NOTES: Because, in retrospect- that must have been one weird car ride, right? At least from Derek's perspective, presuming he knew Allison's last name.


Derek isn't like them. He doesn't kill children.

But if he did—oh, if he did.

Beside him in the Camero, Allison—Allison Argent—is saying, "So how do you and Scott know each other?"

She has dimples. She's fresh-faced and innocent and even younger than he was when—

"We're practically family," he says, flashing her a smile. "We go way back."

It was so easy. Widen his eyes a little and relax his brow. Stuff his hands into his jacket pockets, keep his mouth from turning down. I'm a friend of Scott's. And she just followed him.

"Well, it's really nice of you to take me home."

"Sure thing."

There are so many things he could do to her. It would be so easy. Her thin arms and reedy body, her big liquid eyes.

"Would've blown to have to call my parents to pick me up."

He can't stop thinking about it. Break her neck, leave her body on the Argents' doormat.

"I mean, we just got here. It's way too soon to get grounded. Which I would be, if they saw the drinking."

Skirt rucked up, underwear around her knees. Blood on the inside of her thighs.

He says, "Your dad's kind of a hard-ass, huh?"

She snorts. "I'd take him over Mom any day."

Could use her as bait instead. Tear out their throats as they came for her, one by one. Make her watch.

She's tapping her fingers on her leg, staring out the window. He asks, polite, "Your family's not from around here, then?"

He could keep her in the basement, with the smell of smoke that won't air out.

"No. Well—kind of. We move around a lot? But my grandparents lived here for a while. We used to visit them and my aunt, when I was little. Is yours?" she asks. "From around here, I mean?"

No one would look for her there.

"We've been here for generations."

He could take his time.

"That's really cool," she says, tucking her hair behind her ear, smiling again.

Make her cry.

She talks about her last school, their last town. She doesn't say anything about werewolves, or guns. Nothing to suggest she knows. Nothing to suggest she's anything but another teenage girl.

He wouldn't have to kill her. Wouldn't have to kill anybody.

She likes Scott, but it's new. And Derek's older. Has experience. It wouldn't be hard to lure her away.

She's telling a story about getting rid of a spider in her math class—about releasing it out the window. He's nodding along.

Derek knows what he looks like. And when it comes to the seduction of innocents, well—he had a real good teacher.

"I'm such a wuss, sometimes," she laughs. She's shaking her head.

He could make her fall in love. And then. He could give her the bite.

In the quiet of the car, he can hear her heartbeat. He pulls up in front of her house.

She smells like Kate.

"Thanks again, Derek," she says, before she shuts the door. "See you around, okay?"

He just smiles.