AN: Check out my profile for a poll on who you should think becomes a werewolf! Also, these first several chapters are simply the calm before the storm.
Chapter 4
Pack Projects
or
Martha Stewart for Werewolves
The old burned out shell of the Hale House was all that Derek had left of his family. Despite the scent of burned wood and the years since it had actually held his family; the wood still contained their scents. He couldn't bare the thought of it going to some landfill. In the end, the wood was all that he had left of his family.
He had spoken to the contractor about not wanting to get rid of all the wood, and the contractor had suggested that he use it to build various bits of furniture for the house. The wood was still good after all, not all of it was burned through, and some of it had never even been touched by the flames.
It was a big stack of wood that had brought the pack to Danny's back yard on a saturday morning.
Danny had arrived at the Hale property around seven that morning with his father's truck and helped the alpha load up the bed with as much wood as could fit. While Danny drove back to his home, with it's roomy fenced in back yard; Derek had headed off to the hardware store and purchased the supplies that they would need.
Now it was noon and Scott, Stiles, and Jackson had joined Danny and Derek in the back yard.
"Is this really safe Derek? I mean, you've never seen Stiles in shop class. They had to kick him out so he wouldn't kill someone!"
"You know Scott, you wern't any better. They kicked you out too!"
"Yea, but that was because the saw dust triggered my asthma! Not because I nearly cut off someone elses finger!"
Stiles was about to shoot back a retort to his best friend, but for once he just didn't have one. Derek was beginning to think that maybe this wasn't a good idea. Even werewolves couldn't recover from severed limbs. The thought of severed limbs brought back the thought on had he had nearly had Stiles cut off his arm. If the other teen hadn't held off for as long as he did, then Derek would be one arm down.
Still, the little shit shouldn't have punched him to wake him up when he passed out.
"We'll keep Stiles away from anything sharp. We'll keep him away from the nails and hammers too. And the glue." When he saw Stiles holding up a canister of glue, he suddenly got the image of Stiles with his hand glued to something...and the resulting hours in the Emergency Room. "Stiles, for the love of God, put the glue down!"
Stiles nearly dropped the glue at the panicked yell from the alpha, but Scott had reached out just in time to prevent the tub from falling to the ground and causing a sticky mess.
"Okay oh Mighty Alpha. I can't use the saws, or the nails and hammers, I can't use the glue. What the hell am I supposed to do?"
"How about you play the mommy and bring the rest of us lemonade and sandwiches." Jackson had meant it as a joke, but both Scott and Derek were nodding. It really was the safest bet.
"Well I wouldn't exactly call it being 'the mommy' but Jackson is right Stiles. You're on refreshment duty. Just don't use anything sharper than a butter knife when making lunch."
Stiles grumbled but headed inside the house. It wasn't a good idea to fight with the alpha. If Derek hadn't scared him before when he was only a beta, he terrified him now that he was an alpha.
"Don't make a mess! My mom will kill me if you ruin the kitchen!"
Stiles simply flipped everyone the bird over his shoulder.
As it turned out, lunch was actually something that Stiles was good at. When his mother had passed away when he was ten, he had learned how to cook out of necessity. His father had worked long hours, and Stiles was left to his own devices. After a few months of living off of canned food, frozen dinners, and take out; he had decided that 'enough was enough'! A few months later his father had been sent to the hospital with chest pains. It had only been a bad case of heart burn, but Stiles had decided then and there that his father wasn't going to end up dying of a heart attack if he had anything to do with it.
He had learned to cook all on his own without anyone's help; and somehow he had never set anything on fire. It turned out that he was a natural when it came to cooking.
It was nearly two when Stiles made his way out of Danny's house to look out over what the pack had succeeded in doing so far. There was a coffee table already assembled. Scott was sanding it down while Derek and Jackson had begun working on assembling a book case. Danny had been put in charge of cutting the wood to size. It turned out that the hacker wasn't only good with computers but that he was great with math as well, so the job was easy for him.
He looked out over the group covered in saw dust and huffed softly. They had better enjoy his food because he didn't put so much effort into it for nothing.
"Lunch is ready!"
Three sets of glowing eyes turned to him, one blood red, one amber, and one blue. The three wolves stopped what they were doing before brushing the dust off of themselves and heading inside to find their food. Danny turned off the saw and removed his goggles and face mask before following the wolves inside.
The group was greated with a large spread. Stiles had made a chicken stir fry with fluffy white rice. The rice and stir fry were in seperate serving bowls on the table and the table was set expertly.
"Shit...Stiles is Martha freaking Stewart!"
The group turned to look at Jackson who was looking at what Stiles had made with drool pratically running from his mouth. Jackson didn't say anything else until after he had devoured two plates piled high with food.
And there is chapter 4. The next chapter will begin our conflict.
