Spell of Forthcoming's Spent
Chapter 2: Only Ever Minding to the Overactive Anklebiter
Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or the characters.
Peter straightened his tie. Today was his first day for his new job. He smiled just thinking about it. He decided to go the same route he went in approaching Hannah. But unlike getting a job at an IT firm that he didn't like to get her attention. He got a job at a small firm that handled city tech. And to top it off he was assigned to the Sheriff station. He couldn't help the smirk taking over his features.
He was also off the hook for watching the pups; the job now falling to Paul and Laura.
Talia had made a huff about it when he said he wanted to get a job, stating that he had a responsibility. He used the same line he had the first time around… or was it in his other timeline? This was confusing, even for him.
"Talia I think I found someone," Peter said.
"You mean a mate?" Talia's focus sharpened from where she was reading a book on the settee.
"I certainly hope so," Peter smiled at her. It was smarmy and smug, and stretched his features.
"My baby has found someone? Peter! You need to tell Mama these things when they happen." Grandma Kay asked, rushing into the room, apron on and smeared with cookie dough. Kyra the first was an unusual woman. She was darker in color then even Talia, and he hair was never neatly done. She always had it tied up in a loose messy bun, or hanging wildly about her face with leaves and sticks going every which way. Peter didn't think she ever brushed it, he was actually sure of it. Her blue-green eyes always sparkled with mischief and she always seemed a bit crazed… on second thought, maybe she is where he got it from. Certainly food for thought.
"Mother, no, I just think maybe," Peter tried.
Talia laughed at Peter's retraction.
"Tell us about him," Grandma Kay demanded as Danny-Mae entered and took a seat beside Talia. "Everything, we want to know everything."
"I-uh-he…" Peter sighed. It's not like this wasn't the first time this happened. "His name is John Stilinski. He has a seven year old boy that is hyperactive, intelligent, and amazing. When I met John it felt like… like an instant connection. And the moment I met Stiles his son, I fell in love with him. They just feel like a puzzle that I fit into."
"John Stilinski the Sheriff?" Ken asked. Peter looked over his shoulder at the man who was leaning against the door frame, his wife settled against his side.
"Yes, that's him," Peter offered.
Ken nodded, "He's a good man." He chuckled, "Though his little boy is quite the handful."
"Stiles is just spirited," Peter huffs.
"And isn't that just like a new parent to defend his pup." Grandma Kay cooed. "I'm sure they're both lovely. You need to bring them over for dinner."
"I haven't even started dating him yet." Peter said.
"Only a matter of time," Danny-Mae rebuked.
Peter shook his head. Just thinking of his family's reaction to new members coming in was exasperating. Though he had a feeling that they will like John a lot more then they like Hannah. It seemed like he would click better with them. He grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. He wanted to make a good impression, and showing up late on the job was not the way to do it.
Peter spun on his chair. His head would whip around look at his screen. He had been at this job for over three days… and it was boring. He could honestly work from home with his new handy-dandy firm laptop, only ever coming to the station when needed to fix a technical problem, rather than just glitches in the system.
But if he did that he'd get stuck with kid duty. And if he was going to be stuck with kid duty then there was only one child he wanted to spend time with.
The problem is that he hadn't been able to run into John again other than the day he started his job when he had to sign papers about confidentiality. They had chatted… flirted for about a minute before John received a call.
"Petah?"
Peter whirled around. How the hell had the kid snuck up on him? "Stiles," he breathed out. "It's Peter Stiles. What are you doing here?"
"I said that Petah, and Daddy was on the phone and I'm not supposed to being an interruptsing him. So I was shooting the cameras and then I found you." Stiles grinned holding up a toy gun that looked like a pistol and had an orange dart ready for fire. That explained why the kid was so good at handling that gun in the future if he practiced like this now.
"Interrupting him would be bad." Peter nodded his head, "He is very busy."
"But I'm hungry Petah. He was sposed to take me to get something to eat." Stiles grumbled as he held his stomach.
Peter smiled at him. "Well why don't we fix that." Peter stepped up and hefted Stiles into his arms. "Have you grown since I saw you last? You sure are getting heavy."
Stiles giggled, "No, no one grows that fast Petah."
"Maybe you ate too much," Peter tried walking down the hall to the Sheriff's office.
"No, Petah. I'm hungry. I may not grow fast but I am still a growing boy."
"Ah okay," Peter smiled at him.
He stepped into the office's ajar door and spotted the man behind his desk on the phone still. Upon seeing Peter he smiled, but then caught sight of Stiles and his smile dropped a little in exasperation. "Hey, yeah, can you hold on for a minute," he said to the person on the other side of the line. "Peter, I'm so sorry that he bothered you. He was supposed to stay put."
Peter waved him off, "No, its no problem. I was actually coming to ask if I could take Stiles to pick up lunch, if that's okay?"
"Lunch?"
"Stiles was getting a little nippy and it is around that time, so I figured that we could go get something to bring back while you take care of what you need to." Peter then paused and said, "If that's okay with you, that is?"
"Uh, yeah sure, that be—that be great actually." The Sheriff looked at his phone grimacing. "I should be another thirty minutes or so."
Peter smiled, "We'll take our time, maybe pick up some dessert." Peter walked out the door, Stiles still in his arms.
The Sheriff watched the man. This was the second time he had seen the man holding Stiles and Stiles actually quieted and content to just be there. And when Stiles did talk Peter hadn't minded in the least. Shaking his head he picked up his phone and said, "Hello, yes I'm back, sorry about that." He'd think more on it later.
The Sheriff was done with his phone call, and his papers put away before Peter and Stiles even made it back. The phone call not taking as long as he thought it would. That was okay though. It gave him time to think on some things.
Like the funny fluttering feeling he got every time he saw Peter. They hadn't actually talked a whole lot since he began to work here, but that didn't mean that John hadn't been paying him any attention.
At first he had thought it was his cop senses tingling. That sixth sense you have when you see a perp and know they were up to something. But the more he had observed the man the more he could honestly say that that wasn't what was going on. He felt as if he were in a crisis since he met the man. A crisis of what, he hadn't a clue.
So he watched him from afar and he could say that he liked what he saw. Peter was polite, and he hadn't disrespected anyone in the department. He was careful and watched everything. It was done with a meticulousness that even the most trained officer would be hard put to imitate.
He wasn't always nice, though he kept those thoughts to himself. But John could see it in how he gazed at some people, or how he reacted to them. Peter hated one of his deputies—Kolbe Argent—and John couldn't really fault him in it. Kolbe had been harassing Peter from the very moment he started work here in the office, and it was always escalating. Kolbe had tried to lock Peter in the bathroom, 'as a joke', just yesterday. That was when John found out Peter had a fear of small enclosed spaces. Kolbe was written up and if he got one more citation he'd be off the force. John didn't think it take to long before that happened.
Peter cared very much for his family. Especially his little cousins. He wouldn't shut up about them to Deputy Sally Davenport about them. He also heard that Peter very much wanted little ones of his own, but that might not happen because the man was gay.
Peter had given him a lot to think on in such short period of knowing him.
The Sheriff looked up as he saw Stiles rush into the room. The seven year old's hand was stuffed in a bag and he already had curly fries hanging from his mouth.
"Stiles, you little imp, I told you to wait," Peter rushed in after him.
"'O 'addy u'll easts awe vey 'urly fies!" Stiles said his mouth full. He squealed as he was lifted up, giggling and wiggling about in Peter's arms, "I's gosta eas 'em 'urst!"
"Don't talk with your mouth full," Peter admonished, a sigh on his lips. The weird thing, John noted, was that Peter didn't look annoyed or like he was about to strangle the kid, but that he was still smiling. Softly and lovingly was his gaze still, as he gathered Stiles up into his lap, putting both bags, the one he held, and the one in Stiles hands, up and onto the desk. "And we have to share the curly fries Stiles. We don't want your Daddy to feel left out do we?" Then Peter gasped, "Unless you want to give him your dessert?"
Stiles' eyes widened, "NO!" He shook his head, "No I'll share. I'll share I promise." Stiles looked at his dad, "You can have some fries, and I can have some dessert," he said as if that settled it.
John found himself laughing, Peter laughing right along with him as he set out the food on the desk. Stiles pouted.
After both men quieted to chuckles Peter cleared his throat, "I got you a chicken salad, and water. When I tried to order you a burger Stiles flipped. But I got you fries." Peter looked to the half-eaten fries. "Or at least I tried to."
John scratched the back of his neck, "Oh yeah, ever since his mom passed he's been trying his best to keep me healthy."
"Smart boy," Peter nodded, hugging Stiles close as the boy ate his nuggets.
"To smart," John chuckled.
Peter gazed up from his own salad and smiled, "Hey you know if you ever need someone to watch him, I'd love to."
"Are you sure," the sheriff's eyebrows knitted together. "That's a hefty offer, most of his babysitters quit within hours."
Peter smiled at Stiles, "I think I could rough it out. It'd be a lot of fun."
"Well alright, but you're gonna regret that offer." John spoke gruffly.
As it turned out the Sheriff did call… a week later and at 3 o'clock in the morning.
