Oh, What A Night (Beacon Hills, 2011)

[whatisastiles]

Stiles and the damn fools that follow him back to Beacon Hills step into an ordinary looking teenage boy's bedroom. There's the usual furniture—bed, desk, dresser, bookshelf—and decorations—band posters, telescope, pile of smelly lacrosse gear. It doesn't look like much in the way of a werewolf investigative headquarters.

"Welcome to mi casa," says Stiles. "Dad's not home, thank God, so he won't notice we're here."

Add 'weird people traveling in through my closet' to the many things Stiles would rather not have to explain to his father.

"I need to talk to Scott," he say, punching the speed dial on his phone at the same time. He pauses for a moment listening to the phone ring, ring, and finally go to voicemail before hanging up. "And he's not picking up, so I'm going to go see if he's at home. You staying here or coming with?"

Comments

[headed4hell]

"God DAMN it, Raph!"

Grace winces and touches a sore spot under her eye.

"You kneed me in the goddamn face."

Grace pokes it a few more times, then laughs, giving in to gravity as she slips into the driver's seat herself.

Wait.

Did something just growl?

[mnt_raph]

Out of the frying pan of personal space violation, and into the proverbial fire. Seriously, what the hell, universe? What the hell?!

For a split second Raph thinks it might be Stiles he's landing with and so he does his best to shift so as to not kill the kid.

But it's not Stiles. It's someone much bigger and stronger than Stiles.
Someone Raph didn't even know was there. That...can't be good.

And so after they come crashing to the ground Raph uses his momentum to pin this other man to the ground, threatening him with the weapons he has on hand.

His lock pick set.

Very vicious...and um...pointy?

[alpha_loomer]

Someone did indeed growl.

Someone whose eyes have gone an unnatural blue and whose hair is standing on end. Shaking himself, Derek huffs out a breath and quickly gets his features under control, his mouth downturned in another scowl as he slowly, sardonically takes in Raph and the lock picks.

"Scary."

[headed4hell]

There's a slight metallic squeak as Grace shoves the door open all the way.

It's followed by a loud, long slurpee straw slurp.

"I don't know. You should see the mess he was making with them in here."

Grace chews on the straw in a suggestive manner, eyeing the new guy.

Huh.

[whatisastiles]

Okay.

Not getting bashed in the head with Mrs. McCall's baseball bat. Check.

(Seriously, they don't even play baseball.)

Tell Scott the bus driver is dead, and that Derek killed him. Or possibly another unknown werewolf. But probably Derek. Check.

Look out the window. Che...

What the hell is going on down there?

[mnt_raph]

Well you see, it just...it kind of might just look a bit like Raph is straddling Derek in the McCall's driveway.

In the rain.

It might almost look potentially romantic, save for the fact that Raph is pretty much a one-man straight pride parade.

"You ain't seen scary yet," he rumbles. "Who the fuck are you, an' why are you skulkin'?"

[headed4hell]

Grace has a real strong suspicion regarding this guy's identity.

Keeping her eyes on him (not a hardship, it turns out), she tugs the hood of her poncho back up and slides out of the car. The moment her boots hit pavement, she casually tucks up the poncho so her gun is exposed.

"Way I hear it, that's what he's best at."

[alpha_loomer]

Derek looks away from Raph, dismissing Mr. Eau de Testudines so he knows he's not scared, and gives first the lady, then her gun a meaningful look.

"Better question: what the hell were you two doing in Stiles's jeep? In Scott's driveway?" He lets out a derisive snort. "I mean... kinky."

[whatisastiles]

Stiles only catches the last bit of that as he trips down the McCall's driveway.

"Kinky? What's kinky? The rules are nothing kinky in my Jeep without me there."

Wait.

"Derek? Where the hell did you come from?"

And why hasn't Grace shot you yet?

[mnt_raph]

"Nothing's kinky!" says Raph, possibly a bit more forcefully than strictly necessary.

Seriously, do people need to keep saying 'kinky'?
No. No, they do not.

And then Raph realizes he's still sort of...on Derek.
Right, he's just going to uh, fix that. And stand. Maybe put away the lock picks before Stiles notices.

[headed4hell]

"Speak for yourself. I'm definitely kinky."

She's almost close enough to kick Derek's feet. Or... join them.

Look, she's not unaffected by this scene, okay? But if there's one thing Grace is damn good at, it's being simultaneously turned on and effective at her job.

Everyone has their own talent.

"So you're Derek."

Beat.

"Figured you'd be hairier."

[alpha_loomer]

As soon as Raph moves, Derek jumps to his feet.

"You're funny."

Wait.

To Stiles: "What's going on? You and Scott telling tales to everyone now? Is he still up there?" He jabs a finger toward the second floor of the McCall home.

He'd almost forgotten why he was, well, lurking.

[whatisastiles]

Stiles wastes no time getting in Derek's face. Because he's not afraid of Derek.

"Oh my God, you're mad because I tattled on you? What are you, four?"

Does being a werewolf make you lose brain cells as you gain chiseled jawline?

"And I didn't tell everyone you're a freaking murderer. Just Grace and Raph and Scott. Who's out looking for you."

Asshole.

[alpha_loomer]

Eyebrows raised, chin tucked in, Derek eyes Stiles like he would a yapping, floofy dog, torn between annoyance and amusement. Right up until Stiles says murderer and it all comes rushing back: the hospital, the bus driver, the confrontation at the gas station.

His car.

(Murderer)

He stares hard at Stiles, remembers the woman's gun.

Flatly, "Scott's out. Looking for me."

Shit.

Wrenching himself sideways, Derek takes off with more speed and agility than is strictly natural.

[mnt_raph]

Just so Raph has this clear.
This is the guy Stiles thought was going to kill his friend.
And Stiles just want and told him that said friend was not only out alone looking for him, but that Scott knows Stalker McCreepypants knows about the murder.

Great. Good plan. Way to go, Stiles.

"Find your friend, I'm goin' after that guy."

And Raph is off like a shot.

[whatisastiles]

"They're both going to the same place!" Stiles yells at Raph's retreating form.

Great.

"We'll get there faster if we drive," says Stiles. He jumps back in the car and slots the key in the ignition.

"Coming, Grace?"

[headed4hell]

"About that."

Grace leans in and covers his hand to turn the key.

"I'm sure it's an easy fix, but we ain't goin' by jeep."

Beat.

She backs off, holding up her hands and the now empty slurpee cup. "Wasn't me!"

[whatisastiles]

The engine doesn't turn over.

"Shit!"

He slams his hands into the wheel, then stumbles back out of the Jeep.

"Then let's go. Maybe we can make it to Derek's fortress of solitude before before somebody else gets dead."

[headed4hell]

"Yeah. 'Sides, I'd like to hear what Wolfy McHotass has to say about all this."

Grace motions for him to lead, cracking her neck and bouncing on her heels. Cowboy boots and tight jeans don't make for the best running in the rain clothes, but hey. It won't be the first time she's done it, and at least she's got her trusty poncho.

[alpha_loomer]

Even preoccupied as he is with reaching Scott, Derek doesn't get far before realizing he's got a tail. The guy's good, he'd probably admit if forced, but there's no substitution for werewolf hearing.

He's not surprised, truth be told. If Stiles has been blabbing about Derek being a... well.

He's not surprised.

Since he's going to have more than enough to deal with when he gets home, he lopes down a short side street and turns right and right again, only then pulling up to listen and wait.

[mnt_raph]

Cripes this guy was fast.
Like...Mike after an Uber-Dew fast.
It's all Raph can take to keep Derek in his line of sight.

Then the flash bastard ducks down a side-street.
He knows I'm here and he's trying to lose me.

Raph stays close to the shadows, and unsheathes a sai.

[alpha_loomer]

Derek turns his head slightly, trying to pinpoint each sound, and wonders about this 'Raph' guy. He followed what he believes to be a murderous werewolf through the shadows and largely unoccupied suburban streets?

Crazy.

Or fiercely freaking loyal.

Both are problematic possibilities.

The temptation to turn is strong and he will if it comes to it, because right now Scott is out looking for him. They need to settles some things. He needs to know Derek isn't the only one looking for Scott.

He swallows a growl with limited success and calls out, "It's not what you think."

There's a sharp edge, a warning in his voice.

[mnt_raph]

Raph was sure he'd lost the guy in the rain and unfamiliar terrain until he speaks.
Something pings at the base of his skull, something left over from ages ago. A tiny voice that says...

Predator.
Be small.
Hope it goes away.

Raph, who was never very good at listening, continues to advance. Albeit far more slowly than before.

"It usually ain't," he says shifting his grip on the sai. "Don't care about the specifics. You ain't gonna hurt the boy."

[alpha_loomer]

As Raph approaches, Derek moves left into even deeper shadows like he's circling his prey. This might not help Raph with the vestigial voice telling him to pull his head into his shell, but being concerned about something like that isn't really Derek's thing.

"Wasn't going to."

Well, not permanently, anyway.

"You always believe what overstimulated teenagers tell you?"

[mnt_raph]

Oh that's so not helping. Not in the slightest.
Everything about Raph's demeanor and posture tenses.

"Not usually." His voice is low and getting lower. "Don't make a habit of believing voices from the shadows neither."