When Stiles finally came down to breakfast the next morning it was no longer morning at all, but early afternoon. Lydia and Finstock were already seated at the small dining table, as was the older woman – Victoria. She was absorbed in some research while eating.

Lydia greeted him with a fond smile and Finstock nodded, but Victoria barely looked up.

Stiles was silent, thinking of Derek. He suddenly felt very homesick.

"Are you feeling well?" Lydia placed a soft hand on Stiles's arm.

"I'm fine. I was just thinking of New York for a moment."

Victoria looked up curiously. "He did not treat you well? The werewolf husband?"

"Not so much, in the end."

"Werewolves," Victoria replied, not disguising her disgust. "Difficult creatures. What is left is all violence and emotion. It is a wonder you Americans have integrated them at all."

Stiles shrugged. "I was under the impression that vampires were more difficult."

"Really?"

Stiles tried to figure out how to word it. "You know how they get – all condescending and holier-than-thou." He paused. "Or maybe you don't, do you?"

"Hmm, I should have thought werewolves were more of an issue. With all the running around in the army and marrying normal people."

"Well, my particular werewolf did turn out difficult. But, to be fair, he was just fine up until the end." Stiles was painfully conscious that "fine" was an understatement. Derek had been the perfect husband in his massive grumpy way: smart, protective, tender, except when it wasn't necessary, and then rough when he needed to be (and Stiles wanted him to be). He shivered slightly at the memories. Derek was loud and gruff and slightly overworked, but he had loved him. Or at least, Stiles had thought he did. It had taken Stiles a long time to believe that he was worth all the affection Derek had given him and he thought it might have taken Derek just as long to believe Stiles loved him as well – maybe he still didn't truly believe it. To have it stolen away quickly was that much crueler.

"Isn't the end result what counts?" Lydia cocked her head. She had taken Stiles's side fiercely when Derek kicked him out.

Stiles shrugged.

"You can't forgive him, can you?" Lydia seemed ready to reprimand him.

Victoria glanced up. "Cast you out, did he? Well, loathe as I am to see his point of view, you did have a child with someone else."

"I did not cheat on him!" Stiles yelled. He was getting very tired of all of these accusations. Even Victoria seemed shocked into silence. "Derek said the child smelled like its parents were me and a vampire. Both of us were kidnapped around the time this child would have been conceived and the child was rescued from an offshoot of the very same group of scientists that did the kidnapping. I've done the calculations. I don't know what they did to us, but I did not cheat on my husband. If this child is mine – fine. But he is not mine because of some indiscretion!"

Stiles was flushed. Lydia looked more serious.

Finstock was trying to hold in laughter. "Indiscretion? Really Stiles? What are you, in a romance novel?"

Stiles rolled his eyes, but Finstock's words had made him calm down slightly.

Victoria looked slightly more calculating, though. "So, you think they did something when they kidnapped you. Did you say you knew the vampire who may be the mother? Did she carry the child?"

Stiles shook his head. "I see her constantly, but not enough to keep ahold of her for nine months to let her carry a child. I didn't even know vampire women could carry a child."

"I spent all morning with research. Everything I've read would agree with you. I've never even heard of a vampire or werewolf having a child, much less a female, who would need to be in contact with a preternatural for the entire term to carry it. But there are older records."

"Records kept by vampires?" Stiles theorized, thinking of the Vampire Edicts.

"Records kept by Templars."

Finstock winced. Stiles glanced at him, but Finstock did not look up.

"You think they may have some idea as to how this is possible?"

"If this has happened before, they will have records of it."

Stiles had grand visions of marching into Derek's office and slamming down proof of his innocence – of making him eat his words.

"It is quite remarkable. Until last night, I would have sworn that vampires and werewolves could only breed through metamorphosis. Your preternatural touch, it does not cancel out the fact that they have mostly died. It turns them mortal – it gives them more life – but not human."

Stiles shrugged, unsure as to where she was going with this.

"I have rethought this. There is one line of evidence to think about. Both vampires and werewolves still engage in sexual activities."

Stiles blushed. Finstock blushed. Even Victoria blushed slightly. Stiles did not want to discuss his sex life with anyone at this table and it didn't seem that they particularly wanted to discuss it with him. Well, Lydia seemed unperturbed.

"There has to be a reason the procreative urges aren't eliminated postmetamorphosis. Yet, nothing I could find adequately addressed this. If they were really undead, werewolves should no longer have a need for that function. Vampires, in particular, who find it more difficult, would probably eliminate it. But they do not."

Stiles nodded.

"It is a wonder, though, that you let this child leave you. From what I have heard, preternaturals are very drawn to each other. If nothing else, the Templar breeding program proved this true."

Stiles looked at her oddly. He had shared a room with a preternatural mummy once; he knew the odd feeling that he need to be close to the body and it was dead. He couldn't imagine what it would feel like to be around one that was alive. His mother had died when he was a baby, so he did not know what it felt like with her.

"This may not be an ordinary preternatural child. This one has a vampire mother. This is something different. It must be." Lydia said. She turned to look at Stiles. "It is a safe bet that the vampires aren't trying to kill him and you simply because there is another preternatural."

Victoria was absorbed in some papers again, but then Lydia's words seemed to sink in.

"Vampires trying to kill him? Did you say they were trying to kill him? That thing, sitting there at my table, in my house?"

Lydia shrugged. "Well, yes. Or at least capture him and interrogate him."

"But that means they will be coming. They will be following him. Here! Vampires! I hate vampires! You must get out. You must all leave now. Go to the Templars. They will take care of you, if only because the vampires are after you."

It took merely minutes for them to grab their things and head out the door. Finstock, at least, did not seem at all reluctant to leave.