Author's Note: So I've been meaning to write something Teen Wolf related for months now...and just in general write something for months now. This is kinda short, but it's my first real crack at writing the Teen Wolf characters. Not entirely sure I got them perfect, but it was worth a try.

Anyway, so this based around the fact that I cannot for the life of me find the perfect wallet...Stupid inspiration, yes, but I'm super particular about my wallets.

Please enjoy. :)

Disclaimer: I do not own the Teen Wolf universe, characters, etc...

"I've never met someone so ridiculous about their wallet," Scott narrowed his eyes at the array of wallets scattered about on the shelves at the local Macy's. "I mean, it's a wallet. Knowing you, you're probably going to lose it within the next week or so. We've got bigger problems like—"

"Like how your little werewolf ass is in perpetual danger." Stiles waved off his comment, tossing aside another wallet that didn't fit the build for his perfect money holding companion. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. But the thing is, like how you're so anal about having a phone to call Allison, I'm kinda particular when comes to what I carry my money in. Get over it."

Scott shook his head, running his fingers over the leathery surface of one of the discarded wallets. "Well, could you pick faster? We're on a bit of a deadline, if you've forgotten."

"It's Derek, Scott." Stiles fumbled a wallet around in his hands. "He's the reason we're here, remember?"

Scott raised an eyebrow at his best friend. "Seriously, Stiles, you're blaming your wallet's disappearance on Derek?"

"Well," Stiles dropped the wallet he had been fumbling and lifted another one to examine. "Since we blame him for almost everything else that happens in this town, I only thought it was appropriate."

Scott picked up a stray wallet and flashed it before his friend's eyes, "How about this one?"

He flicked it open to reveal its inner workings. "It's got a nice clear case for your ID. And look!" He emphasized with a melodramatic flare, "it's got four clear picture holders, for all those pictures of your girlfriends – Oh wait."

"Shut it." Stiles snatched the wallet away from his friend. "Or I swear to God you will find Kibbles n' Bits in your lunch tomorrow."

"And should I blame Derek?" Scott asked, taking a step back from Stiles.

"As I said, Derek is the cause of all problem –"He paused to think for a moment. "Regardless of whether or not he was the one to actually bite you, or kill all those people, or steal my wallet…Believe me, it will just be easier for both of us if we use him as our go to scapegoat. He puts on the act of being such an emo badass all the time; he's practically the poster child for "The Blame Game.""

"When the hell has Derek ever been "emo"?" Scott made a face before allowing the rest of Stiles' statement sink in. "And when has he ever been "badass"?"

"Dude, you don't see him the way I do." He shuffled down the aisle a bit to get a better look at the wallets down further on the shelf. "Don't you ever notice how emotional he gets and then he goes all wolfy and in turn, kicks up his badass level to at least a thirteen."

"Badass level?"

"Yeah," he said nonchalantly as he examined another wallet. "Right now, you're like a negative two out a possible ten on the Badassery Scale, but when you go all wolf, you're definitely about a six or seven, depending whose judging and how much you're sucking that day."

Scott rolled his eyes, "Seriously, I'm only a seven at most and Derek's a thirteen? And what are you on this "Badassery Scale"?"

"Me?" Stiles pointed to himself. "I'm a constant twelve. I give Derek his time to shine as a werewolf and all, but, in general, my badassery kicks ass, if you know what I mean."

It was at that moment that Scott noticed some creeping up next to Stiles. Every ounce of him screamed to alert him of the potential incoming danger, but for some reason his voice was caught up in his throat. Perhaps it was because Stiles was allegedly higher than him on the "Badassery Scale," even while in wolf form, or perhaps he knew the incoming presence wasn't as threatening as his instincts made it seem.

Without fail though, an object flew through the air and smacked Stiles in the back of the head.

"Ow," Stiles complained glancing down at the ground to see the object that had just smacked him in the back of the head. He picked it up from the ground and looked it over. "The hell…it's my wallet…"

"I'm a thirteen?" Derek's voice lofted over to the two-some standing at the shelves full of men's wallets.

"I told you he stole my wallet," Stiles waved his wallet front of Scott's face. "His thievery is what makes him only a thirteen. Badasses kick ass and take what they need. They don't sneak around and steal things."

Stiles opened up his wallet to survey the contents to make sure everything was in order, taking note of a change to his license that made it appear to read six instead of sixteen. He felt something whack him the back of the head.

"Hey!" He shouted as he swatted at the hand, taking his eyes off of his wallet for a split second. When his eyes returned to his wallet he realized something was indeed awry with the contents of his money holding companion.

He turned his attention to Derek and accused, "I'm missing ten dollars!"

"How badass am I now?" Scott signaled to the ten spot in his possession with a mischievous smirk gracing his lips.

Stiles swiftly seized the currency away from his friend. "Fine, you're an eight, but only because Derek's an asshole."

Author's Note: Not too bad, eh?

I'm sad that this show will now be off for about nine months until next summer, but at least I have something to look forward to then.

Thank you for reading! :)