to protect helpless, innocent, little babies?!”
“Okay,first of all, I am not the pack mom. How many times do I haveto say that? And second off, just because I am a Totem, aka master ofall these spirit animals I did not want, by the way please tellDeaton again for me to go fuck himself for saving my life that way,does not mean I have maternal instincts or needs. Quit stereotypingme now that I am officially a part of your little supernatural club.”
“But…Stiles…babies…beingtaken away from their families and sold illegally. To strangers. Tomaybe hunters to be killed. Tiny, little, cute, helpless, innocent,precious babies…”
Stilessighed, clicking his tongue on the roof of his mouth. Damn Scott andhis little faces and sad voices. Damn him. “You are starting tomake me feel like a terrible person here, buddy. But no. I wantnothing to do with this plan. It’s terrible and one of us is likelygoing to get killed. To death.”
“ButStiles!” Scott grabbed Stiles’ hands, jutting his lip out in theworse puppy dog pout in the history of puppy dog pouts. And by thatit was the best. “Babies…poor babies. Being soldlike…like dolls. Lifeless dolls that don’t have families.”
“Ohmy god, okay! I’ll do it! I’ll pretend to be Derek’sslice of sunshine! Just…stop trying to guilt trip me. You’reterrible at it.”
Theyoung Alpha grinned wide, eagerly pulling him into a suffocating hug.“Thanks, Stiles! You’re the best!”
Stilesrolled his eyes, hating himself for giving up so easily. He wriggledaway and punched Scott playfully on the shoulder. “Best to rememberthat, buddy. But, just to warn you, if I have to call Derek any petnames…I will personally kill you.”
“Okay.Got it. No pet names.”
“Nonewhatsoever.”
“Ofcourse! No pet names!”
“Andno hand holding. Okay? I may be off the relationship leash now…butI am so desperate that I’d willingly hold Derek Hale’s hand.”
“Gotit. No pet names – no hand holding. Easy enough to follow throughon.”
~+~
“Okay…so…yournames are what again?”
“AlphaDonatello Delgado. This is my packmate, Gabriel Lucas. And this ishis husband, also my packmate, Sparrow Alistair.”
Asif on cue, Derek and Stiles tightened the grip they had on eachothers hands, smiling lovingly at each other. The woman in charge ofthe interview, a fiery red head named Keaton (or at least what itsaid on the desk sign thing), smiled back at the 'couple’before pulling out some paperwork.
“Right.So, Mr. Lucas – Mr. Alistair. I will need to ask you a couple ofquestions before I ask your Alpha some questions and then go to theback and see if we have what you’re looking for. Does that soundreasonable?” she inquired chipperly, that freaky smile just…gluedthere.
“Morethan reasonable.” Derek said softly, that forced grin lookingpainful right about now.
“Askaway!” hummed Stiles, internally vomiting at how sickly happy hehad to behave.
“Okay…Mr.Alistair…your profession is what, exactly?” Keaton started, herpen at the ready.
“Oh,I am in the middle of working on opening my own restaurant. I justlove cooking. Don’t I, sweetie?” Stiles answered nonchalantly.
Derekbit his lip, chuckling forcefully. “I can barely get him away fromthe kitchen.”
Keatonnodded, softly giggling at the statement. “And Mr. Lucas…what isyour job occupation?”
“I’mcurrently getting my first book published.” replied Derek. “It’sa children’s book.”
“Ohhow cute! That’s amazing! Your husband must be so proud of you!”
“Well,after sleepless nights and much arguing over the lack of cuddles…Ican proudly say that I am very proud of my husband.”
Derekmade himself look like his heart just melted and he kissed Stiles’cheek. “Thanks, babe.”
“Ofcourse, lover.”
“Oh…youtwo are so cute!” squealed Keaton.
“Sicklyso.” Scott butted in with an anxious smirk.
Shechuckled, writing down the information she received. “And…you area werewolf. Correct, Mr. Lucas?”
“Bornand raised.”
“Wonderful!And I don’t think I heard what you were, Mr. Alistair.”
“Oh!Sorry! I’m a werecoyote.”
“Wow.I didn’t think werecoyotes and werewolves liked each other?”
“Undernormal circumstances we don’t. But…just one look at Sparrowand…it was love at first sight.”
Stilesgiggled, playfully hitting Derek’s arm. Dear god…this was torture.
“Andyou two are recently married?”
Thefake couple held up their hands, flashing their wedding rings.Amazing how Stiles’ father’s ring fit him and Derek’s father’s(recently found in the demolition of the burnt out hull) fit him.Barely. On both accounts. Keaton’s smile widened and she scribbledsome more info down.
“Andyou came to us because traditional adoption centers refused to allowyou to adopt?”
Derekleaned forward, nodding and looking a bit saddened by that beingbrought up. “Yes. We received countless rejected letters from manyadoption centers. All we want is a child.”
“Andit’s not like we can get pregnant on our own.” Stiles pouted. “Imean, it’s not a fanfic, after all. Mpregs don’t happen in reallife.”
Keatonhummed, scribbling more crap down. “Okay…okay. Now, Mr. Delgado.You are fine with this?”
“Morethan fine.” Scott confirmed with some serious conviction. “I wantGabriel and Sparrow to be happy more than anything else. I wish thatfor all my packmates. It saddens me to see them being rejected thehappiness they deserve. I support them fully in all their endeavors.”
Damn…whendid Scott get so good at acting?
“Youdo realize this is illegal and that if caught, we will not be goingdown with you, correct?”
“Don’tworry. I have connections to make sure no one ever finds out.”
Thispleased Keaton and she nodded. “Okay. Now…what are you twolooking for?”
“Aboy.” Stiles blurted eagerly. “A-a boy. I want a boy so that whenwe can get others, that he can be a good big brother. I never had agood big brother.”
“Babe,don’t talk about him.” Derek growled, surprisingly, gently.
Stilesnodded, smiling again. “So yeah. A boy.”
“Aboy? Okay. What color hair?”
“Blackor brown.” Derek answered this time. “We don’t care eye or skincolor.”
Keatonclapped her hands together, looking like she was about to shit a rayof sunshine and rainbows from her ass. “Perfect! I think we havethe perfect child for you! Give me one minute to fetch him, okay?”
“Ofcourse.” the trio said in unison.
Shehurriedly left, closing the door behind her desk, well, behind her.And once she was gone.
“Letgo of my hand.”
“Gladly.”
Stilestore his hand away from Derek, glowering folding his arms. Derekglared knives into the door the red head disappeared behind, littlegrowls rumbling from his throat.
“Well…thatwent good.” Scott chirped happily.
Ofcourse it went good in Scott’s mind. Everything went well in Scott’smind. In Derek’s mind, it was likely that he didn’t think this wasgoing good at all. It was the bane of his existence to be part ofthis and he was regretting being on board as well as being the one toplan this. And in Stiles’ mind?
Hewhipped around in his chair, eyes seething blue. “I hate you. Ihate you so much right now, Scott McCall.”
Scottwas stunned – that stupid wounded look plastered right there on hisface. “What? Why?”
“Yousaid there would be no hand holding and no pet names! We are clearlyhaving a breach in broken promises here! I am not enjoying callingDerek 'sweetie’ and 'lover’!”
“Thefeeling is mutual…sugar buns.”
“Don’tstart with me…honey bunches of oats.”
“Okay…okay…Iget it. You two are not having fun with this.” Scott said coolly inattempts to make peace. “But this is important. We need to rescuethese babies from being sold. What if humans adopt them! Or a hunter!It’s for a good cause!”
“I’mstarting to wonder if it is for a good cause…or if you enjoywatching me miserably faking to be married to sourwolf over here.”
“I’mnot enjoying any of this, okay! If I didn’t need to be present as anAlpha, I would be faking being married to you, Stiles!”
“Thatdoes not make me feel any better, Scott.”
“Makesme feel better…” grunted the older werewolf.
Stilesthrew him a menacing look, eyes still shimmering blue. “Shut up,Derek.”
“Oh,darling, that’s no way to talk to your loving husband now, isit?”
“Okay,this is a horrible time for you to suddenly develop a sense ofhumor…pumpkin.”
“Idon’t know, boo-boo. Is it a terrible time to develop a senseof humor?”
Stilesgawked at his fake husband in disbelief. Jesus Christ on a bike…whospat in Derek’s cereal today? “Yes! It is!” He leaned in towardsthe werewolf, pursing his lips. “Googly-bear.”
“Wouldyou two just stop!?” cried Scott.
“Surething, Alpha Donatello who has no idea how to be creative.”
“Donatellois creative!”
“Nothingis creative about using the name of a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle.”scoffed Derek, slouching in his seat.
IfStiles wasn’t so irked right now…he would hug Derek for actuallyknowing that TMNT was.
“Also…GabrielLucas? Sparrow Alistair? Where in the hell did you get those?”
“Theinternet.”
Derekrolled his eyes, ten seconds shy from joining Stiles in proclaiminghis hatred for the Alpha. Stiles turned around to sit properly in hisseat and huffed angrily. He knew this was a terrible idea. There wasno way that this bogus idea was going to convince any of thesepeople.
Howwrong he was when the door opened and Keaton came back. With a baby.A cute, tiny, whimpering baby. And that baby wasn’t alone. There wasanother cute, tiny, whimpering baby in her arms. One waswrapped in a blue blanket and the other was wrapped in a pinkblanket. Any form of tension between the trio blew away at the sightof those babies. Those tiny…tiny babies.
“They’retwins and…we just couldn’t part them from each other. They’reorphans, sadly. Their parents killed by some heartless hunters. Bothare werewolves. The boy has been named Beowulf, and the girl has beennamed Akantha. They are…I think they are of Hawaiian origins. Butof course none of the staff knew Hawaiian names. So…they went withmythological names. Do you want to hold them?”
“Please.”the trio said eagerly.
Keatonlaughed, bouncing the forming fussy infants in her arms. “If it’sall right with you, Alpha Donatello, I think the soon-to-be parentsshould hold them first.”
Scott,obviously pouty over not being the first one to hold the babies,reluctantly nodded. Satisfied, Keaton maneuvered over to the fakecouple and held out Beowulf to Stiles and Akantha to Derek. Both mencarefully took the babies, visibly trembling. Stiles didn’t know whyDerek was so spooked, but he was spooked because a) he never held ababy before and b) he was terrified of dropping it. Beowulf stared upat Stiles with flickering eyes – stuck between Beta gold and honeybrown. The infant smacked his lips together, reaching out and findingone of Stiles’ fingers to grip onto tightly. This kid was so damnprecious! Stiles was half tempted to actually adopt the little tyke!He looked up at Derek to see how the grouch was handling holding ababy and…
Lord,give Stiles strength. Because Derek Hale holding a baby girl like shewas glass was suddenly his new sexuality.
Derekwas gently bouncing Akantha and talking to her in the softest voiceknown in the world. He looked so good with that baby. So so good. Itsuddenly dawned on Stiles that Derek likely had experience withbabies. His family was huge and there were likely a lot of babies.Not to mention Cora when she was born. It was just so…so sweet tosee Derek become this entirely different person with a child in hisarms. Stiles was so distracted by this that he didn’t even noticeScott taking Beowulf away from him. He only noticed when he couldhear his best friend coo at the baby boy.
Itwas a possibility that they all forgot that they were hear to stopthe black market selling of these infants.
Actually,it was more than a possibility.
Derekglanced up and smiled this utter most genuine and breathtaking smileat Stiles. He held Akantha to Stiles, who took her eagerly. Hercontrol over her eyes was better than her brother’s…but they werejust as honey brown as Beowulf’s and even seemed wide with surprise.She squawked at him, wriggling in his arms.
God…Stilesgenuinely wanted to adopt these kids.
Babyswap happened again – Scott handing Derek Beowulf and then takingAkantha away from Stiles. Stiles looked over at Keaton, who seemedpleased and thankful that the trio were taking so well to theorphaned twins. For a split second, Stiles wondered if they shouldeven bother to stop this ring of baby selling. Keaton looked like shewas sincerely happy for these kids. Then again…some of these babiesweren’t orphans like Beowulf and Akantha. Those babies needed to goback to their families.
Thiswas going to suck balls…
Suddenly,the back door was thrown open and Chris Argent, along with SherrifStilinski was there with a pistol drawn. Scott, Derek, and Stileseach got into defensive mode – which was fueled even more by thefrightened wails of the twins. Keaton swore under her breath andraised her hands, apparently not even surprised.
“Tookyou long enough to stop me.” she sighed.
“HannaKeaton…you are under arrest for the black market selling ofinfants.” the sheriff stated simply.
“Yeahyeah. Just arrest me already. And take those three in, too, I guess.”
“Actually,they’re the reason why we’re here.” Chris said. “This is asting.”
Thelook Keaton threw the trio’s way was so nasty that even Derek seemedintimidated by it. The sheriff put her in handcuffs and brisklyforced her out of the room without another word. Chris sighed,putting his gun away.
“Mostof these kids belong to families. Lydia and Malia found records ofit.” Chris explained. “But those two…they’re real orphans.Deaton is setting up for an orphanage for the supernatural to takethe orphans away. Including those two.”
Itwas Derek and Scott that barked out “No!” after Chris told themthis. Stiles, whereas really wanted to keep the munchkins as well,was surprised to hear Derek shout along with Scott in protest. Thisamused Chris, who tilted his head with a wry grin.
“No?”
“Y-yeah.No.” squeaked Scott defensively. “We like them. D-don’t we,Stiles?”
“Dude…Ithink they are cute and I would love to keep them…but they aren’tours.”
“I’lladopt them.” Derek suddenly said in a fierce tone. “Tell Deatonthat I’ll adopt them and set up an appointment for me.”
DespiteScott having been a partner in the no shout…he was just asdumbfounded as Stiles was to hear Derek say this.
“Theycan’t live in the loft!” Scott exclaimed. “That place isdangerous!”
“ThenI’ll sell the building. Some guy wants to buy the place off me formore than it’s worth, and I found this house across the street fromStiles’ that I was thinking about buying anyways.”
Normally,Stiles would be down Derek’s throat for this and give him a list ofreasons why this was a bad idea. But this was not one of those normalmoments for Stiles.
“Soundslike a plan to me.” he agreed slyly. “Though I demand visitationrights. They are also mine, after all.”
Derekgaped with disbelief – jaw dropped and all. “How in the world arethey yours, too?”
“Because,snookums…” He held up his hand, wiggling his fingers. “Weare married.”
Scottgroaned, looking up at the ceiling and muttering something about howthis really had been a bad idea after all.
“DoI even want to know?” questioned Chris with raised brows.
“No!”the werewolf duo struck again.
“ThenI won’t ask.”
“Goodidea, Chrissy.” Stiles teased, taking Akantha back and bouncing herin his arms. “You hear that, cutie? Dad, daddy, and Uncle Scottyare taking you and your brother home with us.”
“Dad?Daddy?” Derek near about roared.
“Youkeep me out of this!” Scott shrieked.
“What’swith the noise?”
SheriffStilinski had come back to the room without his perp. He looked quitehappy that this black market supernatural baby selling ring was takendown, and seemed even prouder with his son. Though…something elsehad drew his attention from that fact.
“Isthat my wedding ring?”
“Don’task.” the trio deadpanned.
Therewas no need to tell the sheriff any of this. Ever. Or, well,at least not right now. Not until Derek moved in across the streetwith the two bundles of joys and Scott accepted his roll as UncleScotty.
Hewas going to accept his roll as uncle of these two cute butterballs,goddammit!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 3561
Relationships: Lydia Martin/Scott McCall, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski
Summary: Lydia wasn't sure what she expected when she heard the knock on her front door, but it certainly wasn't Stiles on her front step, shoulders hunched, sweatshirt hood tugged over his head and eyes looking everywhere but at her.
Without a word, she stepped to one side to let him in. He shuffled past, keeping his face turned away. Like he was hiding something.
Lydia didn't need to be a genius to guess what it was.
(Or, Stiles's boyfriend gets physical with him, and not in the fun way. Lydia takes care of it.)
