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]

"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."

[alpha_loomer]

"You were chasing me."

Almost beside Raph, Derek takes a step forward and gives the sai a meaningful look. He's just about to comment on the weapon when the noise of two people running reaches his ears.

"Stealthy," he says, sounding like he's rolling his eyes into the back of his head.

But, really. The Super Sleuths are making noise. Especially the one in cowboy boots.

[whatisastiles]

Look, some people are human. With no special powers.

Stiles arrives panting and half-soaked. The puddles on the street have not been kind to him.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Stiles huffs at Derek.

[alpha_loomer]

"Right now?" Derek fires back. "You."

He stalks toward Stiles.

"You're worried about your friend? Worried enough to get the..." he looks at Grace and Raph "...weirdest backup in Beacon Hills? Then stop following me."

[headed4hell]

"Hey now."

As soon as Grumpy McMuscles moves toward Stiles, Grace shifts in front of the kid and glares up at him. Her gun may not pack silver, but it'll still slow him down.

"You don't see how this looks bad for you?"

Really?

[mnt_raph]

"Then stop runnin'," is all Raph can manage.

The arrival of Grace and Stiles has helped relax him somewhat, but there's still something so damn off putting about this guy. Something he hasn't felt since...Hogwarts. Not since that battle at Hogwarts.

[whatisastiles]

Grace has a really good point.

"Where you go, people seem to turn up dead..."

It looks super bad.

"... of course, I brought back up."

Duh.

"You think I'm just going to stand here while you try to get my best friend to join your little murder club?"

You're not Scott's brother, Derek. Stiles was there first.

[alpha_loomer]

As they say, appearances can be deceiving.

Jaw clenched, Derek stares hard at Stiles. Maybe it's the werewolf thing that keeps him from blinking, maybe not; the end result is unsettling all the same.

It's not that he doesn't know. It's that he can't *believe* he's going to have to explain himself to this group of clowns, and do so before Scott invites even more trouble he can't handle.

"I'm trying to help him, you idiot."

It has nothing to do with wanting a damn brother.

Probably.

If Scott DID become like a brother, he'd only die in a fire or some other horrible circumstance just like everyone else.




He just wants Scott to realize the bite is a gift, no matter who did the biting.

[whatisastiles]

Yeah, the leather and the scowling, totally concealing a fluffy little puppy with a heart of gold. Right.

"Help?!" shouts Stiles, incredulous. "Bull. Shit."

"Since when does stalking equal helping?"

Since never, that's when.

[alpha_loomer]

Derek's jaw continues to work.

Look, it's really hard not to shove Stiles up against the wall behind him and growl in his face. Derek is the very model of restraint.

"When," he gets out through gritted teeth, "there is something worse out stalking him, too."

How's that for helping, Stiles.




Only don't take too long answering. Scott's on his own and Derek scheduled 'Teach Scott to Werewolf' for 11 PM.

[whatisastiles]

Stiles throws a 'Can you believe this guy?' look in Grace's direction before he replies.

"Like what? Mountain lions, Derek?" he asks, sarcastic.

Even Sheriff Stilinski doesn't really buy the mountain lion explanation of the recent murders.