"Alright. Me and Scott will check out the warehouse and see what's going on. Stiles you stay here." Derek said as they all stood around in his loft. There were some vampires in town. Apparently they really did exist except there was no rivalry between them and werewolves much to Stiles' disappointment. Even though they really posed no threat to the pack and have yet to cause yet another mass murder spree in Beacon Hills, Derek and Scott thought it would be wise to check out things anyways.

Usually Stiles would try to argue. It wasn't like he could handle himself. He had saved Derek's ass more times than he could count on his fingers, same with Scott. Besides, He wanted to see the vampires. Would they be the Buffy variety? Or Twilight? Or Dracula? There were a lot of options.

Although he has the urge to go out and do something like find a bunch a potential life-threatening individuals Stiles thought that maybe it was for the best he didn't go. He had a big Econ test coming up in a few days and he was feeling a little under the weather anyways. No, he would save his protests for another day. Maybe when faeries attacked or something equally cool showed up.

"I got homework to do anyways. You guys go gallivant off and find Edward." Stiles said with a small wave as if he was telling them to shoo. Derek nodded and started heading out, followed by Scott.

As Stiles watched them go he sighed. He may have had homework to do that he really should be doing, but he had a more pressing matter now. Microeconomics.

He grabbed his book bag and walked over to couch. He searched through the bag for a moment, finding his pen, textbook, and notebook, everything he needed. That was when he heard footsteps coming down from the spiral staircase in the corner of the room, Stiles groaned internally.

"Did the others leave already?" None other than Peter Hale asked. Stiles should have guessed the man was there. Although he told Stiles once that he had an apartment downtown he was almost always at his nephew's loft.

"Yeah, but feel free to join them. Maybe they could use you as bait."

There was a chuckle and the footsteps were getting closer. "They want me there as much as they want you there."

Stiles knew he should just ignore the man. He didn't look up at the older man, Stiles just kept looking at the textbook in front of him. There was no reason to hold a conversation with the ex-serial killing alpha and yet he still responded. "Face it, buddy. Neither of us are that much of use when it comes to fighting."

"One of us are."

He still didn't look up. "Coming back from the dead left you weakened, remember? Or did it affect your memory too?"

"For once I was not talking about myself."

"Then what were you talk—oh. Oh. Oh." Stiles said and this time he looked up Peter. The older man managed to look both annoyed and amused at the same time.

Peter rolled his eyes "Glad to see you have such a strong vocabulary."

Stiles ignored his comment and went on to say, "But I'm not that great in a fight. I mean, I can handle my own, but supernatural powers don't really compare to my baseball bat."

Peter sat down in the chair across from him. "Maybe I should have elaborated a little more. You have the potential of being someone who could do very well in a fight."

"And where are you getting this information, oh all-knowing werewolf?"

The werewolf gave a small shrug and smiled. "I've been watching you."

At this Stiles laughed even though there was a small part of him that was uneasy by those words. If anyone else had said it he would have been more comfortable about it, maybe. This was Peter Hale though, former (more likely still) crazy murderer who kidnapped him one time and has been nothing but a burden to him and his friends. "Can you get any creepier?"

"I could if you want me to." Peter winked as he smiled at the teen unnerving Stiles even more. What had he done to make the universe hate him so much? He didn't have time to contemplate this because Peter started to talk again. "You've been feeling unsettled. It's not the flu or a cold. It's the Spark igniting. I've felt an energy shift for quite some time now, at first I thought it was just because I came back from the dead, but then I started noticing things. Like how a single light will flicker sometimes when you enter or leave a room, or how small objects will move ever so slightly. Not many people would pay attention to such things, lucky for you I have a lot of time on my hands."

Stiles was surprised. Not by the extent of Peter's stalking, because he just found that creepy, but by what Peter was implying. Ever since this whole supernatural mess started he had a slight desire to be something cool too. Lydia was a banshee, Kira was a kitsune, Allison was a hunter, and there were plenty of werewolves, Stiles was just human. Which, okay, none of this meant that Stiles was unhappy being the only human in the pack, but sometimes he wished for more.

"So you are saying I have magic?"

"There's only one way to find out." Peter said with a danger glint in his eyes. Next thing he knew the older man threw something at him with incredibly strength. Stiles threw up his hands and shut his eyes instinctively. He waited for something to hit him, for pain, for anything. Instead he felt a small surge of power much to his own surprise.

When he opened his eyes he saw something that took him a while to believe. There was a knife just floating in the air. The spark of power and control he felt was gone and the knife dropped to the floor. Stiles put his hands down and faced a smug Peter.

"You threw a knife at me?" He said. His voice full of disbelief and annoyance as he stared at the object on the ground.

"What was the worst that could happen?" Peter asked with a smirk. Stiles had an inkling that the werewolf was getting way too much enjoyment out of this.

"You are so not allowed to teach me anything else. I am going to Deaton's from now on." Stiles said, but a small smile was tugging at his lips.

"Pity. I have several books that you probably be interested in back at my apartment."

"Is that an invitation to go to your wolf den? You throw a knife at me to satisfy your curiosity about whether or not I am actually magic and you expect me to go back with you to your place?" Stiles said wanting to give the older werewolf a hard time. He had already weighed the options in his mind. Do Microeconomics or find out more about his potential magic abilities. The second option was so much more appealing.

"I was ninety-percent sure you would be able to defend yourself." Peter then stood up. "My villainess lair is much more comfortable than this place. Plus, I have better food."

Stiles found himself standing up too. "Fine. I hope your place meets my high expectations." He packed his things away in his bag and then followed the werewolf. Before they reached the door of the loft Stiles' hand cracked across the back of Peter's head. The older man whipped his head around at him and looked more surprised than Stiles had ever seen him.

"What was that for?"

"The other ten percent."