A/N: Prompt by Mason's Brettsticks on Tumblr.


A/N: "Brason" Camping A/U.


A/N: Strong Language.


"Are you kidding me McCall! No!"

"We could really do with your help" Scott asks,

"No. I've got better things to do than sleep on Straw at an abandoned farm" Brett snorts.

"It's only gonna be for a few hours"

"No! Where's Liam? He's the only Were dumb enough to actually go with you" Brett teases.


He watches Scott shuffle his feet. Sigh and look out of Brett's mansion window. It's times like this Brett wishes that Scott's pack was going strong. Only so that he could stop bothering him over disappearances or the latest Wendigo scandal. Other than that, he's kind of pleased that Scott's desperate. It makes Satomi and therefore himself look more powerful in the Were districts.

"Liam's having fun with Hayden" Scott admits.

"I bet he is! Happy meals and dunkin' donuts for Two right?" Brett laughs. You're Camping out with sheep and stinking calves over a myths that's not even true"


"It could be. Ghosts, spirits, demons have been seen. You were born a Beta, it would be easier if we..."

"It would be easier if you left my room. I've got a date with Vogue Models Rachel Stanton and Valentina Tate in Two Hours. If you want to do something useful, iron this" Brett said throwing a dark violet silk shirt at him.

"I thought you actually cared about protecting your pack? I thought you gave a shit about defending Beacon Hills? This could affect..."


"McCall...Don't pull that protection shit on me. When the time comes. I'll be ready. Unlike you I've got a life. I'm sure as hell not gonna spend my night, knee deep in Horse piss, Chicken feathers and Three day old Cow shit. Rachel's booked me a Five star room. Hey, can you put the Iron on dial Nine? It's sensitive" Brett smirked sitting on his bed while Scott plugged in the Iron.


"Hey Guys! I've got all the Ghost's whereabouts. I'm sure this is directly related to John young's untimely death in Fifteen Twenty Four. I've talked to your Sister Brett, she wants updates too! Are you both ready?" Mason asks.

He's dressed in baggy jogging bottoms and a thick polo neck that is tickling his chin. He's got a huge rucksack on his back and a old fashioned compass clipped to his hip. His excitement infected Brett, it sped his heart rate and made his throat dry...well that and the jogging bottoms. Mason did look great in Grey.

"Brett's not coming" Scott announces.


It's the truth, but Brett stares at him in annoyance anyway.

"Oh he's...he's not? He's gonna come in handy...we need his..." Mason trails off.

"He's got a date, Two actually" Scott shrugs.


"Did I?...Mase, I never said a date or dates, it was a hang. Just a catch up with Girls I see everyday" Brett nods.

"Vogue models apparently" Scott digs. "He can't waste his time stepping in chicken piss. He got a hot harem to attend to"

Mason nods. "Great. Have fun! Come on Scott, now there's only Two of us, we can share the blue tent, it's huge" Mason said patting his rucksack.


"Share? I never I had Models or anything. I never said Farms were lame! Like I just told Scott. I'm a thousand percent ready to protect Beacon hills from whatever. Scott never officially even asked me to go with you guys. He just skirted around the issue. He didn't ask me shit. How long did it take you ask Kira out Scott? A hundred years?" Brett asked.

"So...Scott..did you ask?" Mason asks.

"I Must have gotten side-tracked...by...Ironing" Scott said picking up the Iron and walking towards the Ironing board.


"We don't want to bother you if your busy Brett. I'll text you about our adventures Tomorrow. But...I'll ask you anyway... Would you like to come ghost hunting at the farm?" Mason asked.

He was waiting with baited breath. With those hip hugging jogging bottoms. That cute poloneck that made Brett see how slim he was, and those pleading enchanting dusky eyes. His phone started to ring, he smiled as he saw Rachel's call.

"Of course I'll go ghost hunting with you. You need to be with someone that was born a Were tonight. My senses are far more powerful than McCall's...trust me" Brett told him.


"Intense!" Mason grins and Brett's pretty sure that he can feel his own insides turn into soup.