"A Life at the Party" or "How Peter Shows He Cares"
"Explain to me how going to this little teenage party is supposed to help you find this Alpha Pack you've been worried about or the evil druid you claim is going to start killing virgins any minute now."
Peter didn't sound angry or even that scary; his voice was calm and reasonable. It was the claws that slipped out and were idly picking at the top of his desk where the inlayed leather met the cherry wood that had Stiles tensing up and nervous.
"It was at a party back in my reality that she first started to target her victims. Maybe I'll get lucky and spot her. I know what she looks like, both her 'hot for teacher' look and her 'Freddy Kruger' face."
Peter leaned back in his chair the supple leather didn't creak or groan, just made a warm sigh as his skin ran across the arms. "Is that safe for you? You did say she went after virgins for her first knot. I would hate to lose you as a pack member quite so soon. Not that I'm opposed to using you as bait but if that is the case then there needs to be a hook as well."
Stiles gaped like a landed fish for a moment. He couldn't decide whether he was more offended at being tagged as a virgin by Peter or the fact that the alpha was so willing to dangle him as bait at his earliest convenience.
Peter took in Stiles' sputtering reaction with a snide grin. "Go to your little party but I want you to keep you phone on you at all times. If there is the slightest hint of the Alpha Pack or this durach I want you to call me."
Stiles had a split second to enjoy the idea that Peter was worried about him, a warm tug in his chest, before the alpha added, "I wouldn't want your death to be a waste."
"Uh…thanks," Stiles deadpanned. Peter tilted his head and looked at him, then let his gaze slide over Stiles shoulder to look behind him. His grin grew into a real smile that almost reached his eyes.
Turning Stiles found himself face to face with Derek. "Maybe I should go with you."
"As much as I'd love to be seen with you at a party," Stiles let Derek see the appreciation in his eyes as he looked over the older man's form. "But you are a little too old to be seen at a teenage party. I need to be able to blend with the rest of the kids there. You don't blend." Derek ducked his head, ears turning pink at their tips.
Peter made a pained sound. "Could you two do that someplace else, preferably out of my sight and hearing?" Derek blushed further and reached out to grab Stiles by the hand, practically dragging him out of Peter's office.
"Are you sure going to this party is a good idea? You told us that the girl, the one that was your friend, was grabbed from her own house at a similar party."
"She was alone. I'll make sure I'm with someone at all times so I should be safe. I'll make sure I don't broadcast me virgin status to the world as well, so that should help keep me safe." Spinning to stop Derek with a hand to his chest, a wild stray thought entering his head, Stiles asked. "You can't smell it on me or something, can you? My virgin-ness?"
Derek's eyes widened and sparkled before a chuckle escaped. He didn't even try to stop it, letting his soft laughter fill the short hallway between Peter's office and the living room. Visibly catching his breath, Derek replied, "No, that's not something that has a scent."
"It's not funny," Stiles grumbled as he headed for his room to change into something presentable for the party. He didn't have too many outfits to choose from. Peter had sent his scarily efficient beta out to get him some extra cloths but most of them were just button up shirts and jeans.
Finally he picked a short sleeved, dark rust colored shirt with a pair of dark jeans. The heated look Derek shot him as he exited the hallway bathroom let him know that he had made the right decision. Pulling his shoes on, Stiles had just enough time to ruffle his hair in the mirror before the sound of a horn outside sent him galloping down the stairs.
With a soft smile in Derek direction and a cold shoulder to Peter's call of "try not to die" Stiles slid out the front door and hurried to Scott's car. Even in this reality it was his mother's beat up car. All the dints and bangs were the same. It was strange how something were stayed the same no matter what the reality.
Much to Scott's embarrassment, they did not arrive fashionable late but were instead almost the first people there. Stiles' heart let out a painful double thump at the sight of Heather. It was so good to see her alive. She was plastered against a rangy teen with dirty blond hair and a crooked smile. "They've been best friends since birth," Scott said as he noticed Stiles' interest. "They started dating in middle school and haven't been apart since."
Watching the way Heather's boyfriend ran his hand down her ass, he knew he didn't have to worry about her being a virgin sacrifice in this reality.
Stiles grabbed a drink and found a semi-quiet corner where he could watch eerie versions of the people he knew intermingle and talk. He was so intent on watching people arrive that he didn't even notice he had company until the soft clearing of a throat drew his attention.
Erica shifted her weight backwards as he glanced over his shoulder at her, clearly uneasy. She flashed a shy smile at him from under her lashes before looking back down at the carpet. "Hi."
Stiles remembered suddenly that Erica had mentioned having a crush on him before becoming a werewolf. Looking at her now, her hair straightened and braided down one side, the make-up that was just a little too heavy, and clothing that she was clearly uncomfortable in and he knew that she was trying to get his attention.
"Hi, Erica." He answered with his brightest smile. "It's good to see you." The pleasure of seeing her alive, the guilt of not being able to save her in his own world, and the knowledge that he was most likely giving her false hopes since he wasn't planning on staying here longer than he had to, made his stomach roll and twist momentarily.
Erica soon opened up under Stiles' gentle presence and started to chat as more and more people joined the party. He was unsurprised to find she had a ready wit and spot-on commentary on the people that mostly ignored her each day.
Nodding toward Scott, circling Allison's group, she said sadly, "He's so in love with her but ever since she joined Lydia and Jackson's clique he hasn't had a chance. Allison was really sweet the first couple of weeks when she first came to Beacon Hills. It's too bad, really."
"What happened?" Stiles asked knowing that his Allison was still mostly sweet but with a hidden iron core.
"Her father and aunt were killed. Now she lives with her mother and grandfather. It was really weird for a while. She stopped coming to school for a couple of weeks and then when she got back she was…" Erica paused and shrugged. "She was different, darker, and not as friendly."
Stiles didn't doubt it for a minute. Left alone with her crazy mother and slaughter happy grand-pa, he was sure that Allison was no longer the sweet girl he knew in his world.
He turned away to look for Scott, finding him lurking near Allison with sad eyes, before looking back to find Matt with his arm draped over her shoulders while he stole a sip of her cola.
Responding to his shocked gasp, Erica continued her play-by-play of the relationships that flourished at Beacon Hills. "Matt and Allison have been dating for about six months. He's the photographer for the yearbook so you can guess who will have the most pictures in the yearbook this year."
It felt weird watching Matt. Without Jackson being bitten and turning into the Kanima there was no fear of the teen turning into a revenge fueled killing machine but knowing what he was capable of and watching him cuddle with a girl Stiles considered his friend was more than a little strange.
There was still a creepy quality to Matt's interactions with Allison; the way he watched her when she was not by his side, the side glances at the people that dared talk or touch her, and the possessive way he placed his hand on her back made Stiles cringe. He didn't understand how Allison could be so obvious to his overly possessive actions.
In Jackson's presence, Lydia was still behaving like a brainless fashion model, all glossy lipstick and perfect hair. She hung on every word that came out of the lacrosse captain's mouth while pressed against his side. Stiles missed his Lydia, the strong person she had become in the aftermath of Jackson's turning and the trails she had gone through while discovering her true nature. This Lydia was a pale comparison and it saddened him to see her like this when he knew her potential.
"I heard you stood up to him today." Erica nodded at Jackson. "That was brave of you. He can be really mean if you don't belong in his little, perfect group." The way her voice tightened, losing all its emotion, let Stiles know that she had been a target of Jackson in the past and it had left lasting scars.
"Well, I'm not going to worry about assholes tonight. Not when I have new friends and a pretty girl by my side." Erica looked at him in surprise, a twinkle of hope in her eyes, and Stiles suddenly felt like shit for leading her on. He wasn't trying to deceive her, he just wanted to be nice to her because she had gone through so much in her short life, that and the fact that he couldn't forget his own Erica's death.
"Can I get you a drink?" At her shy nod he headed for the kitchen which had a small mountain of red plastic cups and a wide variety of drinks. Knowing Erica's favorite soda, Stiles scooped up a cup full of ice and poured her a soda before grabbing a can for himself.
Returning just a few minutes later he was surprised to see that Erica had disappeared from their small, quiet corner. Thinking she had gone to the bathroom to freshen up he waited, drinks in hand for her to return. It wasn't until the third song started to play that he wondered what was taking her so long. Placing the drinks on a side table so that he could look for her, Stiles noticed a shimmer of umber and gold on the floor. Lifting it up to the light he stared at the delicate wings in horror.
Dialing Peter's number as he ran down the road, clutching the butterfly in his fist; Stiles prayed that they could find this Erica in time.