Stiles parked his Jeep a few blocks away from his destination, taking the opportunity to sneak up on the prowler in Danny's aunt's house. He and Scott stuck to the shadows, making their way down the deserted road. He strained his human eyes, watching the numbers on the houses change.

641…643…645. He stopped in front of the large yellow house, surprised at how nice it looked. He realized that they were in something of a high-end neighborhood. The house was old, with white trimming and a perfectly manicured lawn and garden. It had delicate features, like so many old houses in the area did, with a gently curving roof, white lattice shutters, and small flowers blooming in the tidy little garden. The moonlight cast an almost eerie glow on the perfect little house, making it seem more like a dollhouse from a horror movie than an actual residence. A tall wooden fence surrounded the backyard, making it impossible to see beyond the façade of the building. All together, Stiles surmised that the house was rather innocuous.

"The perfect scene for a crime," he mumbled to himself.

"I don't think it looks that bad," Scott whispered in response.

Stiles rolled his eyes, humoring his sidekick. "Well, let's go look at the window where the suspect was seen entering."

The two crept around to the fence. Scott easily jumped over the tall wooden obstacle, landing in the backyard. He waited a moment for his companion before realizing that Stiles wouldn't be able to scale the sheer wall alone.

He jumped back over, getting a sour look from Stiles. "I thought I was supposed to be the hero," Stiles said.

"Yes sir, Captain Obvious," Scott teased. He lifted his friend by the shoulders, hoisting the two of them high in the air, and landing lithely on the grass in the backyard of the house. The moon was shining from the other side of the house, casting a shadow on the backyard, making it easy to hide in the darkness. This area seemed to keep up the same appearance of the front yard. The lawn was well manicured, the gardens were tamed and groomed, and the decorations were tasteful and bland. As they walked around, Stiles tried to get an idea of the incident that had been reported. He circled the area, seeing where the prowler jumped over the fence, crushing some flowers. He noticed a few roses on the ground next to the house. Walking over to them, he looked up to see that they'd fallen from a large, white, lattice-structured trellis that extended up to a second-story window.

"Scott!" he called to the boy. "Look, he must have climbed up there."

Scott followed his indication, looking at the path torn through the plants by the prowler. "Huh, someone definitely climbed up there," he said, observing the side of the house. Stiles wondered what was going through his sidekick's head as he looked at the crime scene. The gears in the boy's head were obviously turning.

Reminding himself that he was the hero now, Stiles ignored Scott's odd reaction. Instead, he grabbed onto the white wooden trellis, cramming his feet into the small holes between the boards. Slowly, he pushed upward, unsteadily scaling the side of the house. The thorns of the roses tore at his skin and clothing, slowing his progress.

When he reached high enough on the structure, Scott hopped aboard the trellis as well. He knew that without Stiles, he could quickly make his way up to the open window. Instead, he waited for his friend, letting the boy have his excitement.

After what felt like hours, the boys had moved nearly a foot. Scott decided to take hold of the situation, having run out of patience for the boy's human inabilities long ago. He pushed his head against Stiles' body, the top of his head pushing against the backs of his friend's knees. Stiles jumped at the new sensation, almost falling as his knees buckled. Stiles was unsure of what his friend was doing; the position was uncomfortable for both people involved.

Scott used his werewolf prowess to climb the trellis quickly, the force of his body moving upward forcing Stiles to move quickly as well. He used his inhuman strength, speed, and agility to claw his way up the wooden boards, the top of his head propelling the denim-covered legs of his friend upward at the same pace. Together, they reached the open window in nearly a quarter of the time it would've taken Stiles alone. Now, Stiles was holding on to the old wooden window sill, balancing on the very top of the trellis, with his sidekick clinging to the roses a few inches lower than him.

Scott removed his head from the close proximity to his friend, leaning over and saying "I'm just helping out like a good sidekick." If Stiles had been looking down at the boy, he would've seen the grin on his face.

This grin turned into a more serious expression. Now that he was closer to the window, he was sure he knew what he was smelling. It was a familiar scent, but he almost couldn't put a name to it. As he pondered, Stiles grabbed the window pane, hoisting his body through the curtains and into the room. Realizing what the scent was, Scott looked up, whispering "Stiles, no!" He saw his friend's feet disappear into the window before he could give a proper warning.

Stiles rolled skillfully on the wooden floor, quietly landing on his face. He steadied himself, letting his mind take in the scene as he regained his senses. The room looked old, with a few pieces of antique-looking furniture. There was an old oak vanity with a small metal stool in front of it, a wooden wardrobe that looked so old and baroque that it might lead to Narnia, and a dark, ornate four-poster bed with white sheets. It was obviously a bedroom. As the room stopped spinning, Stiles registered some people in the bed to his right.

He stood, heroically striking a pose. He saw a struggle taking place beneath the covers. The prowler had gotten in and was now assaulting his friend, Danny! Stiles leapt into action, pulling back the blanket and readying himself for the impending fight.

He heroically grabbed the pale assailant off of his friend, pulling the man to his feet and pulling his arms behind him. Using his free hand, he reached down, checking the prowler's pockets for any weapons like he'd seen his dad do. Suddenly, Stiles realized how hastily he'd gotten into the situation.

Taking a moment to analyze the scene in front of him, Stiles become conscious of the error he'd made. He saw Danny lying on the bed, his purple t-shirt looking rumple lying just above his bellybutton, showing off his tanned abs. The button on his jeans was undone, exposing a tiny bit of waistband of his underwear. The boy looked both bewildered and angry. Stiles looked down to realize that the person that he had in a headlock was Jackson. His pale, muscular torso was exposed, and his jeans were also unbuttoned. Stiles realized that he had not found a prowler who'd snuck into his friend's house and attacked up, but rather his two friends as a couple sharing a night together.

"I- radio… there was a prowler," was all Stiles could find the mental capacity to say.

Jackson turned around, ripping his arms free of Stiles' grip. Danny sat up on the bed, watching the scene play out. Jackson place a large hand on Stiles' shoulder, his face brimming with dark anger.

Scott stood on the grass outside of the house, feeling almost guilty. He'd realized that something was amiss before they even reached the house, but he didn't mention anything to Stiles. Climbing up the trellis, he couldn't exactly place the smell, since it was so out of place. Furthermore, the smell of Stiles and the heady scent of the blooming roses made the smell of the prowler less clear. Only once his Captain Obvious had entered the house did he realize what the scent was. He smelled his friend and teammate Jackson, mixed with a heavy odor of arousal.

Looking up at the window, he saw Stiles' head poking out. He watched as the boy came flying out of the window, hurdling towards the earth. Stretching out his powerful, tanned arms, he readied himself, catching his friend before he plummeted to the earth. Jackson stood in the window, looking satisfied with himself. His sensitive hearing could even pick up Danny inside, saying "You threw him out of the window?"

Scott looked down at his friend, a smile playing on his cute, crooked jaw. Stiles glared back from the boy's arms. "You knew, didn't you? You didn't tell me, but you could smell Jackson."

Scott's smile broadened. "Thanks for pointing that out, Captain Obvious."