This little thing has been rattling around in my head for a while, only n ow did I sit down and write it.
Disclaimer: I don't own teen wolf, no matter how many times I ask santa for it
It was Stiles' eighteenth birthday, and she was happy. No-one had been killed for a while, Lydia and the drag queens were throwing her a huge party,and all her friends were going to be there, including Derek, who she could actually count as a friend now that Cora was back and making him behave like a normal human being.
Wolf.
Whatever.
She glanced at her clock. Crap. She was late.
Grabbing a hair band from her desk, she ran downstairs, tying her hair up in a haphazard ponytail as she went.
"Gotta go, Dad!" She yelled, swiping her car keys from the table and making sure she had her cell phone.
"Bye, sweeting. Have fun with Lydia. Don't let her bully you into buying too many clothes." He swanned out from the kitchen and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. "Happy birthday baby."
She gazed up at her father with a fond smile, and kissed him on the cheek.
"Thanks, daddy." His breath caught, and she knew why. It was very rare she called him daddy, and the last time she had done so was when she had told him about the werewolves, and other supernatural creatures lurking around Beacon Hills trying to kill the pack.
Shaking her morose thoughts away, she scrambled into her car, and started the engine, driving like a maniac to Lydia's house.
"You're late, Stiles." Lydia told her, frowning at her and gracefully swinging up into the jeep. Everything Lydia did was graceful.
Stiles gave her puppy dog eyes.
"I was eating breakfast with my dad." Lydia made a face, but uncharacteristically dropped it, instead placing a small, perfectly wrapped box on her lap.
"Lyds?" Stiles picked up the box, shook it gently.
"Happy birthday, Stiles." Lydia gave her a smile, and kissed her on the cheek. Stiles internally squealed, courtesy of her huge girl crush on the other woman, but hid it, instead tearing the present open carefully and taking out the small, black box inside. It was obviously a jewellery box. She searched for a seam, and dug her fingernails in, prying it open.
Then she stopped.
"Stiles?" Lydia's bell like voice sounded muffled.
"How?" She breathed.
Inside the box sat her mother's engagement ring, which Stiles hadn't seen since she had died.
It was a small fire opal, with garnets and diamonds glistening in the lattice setting, made of gold, and inscribed with both her parents' names.
"Your dad. I wanted to give you something special, so I asked him if there was something, anything, you had always wanted. And he gave me this. So I guess this is really from both of us." Lydia put a hand on Stiles' shoulder and squeezed.
"You know, this is the first time I've ever heard you babble." Stiles chuckled weakly. She plucked the ring from its box with shaking hands, and then slipped it onto her ring finger on her right hand. A tear slid down her face.
Impulsively, she wrapped the other girl in a hug, rambling about how awesome she was.
"I didn't expect so much emotion so early in the day." Lydia whispered. They drew apart, still half crying. Lydia sniffed, wiped away her tears, minding her make up. Stiles scrubbed a hand across her face, breathing deeply.
"Are you okay to drive?" Lydia asked. Stiles nodded, and put the Jeep into gear, pulling out onto the road and driving the mall Lydia was forcing her to go to.
They filled the ride with chattering about the party, and Disney songs.
Shut up.
The second she parked, Lydia dragged her into the first store she could.
Typical, she thought, as she was shoved into the dressing rooms with a pile of clothing.
She flipped through the pile, picking out clothes she would actually wear, then tried those on.
The same with the next shop. And the next.
And the next.
It was the same with every shop Lydia dragged her into. And although Lydia paid, insisting it was all part of her gift, she hadn't really seen anything that jumped out at her.
So when she slid to a stop in the middle of the mall, Lydia was understandably confused.
"Stiles?" Lydia followed her gaze to the shop window, then raised an eyebrow.
"Lyds, it's perfect." She told her, eyes shining.
Lydia sighed, and ushered her into the shop.
"Could we look at the jacket in the window please? In a..." She eyed Stiles like a cheetah watching its prey. "In an eight." She decided.
The shop assistant she had snagged disappeared into the back, finally returning with the jacket. Stiles regarded the buttery soft leather with a stare that resembled the way she would sometimes look at Derek when she thought no one was looking. She rubbed a thumb over the cuff.
"Yep, this is so mine." She mumbled. Lydia unzipped it, slid it from the hanger and onto Stiles quicker than you could blink.
"Yes." The sales assistant immediately rang it up, and Lydia whipped out her credit card.
"Would you like it wrapped or would you like to wear it out?" The woman asked.
"She'll have it wrapped." Stiles snapped her head up and gave her friend a pleading look.
Lydia just narrowed her eyes.
"Fine." She took the jacket off, and the assistant set about wrapping it.
They left, thanking her, and Stiles swung the bag happily.
Until it was Lydia's turn to stop. She was staring at a dress.
Stiles did not do dresses.
"No, Lydia. No, I know that look." Lydia latched onto her wrist and before she knew it she was in a changing room in a dress she couldn't pull off in a million years.
"Stiles, get your cute little butt out here!" Lydia told her.
"No." A second later she poked her head past the curtain. "You think my butt is cute?"
Lydia pulled her out and she shrieked.
"Holy crap."
"I know, it's awful, I look terrible, not me at all, just let me take it off and we'll go." She rambled.
"You look sexy." Lydia said.
"I know, it's so bad, I...what?" Stiles froze, in her comfortable boots, and short dress.
"I understand why Derek looks at you like that now."
"Lydia!" Stiles whined. "Wait, Derek looks at me how?"
She just muscled her back into her normal clothes, and they went to the café down the road, with an extra bag, for lunch.
Then they chattered inanely about nothing until it was time to get back to Lydia's. Lydia immediately forced her into the shower. The second she stepped out, her red head friend sat her down in the chair in front of her desk, and set to work with a hair dryer, and then some curlers. Then she applied what felt like half a ton of make up.
And the worst thing was Lydia had covered the mirror, so she couldn't even see how she looked.
So she listened to the classical music her clever friend had put on, and the sounds of people setting up downstairs, and luxuriated in the feel of hands on her face and in her hair. When they stopped, she opened her eyes slowly.
"Come and get dressed." Lydia directed her to the bathroom with a set of scarlet lingerie which she blushed profusely at, and her dress. She dressed as fast as she could, refusing to look at the underwear, and scowled at the mirror which was also covered, knowing Lydia would have her guts for garters if she peeked, and then was busy being grateful Lydia hadn't forced her into a garter.
Barefoot, she padded out into the bedroom, only to squeak with shock, and launch herself at the drag queen, standing with her hip cocked.
"Sugar, where the hell have you been?" The queen drawled in her ear.
"Careful." Lydia snapped. "Mind her hair, and her face." The queen gave her one last squeeze, and released her. At her feet, there was a medium sized box, with Stiles' name, her real name, written on it in glitter glue.
"Happy birthday, sugar." With that, the queen whirled and left.
Stiles just shrugged and opened her present, well used to her eccentricity. Lydia smirked at the knee high suede boots.
"Wear those." Stiles really didn't need telling twice, they were gorgeous. Clambering to her feet, she wriggled her ankles a little, and posed dramatically for Lydia.
"Very nice, dear." Lydia passed her the leather jacket, and she pulled it on cheerfully. "Come and let me do your lipstick."
Lydia nimbly slicked her lips with, as far as she could tell, bright red lipstick, and made her pout. Satisfied, she let Stiles stand up, and smacked her on the butt.
"You're fucking sexy tonight." A shocked sounding Scott said from the doorway.
Lydia rolled her eyes. Stiles blushed deeply.
"Thanks Scotty." Her best friend had obviously snuck up to give her present early. The parcel clutched in his little wolfy paw was clearly wrapped by Melissa, and Scott dropped it on Lydia's desk as he pulled her in for a tight hug, not having to stoop as much as he usually did.
"I'm serious." He whispered. "You look absolutely beautiful." He leaned back far enough to grab the present, and handed it to her. She took it, the angle displaying her mom's ring perfectly.
Scott's eyes went wide.
"Is that..?" She nodded. "How?"
"I'll tell you later, Scotty." She ripped the wrapping paper off the present. Left holding a photo album, she frowned, but opened it anyway.
On the first page was a picture of Stiles, Scott, and both their mom's.
It was promptly snatched away as she welled up.
"If you make her cry the make up off I'll put wolfsbane in your drink tonight." Lydia snarled, but it didn't quite have the edge it usually would. Scott smiled at her, puppy dog eyes big and brown, and drew Stiles in for another hug.
"Love you Scotty." She managed to choke out.
"Love you too, shortstop." The taller boy kissed the top of her head, and left the room.
She took a deep breath, and let it out.
"You would assume he doesn't think, but every year he gets me something totally awesome, and feels inspiring." She muttered.
"Come on, sweetie, lets go downstairs." Lydia caught her under the crook of her elbow, and directed her towards the door. She descended carefully into the throng of people ogling her and wishing her many happy returns, smiling at people she didn't know, and making her way into the living room to find her friends. They were standing around the dining table, having made sure she could find them all.
So she got to see the huge double take as they clocked her.
Isaac looked like he had been hit in the face with a wolfsbane coated baseball bat, Erica dropped her glass, which Boyd caught, a slight look of surprise on his face, and Danny wolf whistled loudly. Jackson sat down heavily, and Allison smiled widely. Ethan's mouth was wide open, and Cora fanned herself, giggling the whole time. Scott gathered her up in another hug, lifting her off her feet, and swung her around a little. When he set her back down, each member of the pack scooped her up for snuggles. Erica whispered that they should go clubbing sometime, and Jackson grumbled he definitely couldn't make any slurs on her appearance any more.
"If I didn't like guys, Stilinski..." Danny laughed. She left a kiss print on his cheek for that.
When Isaac folded his tall frame down to her level to hug her, he kissed on the cheek and told her this was why she was the leader.
"But Derek's the alpha." She told him. He just shrugged, a half smile on his dimpled face. She ruffled his curls and he grinned.
"Speaking of the sourwolf, where is he?"
"He's coming along a little later." Boyd replied. Mollified, she nodded, and sipped the drink one of the drag queens had just pressed into her hand.
"Coconut." She mumbled cheerily.
Lydia changed the song to something with so much bass the crystal of the chandelier shook, and Stiles whooped, then set her drink and dragged the nearest friend to dance.
Isaac grinned as she shook her butt and looped her arms around his neck, swaying and dipping.
She was so into it, she didn't even notice Derek was there until Isaac stopped dancing.
"Sourwolf!" She exclaimed. He was wearing his trademark leather jacket, so she waved, and yelled, "We match!"
His eyes had widened an increment, but Stiles was too hyper to notice, skipping over to him and hugging him tightly.
"Hey, little red." Derek said over the music.
"Little red?" She mock scowled.
"Well, you are little, and that jacket of yours is very red." He smirked. She swatted at him, and he slung his arm over her leather clad shoulders.
"Presents!" Allison yelled.
Stiles shrieked, and dragged the older man over to the table. The pile of presents had grown since she had looked before, and was now head height.
Isaac height head height.
Oh.
She set into the pile, exclaiming over the things she got.
"Is this the new pokémon game Danny?" She gaped as he nodded. "This isn't out until next year!"
"No, it isn't, is it?" The handsome boy smirked. Stiles flung herself at him, shrieking unintelligible things in his ear. The werewolves grimaced through their huge grins as he caught her.
Once she had calmed down, Stiles carried on opening her presents, gasping at Erica's stitched picture of a wolf, and nearly crying when she found that Scott's present had been put back in the pile. When everything was sitting in a neat pile, she sipped at her drink and thanked everyone profusely.
Derek nudged her, and slipped an A4 envelope into her hand, then got up with the pretence of getting another drink. Everyone else had got up to dance, so she had complete privacy as she pried it open, and stopped breathing. Derek was immediately at her side, hand seeping warmth into her spine.
"Stiles?" She looked up at him, and wrapped her arms around his neck so tightly that he couldn't breathe properly. He returned the embrace, sliding his hands under the edge of her jacket and pulling her closer. Eventually the pack trickled back, only to find Stiles sitting on Derek's lap, one of his hands in her hair, and the other keeping her from falling to the floor.
"What did you do, Derek Hale?" Lydia hissed. Derek nodded helplessly at the envelope, and the small woman picked it up and revealed a hand drawn picture of the pack. It depicted Stiles at the head of the formation, with Derek just behind and to the left of her, and the rest of the pack spread out in front of the Hale house, grinning, and watching Stiles with pride.
"Oh." Lydia breathed, as she sat down heavily, hand on her chest.
"Told her she's the leader." Isaac said simply. At this Stiles lifted her head to reveal a broad smile, and intact make up. Then she tucked her face back into Derek's neck and wriggled impossibly closer.
She stayed like this until the guests trickled home. Then she tugged him up, put on a slow song and tucked herself back under his chin. They swayed slowly to the soft music as the pack cleaned up around them, shooting them glances every so often and smiling.
"When did you learn to draw?" She broke the comfortable silence.
"How do you know I drew it?" He asked.
"Derek, I know you, despite all your efforts to the opposite. You wouldn't have given me that picture if you hadn't drawn it. Just like Scott wouldn't have given me that picture album if he hadn't put it together himself."
"I learnt to draw as a kid. My mom taught me." Derek mumbled into her hair.
"You're good."
"Thanks."
They were silent for a while until Derek twirled a curl around finger.
"You look beautiful tonight, by the way."
"Thanks, sourwolf." Stiles mumbled. She was sagged against his chest, slurring her words into his henley. Lydia, making her way past them, snuck a finger under her chin, and smiled.
"Take her upstairs Derek, put her to bed." Then she went on into the kitchen.
Derek scooped Stiles up bridal style, and took her upstairs to the communal room they used when they were all sleeping over at Lydia's house. Four mattresses laid out with quilts, blankets and pillows.
He gently set the small girl down and propped her up while he took her jacket off, and hung it over the back of a chair, then pulled her boots off, and lay her down.
"Stiles? Do you want pyjamas?"
"Gimme your shirt." She was so quiet he barely heard. He smiled, and pulled his jacket off, hanging it over Stiles', then pulled his top off. Handing it to Stiles, he turned around while she struggled out of her tight dress, and yanked his shirt on. Turning back, he had to quell the urge to kiss her senseless.
She looked good in his clothes. He chuckled at how far past her fingertips the sleeves came. She shifted suddenly, and the glimpse of scarlet lace had him swallowing hard.
"D'rek?" Stiles mumbled sleepily. "C'mere." He crouched in front of her, and yelped quietly when she seized his wrist and pulled him down beside her. "G'sleep." She snuggled into his chest, and he wrapped an arm around her.
"Night Stiles." He whispered. He fell asleep with the slip of a girl curled around him.
When he wakes up the next morning, Jackson, of all people is pressed close to Stiles back, with Lydia pressed into him, and Allison back to back with her, Scott is coiled around his girlfriend so tightly Derek can barely tell where one begins and the other ends. Erica and Boyd are behind Derek, Cora has somehow slotted herself between them and Isaac is lying with his face buried in Stiles' stomach, one of her hands entangled in his curls, ring glinting in early morning sunlight.
Perfect.
And when he kissed Stiles into breathlessness after breakfast, it was even more perfect.
I nearly forgot the links to what Stiles would be wearing in this fic.
Dress: shop/dresses/viewitem-PD731638
Boots: itm/BLK-LACE-UP-ALMOND-TOE-SLOUCHY-CUFF-STILETTO-H EEL-PLATFORM-OVER-KNEE-THIGH-BOOTS-/111172116122
Jacket: photos/2013/05/06/joie-red-lexandra-leather-motorc ycle-jacket-in-faded-scarlet-product-4-8522933-995 180903_large_
Ring: Jewelry-Watches/Michael-Valitutti-14k-Yellow-Gold- Fire-Opal-