Author's Note: Hello, all! This is my first posted story! I hope you all like it. My brain seems to, as I can't stop thinking about it!

Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf. Duh.

Reviews/Flames: Give me all you've got! I'm a big girl, I can take it. ;)


Daydreams & Nightmares

Chapter 1

She supposed it served her right for not listening to her mother and forgoing the jacket during her morning run. In her defense, when she'd checked the weather this morning, it didn't say anything about rain. Still, her mother was always right about these things. It was a mom thing, she thought.

Retrospect didn't help her now; already soaked through and only half way through her run. Her tank top and running shorts provided little protection, and her sneakers squelched with every step she made. The fact that she'd forgotten her phone was both a blessing and a curse. She couldn't call her mom to pick her up, but then again her phone would still work when she got home. Just as she was resigning herself to running home through the pouring rain, a baby blue Jeep slowed then stopped next to her. The window rolled down, and the head of a boy with floppy brown hair and ridiculously adorable brown eyes was exposed.

"Hey! Are you alright?"

She hesitated. Stranger danger, and all that. Still, she recognized the boy from the vet. Someone who helped animals couldn't be all that bad, right?

"Well, I could be better," she said with a dry smile. "Scott, right? This storm came out of nowhere, didn't it?" The boy smiled back and gave a nod.

"I know, it totally ruined our practice for lacrosse."

She looked past him to see who was driving. It was another boy her age, brunette with brown eyes as well, though considerably paler than Scott. He gave her a little wave and nod of his head. She waved back and stepped a little closer to the jeep.

"Sorry about your practice. My morning run just got significantly more wet than it usually is. If I wanted to swim, I would have just jumped in the pool." Scott gave a little laugh, then glanced back at his friend. Said friend leaned forward and gestured to the door.

"We could give you a ride, if you like."

Again, she hesitated. She didn't have much experience in terms of social norms, but the TV and her mother had taught her well that you don't just get in the car with a couple of strangers.

"I'm not sure," she replied, biting her lip. "No offense, but I kinda don't know you."

"Fair enough," the driver boy said, "but you're gonna catch a cold or something if you stay out in this." He made a good point, but she was cautious by nature. At seeing her hesitance, Scott opened his door and stepped out.

"Look, we promise we're not a couple of creeps. We just want to help. Plus, he's the sheriff's kid," Scott jerked his thumb back at his friend, "if we tried anything we'd never get away with it." She peered back into the Jeep.

"You're Sheriff Stilinski's kid?" she asked. As she looked at him closely, she could indeed she the resemblance. The boy gave a grin and another nod.

"That's me! So get in here before you freeze to death," he ordered. She narrowed her eyes at him, annoyed with his tone. If she was honest with herself, though, she was freezing, and a ride home sounded so good. She looked back to Scott with a questioning gaze, to which he smiled in return.

"He's really stubborn, so it's better just to humor him."

She gave a little 'humph,' but climbed into the Jeep anyway. Inside there wasn't much room, but she managed to squeeze herself through the front seats and into the back. She had to shove aside two bags of lacrosse gear, but she fit well enough. Scott climbed back into his seat and shook his head like a dog. His friend made a sound of annoyance as his clothes received an impromptu dampening, then put the Jeep into gear and they were off. He glanced at her in the rear view mirror.

"I'm Stiles, by the way," he introduced himself.

"Stiles Stilinski?" she asked with a raised brow. His shoulders seem to stiffen a little, as if by reflex. He must get that a lot.

"Yeah, so?" he asked defensively. She just smiled at him, rubbing her arms with her hands to gain some warmth.

"I like it, is all," she replied. She really did, too. It was a really interesting name, even if it did sound a little made up. Her name wasn't any better though, so she had no room to judge. Her response seem to surprise him, but the tension left his shoulders. He kept glancing back at her, as though expecting her to say 'just kidding!' and make fun of him. She just kept smiling at him. Scott gave a little cough, probably trying to hide a laugh, and turned in his seat to look at her.

"You're Delia, right? The one with the kitten named Toby?" he asked, though she had a feeling that was more for Stiles' benefit than for hers. She nodded anyway, pleased he remembered her.

"Mr. Toby, actually, but yeah, that's me. Delia Collins, at your service." She held out her still wet hand to give him a handshake, which he returned with a laugh. She found she really liked his laugh. It was so adorably boyish and charming, like Scott himself.

"Scott McCall, at yours," he replied, smiling goofily. "So, where are we taking you?" Stiles made a little gesture with his right hand, as if to say 'good question.'

"Home would be nice. Warm clothes would feel so nice right now. It's on Cherry Street, close to the school," she directed them. Stiles gave another little nod ,(she was starting to think they probably looked like bobble-heads with all the nodding) and took the next left confidently. He glanced back at her again, before asking the question she knew was coming.

"So, how come we've never met? Obviously you know Scott, but do we go to school together or something? I think I'd remember meeting you before." She decided to be flattered by that, and answered with a well practice confidence.

"I met Scott at the vet, so that's how we know each other. I'm home schooled though, so I guess that's why. I have met your dad a few times, though. He's pretty cool." Stiles sat a little straighter, he chest puffing out a bit.

"Yeah, he is," he stated proudly. "How did you meet him? Do you have a juvenile record, or something?" He was definitely more intrigued than judgmental, which she found amusing and odd.

"Nothing like that. We've had a few break ins, and your dad always came by afterwords to make sure we were okay," she told him. He seemed surprised, actually turning his head to look at her for second before paying attention on the road.

"Were you okay? Like, the didn't break in while you were there, did they?" She found it rather odd he sounded so concerned, but felt touched anyway. He must take after his dad, she tough. She smiled at him kindly.

"Only once, but they were out before we even realized there was a break in. Just a couple of punks playing pranks. We were fine," she assured him. "Your dad was really cool about it. He even helped clean up the glass from a broken window once."

Again, Stiles looked proud. She didn't blame him. If her dad was as cool as his, she'd be proud too. Just then, the turned onto Cherry, and Stiles slowed down.

"Which one is yours?" he asked, his head looking around at the multiple two-story houses lining the street. The street itself was rather nice, with well cared for lawns and a spattering of white picket fences.

"It's just a little further down, around the bend," she pointed out. Yet another nod, and they kept going. As they rounded the bend, Stiles gave a little laugh and punched Scott lightly in the arm.

"Hey look, man. It's that creepy psychic's house," he pointed through the windshield. Scott turned in his seat a little to get a better look at the 'creepy' house, a grin on his face. Delia's good mood fizzled out. Nice as they were, they had turned out to be just like everybody else.

"I heard she never leaves the house anymore. Doesn't even come out to do groceries or anything. She just sits in there, being all creepy and weird." Scott laughed, before glancing back at her through the rear view mirror. "So where's your house?" She gazed back at him, then pointed back at the so called 'creepy' house.

"That would be my house, thanks," she said icily, "and that creepy psychic is my aunt." She watched with satisfaction as both boys immediately turned remorseful and mortified. If they were going to be jerks, she wasn't going to feel bad for them. Stiles pulled to a stop next to her driveway silently, as though afraid to say anything else. Scott paused, then turned to her.

"We're sorry, we didn't know," he said pleadingly. "We're really sorry, Delia." She tried, oh man she tried, to keep the scowl on her face, but she found that even though she was still offended, Scott's brown eyes were filled with genuine repentance. She just couldn't hold onto her anger towards him. She sighed, than gestured at him to move so she could get out.

"It's okay, just let me out," she muttered, disappointed both at herself and the boys. She had hoped she had made two new friends, but apparently it wasn't meant to be. Scott scurried to do as she asked, as though trying to make it up to her with speediness. She crawled out awkwardly, aware that Stiles was watching her with an embarrassed blush on his face. Once her feet hit the pavement, she turned to give them a glum smile.

"Thanks for the ride," she said. "I appreciate it." She turned to walk to her door, but Scott caught her arm.

"We really are sorry," he insisted. "I swear."

"Yeah, we really are!" Stiles piped in. "Tell us how to make it up to you." She looked at them doubtfully, ignoring the rain that once again fell on her head.

"I'm not sure..." she trailed off, "Wouldn't want you guys to catch any creepiness from me or anything." Okay, so that was a little mean. Both boys winced, making her feel guilty. Stiles leaned forward, a determined look on his face.

"Look, dude. We feel bad about it, so let us take you out to hang or something. We could go grab some burgers or something. Please?" he asked, one hand on the steering wheel and the other waving around to emphasize his words. She cocked her hip and crossed her arms thoughtfully. She left them in suspense for a few moments, before reluctantly nodding.

"Fine, you guys can pick me up tomorrow for lunch." She received smiles from them both, and Scott climbed back into the Jeep.

"Thanks, man! We'll pick you up tomorrow at 11:00, okay?" She agreed, but put her hand on his open window before they pulled out. They looked at her inquiringly.

"You guys are buying," she said with a mischievous grin. "It's only fair."

They laughed and assured her that they'd pick up her tab, then off they went. She watched them drive away for a moment, before hurrying to her front door. She was absolutely soaked through, and craving a hot cup of tea like nobody's business. The front door was unlocked, as usual, so she let herself into the small mud room. Kicking off her soggy shoes, she called out to the house's occupants.

"Mom! Auntie Alice! I'm back!" She could hear her mom moving around in the study, and her aunt popped her head through the kitchen doorway.

"Welcome back, dear," Alice said with a smile. "Did you have a nice run?" She didn't seem to notice Delia's current damp state. She just smiled back and peeled off her wet socks.

"It was alright. I made some new friends." Alice cooed happily, then turned back to what she was currently occupied with. Apparently, they needed about 50 carrots chopped. Delia moved into the kitchen and peered over her shoulder.

"Whatcha doin', Auntie? Are we expecting an army of rabbits for dinner?" Her aunt swatted her playfully on the arm.

"No, silly. I'm making batches of beef stew for the soup kitchen. Those poor dears need something a bit heartier than old Tilly's watery chicken noodle soup." Delia could only agree. Tilly, or Mrs. Hampton, the local day care lady, did make a terrible chicken noodle soup. Still, she was kind enough to volunteer at the local soup kitchen with her aunt, so she wasn't all bad. Delia left her aunt to it and moved through the kitchen and into the main hall of the house. From there she could see into the study doorway, where her mother was cheerfully putting some books back on the shelves, headphones firmly on.

She rapped loudly on the door frame to get her attention, then gave her a wave. Her mom, now grinning at her but still listening to her music, waved back and pointed at her wet clothes. She gave a little gesture that said 'tell you later, when I'm dry again' and went on her way. She took the stairs to the second story, stopped by her room to grab some clean clothes, then headed for the bathroom.

After her nice long shower, that she enjoyed thoroughly, she pulled on her warm lounge pants and sweater, then plodded back down the stairs with a towel wrapped securely around her wet hair. She checked in on her aunt, who was now chopping up an obscene amount of mushrooms, then made her way back to the study. Her mom was now sitting at the desk, probably looking through her emails, sans the headphones.

Delia shuffled in and plopped down on the chaise next to the window and hugged a pillow to her chest. Her mother glanced at her then back to the computer. Delia figured she'd have to initiate the conversation, or else her mom would become too distracted to pay attention.

"So," she began, pulling at a stray thread, "I made a couple of friends today." That certainly caught her mother's attention, though she only showed it through a raised eyebrow and curious hum. Delia smiled, knowing that she was just playing with her.

"A couple of boys my age gave me a ride home after the rain started. Don't freak out!" she hurried to assure her mother, who had given up the pretense of being disinterested, and was instead opening her mouth for what was sure to be an angry tirade about stranger danger. "It was the boy from the vet, Scott. You remember him, right? And his friend was the sheriff's son! They were totally cool and nice," she promised. "They just gave me a ride, nothing sinister."

Her mother was still frowning, but at least she looked less angry. "Honey," she started, "that could have been a very bad idea." The mom voice was out in force. Delia sighed and hugged the pillow closer.

"But it wasn't, mom. You'd really like them. They were really sweet." She neglected to mention their casual ridicule of her aunt. She didn't need to know that, and they were sorry, after all. Her mom bit her lip, a trait Delia had inherited, and stared at her thoughtfully. Delia really hoped this wouldn't get her grounded.

"Well..." her mom trailed off, "I'm glad that they were good boys. But I still don't like it. And," she said loudly as Delia opened her mouth to protest, "I'm going to call the sheriff to thank him for his son's generosity." Meaning, she was going to call and make sure the sheriff knew that his son had given her daughter, a stranger, a ride. Her mom was big on child safety and whatnot. "Now, tell me what happened and maybe I won't whack you over the head."

Delia laughed, relieved. If her mom was threatening her with physical harm, then everything was right again. "Well, dunno if you noticed or not, but it kinda started pouring..."


So there you have it! The very first chapter of a hopefully exciting story. I'll update soon, promise!

~Sam