A/N: Sorry it took so long to update, guys. I've been swamped dealing with AP classes and college apps., but I should be getting chapters up more regularly again after I get done with my applications this month. Hopefully you'll like this chap.; thar be Sciles.

When Stiles arrives at his house a half-hour later, the pack—Jackson included—is clustered around Stiles's dining room table, arguing over the best way to infiltrate the alpha pack's evil lair and rescue him. He actually hears Scott us the term evil lair. They are so into the debate that they don't even notice that Stiles is even there until he slams the heavy wooden door behind him, causing them all to jump.

Stiles looks at their confused and relieved faces and smiles, suppressing a hiss at the pain that causes his split lip. "So, I see you found Jackson," he says lightly. "I started to leave him a water bowl, but I had faith you wouldn't let him sit there for too long."

Derek frowns and marches over to where Stiles stands. He reaches out and grasps Stiles's jaw with a hand, turning it side to side to inspect the bruises and cuts there. "What the hell did you do?" he asks softly.

"Oh, you know. Just visited some friends, had a nice chat—"

"You actually took on the alpha pack by yourself?" Isaac asks from where he still stands by the table. Stiles laughs at how cute Isaac's 'incredulous face' is. He says "No, I only took on about two-fifths of the alpha pack." He yanks his face out of Derek's grip. "No big deal, really."

"Stiles!" Derek basically shouts, "How could you do something so stupid? You're lucky they let you go with so few injuries—"

"Let me go?! They didn't just let me go, Derek." Stiles is preparing his rant in his head when all of the wolves suddenly stiffen, eyes turned toward the front door, then all at once run out of the door to the front of Stiles's house. Confused, the three humans follow out onto the porch only to be pushed back behind the wall of growling werewolves.

When a familiar female voice demands "Let us see him," Stiles understands. The alphas have come for him. Derek says "Never," through what sounds to Stiles like clenched fangs, and the alpha leader responds saying "If you don't let us see him, we'll cut all of you down until he's the only one left standing."

Stiles knows that Derek would totally let it come to that if it meant protecting the pack human, so he's quick to clear his throat, getting the attention of both alphas. "That won't be necessary," he says, pushing his way through his reluctant packmates until he stands beside Derek at the front edge of the porch. "I'm right here, totally ready to talk." Derek shoots him a 'what the fuck are you doing, Stilinski?' look, which is promptly ignored. He slowly descends the few steps between him and the front walk. "What can I do ya for?" he asks the amassed wolves. It looks like every alpha save for the four he'd already fought are arranged on the grass before him.

The alpha female smiles at him, a disconcerting sight. He's seen her a few times before during skirmishes between their two packs, a gorgeous woman with copper hair and large blue eyes, and knows how dangerous she is despite her looks. "First thing's first," she states. "Why don't you tell us why you attacked our packmates, Stiles?"

"Why don't you tell me why you attacked my dad's car, miss…I just realized that you know my name but I don't know yours. That's hardly fair."

"It's Natalie," she says. "And you ought to know that that little incident wasn't really about your papa, we just needed to make a point. As for my question—"

"As for your question," Stiles interrupts easily, "I just needed to make point, too: stay the fuck away from my dad."

"Well, you've definitely made yourself clear…Was it entirely necessary to kill Joshua, though? I rather liked him."

That catches Stiles off guard. He hadn't meant to kill anyone. "I…I didn't mean to hurt anyone that badly." He dips his head at her for just a moment. "You have my apologies."

"And the others? They weren't that much better off with all of the wolfsbane they inhaled." Natalie prompts.

"Those peasants got what they deserved," he replies, touching his side as he thinks of the earlier fight. Natalie's eyes fix on the claw marks Stiles had just touched through his ripped t-shirt. Her eyes narrow almost imperceptibly.

"You know, you could get help with that," she drawls. "One bite could heal all of that right up."

"Yeah, well I'm fine with being one of the Hale pack's humans. No bite necessary."

"Oh, honey. I meant a bite from one of us," Natalie says, her eyes beginning to glow red. Derek and the others begin to growl where they stand behind him. Possessive little puppies aren't they?

"You want to give me the bite, even after I killed one of your packmates? Why?"

Natalie shrugs. "Since alpha packs recruit alphas from other packs instead of turning people ourselves, there's not that strong of a bond there. We like each other, sure, but anyone can be replaced. We want to replace Joshua with you."

"But then I'd be a beta, and a beta in an alpha pack doesn't make sense," Stiles says.

"Stiles," Derek intones, his voice deep from growling, "After they'd turned you, they'd make you into an alpha…by helping you kill me."

"Oh." Stiles is surprisingly not freaking out about this fucked up situation. Normally, the thought of being turned into a supernatural creature and being made to kill his super attractive friend-alpha-stalker person would be a little too much, but Stiles is tired, and his cracked rib is pulsing beneath his skin, and his brain is too fucking fatigued for all of this so he settles on mild disturbance rather than flailing indignation. "That's kind of extreme, don't you think?"

Natalie laughs at his question. "It's funny that that sounds extreme to a human boy who took out four alpha werewolves tonight all by his lonesome. So, what do you say?"

Stiles is quiet for a long moment. "Come on, Stiles," Scott pleads, "tell her to get lost." Keeping his eyes on Natalie's, Stiles holds up his hand and feels a surge of pride when all noise ceases behind him. He lowers his palm and places both hands in the pockets of his jeans. "I'm really flattered and all," he tells Natalie, "But I'm gonna have to decline."

The alpha leader pouts cutely and says "That's too bad. You look so sexy when you're all bruised and bloody…I was looking forward to sinking my teeth into you."

Stiles smirks and gives a tiny shrug. "Another place, another time…anything could happen," he says, and he can't believe he's flirting with what is most likely the hottest, leatheriest, most dangerous woman he'll ever meet, but Natalie smiles back and it's only half threatening now. He hates to ruin the moment, but here goes… "Just know that if you do anything to hurt my pack—my dad included—you'll be the next wolf they're looking to replace." He lets his grin widen. "None of us want to see a pretty face like yours end up like Joshua's did, now do we?"

Natalie's smile grows during his threat, her eyes boring into his, and Stiles knows that he shouldn't be turned on by the fact that he can tell she's turned on by that, but he likes a lot of things that he didn't like before. So when she begins to back up toward the road and says "See you around, baby," he throws her a wink before she turns and disappears down the poorly lit street with pack in tow.

Stiles turns around in the newly settled silence, expecting to see angry faces and possibly receive another 'how stupid can you be?' speech, but instead is greeted by seven werewolves who won't meet his eye and two disbelieving humans. Not even Isaac, the most loyal puppy of all, will glance up at him. When the silence stretches for over a minute, Stiles announces "I'm way too tired for this," and marches around the gathered wolves, up his porch steps, then into his house, slamming the door behind him.

Of course, by the time Stiles makes it to his bedroom and flicks on the light, Scott is standing in the middle of the floor. Stiles sighs exasperatedly. "What is it now?" he asks when Scot just stands before him, eyes cast downward. "Why won't you look me in the eyes?"

Scott's eyes flicker up for a second and Stiles steps forward, trying to hold his gaze. "What's up, buddy?"

Scott lets out a breath then straightens up, a small smile on his face. "I don't know, man," he says, "I guess it's just this newfound heroism, making you all attractive."

That earns a smile from Stiles. "Is this your way of propositioning me to make out?" he asks, running with the inside joke. It feels good to joke with his best friend after having been upset with him for so long. But then Scott's not laughing anymore because he's suddenly right in front of Stiles, leaning in to place an open-mouthed kiss on his lips. He is in shock for a moment, but then Scott pulls Stiles's lower lip between his teeth and Stiles's cut opens back up and the sting feels so good that Stiles chases it, pressing closer to Scott's body so that the pressure of the other's torso causes the bruises across his chest and abdomen to ache. It isn't until he remembers that Scott has a girlfriend that he pulls apart from his best friend, cutting Scott off mid-groan and feeling a twinge in his side where he knows his cracked rib to be.

Scott begins to follow his mouth wanting to continue the kiss, but Stiles says "No," and Scott freezes, a guilty look on his flushed face. "Why'd you do that?" Stiles asks, genuinely confused. Scott's not gay, as far as Stiles knows, and Allison is downright lovely. So why would Scott kiss him?

"Sorry…" Scott says sheepishly, "I just—and you were so—and my wolf—" Stiles halts the word vomit by holding up his hand, surprised that that trick worked twice in one night. He says "Forget it; we'll talk about it tomorrow. Right now, I'm going to sleep."

Stiles turns toward his bed and pulls his shirt over his head, hissing when every cut and bruise on his torso lights with pain at the stretching involved. Then he unbuckles his jeans and steps out of those. He turns to see Scott still standing there, obviously reluctant to leave. Stiles sighs. "Do you wanna spend the night?" Scott's dopey smile explodes on his face at Stiles's offer, and then he too is stripping down to his boxers. They've done the sleepover thing plenty of times before, albeit without the kissing prelude.

Stiles climbs into his bed and hums with satisfaction at finally being able to relax for the night. He gets comfy, flat on his back with his hands clasped on the pillow behind his head, and when Scott crawls in beside him, he shuffles all the way over to Stiles's side. "Is this going to be a cuddling thing?" he asks as Scott throws one leg over his and snakes an arm across his abs. "Mmm-hmm," comes the hummed reply from where Scott has burrowed his head between Stiles's head and shoulder. "Okay, Wonderpup."

Stiles falls asleep mere minutes later with Scott's thumb rubbing comfortably over the partially scabbed claw marks on his side and a smile tugging at his lips.