AN: So this is a gift for the Tumblr Teen Wolf Holiday Gift Exchange that I signed up for, and it is for tumblr user reallyyeahokay. Hope you guys enjoy!
This story has three chapters, I will probably be uploading all of them up around the same time because I'm lazy like that. Or maybe I'll make you guys wait. Mwahahahaha.
Chapter 1:
"I swear, I'm about to pop a blood vessel here, Scott. Like seriously? You have one bad break up and suddenly you're adopting all of my great study habits and I know I should be flattered, - because hey, who doesn't want to be imitated for his greatness? - but this is getting way out of hand." Stiles Stilinski pushed his lunch tray onto the table next to his best friend, Scott McCall, resident reluctant –but not really- werewolf of Beacon Hills. Scott looked up from the second hand book he had placed in front of his plate, carefully eating his food to not spill anything on the pages.
"What do you mean?"
Stiles gaped at Scott, arms gesturing wildly in the air. "How do you not know already, I've mentioned it every five minutes of every day for the past week! You've been ignoring me every word I say again, haven't you? This is why I still question our supposedly awesome friendship, you know."
"But Stiles," Scott gave his most effective hurt-puppy look. "You know you are the bestest friend anyone could ask for, right? And you make the best cookies."
"Besties still isn't in the dictionary, Scotty, and it won't ever be. I guess all of that PSAT studying still isn't kicking in." Stiles sniffed dramatically, grabbing a handful of the greasy potatoes the cafeteria cooks called fried and stuffing them in his mouth. "What ever happened to my best friend Scott whose actual best friend was spark notes and copious amounts of extra Googling courtesy of Stiles?"
"Sitting next to you reading 'To Kill a Mockingbird' and eating lunch." Scott ate a spoonful of the Mac&Cheese that was piled generously on his tray, turning a page in his book with his free hand.
"I can't believe that you still haven't succumbed to be sarcastic way of life, Scott. I have clearly failed as a best friend, which would explain why you are turning away from me. Alas poor Yorick, my heart is slain!"
"That's from Hamlet. The jester, right?" Scott grinned at Stiles.
"I would be much more impressed if I didn't know that you read that play last week and that you actually meant a random jester in the graveyard and not Hamlet being over dramatic and talking about a jester."
"Whoops." Scott rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Would it help if I said, Hamlet and a Jester are the same thing?"
"Never." Stiles turned his nose up in the opposite direction of Scott, forming a theatrical offended posture. "You have failed to grasp the meaning and each amazing quote by the proper characters. I don't believe we can be friends anymore."
"But Stiles….Who else is going to admire me twenty-four seven?"
"Don't you dare make your eyes go wide for a statement like that, furry boy! And I don't admire you, I degrade you constantly. There is a huge difference that you should learn and memorize."
"You know you love me." Scott grinned. It felt like he and Stiles had not bantered with each other all summer. Which really might not have been that much of an exaggeration. But with all the PSAT studying, the not-pining over Allison, and the extra reading he was cramming, and then that whole fiasco with the Alphas, there hadn't been that much time to hang out. Or at least that's what Scott kept telling himself. "I need to get a new book, you wanna come with me to the old bookstore?"
"I am doubly more offended now because when I wanted to go to that bookstore before I discovered the full wonders of the Internet, you visibly shuddered and muttered bad words."
"We were eleven!"
"Makes absolutely no difference, Scotty." Stiles glanced at his phone and groaned. "I got to get going. I need to work on homework now if I want to be able to sleep tonight."
"You heading to Deaton's after school?" Scott asked.
Stiles nodded. "Yup, while you get to play with all the kittens and take the calls, I get stuck learning about the politics of werewolf court and the proper procedure for being a diplomat between two packs. Freaking boring, man. I want the magic spells, but the vet is holding out on me."
"I'm sure Deaton has his reasons." Scott reasoned, pushing the now empty lunch tray away.
"It would give me less stress lines if the dude actually mentioned those mystical reasons." Stiles grumbled, standing and donning his backpack. "I'll see you later man. Don't do anything stupid without consulting me first."
"You just want me to be on the phone with you all the time."
"Duh, I love the sound of your voice, Scott. Don't tell Allison I said that, she would probably quarter me with a dull spoon."
"Allison and I aren't together anymore." Scott reminded Stiles, reading the last few pages of his book.
"Doesn't mean that she doesn't scare the absolute shit out of me with her glare alone." Stiles turned and walked off, waving good-bye as he disappeared out the cafeteria, most likely heading towards the library. Scott turned back to his book, getting lost in the last few pages of the story.
'Atticus would be there all night and he would be there when Jem waked up in the morning.'
"How does it feel, knowing you've finally finished a literary classic, McCall?" Scott nearly jumped out of his seat, too engrossed in the story to notice Lydia Martin come up, even with his wolf senses. Derek would have glared and Stiles would have yelled for his inability to pay attention to his surroundings. But no one had seen Derek or Cora for nearly three weeks now; the of them vanished once everything had settled down after the whole fiasco the alpha group and no one really cared to wonder where Peter had wandered off to.
"Ehm, great. Fantastic, really! You've read this book already, Lydia?" Scott dropped the book in his bag as Lydia tossed her hair over her shoulder and sat down next to him.
"Was that really a question you needed to ask me, Scott? I read that book in sixth grade for fun."
Scott laughed. "I forgot how competitive you and Stiles are for being the smartest people in school every year."
"There is no competition. Stiles puts up a good fight, but I will always beat him in the end."
"That's not what he said to me two days ago."
"Stiles has been known to be wrong quite often. I, on the other hand, should have all my words inscribed on a stone tablet to be a gospel truth." Lydia reached into her book bag, pulling out an older looking book, the cover slightly torn and Scott could see faint erased pencil marks on the top of the pages. "Now, I've noticed for quite some time that you're becoming quite the bookworm. But first, two things. One, you tell no one I'm pointing you in the right direction of what books to sink your sharp nose into. Two, tell anyone, and I'll destroy you. I've got a shattered reputation to fix here." She slid the book across the table and Scott delicately picked it up.
"Emma?" He read the title out loud.
"One of my favorite books by Jane Austen. One of my favorite authors really. So I figured I would recommend her so you can be a bit more cultured and more socially acceptable." Lydia held out her hand, glaring until Scott placed the book in her hand and her fingers curled around the spine. "Now, I am in no way going to let you borrow this. But I did hear from a little birdie that you're heading to the bookstore today, so I better see you with a Jane Austen book tomorrow if you know what's good for you."
"Lydia, why are you threatening me to read books?" Lydia grinned, showing her teeth and somehow that was nearly as terrifying as any alpha werewolf trying to bite his head off.
"Well you see, Scott. Stiles rightfully came to me with a plea for help to assist in shaping your reading material. Some of those literally classics could hardly be classified as classics, so we're taking matters into our own hands. Consider it our own little personal pet project for our residential wolf boy." Scott grinned. Best friends were awesome. And said best friends ex-love interest turned thinking partner. It was frightening how brilliant they could be when placed in a room together with nothing to do but think.
"Thanks, Lydia. You're the best."
"I know." Lydia dropped her book in her purse and pushed the chair away from the table to stand and shake her hair out. "If you see Stiles before last period, tell him he better cough up that explanation. He'll get it."
"Couldn't you just text it to him?" Scott wondered what explanation Lydia was referring to. And what Stiles has been getting up to in his free time that Lydia couldn't piece together.
"I have. The idiot pretends he doesn't get them and starts ranting about other things. I expect him to be at my house at eight sharp." Lydia waved once, turning around and leaving the cafeteria from the only pair of doors. Scott could see Allison waiting outside of the area, giving a small smile and wave, which she reciprocated before the doors closed and she walked off with Lydia.
The rest of the day passed quickly enough, Scott absently taking notes for history and English. As the final bell rang loud and clear, Scott waited for most of the other students to pack up and leave before exiting the classroom himself. It wasn't that he hated crowds, just that he felt safer knowing that there was space to move if something happened. Scott assumed it was some wolf instinct.
"Stiles!" Scott smelled a whiff of his medicated best friend, easily spotting Stile's head among the group of students walking past.
"What's up, buddy?" Stiles waited for Scott to catch up, shifting from foot to foot in the middle of the hallway.
"I was supposed to give you a message from Lydia, something about spilling the beans at her house at eight tonight. You aren't keeping something huge from everyone are you?"
"Scott, please." Stiles snorted. "Would I ever keep something big from my best friend?" Just as Scott opened his mouth to answer, Stiles beat him to the punch. "No, never mind. Don't answer that. Ok, how about this. I have never kept something life threatening from you and the records still clean." Scott stared at Stiles worriedly but knew Stiles well enough to drop the matter, for now. Besides, Lydia would probably have a better chance prying the truth from Stiles. She had a way of terrifying people into gossiping the truth to her face.
"Alright, I believe you, man." Scott had to push down the hurt that started pulsing throughout his chest as Stiles' face lit up. Neither Scott nor Stiles had ever kept any secrets from each other before the whole werewolf mess started. Now they seemed to do it at least once a week.
"Glade to hear it, Scott." Stiles glanced at his phone and hissed. "Shit, I'm getting late. Deaton's going to have me naming all of the great Emissaries in backwards alphabetical order."
"That doesn't sound too bad."
"Scott, there are over a thousand of guys calling themselves the great Emissary, you try memorizing at least half of them, loads with completely stupid and unpronounceable names."
"Yikes. Never mind, I take it back." Stiles nodded.
"I thought you would. I'll see you later." Stiles ran off, clamoring into his jeep and roaring away within thirty seconds. His fear of Deaton's boring lectures was actually pretty funny.
Scott walked over to his bike, strapping the helmet onto his head as he sat on the semi-comfy cushion. Getting a motorcycle was easily the best decision he had made this summer; it seemed his-good-for-nothing dad actually had some benefits for working in the FBI. Not that Scott would ever tell that to his face if he ever saw the man again. Scott revved up the motor, walking the bike backwards and roaring out of the school parking lot.
He had about an hour to waste before he needed to head over to Deaton's for his job. The vet would alternate between tending to the animals and coaching Scott on what to do, while mixing some werewolf lore in the middle, and teaching Stiles about the duties of being an Emissary. And though Stiles complained a lot, which wasn't anything really new, Scott could tell he enjoyed the new knowledge he was learning. Occasionally, Lydia would drop by for any scrap of information Deaton could give her about banshees.
Scott turned into a driveway, slowing his bike down until he could park it neatly in one of the stalls in front of his new favorite shop, the Old Bookstore.
He couldn't say why exactly he started enjoying reading all of the old time classical literature. All he knew was that he was studying for the PSAT and came across a passage from one of the books in the reading section and felt a desire to read the entire book. So he texted Stiles the quote, getting his reply barely a minute later along with a footnote text "learn to use Google, numbskull!" from Stiles.
Scott pushed open the door of the store, the aroma of dusty old books filling his nose as well as a old familiar scent of leather, crushed leaves, and hickory. Scott's eyes widened. Derek was here?
Scott followed his nose to the back of the shop, the trail leading him to Derek sitting against the wall, his nose buried in his book.
"Derek!" Scott called and got the pleasure of seeing one the few times the once Alpha werewolf was startled out of his thoughts and taken by surprise. Of course the only indication he gave that he was surprised was the sudden glance up from his book, face as stoic as ever apart from a slight raise of his eyebrows.
"I never took you for a reading type, McCall."
"Well I could say the same for you, Derek." Scott grinned at the older werewolf. "Since when do you hang out in bookstores and not Hot Topic for major shopping sprees?"
"Stiles told you to say that, didn't he?" Derek didn't sound annoyed, but one never could completely know with him.
"Maybe." Scott admitted, looking a tad sheepish. "He is the master of comebacks and feels he must teach me his ways one of these days."
"Somehow that doesn't surprise me." Derek stood, tucking the book in his hand in his jacket. "I've got places to be. Later Scott." Derek started walking to the front of the store as Scott frowned.
"But none of us have seen you in forever. Are you at least back in town?"
"I don't know yet. I came by for a visit to pick up a few new books. It's not like you guys need me anyways."
Before Scott could protest, Derek had stepped out of the store, getting into a black Toyota and driving away.
"You gonna get a book, boy?" The store manager, an old man by the name of Harold came up to Scott.
"Uh, yeah." What did Lydia threaten him to get? "Um, do you have Emma? By-"
"By Jane Austen, I'm surprised kid. Never thought I'd catch you reading those sorts of books. Then again, I never thought I'd see you step a foot into my store." Scott chuckled nervously.
"Well, people change, sir. Never thought I would come here either, yet here I am."
"That you are, boy." Harold nodded to Scott. "Wait right here, I'll go grab your book. Maybe take a look at all the little trinkets in front for your girlfriend or boyfriend or something."
"I'm not seeing anyone, Mr. Harold, sir." Scott called. He hoped Allison would agree to get back together with him in the future, but….. not now. Not when wounds were still fresh and the tension very visible. His mom had been really helpful drilling that thru his head all summer long.
"Then perhaps your friend Stiles Stilinski. Saw him wandering in here just yesterday. Didn't bother buying anything though." Harold said as he came back, a book in his hand. Scott followed as the bookkeeper walked towards the counter. "Just came inside and talked with the Hale kid a bit; didn't seem very happy with sudden visit."
Scott very nearly whined, hurt that Stiles couldn't even tell him that he knew Derek was back in town, but caught it by squeezing his throat, coughing to ease the pressure. "Stiles never told me Derek was back." He managed to get out after a few seconds. Harold shrugged.
"That kid has been hoarding up on the secrets to everyone. Overheard couple of officers talking about it when they came in a few weeks ago." Harold rang up the book, pressing the buttons on the cash register rapidly. "Total's going to be $7.84, kid." Scott handed him a ten-dollar bill, taking back the change and the book with a small smile.
"Thanks, Mr. Harold."
"No need to thank me, son. I'm just doing my job in this town."
"Spreading gossip and selling books?" Scott asked as he walked towards the exit of the store.
"Precisely." Scott grinned as he turned, taking long strides out into the parking lot where his bike was waiting. He had a job to get to and a best friend to start prying open.
