Duke Lahey hosted – every year since coming into his title – a lavish garden party at his country estate. His land was only a few hours' drive out of London, so it was always well attended, not to mention one of the last events in the social calendar.

Guests who were lucky enough to catch an invite to stay the night were always able to return to town and share some form of elusive gossip that their peers will have missed. If there wasn't at least one hasty engagement, the event was considered a failure.

He'd invited the Lords Danger – but it seemed they were off on another crazy bent – Lord Novak simply disappearing into the unknown as quickly as he had arrived. Typical – Isaac had hoped to get this mysterious lord to attend, ensuring that his party was rife with gossip and speculation. So now he'd have the settle on the recent and hasty marriage of Lord and Lady McCall (nee Argent) and the soon expected announcement that his sister was with child.

"I don't really understand why she's not telling everyone." Isaac bemoaned as Matthew spent too long buttoning his shirt sleeves. "She's been casting up her accounts for near a month."

"Perhaps she's concerned." Matthew shrugged, still standing too close for Isaac to really ignore the heat from his body. "Complications can occur."

"I don't think she's worried about complications with the birth." Isaac muttered darkly. No, she was worried about complications with Hale. The man had still not managed to show Stiles the error of his now exclusively female company. Exclusively Erica, in fact, which Isaac wasn't exactly sure he liked.

He was jealous. Again. He hated this petty side of himself, this shameful desire to be the only one loved and in love.

Stiles had been his first male companion – and now the man was (as far as anyone could see) madly in love with his sister. When he'd been thrilled that they'd gotten married, he hadn't thought that his best friend, and former lover, would actually sleep with his sister. Now it was… complicated. And worse for Erica because she was becoming rather used to Stiles attentions.

He frowned, and Matthew stood back, turning to pick up his coat. The first of the guests would soon be arriving. "I liked the green today."

"No, the green would look terrible once you were in the gardens." Matthew said, lifting the blue coat.

"The green, Matthew."

"No, your Grace." His valet said smoothly, ignoring his command.

"God damnit, Matthew, I want the green." He snapped waspishly. The man really did overstep sometimes. He had no idea why he kept him.

"Why in God's name did you decide to wear green?" Erica commented, as they stood in the gardens. "You are fading into the shrubs."

"Oh, how you lift my weary spirits, when I am in need." He replied, hating that she was probably right. Damn Matthew.

"It is my one true calling, brother dear." She replied good naturedly. The party was in full swing, with brightly dressed ladies and peacocking men dressed equally as colourful. Isaac watched as his guests mingled. He would be required to wait at the doors another hour at least, to welcome the stragglers – there was always one or two who simply could not arrive on time. It vexed him greatly.

"Hale seems in good enough spirits." Erica pointed out. Isaac shrugged – the man had been quite happy for his cousin and the young Miss Argent (now Lady McCall) to marry the week previous. Secure in the knowledge of what Gerard Argent thought he would one day get his claws into didn't actually exist. At the wedding, not long after the vows, he'd been overheard telling his cousin that he too, would soon be looking for a wife. The look on Gerard Argents face was beyond all price.

London had reeled. Duke Hale would remarry – and he would be at Duke Lahey's garden party. Every eligible female in London had replied to his invite to attend. Those not invited were rumoured to be weeping into their bed-covers.

So Duke Hale was currently drowning in a sea of silks and pushy mothers. Good God, the man had the patience of a saint. He shuddered delicately – it was well known that Duke Lahey was not looking to marry at this point. He doubted he could have faked a smile for as long as Hale had been.

"Hmmm. I think he is realising that announcing that one is planning to step into the marriage mart at a wedding was not the wisest thing he has ever done." He paused, looking about. "Where is Stiles?"

"Oh, panicking in the drawing room." Erica shrugged smoothly. "I informed him that I was with child on the way here." She had known now for some time. She'd been putting off telling her husband for as long as she could, and felt… unhappy now that she could no longer hide it from him.

"How cruel." He had guessed as much, he assumed this was her admitting it.

"He was expecting it." She said, with a wave of her hand. "I think he already knew, but was waiting for my confirmation."

"You could have advised him in a private setting."

"No, this is better. He cannot panic for long, must attend to others around him – and most importantly – He is not able to fuss." She'd gotten used to his company – she enjoyed their nights together a great deal, for all she worried that he was denying his own nature. Perhaps she was shellfish, avoiding telling him so that he would continue to spend long nights showing her exactly how her body worked.

"You are a cruel woman."

"I am practical." She smiled, nodding as a young lady in pale yellow drifted past. "I would end up shooting him afore the end of the day should he start fussing like a brooding hen." She didn't add that she believed that he would return to his asexual, brotherly love, now he had no need to keep trying.

"You don't know he will."

"Oh, he will." She muttered, darkly. "I have a feeling he will."

Derek Hale, Duke and widower, desperately needed a drink. Anything stronger than the weak wine and lemonades that were being served in the warm summer garden under the large tent. He was sneaking through the house, frantic in his need for the bloody drinks cabinet. If he had to smile at one more simpering little girl with more hair than brains he was going to punch the next person who spoke to him.

The drawing room door was ajar and he pushed it open gingerly. Normally he would simply barge in, but after finding more than one supposedly empty room being used by a young lady whose mother would surely kill her for her actions in the arms of some gentleman, he had learned to be cautious.

Stiles was sitting on the couch, staring blankly into the unlit fire. He didn't even look up when Derek shut the door with a click.

"You seem pre-occupied." He commented, noticing how his voice caused the younger man to start in his seat.

"Oh! Hale." He said, voice startled. "I'm so sorry, I was a hundred miles away in my thoughts."

"No worries, my friend." Derek smiled. He was just glad that the room was not being used for some kind of tryst.

"Erica is with child." Stiles said, eyes fixed back on the fireplace.

His flat tone took Derek completely by shock. He sat heavily down on the small couch where Stiles was seated.

"Ah." Of course, he wasn't a damn idiot. He already knew that Erica and Stiles were trying for a child after his overheard conversation between Isaac and his Valet, so why did he feel like there wasn't enough air left in the room?

"She told me on the way here." Stiles continued in the same emotionless tone.

"Ah." Derek managed. "Congratulations." The words were like ashes in his throat.

"Thank you." Stiles intoned. He didn't sound thrilled at the prospect of a child at all. This, more than anything, snapped Derek out of his stupor. He had assumed that Stiles would have been thrilled. He seemed the type of man whom would be quite happy to have a million little children running about his estate.

"I would have thought you happier."

"So did I." Stiles said. "This is what I wanted. Needed. I need a son."

"This is good news, Stiles." Derek urged, although the words were painful for him. Another thing that was pushing them further apart. "A child is good news." He didn't add that it was what Stiles had in mind when he started bedding his wife, because the whole idea of Stiles with another person, a woman – his wife – was distasteful to him. Which was a terrible thought.

"Yes." Stiles nodded. "Yes. Good." He laughed suddenly. "A baby."

"I assume Erica was pleased."

"I'd think so. Women are generally pleased at the prospect of a child." He paused. "Although I'm not entirely sure Erica is the most maternal person of my acquaintance." That made Derek laugh. No, the girl didn't seem the motherly type. "I'm going to be a father."

Stiles wasn't sure how he'd managed to end up in bed with Derek Hale. The first time, well – he knew how that had happened. And then the few times after that. But this time? In the middle of the damn day, at his brother-in-laws party with a pregnant wife?

How was this his life?

God, the man knew his body like a damn map – knew exactly where to bite and nip, how much pain Stiles could take before it all became too much and then apply the perfect amount of gentle touches that were too much for him to take. They had been sitting on the couch, talking. Stiles had been in a blind panic. Then suddenly he was reaching for Derek and… God, anyone could have walked in. Anyone. He'd never been so reckless in his entire life.

He managed to stifle a moan into the pillow of the bed as his hips rocked into the mattress, trying desperately to get some kind of friction on his cock. His hands were captured over his head as Derek managed to find that magical spot inside of Stiles with every thrust – the sheer size of him both perfection and perdition, he ached and needed more than he'd ever thought possible. God, why did he think he could live without this?

He was desperate, needy, and trying not to be vocal – damn but the house was full of people! – as Derek pushed hard and deep, hips snapping and the obscene sound of flesh on flesh filled the room as well as his body. Derek too, seemed to be aware of their surroundings, his normal gasps and growls tempered by the knowledge that the hallway outside, could at any moment, be filled with people.

He wasn't even bloody naked – which was the worst part. They had been desperate, grabbing and hauling at what they could just enough so that this was possible – Jesus, they both still had their boots on, britches shoved down as much as was needed to get this. To get Derek inside him as soon as possible.

How could Stiles even think that he could go through his life without feeling so damn full?

He groaned again, face shoved hard into the pillow, hands captured over his head – and knew that he needed to make this last as long as he could. Who knows when he'd feel like this again?

People had started to comment that Duke Hale had not been seen since that morning in the garden, and as the hours drew longer, Erica decided that Stiles had taken long enough to digest the news of her pregnancy.

She made her way to the drawing room only to find it deserted, cushions over the floor.

She hurried to their room, wondering if perhaps he had taken a fit of temper like Isaac could be prone to do – or if he had simply decided that he could not deal with the crowds. When she opened the door to their room, it took her a few moments to understand what she was seeing, a few more moments for her to shut the door firmly behind her.

"Good lord, this is not the time for this!" She snapped, eyes not really resting on any one thing. Both of them were in states of undress, although neither of them seemed to have managed to get themselves fully free of their clothing. Her eyes skimmed over the obvious signs of sexual activity – the marks on the sheets, the bruised lips – and on their faces – one shocked, the other guilty. "People are looking for you, Derek!" She hissed. "I understand that I asked you to do this, but couldn't you have picked a better time? Good lord, it's not even three in the afternoon!" She paused. "You look like you've spent the night in a whorehouse, for crying out loud!"

They did. Lips were bruised, skin (what she could see in their various stages of undress) was marked, hair damp and clinging to their foreheads.

"Erica." Stiles managed to say, before they both scrambled for the clothes scattered around them.

She couldn't help but laugh. They looked like schoolboys who had been caught with their hands in the cookie jar – although she had seen where Stiles had his hand and it wasn't quite so innocent.

"Britches up, shirts off." She commanded, walking towards the bed. "Try to wash as much of the sweat off as possible."

"Erica!" Derek snapped. "We are fully able to dress ourselves."

"I'm not leaving, so you might as well do what I tell you." Erica smirked. "You need to do something about your hair as well." She suggested to Stiles. "You look like someone's been fisting their hands in it."

"Jesus, Erica!" Stiles choked, and it was a good sign that she resisted asking wither or not Derek had been doing so. Surely that deserved some kind of reward? She leaned forward and pulled, in once swift moment, the shirt off her husband's back. His spluttering and mad hand gestures were enough to make her laugh. "I'm pregnant with your child, Stiles, stop acting like you've been fully dressed the whole time."

They managed to follow her instructions in the end, although Stiles had required a washcloth for a more intimate use than she had previously thought would have been required. She expected that there was a great deal of preparation and cleaning that no-one ever really thought about in these acts incurring, such as cleaning away the oils used to make penetration easier. She sat on the bed and watched them both closely.

"Which of you is the woman?" She asked, as the question came to her. Derek spluttered, but Stiles, accustomed now to these types of questions gave her a look as he stood over the wash-stand.

"Ask a herd of cows which one is the sheep." He returned, which made her laugh and Derek frown.

"Don't encourage her." He snapped, and Erica saw the glare that Stiles threw his way.

"She's allowed to ask." He retorted. "After what she walked in on."

Erica smirked. "See? I'm the wife, I get to know these things now." She smirked. "My darling husband has told me a great deal about what goes on between two men. I was just wondering how you decide who… gets the best out of the deal." She paused. "How lucky you are."

"How so?" Stiles asked, rubbing the skin around his neck roughly.

"Well, you get the enjoyment of giving, and – unless I am labouring under some false pretence with males – the joy of getting as well." She sighed. "Makes for a more varied experience."

"I never thought of it like that." Stiles shrugged, drying off his hair with a shrug.

"I really don't need to be here for this conversation." Derek ground out. How prudish he was, after what he'd obviously been doing.

"You can retreat to your room, then." Erica shrugged. "Shirtless and dishevelled. I'm sure no one will even notice."

"You are a demon."

"You'll notice I have two males in states of undress and I am asking neither of you to ravish me." Erica pointed out. "Nor screaming in disgust and consternation at finding you inches deep in my husband, so please – refrain from calling me names."

"Erica-" Stiles started, but she cut him off with a wave of her hand, temper rising, fears about her new relationship with Stiles bubbling to the surface.

"I'm tired of being insulted! I married you knowing exactly what you were, and then I get it thrown in my face when I express an interest – or worse, you think I'm somehow worse for liking the things I like!"

"No one thinks the worse of you for liking anything." Stiles soothed, reaching for her and pulling her into a tight embrace. "It's just you are so open and we're not used to that."

Erica liked being held. Especially when the person doing the holding was half naked. She wasn't even sure why she had lost her temper, just that it all seemed so unfair that she was being somehow punished for her own nature and she'd been so understanding with everyone else.

She could feel Derek watching them, wisely keeping his mouth shut. Stiles petted and soothed her for a few more moments before kissing her forehead. "Come on, love – we're missing the party and Isaac'll pout for weeks if he thinks we're not having fun."

When he pulled away, she shrugged. "I suppose you are right." She paused, not caring if Derek overheard or not. "Did you like it… with me as well?"

"Yes." Stiles frowned. "Of course."

"Are you going to stop now I'm pregnant and you don't have to?"

He paused. She didn't even want to look at him, so she studied the pale skin of his chest, hard lines of masculinity that the clothes he wore hid from the world, the moles she had tried to count and never quite managed. She hated that she'd been weak enough to ask, and the longer he waited to respond, the more she resented Derek being there. Which was stupid, because she knew… she knew that Stiles needed him. She'd told Derek to do exactly what he'd just been doing. She just didn't expect to feel so damn jealous.

"I don't know." He said, eventually – and she knew he'd actually really thought about it rather than just trying to sooth her, which made a difference, even if the answer wasn't what she wanted. "I'm not Isaac, Erica, I'm sorry, I'm never going to be able to…" He waved a hand in the air, and then ran it over his face. "Like both equally."

"Fair." She nodded. "I understand that." And she did. She just wasn't sure how to go about getting herself a lover of her own to replace him… well… not without causing a total scandal.

Isaac glanced over at his sister who seemed pale and unhappy. "Why so dull?" He nudged. The garden part of the garden party was almost over, couples and groups moving into the house for refreshments and to prepare for dinner. There would be dancing later, before everyone went home. Someone had fallen in the punch and two couples had rather hastily gotten engaged after being discovered in rather compromising situations. His party was a success.

"I need to get myself a lover." Erica said, voice low enough that it didn't pass his ears, and he was ashamed to admit, those ears burned with embarrassment. His sister!

"Well… I thought your marriage was giving you what you needed?"

"It was, until Hale reminded him what he was missing."

"Ah." There was no doubt that Stiles would not need a lot of reminding. He had never been happy bedding women.

"Ah." His sister agreed. "And I've gotten used to the companionship." Enough emphasis there, he didn't need to question that further. Well… she was his sister. Perhaps some things were deep in the blood.

"Well, single men get overly attached, and married men are never available." Isaac supplied, hoping that it was helpful enough. "Sleeping with the staff is considered bad form, but… most people do it." He paused. "It's convenient."

"Unlike you, brother dear," She sighed, "I can't acquire a handsome Valet to see to my needs."

"I'm actually not sleeping with Matthew." He pointed out. Her gaze was disbelieving. "I'm not." He shrugged. "I'd tell you if I were."

"Why not?" She asked, "He's handsome, you seem to like him, he did make you wear green today, so I thought perhaps you weren't keeping him for his skills at dressing you."

Isaac frowned. "I don't sleep with every member of my staff, my love."

"Just the handsome ones." She quipped. "Do you think I could simply as Stiles to hire a handsome footman or some such thing?"

"Get a tutor." He suggested. "Learn a new skill."

"Flute?" She quipped, before making a gesture that no one could mistake for a musical instrument.

Amongst the gossip of the events at Duke Laheys house party, was the story that he'd laughed so hard he had to sit on the steps of his own garden and send a servant for a drink. No one knew what she'd said, but the next day his sister announced she was with child, so the general consensus was that she'd just informed him of her condition.

I just want to take the time to say two things.

1: Thank you so much for all your support and comments about this story. I'm having a super hard time writing it and the only reason that I'm keeping going is because I have people like you (yes, you!) who remind me that it's okay to have a meltdown as long as you don't let it take over your life.

2: All I've done for the past week is read Supernatural fanfiction and I'm sorry to say I might be taking a little break from the TeenWolf to try my hand at some SPN stuff. I know it is a much larger, more vocal fandom so I'm a little worried about dipping my toes in the ocean of stuff that is out there… Maybe I'll ease my way in with a TW/SPN crossover, as a few people have asked if I'd do that, please let me know what you think of that.

I can see the end of this fic at last, so perhaps a few more chapters and then it'll all work out. For those asking, no Boyd won't be back – I tried to think of a way where he could, but the time this is set in is just…. No. It would have been unlikely that someone in Erica's position would ever have even met him, never mind anything else. I just liked his character and wanted to bring him into the story.