Hey, guys! This is me contributing to the already overwhelming amount of Stiles / OC fics out there and I can only hope that you enjoy reading it. This will be what one would call a slow burn (or UST) fic and I would like to apologize ahead of time for the frustration you may feel while reading it...FYI, all links to Polyvore will appear on my profile.

Disclaimer: I don't own 'Teen Wolf' which upsets me on a spiritual level but hey what can you do?

Chapter One - It Isn't Awful

I couldn't help my smile as I stood in front of our new house. It wasn't the biggest or even the newest house on the street but it had potential. I turned to my Mother and my Aunt and grinned. "It's not awful." My Mom shared a look with her sister but both women mirrored my grin. "You say that about everything." I frowned at them and it deepened when I remembered where I would have to be tomorrow, "Hey, are we sure that I have to start school tomorrow? Can't we just pretend I'm 18 so I don't have to go? I can make myself look older." I got two raised eyebrows and I groaned.

I grabbed my one and only suitcase from the trunk of my beat up Toyota and strolled into the house. I didn't even bother checking out the ground floor, I just made for the stairs and bounded up to the bedrooms. It was all dark wood and gloss and, despite my mood, I had to appreciate how gorgeous the house was. I sighed contentedly as I opened the door closest to the staircase and found it decorated exactly the way I had wanted. Score one for the magical Mom. It almost worried me how glad I was to be by myself as I shut the door behind me.

My suitcase was dumped on to my bed and I popped it open and pulled out far more than what the small-ish case would be expected to hold but that was far from unusual. At least for the Spectors. We could do pretty much anything, within reason and within the limits of our ability. We couldn't summon Thor or anything but hey we could 'Hermione-Granger' a bag all day long.

I scanned the room, making sure the door was firmly shut and the curtains fully closed before I got comfortable on the bed, arms and legs crossed as I leaned against the headboard, and swung my eyes toward the piles of my stuff strewn across the end of the bed and watched as they jumped to life and flew around the room, finding my dresser and my desk and my closet with ease. A self indulgent smile made it's way on to my face as I threw my arms behind my head, satisfied that I could sit back and rewatch 'The Walking Dead' on my laptop without having to worry about unpacking. I had come to the conclusion that even though our new town seemed kinda (scratch that really) boring, I could make it interesting in my own way, despite my Mom's rules. After all that's what magic was for.

My morning wasn't off to a good start. I woke up to my cat Elphaba's butt in my face and a loud shrill ringing coming from my bedside table. I groaned as I pushed the ball of black fur on to the floor and turned off my alarm with maybe a little too much aggression.

I reluctantly got up and and wandered into my closet pulling out a pair of jeans and a sweater I thought wouldn't look awful. Effort was not something I was used to. Of course my Mother and my Aunt were adamant that this would change, now that we had moved to a much more close knit community, people were sure to notice if the weird new girl started making things levitate or if she changed the colour of her t-shirt halfway through Chemistry.

When I got down to the kitchen the only other people in the house were already there making breakfast. "Morning." I grumbled as I stuffed a pancake into my mouth. Aunt Wendy smirked at me, "Someone's grumpy, what's got your broomstick in a twist?"

"Oh ha ha. See, that's funny since you said I can't do magic any more. Stellar joke." Her smirk took on a much more patronising quality, as did her tone of voice.

"Aww, sweetie, just think of it as practice. You can't be depending on the supernatural your entire life. Just do as you're told and I won't convince your mother to make you get a job." I gasped in fake indignation and bits of pancake went flying from my lips. "You wouldn't!"

My Mom spun lazily from the stove to face the two of us, flipping her red hair over her shoulder, shooting both of us an exasperated look. "Tabby, you're going to be late for school." I held my hands up in surrender, "Fine, fine but just incase I haven't made myself clear, I am completely against this 'No Magic' thing you've both got going on." They just stared, unblinking, until I caved. "I get it! I'm leaving, I'm going! God!"

When I pulled my beat up Toyota into the school parking lot, I found that Beacon Hills high school was what one would call average. It was what you would expect a high school to look like. Completely unextraordinary. And easy to navigate thanks to the map the administrative office had emailed upon our arrival. It was sickeningly helpful.

I cringed when a loud shout from a boy standing directly to my right interrupted my grumbling as I walked toward the main entrance. "Oh, god, that is freakin' awesome. I mean, this is seriously gonna be the best thing that's happened to this town since - Since the birth of Lydia Martin."

I watched as a beautiful girl with strawberry blonde hair strutted past the boy, his friend and I. And what appeared to be an entire schools worth of adoring teenagers, "Hey, Lydia - You look...like you're gonna ignore me." I snorted, gaining the boy's attention. "Brutal."

His head had snapped around and his pale skin turned red as he looked at me like I had two heads. I was almost completely sure that I only had one, unless my powers had gone haywire again. Really didn't want a repeat of the 'Almost Hydra' of '08. "What?" I asked self consciously.

He seemed to shake himself as his mop-haired friend chuckled beside him. "U-uh, h-hi." It came out as more of a question than anything and my eyes widened at how quickly it got awkward. "I'm gonna go." Poor kid looked incredibly confused when I waltzed past him, looking like a pale, much shorter version of the runway model I was following.

By the time I had found the bench marked 'X' on the map, the bell for first period had already rung and there was another girl sitting there. She was gorgeous, but from what I'd already seen of Beacon Hills that was almost a given, with long curly brown hair and a lithe frame I could make out even though she was perched on the side of the uncomfortable looking stone.

She looked startled as I sat down next to her and offered her a jerky wave and a small smile. She smiled sweetly back at me, offering me a handshake. "Hi, I'm Allison."

"Tabitha. You a newbie too?" I said, giving her hand a firm shake. She nodded shyly, "Yeah." As her phone started ringing in her purse. "Sorry, It's my Mom." I waved it off, casting my eyes around for the Vice Principal who was nowhere to be seen. Which meant we were going to be forced to barge into a class 10 minutes in, interrupt the teacher and stand in front of a bunch of kids who would silently judge us from afar. Can you say embarrassing?

"Mom, three calls on my first day is a little overdoing it... Everything except a pen. Oh, my God, I didn't actually forget a pen." I turned to her and raised my eyebrows in amusement and she looked up from her bag in a panic, glancing behind me at the Vice Principal who was walking towards us with a smile on his face. "Okay, okay. I gotta go. Love ya."

We both stood and rushed to keep up with him as he turned on his heel and strolled over the pathway and into the school, "Sorry to keep you waiting, girls. So, Allison, you were saying San Francisco isn't where you grew up?" Typical. I show up early and still miss the meet and greet with the Vice Principal. I was already behind and I'd been here all of fifteen minutes.

She shook her head as we walked, her eyes down, as she played with her jacket sleeves. "No, but we lived there for more than a year, which is unusual in my family."

"Well, hopefully Beacon Hills will be the last stop for both of you." He said, stepping into a classroom in the middle of the hall and clearing his throat as everyone's heads snapped up from their desks. "Class, these are our new students, Allison Argent and Tabitha Spector. Please do your best to make them feel welcome."

Scanning the room for free seats, Allison and I glanced at each other. There were two empty desks; one behind the moppy haired kid from earlier and another behind that, to the left of the kid who's face I'd made do an impression of a beetroot. In the back row. Behind 4 rows of students and out of the teacher's eyeline. The proverbial classroom sweet spot, if you will. Both of us rushed forward, racing to the back row and I let out a triumphant laugh as I crashed into the plastic chair, resisting the urge to fist pump. I shot Allison a smug smile as she slid into the desk in front of me and she rolled her eyes good-naturedly, turning to the front when mop-head offered her a pen.

I kicked her chair as she said thanks, raising my eyebrows suggestively. Allison shrugged, her eyebrows pinched in confusion.

The teacher cleared his throat, staring pointedly at Allison's back until she turned around. "We'll begin with Kafka's Metamorphosis, on page 133."

By the time last period let out, I was exhausted. I had spent lunch and in between classes getting to know Allison; I figured I could go home and tell my Mom and Aunt that I had made at least one friend. They would be thrilled, of course, a new friend meant I wasn't the new school freak for making someone's hair turn green.

I was at my locker, trying to shimy the damn door open when I saw Allison get accosted by the strawberry blonde from that morning and I snorted in amusement when I thought about my new, very shy, friend being forced into conversation.

I groaned in annoyance as I rattled the locker door that refused to open, narrowing my eyes at the challenge. A debate was going on inside my head. On the one hand I could snap my fingers and make the locker open and I would be breaking my Mom and my Aunt's rule about not using my God given talent or I could continue wrestling with a sheet of metal and risk looking like a lunatic on my first day. And the latter really didn't appeal to me.

So, I glanced around, making sure no one was watching me before I turned my gaze toward the locker door, banging my fist against it twice to focus the power and watching as it swung open with a smug smirk.

I stuffed my books into the small space and slammed it closed, sighing happily when I realised I could go home and binge watch 'The Big Bang Theory'. But that dream bubble burst rather swiftly when Allison latched onto my arm and dragged me along with her and the two strangers who had cornered her at her locker.

"Where are we going?" I hissed, removing my arm from her grip.

"To watch lacrosse practice. I didn't have a choice and I don't want to suffer alone."

"Ugh, why do I like you again?" I grumbled and she giggled as we walked out onto the lacrosse field, standing back as the strange dude who looked more like an Abercrombie and Fitch model left for the locker room, leaving Allison and I with the short redhead. She turned on her heel and tilted her head, her strawberry blonde hair falling over her shoulder as she analysed me, "Who are you?"

I coughed uncomfortably and stuck my hands in my jean pockets as I answered her, "Uh, Tabitha Spector. I prefer Tabby, though." She pursed her lips, head still tilted, eyes still judging. "Mhmm, I like your hair. I'm Lydia Martin."

I felt Allison physically relax from where she stood next to me, apparently Lydia praising my appearance meant she approved of me and while I felt like I had stepped into a teen movie from the 80's, it did mean that my friend count went up to two and that wasn't something for me to scoff at.

We made our way to the bleachers rather quickly, Lydia saying something or other about wanting to support Jackson, who I had gathered was the Abercrombie to her Fitch. The peanut butter to her jelly. The Han Solo to her Leia or whatever.

As we sat down I scanned the field, spotting the two guys from that morning running out with lacrosse gear on and sticks in their hands. From what Allison had told me, the mop haired dude handing her that pen in English had confused her. Mainly 'cause he had no way of knowing she needed one, which confused me too, but what she was focusing on was how cute she thought he was. While I was concerned about how the hell he knew to give her that pen because a) Can you say 'Weird'? and b) If anything freaky was going on in Beacon Hills I wanted in on it.

So, when Allison picked him out from the other lacrosse players at the same time I did I wasn't surprised, she was intrigued by his apparent cuteness. I, on the other hand, thought the way he acted was reminiscent of my old labrador Doug.

"Who is that?" She asked.

"Him? I'm not sure who he is. Why?" Lydia asked tilting her head in Allison's direction. I cleared my throat next to Lydia, "Because she thinks his puppy-esque good looks are hot." Allison's face turned red and she leaned over to swat my arm while I ducked from under her hand. "He's in our English class." She said forcefully, silently and not so subtly telling me to shut the hell up.

Lydia tutted as we watched the first player step forward from the line-up, lacrosse stick in hand, as they swung it forward and sent the ball sailing toward Allison's puppy dog's helmeted head in goal.

The resulting thwack had everyone either bending over in laughter or wincing in sympathy. Allison was the latter, Lydia was neither; pursing her lips with narrowed eyes and I was the former, chortling where I sat. Someone even shouted "Hey, way to catch with your face, McCall!" And I had a feeling I was going to love watching lacrosse practice.

My joy at seeing McCall get his head pounded by a lacrosse ball was short lived. As soon as the laughter died down, Allison's mystery guy squared his shoulders and snatched the ball from the air before it had a chance to hit the back of the net. Or his face.

I whistled where I sat and nudged Allison with my elbow, "Did you see that save? Now that I can appreciate as hot." Allison tilted her head my way and nodded, "He seems like he's pretty good." We both turned to Lydia, the only one who wasn't a lacrosse virgin, and watched as she agreed. "Oh, very good."

It seemed like everyone was impressed. Well, everyone except Jackson, who seemed just a tad murderous as he jumped the line of players waiting for a shot to score. Allison seemed to tense next to me as Jackson ran full sprint toward the goal and Lydia sat with an expectant smirk on her pretty face while she watched her boyfriend charge the poor boy in goal; she clearly expected that Jackson would destroy whatever good run Allison's puppy dog had been having and it seemed like he did too, going by the genuine surprise on his face when he realised the ball was in his net and not spinning for his face.

I watched as Lydia and the buzzcut boy from this morning jumped up and cheered for the labrador look-a-like, along with a few more, although the majority of the crowd seemed to share a similar brand of confusion as to how Puppy dog was still standing after Jackson, the captain of the team, had hurled the ball at his head.

Me and Allison though, being the inexperienced lacrosse virgins that we were, shared a look and shrugged. "That was good, right?"

"Allison, I know we just met and all, but I think I'm already getting tired of you." I sighed to the girl. I was splayed across my bed in my pajamas, head dangling over the side, with my phone resting on my stomach set to speakerphone.

She laughed from her end and I smirked, "Okay, I get that I saw you at school and everything but I just got home from the vet and you'll never guess what happened."

Colour me intrigued. "Did your cat spontaneously blow up? 'Cause I heard that can happen." Elphaba hissed from where she was sitting on top of my dresser and I scoffed, lowering my voice, "That only happened one time and I fixed your tail afterwards, you pussy."

Allison's laughter bubbled through the speakers and my attention snapped back to the call, "No! I don't even have any pets but I was driving to the store and this dog ran in front of my car while I was changing a song on my ipod and I completely freaked! I took it to the Vet in town and the boy that gave me a pen in English was there, he gave me a dry shirt and everything. It was really sweet, actually."

"Wait, you hit a poor dog and you're thinking about how cute Puppy face is?" I gasped in mock disgust, snorting as Allison defended herself, "What? No! I just- she was fine! Scott bandaged up her leg and put her with the other dogs."

Raising my eyebrows, I continued teasing the poor girl, "Oooh, It's Scott now? You are so crushing on this kid." And even from my end of the phone call I could hear her sigh, "I don't know, I mean I promised myself I'd stay away from boyfriends until college because of all of the moving around my family does... but he just seems so sweet and nice and he invited me to Lydia's party on Friday night… I said yes ."

I whooped from my position dangling from my bed, "Go Allison! And it's only Monday, damn, you move quick! " She laughed and I straightened up a bit when I heard the nervousness behind it, "I was kind of hoping you would come?"

"To the party?" I was pretty sure she could feel my horrified expression through the phone.

"Uh huh, it will be fun! And I would really appreciate knowing someone other than Scott incase anything goes wrong…"

I groaned in acceptance, "Fine, but you're not allowed to judge me if I get drunk out of boredom."

A loud cough from my doorframe had me springing up and jumping to catch my phone as it flew off of my belly, "Uh, Allison, I'll talk to you tomorrow, gotta go." Then, as casually as I could, I lay back against my headboard, trying my damndest to look at least a little innocent. "What was that about you getting drunk?"

"Uhhh...nothing?" My mother raised an eyebrow, unimpressed, as she leaned against the door with her arms crossed. Sighing, I explained, "There's a party on Friday night for school starting back and my friend Allison wants me to go, and you know that I am far too responsible for have any kind of fun with anyone who isn't Elphaba."

She, of course, scoffed but it gave way to a small smile as she looked me over, "So you made a new friend, huh?" I nodded eagerly, anything to change the subject, "Yup, two, actually. Possibly three. But two if you want reliable figures." She nodded her understanding, red ponytail swinging with the movement, "Gotcha. Well, I'm happy for you. Now get downstairs, your Aunt wants to watch 'The Walking Dead' and I am not sitting through another rant about why it's immoral to start without you." I stared in offended disbelief at her back as she strolled away from my room.

"It was the season finale!"

The rest of the week passed by surprisingly quickly, without any magic as per my Mother's rules, and I found myself getting used to Beacon Hills and the people in it. Allison was great, she somehow managed to be simultaneously shy and sharp as a tack which I appreciated, and Lydia was… well I soon found out the only way to describe her was as Lydia, any other adjective and you'd probably be wrong. Though despite having a good, I would dare say great, week, I was very much not looking forward to Lydia's party.

Parties and I didn't really mix. Well, high stress situations and I didn't really mix and that was what parties were for me; highly stressful. First there was deciding if I wanted to go diving in the hormone pool that was high school to look for a date. Then there was the classic challenge of finding something to wear that didn't make me look like a cheap Shirley Temple impersonator. And of course there was the actual party itself, with too many 6'1"s dwarfing my 5'2" and not enough room to breath, it all made for a pretty bad experience.

But I was going anyway because Allison had asked me to and that girl seriously knew how to guilt a person into doing what she wanted. Which is why I was now standing outside of a house that seemed to be way too big for a small town like Beacon Hills and why I was bothering to lug my feet up the stone steps and into the giant house.

I was immediately met with way more people than I was comfortable being around and an urge to glare at Allison for at least an hour for making me show up.

I was brought back from my Allison hate trip when I was jostled forward from the entrance and toward the throng of hormones in front of me. I spun with a glare to face the idiot who had barged through the door and lifted an eyebrow when I found it was Scott's friend from the first day of school. "Wanna watch where you're going?"

His eyes widened as he nervously scratched the back of his neck, "I-I did not see you there. Uh s-sorry. Really..." I studied him for a moment and then shrugged, "Okay, we're good, just don't throw me to the hormonal hoard of zombies again." His head bobbed and I raised an eyebrow when he coughed uncomfortably.

"You're Scott's friend, right?"

His head snapped up and his eyes flew around the room, seemingly searching for said friend. "Have you seen him? Here? At the party? He wasn't with Allison was he?" My eyebrows furrowed, "Uh, not yet. He and Allison should be here soon though, she texted me saying they were on their way."

He let out a sigh that I probably wasn't supposed to hear and my eyebrow rose even higher. What had him so worked up? "Hey, you want to go get a drink?" His eyes widened again and my mouth pulled up a bit at the corner.

"Me? Get a drink? With you?" He seemed genuinely perplexed so I shrugged, "If you want. I mean, you don't have to."

"No! No, I want to." I smiled at him and motioned over my shoulder with my thumb, "Cool, we just have to follow the line of our drunken peers to the keg."

I'm not gonna lie, watching Scott's friend, who's name I had learned was Stiles, work the pump on the keg was kinda hot. But that could've been because by the time he'd figured out how to work it I had already mooched enough vodka off of the people dancing around us that I would've found Jabba the Hutt attractive.

It turned out that he really wasn't bad company at all, kinda funny actually, in a sarcastic hyperactive, always moving sort of way.

"So, you're new here huh? How do you like Beacon so far?" My head swivelled his way and I sniffled, my brow furrowing, "Uhhhh, it's good. Kinda muggle-y but I expected that. It's better than our last town though; that place was all bitches, backstabbers, and botox." His nose scrunched up then, in a way even sober me would find cute.

"Muggle-y?" I nodded earnestly, "This place is disturbingly muggle-y."

"Like Harry Potter?" His face was still scrunched up adorably and I sighed, "Yeah but without the wands and the made-up stuff. 'Cause love potions? That shit doesn't work!" Stiles' face was a different kind of scrunched up now, it was reminiscent of how I imagined I looked when Allison suggested I come to the party, his eyebrows raised unbelievably high on his forehead as I muttered, "Screw you too, Hermione."

"Anyway…I-I should go find Scott and you-" He paused, looking around until he spotted a cooler filled with water bottles,"-you should drink one of these, or three, go crazy!" I watched him duck through the crowd with a bottle of water in my hand, scanning the huddles of teenagers and spotting Allison standing by herself as Scott ran away from her.

I furrowed my brow and started my way over to her, skirting past grinding classmates and drunk lacrosse players to get to where she stood looking lost and confused.

"Hey, Argent, where did your puppy dog go?" Her hair whipped around as she spun to face me and I watched in concern as she stood on her tiptoes to see over people's heads, searching for her date. "I don't know. One minute we're dancing and then he's running off looking like he's going to throw up."

I scoffed, "Not the best way to win over a girl." Allison briskly nodded her agreement as she slipped her hand into mine and started dragging me toward the door, "Come on, Tabby. I want to check if he's feeling okay."

We pushed through everyone and out the front door only to be met by Scott driving away like his life depended on it. Allison's entire body slumped with disbelief and I clapped her shoulder in sympathy, "Sorry, Al. Bad dates happen."

"Why would he just leave me here?" I sighed as I looked at the downtrodden girl next to me,"I would give you a ride, but my Aunt brought me here 'cause she didn't trust me to not drink too much."

"Allison. I'm a friend of Scott's. My name's Derek." We both spun at the sound of her name and I was far too aware of the alcohol in my system as I took in the stranger in front of me, "Oh my Glob". Tall, dark and smokin' didn't even spare me a glance as he smiled at Allison, "I was wondering if you needed a ride home, I know Scott wouldn't want you to be stranded here all by yourself."

I scoffed, raising an eyebrow at 'Derek' incredulously, "Does she look like she's all by herself? We are just fine, thank you very much. And I'm sure Scott wouldn't want her to get into a car with a dude she doesn't know. Am I the only one who watches Dateline?"

Allison looked a little bit embarrassed by me, which I was totally fine with by the way, and all Derek did was raise an eyebrow at me blandly. "Honestly, Tabby it's fine. I'm sure Scott's friend is perfectly safe." I wasn't buying it but she still turned from me to him with a small shy smile gracing her lips, "I would really appreciate a ride home, if it isn't too much trouble."

His answering smile was dazzling and I almost regretted not bringing my sunglasses, "Not at all." And just as he turned to direct her towards his car, I grabbed her hand and raised both of my eyebrows expectantly, "Call me when you get home, okay?" She nodded indulgently and I jutted my chin out stubbornly. "Good. Be safe and remind me to get you to invest in pepper spray."

My eyes never left them until they got in his car, a Camaro that made me resent my poor Toyota, and only then did I huff out a breath and spin away from the sidewalk.

Only to catch Stiles staring between his phone and the street Scott's car sped down with a more than frustrated look on his face.

"Stiles!" Of course, he jumped at least 3 feet into the air but it got his attention didn't it? "What happened to Scott? He just up and left Allison in the middle of their date."

He was twitching all over the place and sweating just a little bit too much as he answered me, "W-What? He looked fine to me! Maybe better than he usually does." He deflated at my withering glare and waved his hand in the direction his best friend disappeared in, "I don't know, okay? He's been acting weird all week."

With my hands on my hips, I pursed my lips in thought, "Alright, then we go check on him. You know, make sure he isn't passed out at the wheel. I mean, he probably just went home… you know where that is, right?"

Stiles' jaw was slack as he stared at me dumbfounded for what was definitely over standard gawking time until he snapped back to himself and his mouth closed with an audible click, "Uhh, you want to what? T-That's probably not a good idea, I mean-"

"Stiles, he ditched one of my only friends at a party where 99% of the people were drunk with no way of knowing how she was gonna get home. I think she deserves an explanation as to why, don't you?" He pursed his lips stubbornly for what seemed like a really really long time, looking between me and the road Scott drove down, before he swivelled his head in the direction of his Jeep, striding over to the driver's side and looking back at me expectantly.

I, of course, wasted no time in climbing into the passenger seat with a smug, albeit surprised, tilt of my lips as he drove us to Scott McCall's house.

When we got there, Stiles wasted no time in leaping from behind the steering wheel and bounding up to Scott's front door, I raced behind him trying to keep up with my much, much shorter legs as he sprinted up the stairway and over to what I could safely assume was Scott's bedroom door and started banging on it.

We both exchanged glances as we heard a muffled "Go away" come from inside but Stiles kept hitting the wood of the door, adamant that he was going to open it, "Scott, it's me!" I started when the door opened a crack though Stiles kept going, "Let me in, Scott! I can help!"

To say that the heavy breathing and the pained groans coming from Scott's side of the door didn't trouble me would be a lie but what came next had me shuffling closer, despite myself. "No, you gotta find Allison." And I found myself wanting to comfort the boy, "Scott, she's fine. She got a ride home from the party, alright? Don't worry."

His breath was coming in aggravated pants now and Stiles and I exchanged another worried glance, Stiles still trying to get the door open, "Stiles, who is that?" I rolled my eyes exasperatedly, Dude sounds like he's dying of the plague and he wants to know who I am?

"It's Allison's friend Tabby, okay? Now let us in, Scott." Stiles sounded extremely panicky and I found my own breathing speeding up as I tried to see through the crack of the door, "No! I think I know who it is."

My brow furrowed deeper into my forehead in complete confusion as Stiles grew more and more frustrated, "Who- just let me in! We can talk-"

"It's Derek!" The hot guy? "Derek Hale is the werewolf," Wait, what? "He's the one that bit me, he's the one that killed the girl in the woods!" Holy shit! My eyebrows were possibly higher than they had been ever before and I cautiously took a step back from the door.

"Scott, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but Derek's the one who drove Allison home from the party." My voice rose what had to be an octave higher and I jumped when the door slammed shut and Stiles yelled after his best friend, "Scott!"

It was then that I remembered that Allison had yet to call me and I subsequently freaked. She hadn't even sent me a text telling me that she had gotten home safe. With all of her limbs. And both halves of her body. "Stiles, we have to go to Allison's house. Now!"

I never thought that I would but I found myself thanking the Powers That Be that Beacon Hills was the type of small town where everybody knew everyone's business; if it hadn't been then Stiles would have had no idea where to find Allison's house. Something I was immensely grateful for as even attempting a locator spell with alcohol tainting my power flow was not something I wanted to experience.

As it happened, she lived in an extremely fancy shmancy house that on a regular day I would have gawked at, I mean it had freakin' pillars, but Stiles and I were very much not focused on the grandeur as we raced up her driveway and rang the doorbell way more times than is socially acceptable.

"Come on, come on, come on." Stiles was almost hyperventilating and I, well I, was somewhere between deep rooted panic and hunting Derek Hale down with a very, very strong hex.

Both of our heads snapped up with an audible crack when the large wooden door swung open to reveal an unfamiliar redhead, who one could only assume was Allison's mother, and whom Stiles immediately began assaulting with his words, "Hi, Mrs Argent! Umm, you have no idea who we are - we're friends of your daughters and, uh, look this is gonna sound kinda crazy. Umm well really crazy actually, you know what crazy doesn't even describe-"

I cleared my throat rather loudly to get him to stop and almost instantly regretted it as Mrs Argents cold gaze flew to me, "We're sorry to bother you but is Allison home?"

With a sharp nod she swiveled her head to the staircase behind her and called for our friend, "Allison, it's for you!" And with yet another sharp nod and an apprehensive look she left the door frame, giving us a full view of Allison standing upstairs. Completely safe and not dead.

"Oh thank God! You said you would call me when you got home!" My voice was stern, far too similar to my Mom's for my liking, and it made Allison pull at her shirt sleeves with what I hoped was shame for making me panic, as she made her way to the door.

"I'm sorry, I was going to call you after I showered." My glare softened though I still crossed my arms disapprovingly, "Yeah well, don't think I'm gonna come running to check up on you every time some hot yet suspicious guy with a Camaro offers to take you home."

She laughed and my glare disappeared while Stiles cleared his throat awkwardly, "Well, um, Allison, we'll uh, see you at school!" She smiled shyly at him and shot us a quite "Thanks for checking on me." before she closed the door.

My body sagged as Stiles and I made our way back to the Jeep parked haphazardly across the Argent's driveway and I sighed tiredly, "Come on, buzzcut." His head jerked in my direction and I resisted the urge to smirk, "Huh?"

"We have to go find Scott."

The next six hours were spent in Stiles' Jeep, driving up and down the road's lining the Preserve. At my insistence to know what was going on Stiles had thoroughly explained what had been going on for the last week; how him and Scott had snuck out to look for half of the dead body that I had been on the news and how Scott had gotten bitten by what he thought was a wolf after Stiles had been forced to leave by his father, who happened to be the town's Sheriff. He then explained how Scott had been showing weird symptoms of something throughout the week with his impossible reflexes and not needing his inhaler. Right through to the party that Stiles had tried to convince Scott not to go to once he had become convinced that his best friend had, in fact, been turned into a baby Larry Talbot.

I, having heard Stiles' explanation, found it hard to not believe it too. Who was I to doubt what had happened when I myself was a little on the super side of natural?

Which got me wondering why I hadn't done a thing to speed up the search party. The thought had struck me before, I had six hours to think about it, and I had come to the conclusion that there was no point in wasting perfectly good energy trying to perform a locator spell on a boy who a) We knew was definitely in a specific area of the town of Beacon Hills i.e. The Preserve and who b) Was a WEREWOLF with an almost impossible chance of getting hurt (can you say apex predator?) but that didn't mean that there wasn't a piece of my stomach folding in on itself with guilt as I sat in Stiles' Jeep doing practically nothing.

Neither of us had seen even the smallest sign of Scott. No floppy haired teenagers at all. That was until Stiles let out a not so quite woop from beside me and I whipped my head away from the window to see Scott, shirtless and gripping his arm, walking along the side of the road in front of the Jeep. "Thank God!"

I maneuvered past Stiles into the back and watched as Scott slid into the warm seat with a relieved sigh, "Thanks, man."

Stiles mouth lifted up at the corner as he patted his friends shoulder, "Don't mention it." I shifted in my seat before passing the boy Stiles' discarded blazer and smiled when he grinned at me tiredly.

"Ugh" His head was leaning against the window now and I couldn't help but feel bad for him, he looked exhausted. "You know what actually worries me the most?"

Stiles looked at him out of the corner of his eye and even I could tell from my seat in the back that his eyes were bugging dangerously, "If you say Allison I'm gonna punch you in the head." He threatened and I snorted.

Scott groaned, though, "She probably hates me now." I clapped his shoulder amiably and shook my head, "She doesn't hate you. I mean, have you met her? I'm pretty sure that birds dress her in the morning."

Stiles scoffed at me from the front and elbowed Scott good naturedly, "I doubt that that's true but you might want to come up with a pretty amazing apology… or you know, you could just tell her the truth and revel in the awesomeness of the fact that you're a freakin' werewolf!"

It was my turn to scoff sarcastically, "Forget what I said, you should do that! Revealing that you turn into a giant hairy predator always work for guys in the movies." Stiles rolled his eyes at me from the rearview mirror, and I marveled at how quickly he had become comfortable with me when it had been only hours since we were awkwardly conversing at Lydia's party.

The boy behind the wheel, obviously not privy to my thoughts, dove right back in after seeing Scott's look of disbelief, "Okay, fine, bad idea."

There were a few moments of silence in the car while Scott seemed lost in his own thoughts, a hopeless expression on his face that Stiles seemed to note, "Hey, we'll get through this. Come on, if I have to I'll chain you up myself on full moon nights and feed you live mice. I had a boa constrictor once, I could do it."

I snorted from behind them and scooted forward on my seat, "Yeah and if you flash some fang we'll just tell everyone you're really into 'Twilight'."

Once Stiles drove me home, I was welcomed by a very angry Mother and a slightly proud, but worried, Aunt who then sentenced me to my room to await my punishment.

I didn't really care about the extra chores I would undoubtedly be saddled with though. What I did care about was that Beacon Hills was really not as 'muggle-y' as I thought it was. There were werewolves in Beacon Hills! Freakin' werewolves! And while my Mother would definitely not be happy with my discovery on account of the retractable claws, I was ecstatic. Who would have thought that 'Boring' and 'Beacon Hills' were mutually exclusive?

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