Just a fluffly little ficlet to try and bust through my writer's block. I asked Adri for a prompt, and she suggested a future fic with family!Sterek. This is what happened. It's my first foray into writing Teen Wolf and Derek may seem a little out of character, but I think it fits him, since he managed to become happy in the ten years between TW canon and this fic. Unbeta'd.
Please review!
Chocolate Pancakes, Strawberries, and Milk
Stiles is a heavy sleeper and likes to stay in bed until noon on the rare occasion that he can; which is why Derek's not surprised that Stiles isn't responsible for the shifting weight on his chest and the giggles muffled by the bedspread. For the same reason, he's also unsurprised that his husband's light snores and steady heartbeat remain undisturbed by the small squirming mass attracting Derek's attention.
He feigns sleep just long enough to convince their daughter she's gotten away with her not-so-sneaky attempt to crawl between them. When she's almost settled, he moves quickly, trapping her with one arm and rolling her to the outside of the bed away from Stiles. He blows a raspberry into her neck and she squeals, though she quiets with a hiccup when Derek raises a finger to his lips and points to Stiles, who has snorted and shifted in his sleep, but is settling without really waking.
"Papa," she scolds in a dramatic whisper, lisping adorably, "you scareded me."
Derek grins widely, in a way he thought he'd forgotten after the loss of his family. He'd been filled with grief and loss for so many years, but the ability to laugh and play had slowly come back to him after Stiles stubbornly inched himself into his life and heart. It had become almost normal to see Derek laughing and smiling since the birth of their daughter four and a half years earlier.
"You mean I scared you, Princess," Derek corrects. He receives a wide-eyed, solemn nod in return. She has Stiles' eyes, innocent and heart-warming, even when she's being devious. Maybe especially when she's being devious. Although she isn't Derek's, genetically speaking, she is his daughter in every way that counts and can perfectly mimic all of his expressions, including what Stiles calls his Serious-Sourwolf-Face. (And God knows the rest of the pack love to tease him when they see his most commanding Alpha expression on the face of a tiny girl with curls and dimples, demanding cookies.) It leaves him somewhere between exasperated and proud; that she can somehow manage to be recognizable as entirely theirs, that Derek can see not only Stiles in their daughter, but himself as well. The only trait Natalie seems to have inherited from Erica is her curly blonde hair, and of course, the fact that she's a werewolf. Derek likes to think, privately, that she got that from him since he's the one who bit her biological mother in the first place.
He picks up their little girl and slides out of bed, grateful that years of parenting have taught him and Stiles to always put pants or boxers on before falling asleep. Derek glances back at the bed as he hears movement and watches as Stiles stretches to sprawl across the now empty space and wrap his arms around Derek's pillow. They exit the room and he pulls the door closed quietly before speaking again. "What have I told you about sleeping in your own bed?"
Natalie lets out a put-upon sigh before she schools her features and blinks at him, as innocently as she can manage. "That my bed is for my sleepin' and your bed is for you and Daddy's sleepin'. 'Cept if I have a nightmare but I got to ask 'fore I climb up."
She's leaning back now, crossing her arms and staring at Derek as though he's done something ridiculous. When Derek and Stiles are alone, his husband calls it her Bitch-Please face. Derek never tells him that, actually, it's Stiles' Bitch-Please face, she's just borrowing it.
"So why did you break the rule?" he asks with a patience that had been foreign to him before Natalie's birth, sitting her on the couch and kneeling on the floor in front of her so he can look her straight in the eye.
The eye-roll she gives is adorable, but he knows that as she gets older, it won't be. He and Stiles have agreed that they need to curb her attitude, at least until she is old enough to be sassy without also being bratty. Instead of giving into the urge to laugh, Derek frowns, furrowing his brow and trying to look unimpressed with her behavior. She pulls the same face back at him, making it harder for him to stay stern. After a few moments of deadlock she gives up, widening her eyes and shaking her head.
"But I didn't, Papa."
Derek raises an eyebrow at her, and she shakes her head again, more emphatically this time.
"I wasn't gonna sleep, silly. I was just going to cuddle you and Daddy, just for a minute, I promise." She looks sincere, and Derek has to remind himself that she still broke a rule. And no, being cute doesn't change that.
"Why didn't you ask, Princess?"
She pouts at him, looking betrayed. Derek wonders if he'll ever manage to become used to her emotional blackmail, or if she's just going to get better at it with more practice.
"'Coz if I asked from far away then Daddy might have woked up. I just wanted some hugs then I was gonna wake just you up really quiet 'coz I wanna make Daddy a surprise breakfast 'coz when he's my teacher next week I want him to like me but you said I can't cook by myself." She pauses for a moment then adds, "Even though I'm a big girl and I know how."
"Silly," Derek chides. Years of listening to Stiles' chatter has left him easily able to follow his little girl's rambling, "Daddy loves you, you know that."
Natalie huffs at him, clicking her tongue as though Derek has missed the point entirely. He's going to have to talk to Stiles about reigning in the sarcasm around their daughter, though he suspects it's a little too late for that.
"I know, Papa. He loves me as my Daddy," she replies, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, "but what if he doesn't love me as my teacher? What if he likes the other kids better than me?"
Derek stifles the urge to laugh at her childish logic, knowing it will only make her upset. She's nervous about starting Kindergarten, has been for the last few weeks, and needs reassurance. "I don't think that's possible. Daddy would need to be crazy to like someone else better than you." She folds her arms, clearly not appeased, so he changes tactics. "But…I'm sure he'd really appreciate breakfast in bed. Maybe we can make him pancakes."
She beams at him, eyes suddenly brighter as she straightens in her seat so fast that her curls bounce. "Chocolate ones? With straw'bies and milk?"
"Of course," he agrees, standing and making his way to the kitchen as she skips excitedly behind him, "since we're making Daddy breakfast in bed it should be his favorite."
He lifts Natalie easily onto the counter, her small legs swinging back and forth over the edge happily as he gathers everything they will need.
The bedroom door opens and Stiles shuffles out slowly, rubbing his eyes.
"Hey…what's going on?"
Natalie gasps, spreading her arms wide and nearly falling off the counter in an attempt to hide what they are doing. Derek reaches out and grips her arm before she can fall.
Completely unaffected by her near accident, she calls to Stiles before he can come any closer. "No Daddy! You aren't allowed out here! You have to be asleep!"
Stiles locks eyes with Derek over their daughter's head. Derek nods with a shrug, and Stiles looks bemused. "You're right. I'm really sleepy. In fact, I'm still asleep. Right now. I'm sleepwalking." Natalie giggles. Stiles closes his eyes and holds his arms in front of him, looking far more like a zombie than a sleepwalker, in Derek's opinion. He lets out a fake snore, then mumbles, "I'll just sleepwalk back to bed. Where I'll stay."
He stumbles into the doorframe, and Derek sees his eyes crack open slightly so he can disappear into the bedroom without further incident. Derek glances at their little girl, who is beaming up at him again, satisfied that her surprise hasn't been ruined.
"Hurry up, Papa!" she urges. "Daddy might wake up soon!"
Derek grins. Ten years ago, he could never have imagined this would be his life. Now, he can't imagine any differently.