Allison and Stiles crouched down to load the rifles they'd purchased earlier in the day. In the distance the howls of multiple werewolves filled the night's air. They looked at each other and nodded. They would soon find out if they had prepared enough.
"Allison," Stiles said, his voice cracking slightly.
"Yes?" Allison sounded distant, focused on what was coming for them.
"If I don't make it…" Stiles scrubbed the back of his fist against his eyes, "if I don't make it I want you to have my comic book collection. Scott can teach you how to take care of it."
Allison glanced over at him, eyes widening and mouth falling open slightly. "Don't talk like that. We're all coming out of this, or none of us are. You and me, Lydia too, we're all going to be fine."
Lydia's voice cut through the moment they were having, "Don't bring me into this, I'm just here to decorate."
Stiles glanced back at Lydia; she was hanging a set of beige blinds in the north facing window of the tree fort. He grinned at her, but she ignored him. Having finished her work she dusted her hands off and dropped onto one of the three bean bag chairs that decorated the inner sanctum. She picked up an issue of Cosmo instead of the third rifle.
"Lydia, we could use your help in repelling the monsters coming for us," Stiles said.
Lydia scoffed at him and flipped the page of the magazine she was holding. Stiles sighed. She wasn't holding up the sacred trust he had forced her to sign. He made a whiny sound and pouted. She glanced at him momentarily then pointedly turned to the next page.
"Stiles, are you sure the werewolves won't be able to climb the tree?" Allison looked at the hole in the middle of the floor where they had pulled up the rope ladder.
"It won't matter if they do. The wood we used to make the fort is mountain ash." He grinned as her brown eyes widened in shock.
"But we'll never be able to invite our boyfriends up here," Allison said. "We'll never be able to share this with them."
"We said we were going to make a 'No Wolves Allowed' fort, that's what we did. Besides, I knew if we didn't use that type of wood I'd eventually cave and let Derek sex me up in here," Stiles said.
Allison blushed and looked back out the window, smiling slightly as she checked her rifle again. "Isn't it sort of unfair that they can't get to us up here?"
Stiles wondered if she was as good a shot with a rifle as with a bow. He'd soon find out. They all would. "Isn't it sort of unfair that they're super fast and strong? We humans have to use the tools we have. That's why we're the number one species on the planet, not werewolves. I'll defend this fort to the death; it's my pride on the line here."
"You're such a liar," Lydia said, "You know you're just going to give up and roll over when Derek asks you to come down."
"No way," Stiles practically squealed, his voice raising an octave. "I'll gun down Frowny before he can even beg me for mercy. Cut the head off the snake as it were. Without Derek to lead them, Jackson and Scott will just run around like chickens with their heads cut off until we dispatch them too."
"You think you can really shoot Derek?" Lydia asked. Her eyes locked onto Stiles, he felt like she was judging his resolve.
"Well… sure. With this I can, I can get him before he can turn his sex eyes on me." Stiles patted the rifle he was holding.
"Enough talk! They're here!" Allison opened fire on someone who had come into the clearing below. The noise the gun made caused Stiles to jump and almost drop his rifle.
"Holy shit, Allison, you're shooting at me," Scott yelled from behind a tree he'd ducked behind for cover.
"All's fair in love and war, baby. Now show me those beautiful brown eyes. I dare you."
"You're so hardcore, Allison. Awesome," Stiles said, "I love it!"
"You're bluffing, Allison; I know you wouldn't hurt me," Scott called back. "There's no way you'd shoot me with a rifle."
"Come out here and test that theory," Allison taunted. "I'm pretty sure I took you down with a taser before."
"She is fond of that taser," Lydia observed as she flipped to another page of her magazine. She was entirely too calm in the midst of the warzone the tree fort had become.
"Don't get distracted. I'm sure Scott's the decoy." Stiles sighted down the length of his rifle, sweeping it back and forth looking for the other werewolves.
"No way," Lydia said, "he's not smart enough for that."
"That's why they wouldn't tell him they were going to use him like that," Stiles said.
"Oh hell no," Lydia dropped the magazine and picked up the third rifle. "I'm not getting outsmarted by a pack of evolved puppies."
Stiles fist pumped the air. Lydia was in the game. Shit was about to get real. He watched in fascination as she army crawled over to the hole in the floor keeping the rifle in front of her. She must have been watching Jackson play too many video games to know how to do that.
Scott poked his head out from around the tree he'd taken cover behind. "Allison, come down here. I just want to talk."
"Come out with your hands up and I'll think about it." Allison winked at Stiles. "Baby, I miss you, maybe you should come join our team. We're better than Derek and Jackson anyway."
"Yeah?" Scott walked out from behind the tree, and Allison immediately unloaded half a clip at him. She would have nailed him, but Derek tackled the beta and rolled back into the trees. A volley of multicolored paintballs peppered the area.
"Allison," Scott yelped. "You're trying to shoot me with freakin paintballs?"
"Baby, I told you all is fair in love and war." Allison swiftly ejected the clip on her rifle and replaced it with a fresh one.
The sound of a gun unloading from behind them caused both Allison and Stiles to wheel around. Lydia had one eye closed as she fired through the hole in the floor. The two of them glanced at each other before staring slack jawed at Lydia again.
"Ow, what the fuck?" Jackson yelled. Lydia must have scored first blood. Stiles made a mental note to never fuck with her again, at least while she was holding a weapon.
"You're dead, honey. Lie down and give up." Lydia had a disturbingly satisfied smile on her face.
"That's bullshit. I'm a werewolf. You shot me in the shoulder and all that would do is slow me down for a second until it healed." Jackson probably didn't realize just how sulky he sounded. Stiles would have given anything to have a picture of his pouting blue eyes complaining about where he'd been shot. The image was so ridiculous he laughed out loud.
"Ok fine," Lydia said. "I'm sorry. I'm tired of this game anyway. Come up here and help me down, we broke the ladder earlier. You'll have to carry me on your back."
Stiles and Allison gaped at her, but she winked at them. The sound of wood cracking and splintering drifted up through the hole in the floor. Jackson must have dug his claws in to scale the tree without the use of the ladder. In that moment Stiles realized Lydia's plan, and knew what was coming was going to be brutal.
"Jackson, stop! It's a trick!" Derek must have realized what was going to happen too, but it was too late, and Jackson was probably too stubborn.
"No way, Lydia said she's tired of the game. That's perfectly normal," Jackson said.
"Yeah, and her asking for your help?" Derek sounded resigned. Stiles would have felt sympathy for him if they weren't mortal enemies locked in combat. He grinned only a little bit, and hardly felt guilty.
"Oh shit," Jackson said. Stiles heard the realization and horror in his voice. He tried really hard not to start giggling.
"Bye bye, honey." Lydia unloaded the rest of her clip down the hole where Jackson was presumably clinging to the tree unable to dodge. Stiles winced at the grunting noise Jackson made when he hit the ground. "You're dead now, Jackson, right? Do I need to reload?" Lydia was delightfully merciless when it came to games. Stiles still had Vietnam flashbacks of the most brutal game of Battleship he'd ever played.
Jackson didn't respond, but Lydia seemed satisfied with whatever gesture of surrender he made. She got up off the floor and took position at the window on the opposite side of the tree fort. Clearly she'd switched into business mode, and for Lydia, business was good.
Stiles turned to check on Scott and Derek, and unloaded most of his clip when he saw Scott gesture for Derek to join him behind a large rock at the edge of the clearing. Stiles had known that it was going to be a problem, but there wasn't any other tree big enough for his design of the sanctuary.
"It looks like they're making a plan," Allison said. She nibbled her lower lip. "I think Scott's the one coming up with it."
"Looks like we don't have anything to worry about then," Stiles joked, but winced as Allison punched him in the side. Even if they were on opposite sides at the moment, Stiles knew Allison wouldn't let anyone smack talk Scott without some sort of repercussion. Stiles's phone buzzed in his pocket, the unexpected sensation almost caused him to drop his rifle out the window.
He dropped behind cover and opened the message. Derek had texted him, a dastardly move. Derek was cunning and evil. The message said, 'If you want your birthday present (hint: you very much do), take care of the two women and come join our side.' The illogical part of Stiles's mind told him that Derek's use of extensive special characters while texting in a high stress situation was sort of amazing, but mostly he was focused on the mystery present. Evil, Derek was capital 'E' evil. The werewolf had promised he'd get something really special tonight after they played the war games Allison had planned for Stiles's birthday. Lydia and Allison looked at him in alarm. They must have sensed his momentary weakness.
Stiles wasn't going to be proud of what he intended to do. He unloaded several shots from his rifle in the enclosed space of the fort. Allison and Lydia both yelped in shock. Stiles stood up and leaned out the window. All's fair in love and war though, right? He felt dirty, it was only going to get worse. Maybe he was a terrible person underneath all the sexiness and intelligence.
"Derek," Stiles called out. "Let's negotiate the defection now. I want to know what you're offering."
"Told you he'd give up if you offered him something sexy," Scott said. "Let's go." The two werewolves came out from behind the rock looking smug. All of their swagger melted away when Allison and Lydia jumped up into the window, and the three of them brought down a rain of paintball hell upon Derek and Scott. They were so shocked they didn't even react as they were peppered by the capsules until an errant shot hit Scott in the groin. He dropped like a sack of rocks.
"Oh god," Scott panted, his voice came out far too strained. "I think I'm going to throw up."
"Stiles," Derek growled. "You're supposed to have joined our side."
"Sorry, Derek, but we'd already planned for this contingency and developed a secret series of hand signals for if one of us was offered a chance to betray the others." Stiles winked down at Derek's dumbfounded expression.
"You've got to be kidding me," Derek said. "That's ridiculous."
"All the brain power in the pack is up in this fort." Lydia shook her hair out of her face. "That's why all the wolves are dead."
"Bitches," Jackson mumbled from bellow the tree house. Lydia calmly walked back over to the hole in the floor and unloaded the rest of her clip. Stiles carefully joined her to survey the damage. Jackson had one hand covering his groin, the other his head. He rolled out of the line of fire. Lydia ejected the clip with a satisfied smile on her face. Stiles wasn't even going to pretend to try to understand the dynamics of their relationship.
"You know Stiles," Derek said. "This means you probably aren't going to get your present now."
Stiles returned to the window and pouted down at Derek, inwardly gleeful as he watched Derek's resolve start to crumble. Stiles grinned right before Derek caved, freeing the werewolf from the spell of his eyes and lips. For whatever reason Derek always folded when Stiles pushed a subject. "Oh I'll get the present, or you won't get any of this sweet ass tonight! Plus I have a surprise for you too, but you have to show me yours before I'll show you mine."
"Over-share," Jackson and Scott grunted in unison, though Scott's voice was still higher pitched than normal. A groin shot to a werewolf left psychological scars even after the pain had gone away and the bruises healed.
Derek pulled his paint covered shirt off and rubbed his hand languidly across his abs. Stiles licked his lips, the rifle dropping from his suddenly nerveless fingers as Derek unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped them. Stiles could see the boxer briefs Derek was wearing. Stiles wanted to know what they felt like… with his tongue. His brain started to lose most of its higher functions.
"Come down here and we'll go back to the house and celebrate the rest of your birthday," Derek said.
"Later, ladies," Stiles said as he dropped the rope ladder down through the hole in the floor. "It's been real." The girls laughed as he shimmied down the ladder. Jackson was lying on his stomach seemingly still afraid of getting shot again. Stiles patted him on the ass. "Good game, Jackson."
Derek turned to walk away. Stiles ran to catch up, and tucked his hands into the back pockets of Derek's jeans. He glanced at Scott who was sort of rolling back and forth on the ground and groaning. Stiles winced in sympathy. "Allison I think you're boy needs some TLC." He didn't wait around to hear her response though. Derek's pace was picking up, and Stiles practically vibrated with excitement thinking of what Derek might have planned.
"Just remember, Stiles, you earned this." Derek's voice was probably meant to sound ominous. Stiles licked his lips and his grip on the back of Derek's jeans tightened. He couldn't wait.
