He has been sat in the cells of the Sheriff station for two hours, there was a fight in a bar he had been at he had gotten himself a small quiet corner as he looked at the item he acquired. The box was cube shape like you expect it to be all sides were a dark shinny brown with a gold Triskelion. He couldn't help but run the tip of his fingers over the mark, if he closed his eyes he could almost feel the power of the mark tingle his hand. But then again this is his third whisky. He was trying to figure out how to open the box it seem to have no edges to a gap no hinges for a lid.
A teen slipped into the both and looked at him, his hands holding two drinks in front of him, he pushed one out to Ichabod and then tiled his head and watched the him. The English man took his drink and watched the boy with a raised eye brow "You looked lonely." The teen said, with a lop sided smile
"I was merely thinking young man."
"Young man I'm 19." He smiled as he took a sip of his rum and coke.
"You're younger than I." The Englishmen said, the teen got up on to his knees on the beach and grinned at him
"So you're older and English it must be my lucky day." He purred, Ichabod choked as the teen chuckled "Am I not your cup of tea? He asked, as he licked his lips.
"I have a couple of questions." Ichabod suddenly asked. The teen stood up and walked around the table and sat on his lap
"And?"
"Are you…a male …" He rolled his hand about unable to say the work, the whisky amber eyed boy rolled his eyes and sighed
"No him not a hooker I just liked to enjoy myself." He mumbled "Next question?" He whispered as he kissed along the man's jaw as his hand dipped under his shirt
"Ummm… okay well…are you a policemen?" He asked, he eyed the teen for a moment and saw the look on his face.
"No."
After that everything was a blur, they kissed and felt each other up for a little and they got up and the next thing he knew there was people throwing punches. Then he accidently elbow the sheriff's son in the face. He looked up when he heard rattling of key and a heavy door open. The footsteps are soft like there was no weight to them so when the boy from the bar last night he froze as he stood there holding his bag. The boy was still beautiful he had a thick black eye and busted lip that made him feeling guilty. "Ichabod Crane an Oxford history professor born in 1982. Wife dead and living with special agent FBI Abby Mills." The teen said, as he looked though the man's passport "These are good fakes, but I've seen better ones. I've made better ones."
Ichabod stood there with his mouth hanging open looking at him at him in shock…maybe I should have hit him harder…he thought "You said you weren't a cop." He said, the teen gave him a brilliant smile that had the man's heart skipping.
"I'm not, my friend's dad is FBI and also a cop's son. This isn't my first fake ID." He smirked "I will however explain to my dad what is going on if you tell me why you have a box that belongs to the Hale pack?" He asked, Ichabod blue eyes widen as he held up a small box with the Triskelion mark on it
"You know what it is?" He asked, the teen raised an eye brow and hummed as he turn the box around in his hand before looking back at him
"Yes I do, why do you have it?" He asked the Englishman,
"If I tell you will you help me get out of here?" The teen hummed once again and open the box without a problem and poured to items onto his hands
"Please tell me." Stiles asked, with the teen of amusement to his voice
"I believe they will help us absorb the powers of a god." He said, Stiles looked at him and Ichabod sighed thinking that the boy didn't believe him. Why would he believe him it is crazy however crazy is part of his world "Look I know it's hard to believe but the supernatural world ex..."
"Oh I don't have trouble with that concept Mr Crane, it's just that these claws will absorb the power but not of a god and you need to be a werewolf just to get these babies to work. You are human." The Englishman looked at the teen as he put the claws back into the box and then looked at him, the boy turned to look down the hall "He is all yours Yoda." Stiles walked passed him with a smile as an older man walked up to the cell.
The man stood there with a small smile on his face "That boy…." Ichabod started to say, the older man chuckled and shook his head
"Yeah Stiles he can be a really head turner when he wants to be." He said, as he turned his head to the door "My name is Alan Deaton, I had a call from Jenny Mills a couple of days ago telling me that you are up my neck of my words."
"You know Miss Mills?" He asked
"We have crossed paths a few times." He told him "I have had a word with the sheriff and if you promises not get into any more fights or shove your tongue down his son's throat he will let you go and the pack will help you."
Ichabod stood there his hands resting on the bar's frowning as he thought of the boy called Stiles. There was something about the teen that made his heart beat fast and his skin itch with a need. "I promises no more fights unless it's with the forces of darkness and I will not 'shove my tongue down his son's throat.' And what is with this word pack?" He asked he asked. Deaton smile at him and look to a deputy who walked up to the cells and unlocks the cell door.
"Werewolves, there are two of them, but they work as one. Stiles is a member of both them. This young deputy here is part of McCall pack." Ichabod turned and looked at Deputy
"Jorden Parrish, Hell Hound." He smiled and held out his hand to him
"Ichabod Crane, 200 year old human." He said as he shook his head, Jorden let his smile drop as he leaned in to Ichabod
"Don't touch Stiles again."
After he was let out of the cells Stiles was stood outside waiting for him "Come with me Prince Charming." The teen smirked as he walked over to a blue jeep. Ichabod stood there blinking in shock
"W…What about your father and Mr Deaton and Deputy Parrish?" He asked, Stiles chuckled but shook his head
"Get in the jeep." He smiled "I promises I will be good." He told him as the English mas walks over to the jeep and then climbed inside, the teen leaped into the jeep and then started to drive
"Where are we going?" He asked
"I'm taking you to my friend's loft he has a lot of old books there you can have a flick though, Deaton has already told you of what you need to be looking for so I will give you a head start and say the Hale books might help. You need something absorb a lot of power and quickly as I said you are on the right tack but you need to be a werewolf and unless you're willing to take the bite your out of luck." He told him Ichabod was quiet as he looked at the slim teen sporting a black eye, he has little moles that dotted his on his face and it had him wondering if they were dotted elsewhere on the pretty figure. Turning his head away and coughing on his thoughts
"Well apart from being an uncontrollable monster during the full moon why can't I be a werewolf?" He asked, Stiles snorted and shook his head
"Harsh dude, you know nothing of the werewolves' world. As long as you have an anchor, something to keep you rooted to your human side you are a cuddly doggy." He smirked "Also there is a 50% chance you will die from the bite, about 16% you stay human another 16% you will be something else and 16.2% you will be a werewolf." He babbled
"I am so glad I understand rambling babble." The brown haired man muttered as they drove down the road. Ichabod was trying to warp his mind around the fact that werewolves are real…well why not?...
