Okay, so I 'accidentally' read some spoilers for Season Three and seriously needed to write something funny to make up for that, but instead I wrote this. I feel as if I failed somehow.
Anyway, thanks for reading, I do not own what is not mine, and leave a comment if you can.
See ya!
"Everyone this is Cara. She claims Tony is the father of her son," Maury said slowly, turning to a twenty-something girl sitting next to him, who was glaring at the screen showing a young guy's face, shaking his head. "Tony claims that Cara has slept with everyone, including his brother, and says he can't possibly be the father of her son Tanner."
"He doesn't know what he's talking about, Maury," Cara stated glaring at Tony again who continued to shake his head. A picture of her son flashed onto the screen. He looked about three, with dark hair and eyes, and, in Stiles' opinion, looked nothing like Tony.
"He's not mine," Tony yelled at the screen.
"Let's bring out Tony," Maury announced and the audience exploded as Tony walked out, shaking his head, yelling obscenities at Cara. She stood up and started screaming back at him, and Stiles snorted.
As Maury tried to calm the audience down, a sudden shadow fell over Stiles, his father blocking the television.
"Hey, dad, you make a better door than a window," Stiles complained trying to look around his father.
The older man didn't move, instead he crossed his arms, raised an eyebrow, and said, "You've been sitting on the couch for the past three days. I think you need to go outside."
"Geez, Dad, I'm not four," Stiles whined still trying to look around his father. He was missing something, he could hear the yelling. "Besides, I'll go out right after Maury."
"Stiles," his father said evenly.
"Dad," Stiles retorted using the same, even tone, meeting his father's blue-green eyes.
They stubbornly stared at each other for a while, but finally the older man broke with a heavy sigh, throwing his hands in the air. "When your body fuses with the couch, don't come crying to me," he muttered walking out of the room.
"I won't," Stiles called back, letting his eyes settle on the television again, just as Maury said, "Tony, you are NOT the father."
"Ha ha," Stiles muttered smirking, "I knew it."
He sat through another twenty-five minutes of Maury before switching the channel over to General Hospital. He didn't particularly like the show, but he still wasn't ready to go outside. He fell to his side, pulling his feet onto the couch, and lounged there as he watched the show. He had no idea who was saying what to whom, but it was like a train wreck; he just couldn't look away.
"Alright, that's it," his father suddenly exclaimed, appearing over the couch again. He grabbed the remote off the coffee table, flipped the TV off.
"Dad!" Stiles protested sitting up, fixing his dad with his best 'Derek' glare. His father merely rolled his eyes, gave Stiles a tired look, and said, "Go outside."
"And do what?" the talkative teen asked, his entire body going limp in protest. He didn't want to leave the couch, the couch was his best friend, the television was like his brother, he couldn't just abandon them.
"As long as you're not breaking the law, I don't care," the older man replied, grabbing his son's arm and hauling him off the couch. "Just go out, do something, find Scott. I don't care."
With an exaggerated sigh, Stiles shoved his feet back into his shoes and headed towards the door, dawdling for as long as he possibly could, up until his father threatened to take his video game privileges away.
"You know dad," he started opening the door, "you're getting more demanding in your old age." He then walked outside, closed the door, and froze on the stoop. What in the hell was he going to do?
He could always go find Scott, but one quick look at his watch told him Scott was working. Lydia was out of town, visiting her grandparents, and wouldn't be back until next Friday and she was still reeling from Jackson's departure. Danny didn't like him very much. In fact, he seemed to not like many people lately, and Stiles had a feeling it was because Jackson had skipped town. He went on some 'soul searching' trip or something, much to Derek's dismay, and had mostly kept in touch via text messages and emails.
He could always track down Boyd or Erica, but since the Alphas they hadn't been quite the same. Boyd was more withdrawn, more Beta Derek-esque, and Erica was more rambunctious than ever, almost as if she were deliberately trying to hide her pain behind her wild 'she wolfness'. Stiles wanted to help them, really he did, but he also wanted to live, and he had a feeling they'd threaten his life if he tried talking to them. There was also Isaac, but he was probably helping Scott out at the vet's office and wouldn't be available to hang out. Plus, Stiles had a feeling, just like with Danny, that Isaac didn't like him very much. Well, he didn't want to hang out with him anyway.
He guessed he could always bug Peter, but he still didn't trust the older wolf, no matter how many times he assured them all that he was a 'good guy' and 'on their side.' He still murdered a crap load of people, he still bit Scott, he still tried to kill Derek and Scott, he had still threatened Scott's mom, and he had done a lot more effed up crap. Stiles would never, ever willingly hang out with him and that was final.
That just left Derek. Stiles wondered where the older wolf was, and he figured he could always just track down each of his Betas. He'd eventually find Derek lurking around, creeping around with his super stalking abilities. Stiles wondered if it was just the werewolf in him or if it was a skill he learned on his own. In Stiles' opinion, it was a crappy skill to learn.
Besides, he doubted Derek really wanted to see him. The older wolf tended to get more moody when he was around, and Stiles just wasn't in the mood to sit through some of his bipolar-esque mood swings.
With a sigh, he jumped off his stoop, walked around the house six times, and finally headed back inside. His dad gave him a questioning look when he closed the door, and he shrugged and said, "I went outside."
With a sigh, his father shook his head, but still moved over so Stiles could sit next to him on the couch. As they watched television, the talkative teen rested his head on his father's shoulder and murmured, "Besides, I'd rather spend time with my favorite dad."
"I'm your only dad," his father responded, smiling.
"Semantics," Stiles replied shrugging and his father snorted.
"Love you, too, kid."