Living with a dragon
I don't own Teen Wolf or any of the characters in the series, I'm just borrowing them from their respective owners to play with a little and I promise to give them back when I'm done. No copyright infringement is intended and I don't make any money from writing fanfiction.
Sparkle and shine
"Please?"
"No."
"Pretty please?"
"No."
"But it's really nice, see?"
"Still no."
"But Peteeeeeer" Stiles pouted.
"Still no." Peter refused to budge. He was not going to lose this battle, he was not going to buy Stiles a goddamn soup ladle and he was not going to fall for the puppy eyes. Period.
"But it's so shiny" Stiles practically whimpered, holding up the spoon so close for inspection that he was in danger of hitting the older man in the face. "Don't you see the way the light makes it all nice and sparkly and glawsome?"
"I'm pretty sure that 'glawsome' isn't a real word, Stiles" Peter said, sighing a little. "And you should put it down, we're leaving now."
"Is too" Stiles pouted but he actually, lo and behold, put the spoon back on the shelf without making too much of a fuss about it. Clearly Peter's parenting skills were better than he'd thought them to be. "A word, I mean. It means glowing and awesome at the same time."
"Is not" Peter said, adopting the same childish tone of voice as he ushered the child closer to the store's exit. "Come on, I'll buy you ice cream on the way home if you behave." Stiles immediately perked up.
"From Izzie's?" he asked eagerly, eyes wide with hope and Peter felt his resolve steadily melt away. He had planned to go to the nearest ice cream place but there was simply no way of denying Stiles anything when he looked like that. He sighed and inwardly cursed the power of those big, bambi eyes.
"From Izzie's" he confirmed and without further prompting Stiles was suddenly already halfway down the road, shouting at Peter to hurry up as the older man followed him at a more sedate pace.
If Peter had thought that distracting the young boy with ice cream to forget about the soup ladle had been a good idea, he was soon to be proven wrong. Very, very wrong. Because Izzie's was an all-out fifties themed, American diner style kind of ice cream parlor with lots of chrome and shiny things as far as the eye could see. Stiles was in heaven. Peter most certainly was not. There was simply no way that he'd ever be able to get Stiles out of there without the boy trying to pinch a thing or two. The boy's penchant for anything glittery or shiny was as ardent as it was unexplainable and Peter had since he started to babysit Stiles quickly become something of an expert in the art of avoiding these objects, or at least return them to their rightful owner before they even noticed that something was amiss. He could still remember some of the more serious near-misses with a shudder though.
So far he'd had to wrench two table spoons from the protesting boy's very uncooperative hands and as a preventive measure he hid the Elvis shaped bottle opener behind the counter. After he'd successfully managed to convince Stiles not to dismantle the jukebox there and then their sundaes finally arrived and Peter was given a brief respite as Stiles was too busy eating to be able to plan any more thefts, coups or heists. His luck lasted for as long as the sundae did and a little bit more, and they were two whole blocks away from the diner when an angry shout was heard and he winced when he recognized the voice. It was Miss Izzie herself.
"Hey! Get back here!" Peter reluctantly stopped and turned around, putting a hand on Stiles' shoulder to make the boy do the same. "Thief! Thief! That boy is a thief!"
"Do you have anything on you that I should know about?" Peter whispered quietly out of the corner of his mouth as Miss Izzie quickly approached, glaring dangerously at the both of them as her ample bosom heaved from exertion. And of course Stiles, who'd normally only shut up when he was asleep, would chose that exact moment to suddenly become mute.
"Stiles?" Peter asked again, giving the boy a gentle shake but Stiles only shook his head.
"I should call the police!" Miss Izzie screeched, jabbing an accusing finger at the boy's face and as Stiles visibly flinched Peter quickly pulled him back a little, shielding him from the angry woman.
"What seems to be the matter?" he asked, trying to be as polite as possible.
"That boy," she spat out the word as if it tasted foul, "that boy has my property on him. Pinched! Stolen! Contraband!" Peter only raised an eyebrow at the shrill outburst.
"And what makes you think that?"
"The waitress saw him take it!" Miss Izzie insisted, moving forward with her hands outstretched as if to physically search through Stiles' clothes herself. Peter stopped her with a well-aimed icy glare and turned his back on her angry huffing when he crouched down to talk to Stiles.
"Is there anything that might have fallen into your pockets while we were at the diner?" he asked, trying to stay calm. He suddenly had a nagging suspicion that he'd rather not have confirmed to be true. Another headshake was the only the response to his question. "So if I reach into your coat pocket," Peter continued, "then I won't find anything? Nothing at all?" Stiles continued to shake his head but he couldn't quite make himself look Peter in the eyes and that was all the confirmation the older man needed. He sighed and held out one hand, while lifting Stiles' chin with the other.
"Come on, buddy, you know what you have to do" he prompted and Stiles glared back, looking equal parts mutinous and ashamed. He then sullenly fished out two ice cream scoops with handles shaped as guitars and handed them over.
"Thank you" Peter said as he stood up to address the very angry owner of the diner. "Miss, I'm so sorry." He held out the scoops and she practically snatched them from his hand, clutching them protectively to her chest. "I do apologize but I'm sure that the boy didn't mean any harm, and I'm sure that there's no need to…"
"No harm? No harm!" she yelled back, interrupting him. "These are custom made! I am going to call his father and tell him he has a thief for a son and a worthless babysitter as well!" And with that she turned on her heel and stomped away, still muttering under her breath. Peter sighed and turned back towards Stiles who'd remained frozen where he stood.
"Stiles?" You okay buddy?" Peter asked as he noticed that the boy's cheeks were wet with tears.
"I know I can't just take them" Stiles whispered sobbing. "I know that. And I didn't mean to take them! But they're just so shiny and I need them." His words gave Peter a sinking feeling in his stomach. He nodded towards the car park.
"Let's get you home, buddy, and then I'll talk to your dad, okay?" Once Stiles' seat belt was safely buckled Peter took a quick moment to send a text to Talia before he got in the driver's seat. His alpha needed to be informed that he was fairly certain that Sheriff Stilinski's young son was in fact a dragon.