Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf.
A/N: In this series of stories I'm working on the Sheriff found out about the supernatural at the end of Series 2. Anything past that is probably AU, but mostly it'll be aside works that have no actual baring on the canon plots.
Things in Beacon Hills were quiet, almost too quiet. But rather than viewing that fact with a very suspicious side-eye, the gang was relishing in the break. The fact that this coincided with Winter break was just icing on the cake. Nobody wanted to be chasing enchanted spider-monkeys when they could be kicking back with the xbox, playing call of duty. Which was exactly what Isaac, Scott and Stiles were doing.
Melissa was working the night shift and the Sheriff was giving evidence in court and would be staying the night out of town. So what better time to take advantage of the Stilinski's wide-screen?
It was early evening when it all turned to shit. It started, as it nearly always does, with Stiles.
"Hey, so did you guys know that there is a way for werewolves to get drunk, and I have that way right in here." Stiles lifted a little baggy filled with purple powder out of his school bag. "Who's in?"
Scott shook his head and returned to their abandoned game. "I guess you forgot what happened the last time we got caught drinking?"
Stiles scrunched up his nose. "Yeah but my Dad is out of town and I've got these." He reached back into his bag and bought out a six pack of cheap beer.
Scott yelped. "Are you crazy?!"
"Don't be such a dramawolf, Scott! It's foolproof. We got into trouble last time because he realized we had stolen from his cabinet, but this time Dad won't see anything missing and we won't leave any evidence - he'll never know!"
Scott frowned, weighing up the risk.
Isaac thought it was a good time to ask what the powdery stuff was.
"Wolfsbane." Replied Stiles.
Isaac recoiled.
Stiles flailed his arms around. "No! It's special wolfsbane, I got it from Deaton. It does something to your metabolism or whatever, makes you susceptible to alcohol and other illicit substances." He finished in a bad imitation of Deaton's voice.
"And why do we want to get drunk so badly?" Isaac asked.
"You're a sixteen year old male werewolf who has never been drunk." Stiles deadpanned.
"Fair point." He nodded, popping the tab of one of the beers. Scott went pale as Isaac opened another can and thrust it into Scott's hand and grabbed some dust. "What do we do now?"
A couple of hours later the trio were thoroughly buzzed and starting on their second six pack. They had moved onto Assassin's creed and were debating whether or not to order a pizza when they heard it. Or rather, when Scott heard it. He paused the game. "Was that your Dad's cruiser?"
"What? No! Couldn't be." Stiles fumbled away from the landline and looked out the window. He withdrew immediately, yelping. "Oh my God! Hide it, hide all of it!"
Scott ran around gathering debris and hiding it in random crevices in the kitchen as Stiles tried to position himself casually over the phone. Isaac watched all of this from the couch with a mixture of amusement and apprehension as the Sheriff opened the front door.
He paused in the doorway, evaluating the scene before him. "Stiles, Isaac." Stiles gave his Dad a dude nod and Isaac waved, stuck to the spot. Scott scrambled in from the kitchen and skid to a stop by the couch. "Scott."
"Hi, Sheriff." He replied eyes flickering guiltily to the alcohol cabinet in the corner.
The Sheriff followed Scott's gaze and his eyes narrowed. He suspected something, Isaac could tell. He had a sixth sense for suspicious parents.
"Dad?" Stiles said, diverting the Sheriff's attention. "You're home early."
"The defendant took a plea deal, my testimony wasn't necessary so I thought I'd surprise you with dinner. I've got curly fries." He held up a take away bag. "But unfortunately I forgot that Isaac and Scott were coming around and I don't have enough for everybody. You call up the Burger Grill for a delivery and I'll put these in the oven."
Scott squeaked and snatched for the bag. "I'll do it!"
The Sheriff held the bag just out of reach, smelling a rat. "I'll do it, Scott. You sit down with Stiles and Isaac and carry on with your game." He went through into the kitchen and Scott paled.
"Oh crap."
"What?" Hissed Stiles.
"I hid the empties in the oven." Moaned Scott.
"You idiot!"
None of them felt very good anymore. The buzz had worn off in the shock of the Sheriff turning up early and they were all queasy for when the Sheriff would realize they had been drinking behind his back. The trio waited nervously for their fates to be sealed.
The Sheriff came back in, holding a twisted can between his fingers. "Any explanations?"
They shook their heads. Isaac felt nervous. Not nervous of the Sheriff, he knew the man and he knew he wasn't anything like his Father was. He'd never take his anger out on his kid. No, he was nervous at how anxious Scott and Stiles were.
The Sheriff sighed heavily. "Corners now. All of you."
Stiles and Scott moved immediately, making their way to opposite corners of the room. "Wait what?" Isaac was, quite naturally, confused.
Stiles paused, blushing as he always does at being put in the corner like a five year old and looked at Isaac as if only just remembering that Isaac was there. "Dad can I take Issac home? He needs to go home. Like now."
The Sheriff shook his head. "No kid, you know the rules. You should of told Isaac before breaking them."
Stiles groaned and hid his face in the corner.
The Sheriff motioned for Isaac to stand up and he walked him to the last free corner in the room. Isaac sensed that it would be unwise to argue that he was too old to stand in the corner. The Sheriff put his hand on Isaac's shoulder and explained. "Stiles should have told you this, but in my house there are rules and - I don't care who you are - when you break them, you get spanked."
"What?" Isaac yelped as Scott thunked his head against the wall.
"Actions have consequences, Isaac. And in my house that's a spanking." The Sheriff paused. "Who are you living with now?"
"The McCalls, sir."
"Good. That's settled then." He turned Isaac until his nose was in the corner and went to the couch. He turned off the TV and paused again, realising something. "This isn't my beer, where did you get these?"
No one spoke. "Well I think it's safe to say that this beer was probably bought with a fake ID, so if nobody wants to come forward and tell the truth then I guess I'll have to punish you all for having one, just to be on the safe side."
Stiles groaned again. "It was me."
The Sheriff groaned too. "I am disappointed yet also unsurprised to hear that." He pinched the bridge of his nose, as if developing a headache.
Isaac subtly scented the room through his teeth. Scott was feeling as guilty as he was at disappointing the Sheriff, and apprehensive at the thought of a spanking; but Stiles was absolutely miserable. The Sheriff himself seemed pretty disappointed at being disappointed.
The Sheriff headed towards the stairs. "I'm going to get changed and have a shower. Don't leave your corners, no talking, and we'll have a chat about your actions when I get back."