Thank you to all of those who were kind enough to leave reviews. To my silent readers, I hope you guys can leave me some encouragement as well. Almost thirty chapters deep, and some motivation is what I need! My story is not in sync with the teen wolf timeline, so please don't worry, I sort of kind of know what i'm doing.
Loved writing this chapter, I think you guys will love it too.
The soft white had encompassed her vision in delight, so much so that Nikita didn't want to move, she wished to lay here just a little longer and ignore the annoying sound infiltrating her eardrums. When comfort had enveloped her, there was no leaving, not a chance. Nikita's pillow pressed hard against her face, perhaps this would get Danny to leave her alone, the two in the midst of their childlike tantrums. No such luck, he was jumping up and down on her bed, the weight of him threatening to break it, squawking her name like a cracked out parrot.
It was seven P.M and she was already in her pajamas, and it drove Danny insane.
"GET UP NIKITA! I AM NOT LETTING YOU STAY HOME ON A SATURDAY NIGHT! We're going dancing!"
He yanked the comforter off of her and immediately her body reacted to the cold, her legs pulling to her chest in order to keep warm. Danny grabbed at her ankles to drag her out of bed. Upon the feel of the spikey hair -five days post shave and still going strong- his hands recoiled like it had been touched by a flame. Danny had to think of a new game plan now if he wanted her to move. She let out a muffled evil cackle from beneath her pillow, thinking of her stubbly hair as her body's natural defense system. It did very little to deter Danny from his mission, for he was much more hairy than her. And he was back to yanking her out of bed.
"Noooooooo." She groaned out in protest, trying to grab her head board.
"We are not missing Fire and Ice night at Jungle Club, Nikita! It's better than Christmas, and don't you dare argue with me! It's better than Halloween!" Danny hadn't given up, even with Nikita being nothing short of a stubborn mule. And when she said no, she meant no.
Nikita wasn't trying to hide from the world tonight, she was just...casually avoiding it by the slightest. She had gone out last night to the Lacrosse game anyways, didn't that count for something? The idea of doing something social the next night sounded so damn exhausting. Yes she was trying to open herself up to happier outcomes and possibilities, trying to live her life and move on. But it had to be done at her own pace.
Sometimes a girl just wants to wallow in the comfort and safety of her bed, and binge watch dark gritty shows until Netflix asks her if she's alive or consumed into monotony, and perhaps die there; and maybe the pet cat she didn't own yet would eat her face. That was a thing cats did to their dead owners...right?
She finally removed the pillow and raised herself to her elbows, peering at her friend. He sat with his hand under his chin with sagged shoulders. "I was dumped by Evan a few days ago. So now i'm joining the scorned broken hearts club, population you, me, and Lydia."
Now he was tugging at her heartstrings, it was weird seeing him like this. In fact, she had never seen him like this. Danny was a solid friend who would never use guilt to get something out of Nikita, he must have actually been upset. Her fingers brushed through her messy wavy chestnut hair, trying to tame the frizziness as best she could. Resting on her desk was a bottle of red glitter, and an electric blue wig, fire or ice. Danny had asked her to pick one of the themes when he came in.
"I'll take the wig." Nikita finally chiming in to answer him, to this Danny turned around to give her a toothy grin.
"You'll also need this." Danny reached into the back pocket of his jeans to throw a card before Nikita.
She picked it up. It was a decently made fake ID, a little flimsy though. On it was a picture of a woman who hardly bore any resemblance to Nikita aside from the strong distinguishable eyebrows. Her name read Belinda Sue Gladwell and Nikita glowered at the sound of it, knowing all too well Danny had picked it out. She was 5'4 and twenty-three years old.
"You like it?" Danny cooing and laying his head into her lap. "I picked it out for you, and Matt came through with the photoshop skills."
Nikita was thoroughly impressed with the lengths Matt had gone through, even adding the holographic stamp to the card to make it look like a real ID.
Danny's smile grew into one a lit with excitement. "Can't wait to go clubbing with you, Belinda."
- Stiles' pov-
" I was going to draw the line if I had to give him CPR. There's no way in hell I was going to have my lips touch Derek Hale's!" Stiles' angry words hardly carried over the sound of the wind beating against him from the open car window.
He could easily recall every detail of last night. The Kanima, Erica, Derek, the pool. Derek had almost lost his life drowning if it weren't for Stiles being there, holding him afloat.
Stiles drove with one hand on the steering wheel the other holding the back of Scott's T-shirt, making sure his best friend didn't tumble out the window. Scott was sniffing the night air, trying to pick up the Kanima's scent. It was only moments ago when Scott was sure he had picked it up, but the wind had shifted directions. Stiles wasn't sure what the Kanima could possibly smell like, the more he thought about it, the less he wanted to know. Neither had really discussed what they would do once they had found the Kanima, and information seemed so scarce, the two had dove into a bad idea.
The Beta looked back at Stiles, his eyes burning golden, searching for unattainable answers. They were both so close to grasping a hold of this mystery, but time and time again it kept slipping from the cracks of their fingers.
"So we know for a fact that the Kanima can't swim."
Stiles nodded his head, remembering how the creatures slapped the surface of the water in frustration. "It was scared of the water. And the way it looked at us, you saw it Scott, it's like it knew us…I think it could actually be someone we know."
There was a hint of recognition behind its cold slitted reptilian eyes, there was no denying it. It's own body hesitated, like the person inside was fighting back from doing any damage, from hurting people.
"I'm thinking of someone tall." Stiles carried on. "Like really tall. Maybe popular and loved by the student population?" Scott was either not getting where Stiles was going with this, or much too preoccupied with tracking down a scent.
"I don't know. Perhaps a certain wrestler who...you know...admitted that water isn't his thing?" Stiles coughed into his hand "hrmphJonesy!"
Scott seated himself back and shot a remorseful glance towards Stiles, upon the glance Stiles' fingers tightened over the steering wheel, a rabid twitch taking over his left eye. He could feel that one vein pulsating madly beneath the thin skin. "What? What is it? Why are you looking at me like Ryan Gills-ling died again?"
"Allison thinks it's Nikita." Scott was watching him with careful bright eyes, waiting for a 'Stiles like outlandish reaction.
But Stiles wasn't going to give it to him. No, he was going to be calm and mature about this, because he had broken up with Nikita in order to keep her out of this dreaded dangerous life he lived. There was no reason for him to panic over the fact that this assumption - that Nikita was a blood thirsty lizard- was undoing what he had just done - broken up with Nikita to keep her out of the Supernatural world; because this assumption alone pinned her straight to the clusterfuck filled board of Supernatural fuckery.
"WHAT!?" Stiles finally screamed out, the Jeep swerving side to side, nearly cutting off the car to the left of them. "Are you kidding me, Scott!? You think it's Niki!?"
"I didn't say I thought it was her, all I said was that Allison-"
"WHY!?" Stiles demanded. This had to be some sort of joke, Allison must have been going mad.
Scott took a moment to breathe, being put on the spot wasn't really his thing. "Remember Deaton's book? It said that the Kanima was a lonely creature looking for a friend."
"SO!?" Stiles garnering honks behind him every time he swerved out of anger.
"Look i'm just saying there's more probable reason Nikita is the Kanima. She did go missing for five night and no one knows where she went or what she did while she was gone. How does someone just vanish and fall off the grid? And during the game last night she vanished for some time. You really think Jonesy, the nicest person we've ever met, could be a killer?"
"Hmm I wonder if that's what that blonde girl running naked down the stairs thought of Patrick Bateman seconds before he killed her by dropping his chainsaw on her…Such a nice guy. Wow, what a stand up dude."
"Let's not compare him to American Psycho." Scott turning to face the window every once in a while in order to catch a scent.
"You know Christian Bale based that performance on Tom Cruise? Another supposed-" Stiles taking his hands off the wheel to make air quotes "nice guy. The same nice guy who had his girlfriend scrub toilets with a toothbrush and has a tooth in the middle of his face. A TOOTH IN THE MIDDLE OF HIS FACE! So let's not dismiss Jonesy as a suspect because he seems like a nice guy."
Scott buried his face into his hands and let out a long groan, recalling every moment of the other night. It seemed to replay in his head even when he closed his eyes. " Fine, we keep Jonesy as a suspect."
Stiles nodding, agreeing. This had nothing and everything to do with his personal gripe against Jonesy. Something was not right with him. There was no evidence against Jonesy, other than he didn't like water. But Stiles would find something eventually, and when he did, he would be the one to exploit Jonesy for what he really was, a bloodthirsty monster.
The way it looked at its own reflection, I don't think it understands what it is or what it's doing..." Scott thinking out loud. "Maybe it's helpless, maybe we-"
The Beta shot in his seat, his head perked up as a peculiar and familiar scent he had been searching for hooked right into his senses.
"Take a right! TAKE A RIGHT!"
Both boys let out high pitched screams as Stiles made a sharp right, almost tilting the box shaped Jeep in the process. The car pulled up to the Jungle Club, a notorious gay club, and perhaps the only club in Beacon Hills. Stiles shot Scott a sheepish look.
"Something you wanna tell me? Ay Scotty boy?" Stiles giving his friend a nudge and a wink wink.
Scott didn't answer, his eyes -now back to their dark brown- scanned the crowd gathered by the entrance; desperately seeking for a clue amongst the people. The scent had lead them here, but there was no sign of a homicidal lizard or anyone being in distress. Far from it actually, there was merriment and and eclectic energy all around. Stiles watched a herd of grown men run across the parking lot in high heels wearing red metallic hot pants. Red and blue seemed to be the theme of the night, and they were both dressed rather plainly in their flannels...but it would have to do.
"Alright, well we're here. So let's just check it out."
Scott only nodded, caught in his hypervigilant ways. "We just need to figure out a way around the bouncers."
-Derek's POV-
He needed to get out of the damn subway car.
It was already cramped, smelled of a public bathroom, and his betas had turned it into some sort of club house for themselves. It was nice to be out, free of the cramped confines. While Derek didn't care for social interaction from strangers, he much preferred it over the hormonal crazed teenagers he had kept in his company lately.
Derek found himself at a bar in the center of the city. It looked like a nice gastropub from the outside. Not too decent on the inside, where cracked peanut shells littered the once white linoleum floors. It was a Saturday night, but this place was far from busy. But he liked it that way.
A few men were playing a game of pool in the back filling the room with their rowdy laughter, some huddled in the furthest booth to talk and share stories amongst themselves. Derek seated himself right at the bar, on one of the high wooden stools. The rusted bolts that held the seat together creaked beneath his weight. From the corner of his eye he spotted a patron who sat a few stools from him, the bartender shamelessly flirting with him. She was leaning over the bar, cleaning the same spot before the customer, the deep maroon lace of her bra sticking out from the low neckline she wore. The patron seemed to care very little for the desperate display, or perhaps this was his game in getting her to come undone, doing an impressively solid job at keeping his eyes on her rather than her body. She was acting dangerously coy with him now, chewing on her gum and twirling it around her finger. The unmistakable and sweet scent of arousal wafting off of her.
Derek cleared his throat to get the bartender's attention, he just wanted a damn lager, or some local beer. The patron and the Bartender started to make out as if Derek were just a ghost to them, not worth an ounce of their time. It felt like minutes had passed, Derek couldn't stare, it would be considered creepy, he already had a high track record for being labeled as creepy.
Hearing their wet sucking and kissing sounds was disgusting, and his patience was starting to wear thin. She had let out a few soft moans in the midst of kissing. Derek finally dared himself and snuck a quick look to see the Patron's hands roaming freely beneath her shirt. Derek turned around to glance over his shoulder at the other bar-goers, but none of them seemed to notice or care. Was he the only one seeing this? they were two seconds away from having sex on the bar top. She finally pulled away breathless, her chest rising and falling with excitement. It was then she seemed to have notice Derek's presence, startled to see him there.
"Oh gosh! You're so quiet!" She let out a stiff laugh, her hand pressed over her heart to steady it.
"Can I get you something to drink?" The Bartender asked while trying to fix her smeared lipstick with the edge of her thumb. Derek's eyes had gone to her chest to see she was now without a bra, and it must have been particularly cold in here. His eyes danced up back to hers, hoping she didn't notice his unwanted glare. Now wasn't the time to think on how long it had been since anyone had shared his bed; in all honesty he much preferred a real bed than female company.
"Give me whatever's on tap." Derek ordered, his voice dangerously monotone to let her know he wasn't impressed with her lack of professionalism. And his eyebrows danced up giving her a forced enthusiastic smile. "Surprise me."
She had caught Derek's curious gaze on her chest, garnering her to look down as well. It was now she had noticed that her bra -which she was showing off not too long ago- had gone missing.
The patron laughed, putting both his hands up in surrender, wiggling his fingers. Her maroon bra dangled freely off his right thumb like a proud flag. Derek... reluctantly impressed by the magic trick.
"Asshole!" She shrieked, grabbing her bra and slapping his arm, then she stormed off to the kitchen to adjust herself. Derek could have slammed his face down into the bar top out of frustration, it would take forever to get a damn drink now.
The Alpha finally gave in and fully glanced at the stranger sitting at the bar with him. He must have been around Derek's age, hair a peculiar shade between light brown and blonde, a shade rarely seen on people. Three perfect strands fell before his bright eyes, but the rest of his hair was neat. His cleanly shaven jaw sharpened and relaxed as he chewed on the gum that was in the bartender's mouth only minutes ago. It took Derek a minute, but he recognized who it was. It was that imbecile with the white Maserati from a while back at the gas station, the one who was trying to pry into his life. Derek didn't recognize him without the black leather jacket and sunglasses. Whoever he was, he had addressed Derek by his full name, knew him right away like he had known him all along. Yet Derek was in the dark when it came to this kid, who the hell was he, and why such high animosity towards him?
The Alpha was still staring unabashedly when the stranger turned fully to look at him, giving him a disdained up and down glare, like the mere presence of Derek insulted him. "Like what you see?" That gruff deep voice already getting beneath Derek's skin.
It was like the fog in his brain had cleared when Derek finally figured out who he was. And he let out a chuckle, so rambunctious it wiped the stupid grin off the patron's face. There was nothing more satisfying than watching that grin falter.
Derek couldn't believe who was in front of him.
"Alvin? You're that nerdy ass kid, Alvin, aren't you." His lips pulled tight into a smile, high cheeks causing his eyes to squint.
"It's actually Alex…" Alex shooting a scathed look akin to molten lava melting human flesh off the bones, Derek was starting to annoy him now.
"Whatever, Alvin." Derek chuckled. "Didn't recognize you without your polo shirts and rolling backpack."
"Chupame la pija" Alex muttered into his whiskey cup, but it was loud enough for Derek to hear. The Alpha only understood basic high school level Spanish, so he went on to ignore Alex anyways.
Derek went silent only to recall what Alex was like in high school. He wasn't this angry from what he recalled, Alex was shy and quiet, constantly kept to himself, and would spend lunches studying in the library. Sometimes Derek would watch from the outdoor basketball court as Alex and his nerd friends from Physics club would build weird little rockets on the school lawn. And while Alex was the captain of the wrestling team, an impressive feat no one would have expected of him, people didn't care for it as a sport; it was all about basketball.
His face once used to be round instead of the sharp slants he wore so well, for when Derek had last seen Alex, his youthful baby fat had yet to melt away. His hair used to be brighter, blonder, it must have darkened throughout the years. Alex was three years younger than Derek, he was known for being incredibly smart and skipping eighth grade. That was all Derek knew of Alex Jones, Alex was hardly a blip on his radar, Derek far too popular to care for the likes of him.
Derek absolutely hated every little thing about Alex Jones with every fiber of his being. From the way he walked, full of fake confidence and arrogance. The stupid smirk he constantly wore, like he knew a joke Derek had no part of. The stupid leather jacket he wore the last time they interacted? Leather jackets were his thing. The scrawny little science loner he remembered from high school finally figured how to use the thing between his legs and suddenly thought himself to be a man.
He would always be a loser to Derek.
"Ever make it to NASA, Alex?" It was Derek's turn to wear a sheepish grin. It didn't dare falter even when Alex turned to look to him, his facial expression mirroring that of Derek's.
"Ever make it to the NBA, Derek?
Derek's fingers curled tightly, every inch of him fighting back from wrapping them around Alex's throat and squeezing the air out of him. He could splinter Alex's bones like it were a toothpick, crack his nose over the countertop in a blink, rip that sharp tongue out with his claws.
The bartender came back, the mug of beer poured for Derek hit the countertop with enough force to slosh the golden liquid over, her dark eyes burning holes into Alex. She was mad about the bra trick from earlier, and it pleased Derek to know someone else here couldn't stand Alex. His lips met the creamy foam of his beer and Derek was relishing the bitter orange taste, his eyes carefully watching her as she went to turn on the T.V.
Detective Hirst appeared on screen for a press briefing. Derek had expected this much, with all the killings going on. Her face was such an unwelcome sight that his stomach soured just at the sight of it. She would be considered beautiful with her raven glossy hair, high high cheek bones, and freckled face. After what she had done to Nikita, Derek couldn't see her as nothing but a vulture, going after defenseless prey to tear them apart before the media, in hopes of public or even national recognition.
"Change the station." Derek demanded darkly, the bartender let out a mocking snort of a laugh and went to wait on the other tables.
Alex's right hand flapped too closely to Derek, in order to shut him up. " Stop 's fine as hell."
Derek rolled his eyes. "She's probably fifteen years older than you."
"Fuck, that's hot." Alex's eyes glued to the screen, drinking her in like she were an oasis in the middle of the Sahara.
Derek kept quiet as the names and faces of those who have been murdered recently -those who fell victim to the Kanima- appeared on the screen. They were all so random, Derek could never find a distinct connection between them all.
The second victim's face displayed onto the television screen while In the 'Arms of an Angel' played softly in the background. Alex let out a small tut, shaking his head while disagreeing with what he was seeing.
"That guy was a complete asshole. Can't say I didn't see this coming." He added. "If I die, tell Sarah Mclachlan to fuck off with her melodramatic music."
Derek sat up straight, Alex now bathing in the Alpha's shocked and apalled glance. He wouldn't know, his bright blue eyes still on the screen. With every victim they showed, Alex had some sort of sardonic comment to make.
" He's the one who got his winkie stuck in a jacuzzi jet." Alex raising his glass to the television screen as if to toast the death of the latest victim. "Guess there were worse reputations than carrying a rolling backpack, huh Derek?"
The insensitivity of Alex's demeanor was driving Derek up a wall. Worse of all, Alex clearly knew these people and now the Alpha was peeved that Alex knew something he did not, perhaps he was somehow related to these deaths...an immediate suspect.
"How do you know them all!?" Derek demanded, he was so put off by Alex he pushed his drink aside. He pointed to the T.V 'You knew every single one of the murder victims, I find that to be suspicious. Care to explain?"
Alex took a swig of his drink, then looked to Derek to study him, to see if he was being serious, and let out a small chuckle. The edge of the glass playfully rolling across his smiling lips. "Well uh, let's see here Derek. When one's cranium has been fused tighty within the breaches of the inter-gluteal cleft or the natal cleft it's hard to see the people that surround them, and therefore that person, in this case which is you, remains absolutely clueless about everything and anything. I suppose it's not really your fault." Alex going on with his musings.
"You've been spoon fed the idea that you are the most important person since you were a child, this false sense of superiority often leads to blind ignorance." Alex giving Derek another disgusted up and down stare, judging every inch of him.
Derek was losing his temper now. His hand shot forward to grab Alex by the neck of his shirt, the fabric bunching up in Derek's angry fist. "What the fuck are you saying?"
Alex remained unmoved, and now his venomous glare was locked onto Derek. The Alpha had never seen such a look before. Cold and dark, and at the same time it was like all of hell was burning wildly behind arctic blue eyes. Alex's energy had shifted to something silent, something calculating, something ready to inflict damage upon Derek, ready to break him. He wouldn't say he was intimidated, but it was enough for him to let go of Alex, the human couldn't even do any harm even if he had wished.
" Not being able to grasp the simplest terms can cause idiots like you to lash out. So let me break this down in the simplest way I know how. What i'm saying is, maybe if you didn't have your head up your ass all of highschool until now, you would have recognized them too." Alex carefully smoothing out any creases Derek may have created on his shirt.
Derek was a grubby worm hung up on Alex's hook, waiting for an answer, feeling the angry tremble in his hands slowly subside.
"They were on the swim team, moron."
The Alpha blinked wide. Alex had seamlessly just put together a missing piece Derek and even Stiles had been scrambling to solve for so long. Derek jumped to his feet, fishing out his wallet from his back pocket. Leaving a few crisp notes for his beer and even tip. He had to find Scott and Stiles, even though he thought of them to be nuisances they needed to know this piece of information so that it may lead them to the Kanima. And once Derek found the Kanima, he would end the miserable human's life.
Alex's attention returned to the television, his back towards Derk who had turned to walk away.
"One more thing, Hale." Alex's rough voice cutting through Derek's thoughts, he threw Derek another cold look, this time it was accompanied by a devil may care smile. It created a shudder inside of Derek. "Touch me one more time and I'll find a way to fit that ego filled head of yours up your ass. I'll make it look easy. And I'll look good doing it."
And while Derek's anger had swollen like a rising tide ready to lay waste to the shore, he kept it inside, for he swore Alex fed off his reactions. Alex's threats were hollow and pathetic, much like himself, Derek decided it would be a waste of time to provoke him any further. The Alpha left the bar, in search of Scott and Stiles.
- Nikita's POV-
Nikita swallowed thickly as the bouncer looked at her fake I.D. With her disguise she was certain to get in. Her forced smile was starting to dissolve, the bouncer taking an unusually long time to glance over her I.D. Nikita had donned a bright electric blue wig that ran past her shoulders in wide waves. Tonight she had worn simple white crop top, sky blue waist high shorts that were much too short than what she was used to, but at least it showed off her runner's butt. Danny had picked a pink faux fur jacket for her to top it all off. While Nikita normally hated wearing heels, tonight she pulled a pair from the back of her closet, the biggest white Jeffrey Campbell platforms one could imagine. Danny, who had decided to go shirtless and paint his body with red glitter, had already passed the bouncer and was waiting for her, nervously wringing his fingers.
"You're good." The bouncer confirmed.
She would have smiled an accomplished grin, but it was risky, for her single dimple would have given her away. So she just grabbed her fake I.D and thanked the Bouncer. She would have to thank Matt and his magical photoshop skills later.
After giving her coat to the coat check her and Danny headed straight to the main room.
The two of them cut through a sea of people and walked across the foggy dance floor towards the bar, Nikita feeling the stickiness of alcohol beneath her shoes. Everything from the music, the people, to the energy was simply electric and Nikita was relishing in it already. The heavy bass and loud synth filled the club to vibrate the floorboards, The lights bounced across the room and danced across their bodies. Nikita would make sure they would end up dancing the night away, but first they needed some strong libations. Nikita leaned over the counter to grab the bartender's attention, waving her cash in the air. Finally garnering attention.
"Two Adios Motherfuckers, please."
Danny's eyes snapped wide with much delight as Nikita gave him a devious wink, she intended on having a great night and forget about any woes holding her down. She too deserved to be happy.
"You're kidding...Right?" Danny asked with an amused smile, trying to pick up his jaw, as Nikita handed him a bright blue drink, the drink itself the same color as her wig.
She patted his back with her free hand, tasting the concoction of bitter and sweet coating her tongue. "Drink up Danny, this is just the first of many."
"Cheers." Danny holding his drink up to the light. "To our exes and mascara."
Nikita took another sip through her straw, "and what do our exes and mascara have in common?"
"They run at the first sign of emotion."
She let out a laugh it was sad but terribly true. Danny went to sip his drink. The two of them decided that the orange slice on the rim of their cups was in the way of drinking, it wasn't optimizable. Nikita decided a straw wasn't necessary either, having to drink from a straw only slowed her mission to get completely plastered. The straw was left on the bartop and she drank straight from the cup, a few large gulps and she swore her senses were already starting to dull, her muscles starting to relax. A blue sticky sweet droplet escaped the corner of her mouth, to travel down the column of her neck and pool in the dip of her collarbone. Danny struggling to keep up with Nikita, his eyes traveling elsewhere above the rim of his glass.
Nikita had caught Danny's deeply forlorn glance, her eyes traveling to where he was looking to find that his ex was here, dancing much too closely with another man.
She felt for him, seeing someone you previously dated move on so quickly was disheartening, an absolute blow to anyone's self esteem. Nikita hooked her arm around Danny's neck, pulling him in close." Hey ignore him, alright?" Her voice louder than usual so that it carried over the music. "That hunk over there that looks like a buff Ryan Gosling has been eyeing you since we were in line, go dance with him."
Danny looked over to the young stud who couldn't seem to keep his coy smile from Danny.
That got Danny to smile as well, instantly lifting his mood " Okay! I'm gonna go dance with him, are you okay by yourself?" he yelled trying to talk over the music, it seemed to grow increasingly louder.
Nikita leaned in close to his ear so he could hear. " Yeah I'm going to finish this then go dance!"
The two giving each other nods before Danny departed to chat up the cutie at the end of the bar.
She rolled her head back, staring at the light speckled ceiling. this was what she needed, a night out with her friend, a night with such distractions she couldn't get lost in her own mind. Nikita had absolutely nothing to stress over or worry about in this exact moment. Her finger rubbed the back of her wig, it was a little scratchy. But Danny seemed to love the blue wig on her, claiming she looked like the Anime girl of his dreams, so she kept it on.
Nikita leaned back on the bar and took a long sip of her drink. The bitter alcohol loomed on the tip of her tongue as it burned its way down to the pit of her belly. Already she was starting to feel fuzzy and warm, the concoction of vodka, tequila, and gin starting to kick in. Her stomach let out the most obnoxious grumble, begging to be fed. Although she had eaten three meals today, it seemed that she needed more. An ever-insatiable creature lived in the pit of her belly, needy, angry, trying to claw out so that it may devour everything in sight.
"Shoosh, you!" Nikita pointed to her stomach, as if it would silence the beast.
That's when something caught her eye, from across the dance floor she could see Stiles and Scott approaching her.
"Damnit, I just wanted one night." Nikita hissed to herself. immediately at the sight of dumb and dumber she tilted her cup and began chugging the ice blended drink. regrettably giving herself a brain freeze.
The boys approached the bar while she was helpless in the midst of her painful brain freeze. Nikita pulled faces while they stood either side of her.
" Two beers!" Stiles ordered from the bartender, with a confidence that shot for the stars. Nikita stood frozen between them, she was facing the dance floor while they were facing the bar. Her eyes darted between the two, it seemed that the blue wig on her head was doing wonders with disguising her tonight, as neither boy recognized her.
The bartender leaned over the counter, and Nikita heard him say "no wristbands no drinks!"
Stiles turned around and looked over to her, still unaware of who was actually standing next to him. " Come here often?" He joked. She tilted the cup back, but there was nothing more to drink now.
She shot him a fake smile, although it pained her like a hemorrhoid, her single dimple emerging giving away her identity easily. That's when Stiles' mouth dropped open, he looked her up and down, astonished and surprised with what he saw.
"N-Nik?"
Nikita didn't respond, instead she walked away from him, to immerse herself on the dance floor and pretend his stupid mole speckled face didn't almost ruin her night. He could watch her walk away in her short shorts.
She had promised Danny that they were here to dance the night away and have fun, that was exactly what she was going to do. Never mind the fact that Danny had left her to dance with some Ryan Gosling look alike, or the fact that both Scott and Stiles were here. She was going to dance like nobody was watching, especially Stiles who had his eyes glued on her all the way from the bar. Stiles broke her heart, and Nikita was going to pretend it didn't still hurt. Make it seem like he had meant nothing to her.
Stiles could stand and stare all he wanted. She was aware he was watching her, Nikita lost herself in the crowd of sweaty bodies moving to the music and closed her eyes. She threw back her head, tossing her vibrant hair, allowing the beat, the rhythm of the music consume her until everything else ceased to exist. Nikita had allowed herself to sink so completely into the music that she didn't immediately notice the group of extravagantly dressed drag queens approaching. They surrounded her, right there on the dance floor. Untouched by the crowd like they were surrounded in a magnetic forcefield. One, a woman with a bright red wig beneath a purple turban lay a soft hand on Nikita's arm to draw the younger girl's attention.
"Sweetie we've been watching you, now let us ladies know, is that puppy over there taken?" Her head cocked over to the side, where Stiles stood at the bar.
He quickly turned around, pretending he hadn't been caught staring...Again. Nikita couldn't help but to roll her eyes at his weak attempt of playing nonchalant.
"He's all yours." Nikita winked at the drag queen and turned so she could get back to dancing.
That sent the gaggle of hens into a frenzy of giggles.
The one with red hair put her hand on Nikita's shoulder, forcing her to stop dancing "He's an ex isn't he? Don't play coy little darling, are you trying to make him jealous?"
Nikita shrugged her shoulders. "I don't care." Was all she said. She didn't care if she hurt him, she didn't care for what he felt. She was just enjoying the buzz that warmed every inch of her.
" Honey, you're not doing it right." One with golden curls piped in.
That's when a petite and adorable girl her age approached Nikita, a girl she had never seen before. She was in a blue tutu, a white sequin bikini top. Her dark bedroom eyes lined in metallic blue liner and the apples of her cheeks were adorned in silver glitter. The structure of her face was narrow and slender, modelesque. Her jet hair streaked with pink pulled in two double buns, and hot pink shimmery lip gloss that made her lips pop.
This is Star, she'll show you how it's done." The one in the red wig announced proudly.
Nikita, while usually social, really preferred to keep to herself tonight. As a polite gesture she extended her hand out, for a shake. She was expecting Star to shake it back, and that would be that. What she wasn't expecting was for Star to pull her hand forcing Nikita's body to collide with hers, and kiss her.
Her eyes widened as her lips pressed with Star's. Her lips had that plasticy taste of shimmery gloss. Star traced the bottom of Nikita's lips with her tongue, right before pushing her way into Nikita's mouth. Thats was when their tongues touched, and Nikita could taste something akin to artificial grape flavoring blossoming rapidly across her taste buds. She stumbled backwards, in complete shock. She had just kissed a girl, Nikita hadn't meant to take these mind games with Stiles so far. She was having fun, but this...This crossed the line. She wouldn't purposely kiss someone in front of him. With the back of her hand Nikita wiped her mouth, smearing her lipstick along with the remnants of Star's hot pink lip gloss.
The group of drag queens and Star burst into laughter. Nikita looked as freaked out as a cat trying to escape a bath.
"Oh yes, he's going to be itching to get his hands on you tonight!" One of them laughed out loud.
"More like he'll be growing hair on his palms tonight!" The other cackled.
Stars gloved hand came to cup the side of Nikita's face tenderly, then her thumb came to fix Nikita's lipstick. "Don't worry baby girl. Once the effects kick in, you'll forget all about him."
Nikita was in shock. Not because she had just kissed another girl, but because there was an unknown substance dissolving on the tip of her tongue.
-Stiles' POV-
Stiles and Scott looked at each other in shock as Nikita walked away from the bar and disappeared into the thick crowd, neither of them had recognized her, and all it took was a silly cheap wig.
"So much for keeping her away from the supernatural." Stiles grumbled.
"Stiles, we just need to focus on the Kanima." Scott shouted over the loud music "Don't lose focus, alright?"
Stiles nodded.
The Beta's eyes flashed molten gold. He scanned the dance floor with a predatory patience, knowing his prey was somewhere within in the vicinity, or perhaps even in the crowd. Scott tilted his head slightly upwards and shut his eyes, trying to file through the various types of scents clashing and mingling within in the club. Stiles was certain his friend could smell the bitter and fruity drinks, cheap colognes and perfumes, lust, arousal, anxiety, everything melded into one. It was so much, the team of smells overpowering. Scott opened his eyes, knocked off his concentration from it all.
"I'm going to patrol the dance floor." Scott shouted once more before disappearing as well, leaving Stiles alone at the bar.
"Yeah that's fine, i'll just hang out with-" Stiles looked to his far right to see an older man dressed as a devil eyeing him, checking him out.
Stiles swallowed thickly, extremely uncomfortable but somehow kind of flattered. He was getting attention. He didn't swing that way, but still . . . at least someone thought he was hot. Blushing, Stiles turned his attention to the dance floor. He could only just see Nikita who was lost between the crowd, but those glimpses he caught between the bodies held his attention. Enchanted by her, he watched her dance. She was a Goddess who always demanded attention without trying. Her body glistened with sweat, little beads of moisture that sparkled beneath the pulsating colored lights. Blue hair whipping side to side, while strands of it stuck to the sides of her face and neck. Her luscious strawberry painted lips parted. The sway of her hips to the music, the slender curve of her back, her plump behind in those form fitting shorts...every inch of her so perfect. He wanted to touch her, hold her, feel her. He wanted to feel the warmth of her skin against his own, bury himself in the sweet scent of her jasmine perfume.
Only he couldn't.
He couldn't touch her, or hold her. She wasn't his. Not anymore. He'd given her up to protect her.
His forehead creased as a small group of drag queens approached Nikita. Stiles watched closely. They exchanged a few short words and looked directly at Stiles. Yet again, he was caught staring.
immediately he turned to face the bar. "Damnit." Stiles muttered to himself, he never knew how to play cool in front of Nikita.
He had to collect himself, focus on anything but her, focus on the task at hand. As soon as he thought the coast was clear, he turned around.
His jaw hit the floor as he saw Nikita's lips locked onto another girls. Stiles couldn't believe his eyes, never had he been so turned on. This was plucked from his fantasies, and the fact that it was a girl he was already attracted to made it that much better. He caught himself, halted his thoughts, embarrassed for being so turned on, his testosterone punching through the roof. Stiles had to bite down on his fist to calm himself down, but it was too late. He looked down to see a bulge forming in his pants.
"No! No! Not here!" Stiles yelped.
He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around to face the bartender.
"Specially made for you." A different bartender cocked his head towards Stiles' crotch " Devil boy wanted me to give you this."
He passed Stiles a red fruity drink, Stiles leaned over the counter to see the man dressed as a devil wave a shy hello.
Immediately his cheeks went red. Stiles bolted, running out of the Jungle Club and out the back door to get fresh air. He needed to calm his raging teenage hormones.
After fifteen minutes of gross thoughts to kill his boner, like a naked Coach Finnstock doing jumping jacks, Stiles was fine. He placed his hands on his knees and doubled over, taking in a deep breath. That's when he saw it, on the edge of the step leading to the back door.
Clear thick liquid formed in a puddle. He had seen the substance before, dripping off the tip of the Kanima's claws...Scott was right, it was in the building.
"Nikita." Stiles whispered.
He hurried back into the club, he had to get her to safety, even if she wasn't being targeted. Stiles found Nikita exactly where he saw her last, although her moves had become more mechanical and clumsy. Something was off with her, as she stumbled around side to side.
Stiles pushed past sweaty bodies to get to her. Finally when he approached her, he realized she wasn't sober.
"Whoah, slow your roll, Niki."
She didn't respond as she kept on dancing and enjoying the music, perhaps she hadn't heard him.
He was officially worried, she didn't try to distance herself from him like he had expected her to.
"Are you okay?"
His hands cupped her face as he examined her. He looked into her olive green eyes, to see that her pupils were widely dilated. She shut her eyes and turned her cheeks deeper into Stiles' hand.
"You're not okay." Stiles assessed aloud.
"You're an idiot." Were the only coherent words that stumbled from her lipstick smeared mouth.
She wasn't drunk, she was having a bad trip, she had gotten her hands onto synthetic drugs. He had to get her water fast, she looked like she was about to hurl on the dance floor. He looked to the bar which seemed so far from them, the thick crowd acting as a barrier.
"I want you to stay here, Okay? I'll get you water."
She nodded. Stiles felt bad for leaving her behind, but he knew he could reach the bar faster without her straggling behind him. Stiles pushed past the sea of people, the crowd seemed to get thicker the closer he got to the bar. Stiles finally reached the bar and caught the bartender's attention.
"NO WRISTBANDS NO BEER!" The same bartender from earlier barking at him.
Stiles could feel his cheeks reddening with frustration. "Yeah, can I get water please?"
Nikita's POV
The music flowed within her veins, like thousands of sparkling electric currents carrying raw euphoria. A part of her recognized she was high, but it felt too good to matter or care. The heavy bass shook the floor beneath her feet, rattling the bones in her body, she could feel every treble, every pitch, every note of the song, she was so super sensitive to touch and feel. It all felt so damn amazing. She was caught in a sonic ripple with her at the center. Little rays of green light boucned off the disco ball, shooting rays of light all over her body. She swore it tickled at her skin.
Whatever Star had slipped her felt like pure magic. However, the magic seemed to fade as soon as he carefully approached her on the dance floor.
"Whoah, slow your roll, Niki."
She could hardly hear him over the sound of the loud music, even the sound of her grumbling stomach was louder than him.
Nikita wanted to tell Stiles to leave her alone, to get lost. But her tongue felt so heavy, so lazy, so incredibly dry.
A worried look painted itself across his face. "Are you okay?"
His hands cupped her face as he examined her eyes. She couldn't help but to stare back, look deep into the warm chocolate pools, speckled with gold. His touch was so warm and comforting, instinctively Nikita turned her cheek deeper into his hand and closed her eyes to enjoy the simple pleasure.
"You're not okay..." Stiles observed out loud.
She had only let him know he was an idiot. As soon as the words left her mouth a stabbing hunger pain caused her to cringe. She could see the worry in Stiles' face now, as his brows knitted together.
"I want you to stay here, okay? I'll get you water."
Nikita nodded with understanding, licking a layer of sweat off the top of her lips. Water was exactly what she needed at the moment as the room began to spin. She watched Stiles disappear into the thick crowd, towards the bar. Her head felt so light, like a balloon. Everything in her body started to feel numb, starting with the tips of her fingers. Nikita couldn't wait for Stiles to return, she needed water fast. Like a newborn deer on ice she stumbled through the crowd, bumping against dancing bodies. Slowly her vision began to tunnel, Nikita needed to find the bathroom fast.
The long corridor leading to the bathroom looked endless, something out of a labyrinth. She held onto the side of the cold walls, using it to guide her to the end of the hall. Finally she had found herself hunched over a white porcelain sink basin, finger gripped tight over the edge of the sink. The tap was running with cold water, which she had forced herself to drink.
The rust filled taste of the water seemed to grow stronger and stronger the more she drank. Nikita squeezed her eyes allowing the cold water to run down her throat. Her stomach was in knots, growling, her tongue feeling heavy. She pulled from the faucet, but kept her head bowed down in attempt to regulate her breathing That's when she saw two unmistakable drops of blood land onto the porcelain. The red dots rolled down the white to blossom into the water, diluting in color and swirling down the drain, more blood joining the rest. The overwhelming taste of warm copper filled her mouth. Nikita spat the crimson out, splattering it against the white sink.
Quickly she lifted her head to look into the mirror, her eyes growing wide upon the sight of her horrendous reflection. Her mouth covered thickly in blood, it dribbled freely, and rolled down in a long chain of saliva off her chin.
Nikita let out a cry, disturbed by what she saw. In her fit of fear she had stumbled away from the mirror in her large platform heels and had lost all balance. The frightened girl fell backwards on the bathroom floor to land on her butt, the back of her head hit the stall door to slam it open. Inside were two girls, one with her hand underneath the other girl's skirt, and her other hand around the moaning girl's mouth. Nikita's own mouth remained open, her horrification met mortification upon seeing the fornication.
"What the fuck!" One of them shouted before closing the door.
A few girls walked into the bathroom to fix their hair and makeup in the mirror, they had treated Nikita like she was a drunk mess who needed to be avoided. Could they not see her? Could they not see all the blood that marred her face and sullied her clothes?
"I'm bleeding!" Nikita cried out in dismay from where she sat, on the cold tiled floor.
One girl, with brassy short hair turned around and fished her hand deep in her purse. "Bitch, me too." She held a tampon for Nikita to take.
Nikita wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, expecting to see the skin there smeared with blood. But there was nothing, except for the satin stain of her lipstick, her makeup must have been especially messed up now. She began to crawl towards the sink on hands and knees, the girls watched, groaning with disgust at how unsanitary this all was. She didn't care, she had to look into the mirror again. One of them was kind enough to help her to her feet, even dusting the back of her shirt for her.
She peered deeply into the mirror, other than her messed up lipstick, things were seamlessly fine. Not a drop of blood within sight. Was it her lipstick that had given her such a fright? The same girl who had helped her up had pulled her aside from the mirror now, examining Nikita's face. She looked deeply concerned, finally someone showing a reaction.
"Oh honey. Everyone knows you don't look into a mirror when you're tripping balls."
Nikita didn't respond, instead her stomach did yet another unwanted long growl. The apples of her cheeks tinged with a rosy blush, her arms coming to wrap around her stomach.
Stiles' POV
He looked over his shoulder to see Nikita had vanished. Stiles grabbed the water and hastily pushed through the crowd once more, there was absolutely no sign of her. That's when Scott bumped into him.
"Dude! It's here!" Stiles shouted while running his fingers through his hair with his free hand.
"I know." Scott growled " I found Danny, but we seem to have another guest."
Stiles peered across the dance floor, his vision skewed by the dense fog and the disco lights. Two blood red eyes stared right back at him, Derek stood in the shadows.
"What's he doing here!?" Stiles yelled, frantically throwing his arms in the air "He's going to mess everything up."
"We need to make sure absolutely no one gets hurt, including the Kanima." Scott ordered, sounding like a natural leader.
But it was too late as Scott's eyes gazed to the ceiling. Out of the corridor leading to the bathroom the Kanima appeared, it stealthily moved across the ceiling, then dropped itself into the crowd. Stiles' eyes grew wide in horror as screams filled the air, bodies hit the ground one by one like dominoes. He dropped the cup of water to his feet. Stiles barely had time to process what was happening, in a blink of an eye he was outside the club as frantic people ran outside screaming.
The last thing he saw was Derek fighting the Kanima, only for the creature to scurry back to the corridor and Derek was shoved with the rest of the crowd outside, caught in the thick of panic.
Scott, Stiles, and Derek stood outside dumbfounded at how the situation got so out of hand.
"We had this!" Scott snapped at Derek.
" Did you really?" Derek challenged "Because all I saw was you walking in circles, and this one trying to conceal his wood."
Scott shot Stiles a confused look.
"I don't want to talk about it." Stiles dead panned.
It took only moments for the paramedics to show up. They caught sight of Danny being wheeled out on a stretcher, a few more followed behind him.
"Danny!"
The three of them turned their heads to see Nikita run out of the club, the very last person to exit.
Stiles looked to see Derek's reaction, but he was gone as soon as he caught sight of Nikita.
She stood by Danny's side, her hand in his.
"Danny! What happened? What's going on?"
She was starting to panic, trying to process everything even though her brain probably felt like oatmeal. Scott and Stiles joined her side, to check up on Danny as well. Scott's brow's knitted together in a frown as he sniffed the air, this time he leaned closer to Nikita as he took in her scent. Stiles taking immediate notice, shooting Scott a cutting glare
Danny let out a chuckle "I'm fine, I exchanged numbers with that guy, so we're good." He held up a shaky thumb and Nikita let out a small laugh as well.
Stiles noticed her skin was covered in goosebumps, her body trembling, she must have been freezing. He peeled off his red hoodie and draped it over Nikita's shoulders. She shot him a 'get away from me' glare that got Stiles to take a step back, yanked her wig off, and followed Danny into the back of the ambulance, still wearing his hoodie.
His head rolled back, hands coming to shield his face. Tonight had been a mess, a complete failure, and so many people had been put at risk. Stiles let out a groan, his mind scrambling to think of solutions, yet nothing seemed to connect.
He noticed his best friend had been rather quiet. The Beta was frowning at the ground, studying the pebbles on the asphalt, as if he too were searching for answers. Stiles had seen the look many times before and knew what it meant.
Stiles nudged his best friends' ribs with his elbow, capturing his attention. "What is it? I saw you sniffing Niki."
"Nothing. She still smells human." Scott crossing his arms and mumbling, his eyes on the herds of people still reeling from the catastrophe.
"Why did you sniff her in the first place?" Stiles hated that Scott was suspicious of Nikita, but this conversation needed to be had so he could put a lid on Scott's nonsensical thoughts and accusations.
At first Scott hesitated, knowing Stiles wouldn't like what he was going to say. "I saw Nikita go down the hall to where I assume was the bathroom. Then a moment later I saw a Kanima come out of that same hall…."
"Dude!" He was already tired of having to defend her so constantly.
"I'm just putting it out there, Stiles, i'm not pointing fingers." Scott shuffling uncomfortably where he stood. "Anyways, Allison texted me. The translation of the Kanima was different in the Beastiary. It says the Kanima is seeking a master, not a friend."
Stiles threw his hands in surrender, it felt like they were only going in circles here. "Great, that's just great, and leads us to nothing."
Both Scott and Stiles peered to the top of the club roof at the same time, Derek perching off the edge like a gargoyle. Masked in the shadows like always, only two sparks of red indicating his eyes. Neither of them said anything, but they knew Derek had heard all of it, everything; there was no telling what he would do with this information. Especially the information about Nikita.
Stiles wanted to tell himself Derek wouldn't act upon this. He wouldn't think of touching a hair on Nikita's head. But that was what they had assumed with Peter. Stiles would not fall for past loyalties once more. For even if Derek were different than Peter, he was still a Hale. And a Hale had no qualms with severing ties in order to get a job done.
Please leave me some love, a bitch could really use some love tonight.
Can't wait for the next chapter, it's going to get even trickier.
