A Very Merry Teen Wolf Christmas
Part One: Secret Santa
The Pack Christmas party had been Scott's idea. He thought it would be a good way to strengthen Pack relations – and a good chance to have a little fun, especially in the face of all the supernatural craziness they had been dealing with lately. He wanted to set a good example as the Alpha. Besides, his mother was working on Christmas Eve – again – and he didn't want to spend the best night of the year alone. He had spent more than one holiday with the Stilinskis, and while he knew he would be welcome there again, Sheriff Stilinski was working the graveyard shift that night, and Stiles' place would be just as empty as his own. Neither boy wanted to spend the night overly aware of the silence and void, the sons of single parents – products of an absent father who could never be bothered to send his only child anything more than a Christmas card with twenty dollars ("Gee, thanks, Dad") and a dead mother several years cold in her grave.
Scott wanted to be surrounded by people he cared about; he wanted his home filled with friends, food, decorations, and laughter. He wanted to feel the merriment people often associated with Christmases spent with loved ones and family. He wanted to create his own personal Hallmark movie scene.
His Pack was more than his 'gang,' his 'flock,' or his 'responsibility.' They were his family – the best family he could have ever asked for. If he believed in Santa Claus – which he hadn't since age nine (coincidentally the same year his father had left) – he might have been tempted to ask him for something sentimental, like people who loved him and would never leave. But he didn't need a fat man in a red suit for that. He had everything he could ever want.
Scott loved the eclectic group of people who comprised his Pack – were-canines, hunters, banshees, humans, all (yes, even the kanima). He would readily give his life for any of them. No doubts. No regrets. No hesitations.
The more Scott contemplated hosting a Christmas party, the more the idea excited him. He could buy snacks, dig out some old records, organize some games. He would make this the most awesome Christmas ever! It was exactly what the Pack needed – a bit of good cheer and friendship, some quality bonding time without the added intensity of life-threatening danger. Isaac, Derek, and Malia didn't have families to spend the holidays with; Allison's mother had died; Lydia's parents had split up. If Scott could raise their spirits, send a little love their way, then why not?
Stiles thought the party was a terrible idea. There would be, he claimed, WAY too much sexual tension in one room. They'd be lucky if the night didn't end with someone being sent to the hospital – or worse. But Scott would not be dissuaded. He had that big, goofy grin on his face that Stiles knew meant Scott was beyond reasoning.
Scott's invitations were met with varying reactions from the Pack: excitement and enthusiasm, surprise and derisive laughter, a flat and simple "no" (from Derek Hale, Mr. Were-Grinch himself). Allison, unsurprisingly, greeted Scott's suggestion with the most zeal. Before she had moved to Beacon Hills, she had often attended her friends' elaborate and lavish holiday parties. Secret Santa was her idea. She had played it, a few years ago, with a group of kids from her archery club. The experience had been a lot of fun, especially when everyone opened their gifts and guessed who had purchased them. She was extra excited to be playing with the Pack; she cared more deeply for each member than she had ever cared for any other friends in her life combined. Plus, she knew they were in for hilarity, depending on whose name each Pack member drew.
Allison coerced Lydia into helping her, and together the female Dynamic Duo effectively took the party planning out of Scott's hands. They delegated tasks, decorations, and food. Scott essentially had to provide only the venue and necessary hosting holiday cheer. They would manage the music, the agenda, the endless supply of soda and salty snacks, and the Secret Santa. Allison acquired a guest list from Scott, and hunted each person down for their RSVP (under Lydia's ready glare, who could refuse?). On a piece of fancy Christmas stationary, Allison wrote each person's name in elegant cursive. Nine in total: Scott, Lydia, Stiles, Isaac, Jackson, Malia, Kira, Derek, and, of course, herself. She cut the paper in perfect rectangles, folded each slip, and shuffled the names together in an old cookie tin.
Lydia was relegated to tin-holder, while Allison carried a blue spiral-bound notebook with a snowman on the cover. When each pack member drew a name, she silently glanced at the slip of paper, and wrote the receiver's name next to the giver's. She scrawled clearly and legibly, though she was the only person who would see the sheet, with a red glitter pen with a Santa Claus on top. He swayed on a spring with every stroke.
Allison alone would know each person's Secret Santa. She thought having a master record would be a good idea – in case someone lost their slip of paper (Stiles) or forget they were supposed to buy a present (Jackson), or names needed to be shuffled around due to unforeseen circumstances (though there would be absolutely zero trading), or if someone needed ideas. She hoped the Pack would be creative and use their heads. She out-lawed the giving of cash and gift-cards; she wasn't letting anyone take the easy way out.
Being the sole bearer of this secret knowledge gave Allison a thrill and a delicious sense of control. Everyone (except Jackson, who only liked presents when they were being given to him) showed enough interest to boost Allison's confidence. There were a few grumblings and groans, a couple amused smirks, but otherwise everyone was content.
Scott and Stiles were the last to draw names. Two slips of paper were nestled in the hat. One in blue ink read, "Allison." The other, in purple ink, read "Lydia." It was a weird, but happy, coincidence. Allison smiled, and motioned for Lydia to hold out the tin. This was about to get interesting. Very interesting. Stiles drew first, with a typical sarcastic quip and his usual lopsided grin that concealed an eager, nervous energy. He mixed the two papers between his long fingers, reached for one, paused, changed his mind, and slowly withdrew the other. He read the name, his eyes widening and then softening. Allison knew immediately without looking at the name; she could read it in his face. A fresh wave of excitement coursed through her belly, warm and tingly. Lydia, she wrote beside Stiles' name, musing happily to herself that their names looked good together.
That just left… Scott withdrew the final slip of paper and smiled privately. He re-folded the page and slipped it into his front jeans' pocket. He looked so delighted, Allison didn't have the heart to remind him that she already knew whose name he had drawn. She was intrigued, glad, and more than a little nervous to see what he would get. A lot could be revealed with a single gift.
She wondered briefly if Secret Santa had been a bad idea.
The real stress of Christmas began now.