A collection of short, individual one-shots about Derek, his adoptive daughter Laura and Stiles, Laura's favourite Uncle and babysitter extraordinaire.

I don't own Teen Wolf or any of the characters in the series, I'm just borrowing them from their respective owners to play with a little and I promise to give them back when I'm done. No copyright infringement is intended and I don't make any money from writing fanfiction.


A strawberry blond spitfire's schemes

Lydia's help with the wedding plans proves to be a problem and Stiles might have bitten off more than he can chew after all…


Stiles trudged out of the officiant's office behind Derek, dragging his feet all the way to the car. It wasn't until he'd dejectedly slumped in his seat that Derek understood that this was something more serious going on than just the usual pre-wedding nerves, especially since there was no real reason to be nervous anymore. They had talked with Laura and assured her that they very much loved each other and loved the idea of getting married, and that the only thing they didn't love (except maybe broccoli and kale) was the ridiculously over the top ceremony that Lydia had planned for them. There was some serious love in the air and nobody was backing out. As for the wedding itself, they already had a place booked for the reception and they'd chosen the perfect spot for the ceremony, they had a good caterer on board for the food and the support of friends, family and pack. All in all they were pretty ready to get married, but after just one short meeting with the officiant Stiles looked as if he carried the weight of the whole world upon his shoulders and Derek didn't know why.

"What's going on?" He didn't see the point of tiptoeing around the issue. "You don't like him?" he asked Stiles.

"Didn't you see the way he stared at me?" Stiles returned heatedly. "He probably thinks I'm behind all this crap!"

"We're both getting married, why would he think that it was only your idea?" Derek tried to reason with him but Stiles was already riled up.

"Because you're the handsome, well-hung hunk," he said, gesturing wildly, "and I'm the twitchy, twiggy little twink. He probably couldn't ever imagine that a manly Adonis-man like you would ever want such fluffy things as 'live doves flying off into the sunset' at your wedding."

"Well, I don't" Derek pointed out. "But neither do you."

"I know that," Stiles almost screeched, "but he obviously doesn't!"

"Does it bother you that much? What he thinks of you?" Derek asked and got a heated glare in reply.

"You try being on the receiving end of those condescending, judgey looks and we'll see how you like it" Stiles suggested angrily and Derek backed off, holding up his hands in an attempt to placate the other man.

"Look, none of this is actually decided yet" he said. "These are just Lydia's plans and if we don't like them we can tell her that, and change the ceremony."

"You want to tell her that, Big Bad, because I most certainly don't" Stiles huffed and Derek shuddered a little as he considered the issue. An Alpha werewolf he may be but there were few things scarier than an angry Lydia Martin. And telling her that they didn't like her work would make her very angry indeed.

"Maybe we could persuade Jackson to propose, so she'll be too occupied planning her own wedding to have time for ours?" Stiles suggested hopefully.

"Anything else than telling her sounds good to me" Derek mumbled and pulled away from the curb.

In the end there was no avoiding it after all, as Cora almost suffered a nervous breakdown and threatened not only to step down as maid of honour but to not attend the wedding at all, if Lydia was allowed to continue. This lead to a very uncomfortable discussion in which Lydia might have partially confessed to being a tad carried away and Derek and Stiles took most of the blame for not communicating their issues sooner. It was a small price to pay to not invoke the wrath of the strawberry blonde and they retreated back home to lick their wounded pride in peace.

This, however, brought on a different problem. Without Lydia to plan the ceremony they soon realized that they'd have to do that themselves which was nerve-wracking to say the least. It was just the most important day in their whole lives, no pressure. Also, as Lydia hadn't already picked out a dress for Laura, this was something that they needed to do as well. They, in this case, meaning Stiles.

"I still don't understand how I got roped into this" Stiles groaned and Laura took his hand, leading him into the first store.

"Don't sulk" she told him sternly. "I have to wear something nice and daddy has to work so you have to help me pick out something nice."

"I'm not sulking" he told her seriously, and somewhat miserably. "I'm just thinking that there are other people who're better at picking out dresses than me, like, any other female pack member. Or your daddy, I think your daddy would do a much better job than me."

"But he'd not here, and you are" Laura pointed out, ever the voice of reason. "Can you hand me the green one?" Stiles groaned inwardly and reached for the dress. It was going to be along day.

After three hours, an emergency slushie that stabilized his blood sugar levels and sent Laura's sky-rocketing and zero good-looking dresses later Stiles was ready to admit defeat and dragged himself and the hyperactive little werewolf across town to beg forgiveness. They totally needed Lydia after all.

At least for the dresses.