This story is a collaboration between TheCatalystX and Hurricane.'97

Disclaimer: Neither of us own Teen Wolf. If we did, a lot would be different... *Cough, cough* season 4

We would love to hear your thoughts :) There don't seem to be too many fem!Stiles stories running around this site, so hopefully you guys will enjoy this! (We personally see female Stiles as the actress Mae Whitman, especially in her role in The DUFF.)

The cover was created by JackieOh. To our benevolent artist: thank you, you beautiful land mermaid. This first chapter is dedicated to you! :)

Let us know what you think in a review please!

Preface:

If I Were A Boy

1. I would pee standing up. Think of the time that would save!

2. My dad and I might have more in common.

3. People wouldn't assume Scott and I are secretly in love.

4. Scratch that last one, yes they would. People suck.

5. I might have been fast enough to evade the police that night, thereby avoiding Scott getting bitten altogether.

6. I might have been fast enough to evade the police that night, thereby taking Scott's place and getting bitten instead.

7. I would probably be a lot more frustrated. Looking at you, testosterone.

8. Lydia Martin might actually love me back. Still looking at you, testosterone.

9. Nothing would change. It would all be the same.

10. Everything would be different.

Chapter One:

Sheriff dropped the mug in his hand and it landed on the desk with a loud crash. Hot, dark liquid spilled and flooded across all the files and documents he had laid out. He quickly tucked his phone between his ear and his shoulder. "Crap—hold on."

"Sheriff?" The tinny voice of his deputy sounded hesitant.

"Yeah—hang on, I just spilled some coffee." He shook out a dripping paper in a vain attempt to salvage it. "It's fine, I'm just—let's be clear here. Did you say a body was found in the woods?"

"Well, sort of…"

"Sort of? What do you mean sort of?" Sheriff removed the button down that he had layered over his white t-shirt and balled it up. He pressed it to the largest area of spilled coffee as he spoke. "Did you find a body or not?"

"Well—that's the thing. Two joggers stumbled across half of it."

Sheriff frowned. "Half of what?"

"Half of the body, sir."

He froze. For a long moment neither of them spoke. Once the Sheriff had composed himself, he was able to respond. "Were you able to get an ID?"

"There's not much to go off. Female, Jane Doe. Long dark hair. Probably in her twenties. She… She's naked. What kind of sick freak would—" The deputy's sentence trailed off, getting nastier and more pointed as it went on.

Sheriff sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Okay… okay, I want you to call the coroner—"

"Already did, sir. We're just waiting on you."

"I'm going to call in the state."

"Sir?"

"We aren't equipped to handle this on our own, Rachel. I don't want to make any mistakes here."

"Yes, sir."

Sheriff opened the drawer of his desk and grabbed his gun and his badge. Holstering his weapon, he told his deputy to expect him in about fifteen minutes. The mess on his desk would have to wait. He had a crime scene to handle.

He flicked the lights out and looked to the door. Something stood in the door of the hallway. A figure, darkened out except for the light that spilled in from the hall. His hand flew to his weapon and he immediately aimed it at the chest.

"BACK UP!" His bellow mixed with a shrill scream.

The figure flailed backwards in her haste to scramble away from the range of the gun. "STOP! Dad! God, it's Stiles! Your daughter!"

Sheriff's heart nearly exploded and he panted heavily while his daughter still clung to the wall of the hallway for dear life. Strands of her dark wet hair stuck to her face and she let out a loud sigh of exasperation. "God, dad! The gun, put the freaking gun down!"

"Oh," He dropped his hands and quickly holstered his gun again. "Don't do that! How many times do we have to have this conversation?"

"What?" Stiles sputtered as she finally stepped away from the wall, her arms gesturing incredulously. "What conversation, dad, there was no conversation, you just pointed a gun in my face!"

"Which wouldn't have happened if you hadn't been looming there like—like Samara!"

"What, dad, The Ring? How do I look like Samara I don't even—" She touched the soft fabric of her robe which hung off her slender frame like a gown and closed her mouth. "Huh…"

Sheriff squeezed past her and she finally noticed that he seemed to be getting ready to leave.

"Whoa, where are you going now?" She asked, trailing after him and taking note of how hasty he was moving around the house. It was like a montage from a bad movie, her father popping across the hall from room to room without stopping. All that was missing was a Benny Hill theme to play over it. "What's going on?"

He came out of the bathroom with a stick of deodorant and proceeded to lift his shirt and apply it whilst simultaneously going into his bedroom to shove his feet into his boots without sitting.

"Hello?" Stiles persisted, but her father was lost deep in thought. His face was creased with concern and that only made her more anxious. "Dad?" She said to the bathroom door as it shut in her face after he popped back inside.

Wryly, Stiles turned around to face the opposite wall of the hallway and gestured to it. "Should I use my invisibility to fight crime, or for evil?" She mused aloud, and the door of the bathroom opened again.

"I have to go. There's a crime scene that I need to go to."

"What?" Stiles trailed after her father. "Where?!"

He cast her a wary glance before he responded. "The Preserve." Stiles looked away thoughtfully and Sheriff put his finger up as if to silence her. "But! You better stay at home, are you listening to me young lady?"

Stiles laughed hollowly and waved him off. "Of course I'm going to stay at home! What, do you think I'm suicidal or something? That's the first thing that the girl in the scary movie would do, and do you know what happens to the girls in the scary movies? They get slaughtered. Tortured first, then ripped apart slowly, piece by gruesome piece. Serial killers. Rapists. Predators, all on the prowl—no, no sir, I am not interested. Count me out. I'll be sitting in my room, playing video—" She broke off at the glare she received from her father. Clearing her throat, she corrected, "Sleeping. I'll be sleeping to get a full night's rest."

Sheriff sighed and looked at her tiredly. "I'm serious, Stiles. This isn't a joke."

Stiles put up her hands in surrender. "Who's joking? I was being serious. People are freaks. You think I wanna get kidnapped by some pedophile with a foot fetish? I need those for lacrosse. And, walking. And my future career in the NBA. What? I could do it! I'm quick! Wouldn't you be proud to father the first ever female—"

"Okay, alright, stop talking," Sheriff finally waved his hand to silence her. He grabbed his coat from the hanger by the door and revealed the crisp, cool night air. "Just go to bed, Stiles. I'll be home soon. I love you."

"I love—you… too…" She said to the door that shut in her face. Sighing, she dropped her hands from their defensive position and let them smack against her thighs. The house was quiet now. Empty.

Five minutes later, Stiles was bounding out the front door of the house and barely slowed enough to lock the door behind her. She was about to step away from the door when she thought of her earlier monologue about girls in horror movies getting killed because they did exactly the sort of stupid shit she's about to go do. She shook her head and turned to run for her jeep.

What's the worst that could happen? Her dad and basically the entire police force of California would be out there in the woods with them anyways. They won't know, of course, but still… they'd only be a shout away.

Better take my taser, just for precaution.

Scott was dreaming.

Emphasis on the was. Past tense.

He was dreaming, until he was woken up by a whisper of 'Scott!' and scared shitless by the shadow of a woman standing over his bed, her clawed hand reaching out towards him.

"AHHH!" He pushed the figure away, crawling away and falling on the other side of his bed. Just as he was about to run away screaming (his masculinity be damned) he stopped short when he heard a familiar voice cursing him to the gods.

"—and then let them use your scrawny bones as toothpicks, you puppy eyed sonofa—"

"Stiles?" Scott stared at the curled up form of his best friend lying on the floor.

He stumbled in the dark to turn on the lights in his room. He turned to look at Stiles, blinking to adjust his eyes to the sudden light.

Stiles was by now sitting cross legged, one hand on her nose and her eyes glaring at him. "You hit me!"

"What the hell are you doing here?" Scott could not think of a single reason for Stiles to be there so late at night. And... how did she even get inside the house? His Mom made him double check that all the doors and windows were closed before she left for her late shift.

Scott blinked at his friend and decided he didn't want to know.

"My nose really hurts, you know." Stiles got up from the floor, adjusting her hoodie.

"Stiles." Scott stressed.

"And why'd you scream like that anyway?" Stiles shoved her hands in her hoodie, the annoyance on her face replaced by amusement.

Scott flushed. "I thought you were a ghost!"

Stiles snorted.

"It was your fault anyway! Why were you standing over my bed in the dark like that? And why are you in my room this late?" Scott scooped up the blanket that had fallen down with him in his heroic attempt at running away.

"Oh, yeah!" Stiles exclaimed, taking out a flashlight from her back pocket and shining it under her face. "Put on some pants, Scott, cause we're going on an adventure!"

"What? No!" Cried Scott. "Dude, you know I planned to wake up early for lacrosse tomorrow."

"Forget lacrosse!" Stiles exclaimed which made Scott look at Stiles in surprise. He was tempted to look out the window and check the sky for flying pigs. "Dude, my Dad just left about thirty minutes ago. Dispatch called. They said that two joggers found a body in the woods."

"A body?" Scott repeated, shocked. "You mean like a—a dead body?"

Stiles rolled her eyes. "No dumbass, a body of water." Sarcasm. So he wasn't dreaming. "Yes, a dead body! They said they found a girl in her twenties. A Jane Doe."

"Wait. If they already found the dead body," Scott started thinking. "Then what are they looking for?"

Stiles blinked at him, hands fidgeting with the flashlight in her hands. "They're trying to find the other half, of course."

Scott nodded. "The other half of what?" He almost didn't want to know the answer.

"The other half of the dead body."

Scott took a deep breath. "And what does that have anything to do with you being in my room right now?"

Stiles grinned.

Scott grimaced. "No."

"Oh, yesss." Stiles nodded her head repeatedly, picking up clothes piled up on his chair and throwing them at Scott. "We are going to find the other half of the dead body!"

"No!" Scott exclaimed, spluttering when a sock hit him in the face. "Stiles, I'm not coming to find a dead body—"

"Half of a dead body."

"I'm not coming to find a dead body with you." Scott stated, firmly. "And nothing you say will convince me to come with you."

Stiles just stared at him for a moment, before she cracked her fingers and cleared her throat.

Ten minutes later, Scott was sulking in the passenger seat of Stiles' blue jeep, with Stiles vibrating with excitement in the driver's seat.

"This is a bad idea," Scott repeated for the thousandth time that night. "This is a really, really bad idea. Why do I let you talk me into these things!?"

Stiles pursed her lips defiantly. "Scotty, you've gotta open your mind a little!"

Scott balked and whirled on his friend in disbelief.

Oblivious, she continued. "Not everything is a danger! How are we ever going to learn anything for ourselves if we don't make some mistakes first?"

"So you're admitting that this is a mistake," Scott deduced, his finger in the air. Stiles scowled and turned to park the jeep under the cover of the trees at the edge of the Preserve.

She turned to her friend with a meaningful expression. "Trust me. This is a story you're going to want to tell to your grandkids fifty years from now."

"So that I can warn them not to be so stupid—" But his efforts were in vain, because Stiles rolled her eyes and promptly turned her back on her friend, getting out of the jeep.

Stiles is going to be totally honest when she admits there are risks to her not-so-thought-out-plan to delve deep into the woods in the middle of the night where a body was found mere hours ago.

But in approximately seven hours from now, this story was about to be the biggest news that happened to the town since… since ever. And right now, there's a very small window of time when she and Scott have the opportunity to become apart of this moment in Beacon Hills history!

What if they're actually the ones to find the missing half of the body? Would it be gruesome? Hell yeah! But personally, Stiles suspects it might be kind of cool. Scott is afraid, and that's rational, sane even—but what he isn't considering is that if they find the other half of the body, that means they'll get to go on live television with the local news team and tell the world about their bravery. And that means they'll get noticed in school, which directly increases their shot at popularity.

How many kids their age around here can say that? Not many. Exactly two, in fact, and Stiles would be damned if she'd let this opportunity pass them by.

Plus, it'll really make a kick ass story once it's all said and done.

"I thought we could start here," Stiles said in an effort to make it seem like there was some sort of plan she was following, for Scott's sake. She pointed the flashlight beam through the rain to indicate the direction she wanted to take and then purposefully guided him into a trail in the woods, and he pulled his hood up and followed reluctantly.

"Where are we going towards?" Scott asked.

Crap. She hadn't thought he'd ask that. Stiles wove a path through some trees as she said, "Uh… Well, that's a good question. If we're going to find the body we probably need to go pretty deep into the woods, right? I mean, let's face it, this wasn't a tree falling in the woods. This was a girl getting brutally murdered. There would be screams, right? It would be loud and messy and if I were the killer I'd want to keep her as far from the road as possible, to minimize the chance of her escape."

She turned back to look at Scott and hesitated when she caught sight of his pale, scandalized expression. Stiles cleared her throat and laughed, grabbing his elbow to pull him along. "Hey, Scott, we're doing our civic duty here! We're helping this girl! She would want to be found, right? Her family is going to want her found. So let's go find her!"

Scott sighed. "Yeah, but why do we have to find her? Isn't that the police's job?"

Stiles rolled her eyes. "Scott, trust me. Okay? This is our chance at our big break!"

She knew that Scott wanted to add more, but then they started to climb a rather steep hill, and he started losing his breath. He took out his inhaler and gave it a shake. It was running on fumes—and he was already starting to wheeze from exertion. "But—what if…" He huffed. "What if something happens?"

"Something like what?" Stiles turned to wait on Scott at the top of the hill. He thanked her as she pulled him over the top and waited for him to finish his thought.

"Like what if we find the body and…" He sighed and took a deep breath. "And we don't have any cellphone service?"

Crap! She hadn't thought of that. "I don't know, we'll send up a smoke signal!"

"A smoke signal?" Scott exclaimed, partly in amusement, partly in exasperation. "You watch too many movies!"

Stiles continued to lead him through the woods, and he continued to pepper her with what-if questions. She did her best to either deflect or debunk each of them, but some of them were really catching her by surprise.

Much to Scott's dismay, Stiles suggested that they get to even higher ground. As she led him up another hill it became evident that Scott needed to take a break. He stopped to lean against a tree in the middle of the hill and shook his inhaler roughly before he took in a long breath. "Maybe… the severe asthmatic… should be the one to hold the flashlight, huh?"

Stiles grinned and went to scope out the view from the top of the hill. Off in the distance, a line of policemen combed the woods with flashlights in their hands. She cursed and dropped to the leaf-littered ground.

Scott collapsed next to her and frantically whispered, "We're not supposed to be out here! What do we do!?"

"Come on!"

She leapt up and scrambled over a root that jutted out of the ground, stumbling in the process. But even as her feet slid through the leaves and mud, she kept hurrying along, desperate to put some much needed distance between the police and themselves.

"Stiles!" Scott called. "Wait for me! Stiles!"

Keeping low to the ground and an eye on the police, she frantically waved at him to hurry. He stumbled over the forest floor behind her and scrambled to keep up. She turned to wait for him and then did a double take when Scott was nowhere to be seen. She turned all around and almost called for him.

A dog's vicious bark scared the crap out of her and she threw herself back in shock, falling to the ground with a muted, "Oof!"

Her heart was in her throat and a flashlight was in her face as she turned over and scrambled back from the police dog that still tried to take a hunk out of her ankle. "Stay right there!" A police officer screamed as she flailed on the ground and put her hands up.

"Hang on, hang on!" Sheriff called off, irritation clear in his voice. "This little delinquent belongs to me…"

Stiles' heart fell to her stomach and her mind immediately raced with excuses as she withdrew her hands from her face to peer up at the livid face of her father looming over her.

"H-Hey, Dad," She stuttered, her voice breaking with nerves. "How're ya doin?"

One of the female officers grabbed her by the arm and tugged her to her feet. She smiled awkwardly at her and backed up to lean against a tree, clutching at her chest where her heart was still racing. She was light headed from all the excitement.

"Stiles," The officer flatly greeted. "Why am I not surprised to see you out here?"

"Because you know I have a curious mind?" She lamely suggested, causing the officer to snort in derision.

Sheriff sighed and squinted at her in the dark. He looked soaked, evidence that he'd been out in the rain all night. "So do you listen into all my calls, young lady?"

"No!" She paused at his unconvinced stare and scrunched her nose at him. "Well not the boring ones…"

He nodded knowingly and looked around. "And where's your usual partner in crime?"

"Who, Scott?" She scoffed dismissively and waved him off. "That stick in the mud is at home! He wanted to get a full night's rest before lacrosse and the first day back at school tomorrow."

Sheriff exchanged a skeptical glance with the female officer who still lingered nearby, nodding at her to indicate that she should go search for Scott despite Stiles' words.

Stiles stiffened and made a conscious effort not to look back in the direction she'd last seen Scott. "It's just me…" she emphasized. "In the woods alone."

The officer began to flash her light through the woods and calling for Scott. She prayed that her best friend had long ago high tailed it out of there and put enough distance to get back to the jeep.

The thought was comforting, so she grasped it tightly and inwardly insisted that he would be waiting at the jeep when she got back. And when her Dad no doubt escorted her back to said jeep, they would just have to think of an excuse to why Scott was there.

She was already concocting a story in her mind as her Dad grabbed her around the shoulders and launched into a lecture about invasion of privacy, leading her away.

He wasn't there. Scott wasn't at the jeep waiting, like she'd assumed he would be. She tried not to panic. She really tried.

He wasn't helpless without her! He was really smart, most of the time. No, all of the time, that was mean to say. He's smart all of the time. Mostly. He can find his way home!

He's fully prepared to handle navigating his way through the Preserve with his… limited knowledge of its layout and… no flashlight and… a potential dead body he didn't even want to see, oh god, it was all her fault!

Scott's going to get kidnapped by a freak with a foot fetish and it's all her fault!

She should call her dad. She should call her dad.

But no, Scott's probably fine. He's smart.

And alone, and asthmatic and lost in the middle of the woods in the rain at night where a murderer could be on the loose—

She picked up her phone to call her dad, but before she could hit her speed dial it began to ring. Stiles cried out in relief at Scott's name that flashed across the screen.

"Scott!" She exclaimed, worry causing her voice to break awkwardly. "What happened?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine," He reassured her. "I'm fine. I'm at home. What about you? Are you okay? Is your dad mad?"

"He's—" Stiles broke off and thought it over. "Dad's not happy but he's used to me. Remember the time I hid in the back of his cruiser to follow him to a drug bust?"

"Yeah," Scott snorted knowingly. "Are you grounded?"

"He didn't say," She admitted. "But the outlook is good. The school year just started, I don't think he wants to ground me to the house just yet."

"That's good," Scott breathed. "Do you think he'll tell my mom?"

"No. Why?" Stiles frowned. "I told him you were home. He has no idea you were out there."

"Yeah," Scott sighed, though he sounded unconvinced. "Hey, listen…"

"What?" Stiles dreadfully encouraged.

"I'm basically okay, but something happened in the woods after you left."

"What!? Tell me every detail!"

After Scott explained his story in second by second detail, there was a long pause as Stiles digested the information. "I missed all the good stuff," she lamented.

"Stiles!" Scott exclaimed with a snort. "Seriously? That's what you take away?

"Okay, I'm sorry! It's just, a stampede of deer?"

"Yeah, I've never seen anything like it," He admitted. "Have you?"

"Well I know animals can sense like… danger." Stiles poorly explained. "Like if an earthquake is about to happen or a tornado is coming then they'll basically lose their minds before we even know it's coming."

"It was like that!" Scott exclaimed. "Something scared them."

"And what did you say attacked you?"

"It was—" Scott broke off in frustration. "It's hard to explain. It definitely wasn't human."

"Are you sure?" Stiles asked. "If it was human, we need to tell my Dad."

"No," Scott loudly persisted. "I swear! It wasn't a human. It was… it's hard to explain."

"You said that already!" Stiles told him in frustration.

"Well it is!"

"Well try."

"I don't know; it happened so fast! But I swear it wasn't human. It's like it pounced on me from above."

"Was it up in a tree?" She tried to reason.

"No, no," He said. "It was on a hill sort of? I don't know… It moved really fast though."

"You said you fell?" Stiles asked.

"Yeah, why?"

"Well maybe…" She trailed off with a sigh. Maybe he hit his head and misinterpreted the events from all his adrenaline.

"What?"

"No, nothing."

"What?"

"It was just another scared animal! I mean Scott, a murder happened in the woods recently. Do you get that?"

"Yes!" Scott exclaimed. "I was attacked! Of course I get that!"

"Well—I'm just saying, the animals could be—you know. Disrupted! Or disturbed, traumatized, whatever! And you even said that the deer seemed scared! That's what you said! So is it really such a leap to say that whatever attacked you was just another frightened animal?"

"It wasn't," He insisted. "It was watching me before it attacked."

"You said it happened fast though."

"It did! As soon as I noticed it, it came for me!"

"Okay, Scott—what do you think it was?"

Scott paused and the line grew quiet. "This is gonna sound crazy," He warned. "But have you ever heard of a chupacabra?"

Stiles immediately erupted into laughter and Scott jumped to defend himself.

"Listen!" He exclaimed. "Listen to me, I was watching the discovery channel the other day, and—and this thing was like a dog, okay? It was like a huge dog, or—more like a wolf! But not like a wolf, because I've never heard of a wolf being so huge and it didn't have a whole lot of fur!"

"Oh, or maybe you were abducted by aliens!" Stiles sarcastically gasped. "Who knows how many times you were probed, Scott!"

"No!" Scott argued. "Stiles, I would remember something like that!"

"But actually, no you wouldn't," She countered.

There was a pause and Scott finally responded, his voice thick with confusion. "I wasn't probed, and I wasn't abducted by aliens!"

"Or were you?"

"Stiles!" He shouted. "Stop messing around! I'm really freaked out, okay! Something bit me! I'm bleeding, do you get that?"

"Chill!" She told him. "You're too worked up over this, use your inhaler."

"I CAN'T, I LOST IT!"

"…Did Bigfoot take it?"

Scott's voice went shrill with exasperation as he began to curse her out, and she erupted into laughter. As the reality of the situation began to set in and Scott overheard her laughing, his anger dissipated and he breathed out a grudging laugh. "You're an asshole," He told her, though she could hear the smile in his voice.

"Yeah, and lucky you, I'm your asshole," She smirked. He sighed and they discussed his wound a little before agreeing to reconvene tomorrow morning. It was almost three o'clock, which meant they had to be up in five hours. Tomorrow would be interesting.