The Sheriff's heart sank when he recognised Melissa's bedraggled curls as she was unceremoniously tied up opposite him. He dreaded the moment that she woke up - what could he say? Hey, Melissa, how long have you known that my son has been hanging out with a werewolf? Hey, Melissa, is my son even still human? Hey, Melissa, do you think we'll ever see our sons again?

He shook his head and stared at the ceiling. There was no point thinking about that. They needed to work on getting out of here. After years of discovering bodies in Beacon Hills, he knew there was no point putting his faith in anybody else. He fervently wished that he hadn't discovered the body of Julia in time to save her.

At that moment he heard a gasp as Melissa woke up.

"Okay, Sheriff, how do you suppose we can untie ourselves?" Melissa automatically took on a sarcastic, almost flirty tone. When it came to the Sheriff, that was her default setting, though she couldn't pinpoint a time when it began. She suspected it came from the sense of camaraderie she got from sharing the experience of single handedly raising a teenage boy. Honestly, she sometimes felt like she couldn't have done it without the Sheriff... and she wouldn't be surprised if he said the same of her.

"Melissa? Are you okay?"

She jerked, startled, and realised she hadn't heard anything he'd been saying.

"Ah - sorry - I was just thinking…"

"I know."

Exchanging a long look, they found clarity in each others eyes. They needed to get out, one of them if not both, or leave both of their sons parentless.

With renewed determination, Melissa struggled with the knots binding her hands while the Sheriff looked around for sharp objects to cut the ropes. A triumphant yell heralded his success as he used his foot to drag a jagged rock back towards him.

He held the rock firmly and began to slice away at the ropes that bound his wrists.

It felt like forever, but eventually the Sheriff worked his way out of the ropes and hurried to help Melissa. She felt tears of relief mixing with the dirt on her cheeks and heard herself laughing manically as she pulled away from her ropes, collapsing against the Sheriff.

"Oh God… what would I do without you?" Melissa gasped, clutching his arm. The Sheriff couldn't resist stroking her hair as he scanned the root cellar for an escape route. Despite everything, the dark curls still felt smooth and thick and smelt faintly of lavender.

Melissa was still shaking like a leaf, but she wiped her face and met the Sheriff's gaze evenly. He could tell by the way she rolled up her sleeves and breathed deeply that she was pretending she was back in the hospital, with a dying patient on her hands. Except instead of a dying patient, they had themselves to look after.

"Okay, we need to get out of here," Melissa said firmly. "Our boys need us." She grabbed both of his hands and squeezed. "Sheriff, if something happens… don't wait for me, okay? Stiles needs you… and let's face it, you're much more likely to outrun this witch lady than me. Being the Sheriff and all."

The Sheriff stared at her in disbelief. His expression hardened into anger as her words sunk in. He took her face between his grimy hands, needing her to listen.

"No, Melissa, do NOT talk like that. I won't let you die. Yes Stiles may need me but -" the Sheriff was surprised to hear a sob escape from his throat - "but I need you, Melissa."

It was only as the words escaped his lips that he realised exactly how true they were. Ever since Claudia… well, if it wasn't for Melissa, he never could have coped. He never could have raised Stiles on his own. He needed Melissa. In fact, as he stared into her dark eyes, he wondered if there was more to it than that.

He was suddenly acutely aware of how soft her skin was against his calloused thumbs. Her cheeks had flushed bright red. God, how long had it been since…?

"Sheriff?" Melissa whispered, looking embarrassed, "we're supposed to be escaping…?"

He snapped out of his reverie, but pulled her in for a tight hug before standing up.

"Let's get out of here," he grinned, and they both headed for the stairs.

The Sheriff led the way through the forest, trying to put as much distance between them and the root cellar as possible. Being out in the open came with a whole new kind of danger. He found that knowing about the existence of werewolves and druids and kanimas and whatever the fuck else did not help to ease his nerves. They had to get back to civilisation, and soon.

They were both beginning to slow down when the Sheriff heard voices ahead of them. His first instinct was to reach for his gun, which wasn't on his belt any more, and probably wouldn't be much use against those magically healing supernatural assholes. He grabbed Melissa and pushed her off the vague 'path' they'd been following.

"Hide!" he whispered fiercely.

As the voices got closer, they crawled into a space between a bush and a tree trunk. It felt hopelessly inadequate, especially combined with their gasping breaths and very human scents. The Sheriff held Melissa to him protectively as they watched dark figures walk past. A blind man with a stick - and they recognised that voice - Scott.

Trying not to breathe, Melissa and the Sheriff waited until the two werewolves were long gone before they relaxed their muscles.

"What was Scott doing with the bad guy?" Melissa whispered, distraught. She was shaking again and clung to the Sheriff for support.

"There's nothing we can do about it," the Sheriff said heavily. He felt so tired and oddly comfortable - Melissa's body fit against his like a puzzle piece, radiating warmth and… oh, God, he had to stop thinking about it. This was perhaps the worst possible time to get a boner.

"I'm so tired I could just hide here all night," Melissa mumbled. "But we have to keep going."

They decided to go to the Sheriff's house - at least they would have some weapons there. The Sheriff fumbled with the lock and threw the door closed behind them with his whole body, finally letting his legs give out and sliding to the ground. Melissa collapsed next to him and rested her head on his shoulder, feeling numb. The first thought that floated across her mind was of Scott. Desperately hoping he was okay…

"Oh my God!" she cried out. "Scott and Stiles and the others - they still think we're trapped!"

She shook the Sheriff's shoulder, but he'd fallen asleep. She couldn't deny him that rest, so she stood up, every bone aching, and headed to the phone.

Melissa wiped away the tears she'd cried at hearing Scott's voice, how relieved he was, how he was still alive and now he knew she was okay, he could fight back for real. She headed back to the front door and nudged the Sheriff with her toe. They had to move further into the house, preferably closer to the weapons - the night wasn't over yet. When he didn't wake up, she grabbed his shoulder and shook it gently, eliciting a groan from the Sheriff. Frowning, she drew her hand away and then she saw it - blood. Red and thick, staining her fingers, oozing through the Sheriff's uniform.

Swearing profusely, Melissa snapped into nurse mode immediately. She rolled up her sleeves, swallowed her terror at losing the one man… the one man who had been there for her, had never disappointed her, had saved their lives. She started to unbutton his shirt and noticed that the Sheriff was half awake.

"It's a shame, I do love a man in uniform," Melissa joked, wanting to convince them both that it would be alright. "I just need to look… what happened?"

"…Miss Blake," he muttered weakly. "She stabbed me… twisted the knife a little… didn't really hurt until now…"

"Adrenaline," Melissa said shortly, finally peeling his shirt off his chest to examine the wound. It didn't seem too deep but he had obviously lost a lot of blood. "As soon as this is over, you are going straight to the hospital," she said sternly. "And in the meantime, you are not to go to sleep on me, okay? Now wait while I get something to patch you up with."

They sat side by side on the bed. Stiles's room happened to be closest to the cupboard holding the weapons.

"So this is how you intend to seduce me, huh?" Melissa teased, looking around at Stiles's posters and hand-painted action figures. They both laughed weakly, but silence followed. The Sheriff fidgeted nervously, remembering his thoughts from earlier that night. Melissa blushed at her own joke, imagining the Sheriff actually laying her down right here in his son's bed… his abs may have been covered in blood earlier, but that didn't disguise their impressive size.

Melissa looked over at the Sheriff. His eyelids were drooping dangerously.

"Hey! Stay with me, Sheriff! If you go to sleep now… well, I'll have to take you to hospital. And we both know that it's not safe out there."

He looked up at her.

"You're a good woman, Melissa," he said, words slightly slurred. "That asshole.. he made a mistake letting you go."

There was silence as Melissa, for once in her life, was lost for words. "Yeah, you're right," she finally said, "but we both know it was his loss. I'm better off without him."

The Sheriff nodded. Melissa watched him as he appeared to struggle with himself before his next sentence.

"Melissa, I… I think you're amazing. To think what Stiles's childhood would have been without you and Scott… I just, you're such a huge part of my life and I can't believe we had to almost die before I thanked you properly. You know?"

He was rambling and they both knew it. The air felt electric. Melissa, acting on impulse, took the Sheriff's hand.

"I know what you mean," she said quietly. "I know exactly how you feel… I mean, after the divorce I really relied on you for support. And you're really… well, you're really the only decent man in our lives." She blushed furiously. He could interpret that however he wanted. Melissa had a feeling she knew what was going on here, but the man was a widower for God's sake. She couldn't say - she couldn't tell him… and maybe it was just the stress, anyway. They did just escape a murdering lunatic together.

She felt his other hand cover hers and looked back up at him, hoping that her thoughts wouldn't be too obvious.

"I appreciate that," the Sheriff said seriously. He hesitated again.

"Melissa, I want you to know that… I think… you're really, um -" his voice was gruff, clearly embarrassed. "- you're really… amazing and - and beautiful."

Melissa stared at him quizzically. "Umm... thanks, Sheriff. Right back at you, " she said with an exaggerated wink. But he saw her blush. And he knew he had to say it before he chickened out, or even blacked out and died here on his son's bed.

"Melissa - I want you to know - I mean, I think.. I think I love you."

He felt her hand clench around his painfully and watched emotions run across her face. She probably thought she looked neutral but he knew her too well. Surprise, relief, pity, uncertainty, and finally… a smile. And before he knew what was happening, her smiling lips were touching his, and they were kissing gently, and it all felt long overdue.

Melissa broke contact briefly and whispered breathlessly, "Sheriff… I think… you may have to arrest yourself, because you have stolen my heart." She kept a straight face for about two seconds before laughing at her own joke. They both started to laugh and found it very difficult to stop. The accumulated stress from the last 24 hours was expelled violently in gales of laughter. The Sheriff's stab wound started to bleed again and Melissa's ribs felt like they were about to crack, but they both felt so blissful in that moment, transported to a time before werewolves and druids existed, a time when they would joke around while they waited for the boys to pack up their stuff…

The Sheriff finally caught his breath for long enough to say, "well, I could arrest myself, but I can think of better uses for these handcuffs…" His voice was lowered to an exaggerated seductive purr, which made Melissa's heart skip. His desire was badly concealed under the joke, and Melissa spared him the need to laugh at it by leaning forward and kissing him fiercely. She swiped her tongue against his lips and pushed it into his mouth to explore, moaning as he reciprocated. She hadn't enjoyed a good kiss in so long. They kissed hungrily and couldn't resist letting their hands roam. Somehow she ended up straddling his lap with one of his hands on her butt and the other under her shirt. They were both dirty and sweaty but it didn't seem to matter. She gasped when he kissed the sensitive skin on her neck. He shuddered when she sucked his earlobe, tickling his ear with her hot breath.

"I've wanted this… for so long," Melissa admitted between sighs and moans.

"Let's make up for lost time," the Sheriff growled. He rolled her onto her back and pinned her arms above her head with his left hand, watching her eyes flash and her body arch with desire. There would be time for handcuffs later, maybe after going on a real date. Tonight, he wanted to keep it simple. He kissed her hard.

"Melissa… trust me, there is nothing in the world that I want more than this, but if I, uh, finish right now I can guarantee you that I will fall asleep."

Melissa paused and looked up, pouting. "Oh, I knew you'd be the cuddling type," she teased, slowly pumping his dick with her right hand. He moaned desperately. "But you're right," Melissa sighed and let go. "You do need to get to hospital before you can rest. I'm sorry."

"Don't be," the Sheriff smiled.

It was at that moment that the door flew open.

Stiles was tired, cold, and completely unprepared for the sight of his smiling, topless father sitting with a raging erection pointing straight at some woman's face. In his bedroom. IN STILES'S BEDROOM.

There was a brief silence before three voices yelled out in alarm, and as he stumbled backwards, Stiles vaguely registered the fact that it wasn't just any woman there with his dad - it was Scott's mum. "What the FUCK?!" he yelled, rubbing his eyes furiously to try to erase the image from his head. "I can never un-see that, guys! I mean yeah, it's about fucking time, but that image will be in my head forever!"

Melissa and the Sheriff exchanged guilty looks as they scrambled for their clothes. They felt like teenagers, embarrassed and horrified and excited all at once. Neither of them missed the significance of the 'it's about time,' and it offered them some relief.

The Sheriff cleared his throat. "Uh… Stiles? You okay son?"

"If you discount the mental scarring you've inflicted on me, yeah," Stiles answered wearily. "Look, I'm going to sleep in your bed tonight. See you in the morning."

"Wait!" The Sheriff stepped into the hallway and found his son there, alive and well, and was overwhelmed with relief. He pulled Stiles into a hug and said gruffly, "I'm glad you're okay Stiles. We'll talk about all this tomorrow. And... I'll buy you a new bedspread."

Stiles nodded and said "dad, for the love of God, you need to get your boner away from me, like, right now."

They both laughed awkwardly and Stiles headed towards the Sheriff's bedroom. With his hand on the door, Stiles turned around, grinning widely. "Dad… it's okay. This may actually be one of the least strange things that's happened to me over the past year or so. And Melissa is great."

He shut the door behind him, and the Sheriff heard slightly hysterical laughter coming from the bedroom as he went back to Melissa. Well, it could have been much worse.

"Scott! Scott, sorry to wake you up dude but you'll never believe what just happened!"

"Stiles? What is it, what's wrong? I'll be right over - "

"Nothing's wrong, I mean - I'm kinda scarred for life but my mental health was already a lost cause, so -"

"Stiles, what is wrong?"

"I JUST WALKED IN ON OUR PARENTS DOING IT."

"…oh. You mean like… doing IT?"

"Yes, Scott, getting jiggy, doing the dirty, the bad boogie, bumping uglies - well it looked more like a blow job actually - but Scott! They were ON MY BED!" Stiles shuddered. There was silence on the other end of the phone. "Scott?"

"Stiles… I don't know what to say, except… you know what's cool? We could really be brothers one day."