A/N~ Flame to a Blaze-So this is the second book in Spark to a Flame, Mary is establishing herself in Beacon Hills. Stiles is about to learn more about being a Spark, in one week than most learn in several months. As for more read for yourselves and please remember to review. I love reviews. Only one chapter this week because of the New Year. Hope everyone is having a Great Holiday Season! ~A
Chapter 7
To say that John Stilinski was shocked to find Mary in his kitchen when he got home was an understatement. To find her fixing dinner wasn't what he had hoped for that afternoon. He had hoped to come home and have a discussion with his son.
The fact that Stiles had an entire life in the supernatural for months before the Sheriff had ever found out. None of it had ever sat well with the man. His own involvement with the things that "go bump in the night" had evolved after that in the hopes of protecting his son and the town folk from it.
Melissa McCall had none too politely informed him that he was a horses ass and that it was a nice effort but effectively closing the barn door after the cows and everything else had escaped. So this evening was meant to be a pre-emptive strike to keep Stiles from getting even more involved in the supernatural.
He would put his foot down and demand that Stiles not get involved with Mary Spenser, or learning how to do magic. That was the plan right up until he walked into the kitchen and found her at the stove stirring something that smelled spicy and delicious.
An icy cold beer sat on the table already opened, the woman put the spoon down and turned to face him. She crossed her arms and said, "Have a seat and a drink Sheriff," then added helpfully, "if you can hold your liquor, that is. I wouldn't want it said I took advantage."
"Exactly how would you be taking advantage Ms. Spenser?"
"I plan on explaining the facts of life to you Sheriff. This life and the supernatural one your son and his friends are leading. The one that keeps the non-supernatural's of this town and the surrounding countryside alive." she said indicating the chair and cold drink. "Then I plan to negotiate for you to understand why the future survival of everyone in this town depends on Stiles and his friends staying alive and as strong and well-adjusted as possible."
"Are you saying my sons not well-adjusted?" Stilinski said harshly.
"Considering the things he's seen and gone through, I'd say he's better adjusted than he should be." she said and the sheriff finally sat down at the table.
He tilted the beer bottle in her direction and said, "Thanks," before taking a deep swallow of the beer.
"Which means he's lying," she said boldly, "and I didn't give you credit for it." The beer coming spewing back out of his mouth was a little petty but gratifying none the less.
"What?" he managed to get out in between his coughing to clear is throat. Mary just sighed and decided to take mercy on him. After a final stir of the pot, she turned the food down and sat down across from him at the table.
"Mr. Stilinski," the woman said with a heavy sigh, "your son needs you. More than you will ever know. To the point that he does crazy things. Like going to search for dead bodies in the middle of the night to help you with your cases so you don't work late hours. To the point he has you on a strict diet and has talked pretty much every waitress and short order cook in this town into telling him when you cheat on said diet."
The Sheriff took another swig of the beer and she said, "He takes the alcohol you buy and drinks it himself so you can't because he's worried about your drinking." the man gave a sour look at the woman and started to interrupt and talk right over him, "Your son loves you he also loved his mother and misses her too. You think because he was younger he doesn't have the same pain as you do?"
"He and I both know that something bad is coming. Let's face it, it's Beacon Hills, and the people who settled here had a good reason for calling it that. He needs to train and he knows it and with or without your permission he will do what needs to be done. He is your son after all."
"Exactly he is my son, not yours, I'm trying to keep him safe." the Sheriff said pushing the empty bottle away from himself on the table.
With a flick of her fingers Mary sent the bottle flying through the air to land in the recycling bin and replied, "John, an untrained Spark is a danger magnet. Even people without any magic in them will either love him or hate him on sight and not know why. You think that Stiles will be safer without the training? Safer against the hunters, the wolves, the Kanima, the Darach, Berserkers, Oni, Nogitsune and who knows what? Really? You think he'd want you, the person he cares the most about in the world to stand between him and the bad things in the world? Things that you have no concept exist let alone how to deal with?"
"A bullet to the head, usually works," the Sheriff said harshly.
"Really? Maybe you should have tried that on the Nogitsune," she replied plainly.
"He's just a kid…" the father said helplessly.
"Wrong, he grew up a long time ago, John. Too bad you never did." the brunette said sharply before standing up and going back to the stove
He heard her muttering and at first thought she was angry with him and muttering to herself. Until he tuned in to what she was saying and realized she seemed to be having a one-sided conversation with Stiles. This was confirmed when his son, looking decidedly rumpled came downstairs rubbing his eyes. He came over to his dad and gave him a one armed hug, before heading to the stove.
He didn't hug her but he seemed comfortable getting into her personal space as he looked over her shoulder at the stew she was stirring. He reached into a drawer and drew out a spoon and handed it to her as he began talking about an unbinding ritual and what they would need to break the binding. She dipped the spoon into the stew and gave some to Stiles, with the requisite, "Careful it's hot," thrown in for good measure.
The boy nodded as he turned to face his father he leaned against the stove as he tasted the food. "Yum," he commented before tossing the spoon in the sink. He asked, "So where can we find the angelica root?"
"Stiles," his father called. His son looked up at him and there was a determination in his eyes that the sheriff had seen many times before. "Damn, you are just as stubborn as your mother was."
The teen snorted and rubbed the back of his neck as he said, "Funny she said the same thing about you." Father and son just smiled a little sadly at each other.
When Mary was sure that the pair weren't going to argue, she heaved a mental sigh of relief and said, "if there are any stores that cater to the Spanish speaking residents we should be able to find some Angelica there. But we eat now and stop worrying about such things." She said turning the food to warm and taking the bread out of the oven.
