Chapter 38

"Dude, you really don't have to drive us," Stiles tried, yet again, but Derek was utterly unmoved.

"I'll keep watch and take you home when you're done," the werewolf repeated his answer for the fifth time. "Or rescue you whenever you want." He looked like he wanted there to be a need to rescue them.

Isaac sighed. "Let it go, Stiles. If the adults think it's necessary, it's better not to argue."

Stiles opened his mouth for a sixth try and closed it promptly when a new text message flashed over the screen of his phone.

"It's Peter, isn't it?" Isaac asked with a smirk.

"Hah, no. My dad. But he's telling us to get a move on before he decides to stop by Lydia's house and check for illicit alcohol consumption." Stiles straightened up, let the phone slide into his pant pocket, and then clapped his hands. "Well then, let's go, James."

Derek's unamused look could've stripped paint from a wall, but he did leave the house, fully expecting the two boys to follow.

Fifteen minutes later they stopped in front of Lydia's chic villa. It was tastefully decorated with fairy lights, which provided an understated but very attractive contrast to the settling darkness. It being past the middle of May already meant that the air was balmy and sweet, and the last rays of sunshine mild on their skin.

"Man, her parents must be filthy rich," Isaac muttered after a little whistle.

From two cars over Erica and Boyd made themselves known and joined their little group.

"Hey Catwoman, you look absolutely stunning tonight," Stiles praised, taking Erica's hand and gesturing for her to twirl around to show off her curled hair, red hairband, and sort-of-rockabilly red blouse and black, tight pants. She even wore a short, black leather jacket and a studded belt. "Have a hot date?"

"As a matter of fact …" Erica smiled widely and wound her arm around Boyd's. "I do. This one asked me out when he came to pick me up. Doesn't he look handsome in his shirt and slacks? His grandma splurged when she heard of the invitation. It was so sweet."

Isaac whooped and Stiles laughed in genuine happiness for his friends. Erica blushed and pressed a red kiss onto Boyd's cheek. Even Derek looked cautiously pleased from his watchful post a few paces away.

"Yo, losers, are you coming in, or what?" Jackson yelled from the entrance door. "Get a move on, the grill's ready for our dinner."

"Coming!" Isaac called and loped off.

Stiles watched him and Erica and Boyd go for a second but then turned back to Derek. "You really don't have to hang around all night. I promised Peter to be careful. But we'll call when we're ready to go home. Sound like a deal?" Derek just stared at him until Stiles rocked on his feet awkwardly and raised his shoulders defensively. "Well, okay then. I might come out later and bring you some food. That okay, at least?"

"That's okay," Derek rumbled. He grabbed Stiles' jacket lapel and dragged him close for a hug and a stubbly cheek rub. "And now go. Jackson's looking weirdly our way."

"Let him look. He's probably thinking that I had to pay someone prettier than him to cuddle me, the dick. Joke's on him, though. Us Stilinskis give the best hugs, hah." Stiles obnoxiously patted Derek's scruff and jauntily went after Isaac, Erica, and Boyd, who were already inside the house.

"Really, Stilinski? Derek Hale?" Jackson snarked, hot on Stiles' heels and quite clearly unwilling to get lost after having taken the voucher. "Does your dad know that you're playing the underage game?"

"I'm not playing games with Derek," Stiles retorted, unerringly finding his way to the large, sunken den where Lydia and her guests were occupying huge white leather sofas and sipping soft drinks. Chill lounge music was playing in the background, setting the mood for a nice, balmy early summer night. There were also more fairy lights and LED strands adorning the room. Huge potted plants brought a little jungle atmosphere to the otherwise rather minimalist design. "Nice digs!"

"Lydia's parents are even more wealthy than mine and they've never denied Lydia anything she wants for her parties," Jackson said with a dismissive shrug. "Though they're nearly done getting a divorce and it's still up in the air who gets to keep the house. If it comes up tonight, don't say anything. It's a sore topic for her."

"Thanks for the heads-up," Stiles murmured, surprised at Jackson's helpfulness.

"Yeah, well, try not to get eaten by the sharks." And with that Jackson made his way out onto the large terrace, where a large grill had indeed been set up. A maid was actually waiting by a table, ready to assist with the grilling effort.

Shaking his head to himself, Stiles turned his attention to the assembled people. Most were students of their high school, but at least two dozen or so were visibly older than the rest and looking vaguely amused at having been badgered into attending a high schooler's networking party.

Stiles guessed that at least half of them would regret their condescension as the evening progressed.

Before things could become awkward, Stiles just waved at everyone, introduced himself to the new faces, and plonked down next to Erica and Boyd, who'd already been handed drinks.

Lydia promptly arrived with another for Stiles. "Welcome. I'm glad you could make it."

"Well, I don't actually know why I'm here, but thanks for the invite," Stiles answered. He accepted the glass of water took a large gulp. "Everything looks really good so far."

"Thank you." Lydia flicked back her perfectly coiffed hair and surveyed the small crowd. With her natural authority it was child's play for her to command everyone's attention. "Everyone, now that you're all here, a few words about this party's purpose. As you've already discovered, I've invited some college seniors. Not only can they give us pointers in the fine art of partying," here Beacon Hills High's nerdy elite cheered loudly, "they're also ready and willing to answer questions about their college experience before we dive head first into our exams." To the college students she said, "Don't let our age fool you, ladies and gents, we're quite a bright bunch with lots of ambition and the backing to support our goals."

Methodically she introduced the college folks by name, college, and course of study, and offered stickers to write their names on to make mingling easier. Not everyone accepted, although Stiles and his friends all did just for the heck of it. Boyd even chose the most garish floral sticker he could find which promptly animated one of the college dudes to strike up a conversation with him about their society's gender norms and their harmful effects.

Erica remained with her date, but Isaac and Stiles took a stroll around the large den, inspecting the expensive furniture and candelabras and the few family pictures adorning the pristine walls. The huge sideboard was loaded with snacks and nibbles, and through the open terrace door the enticing smell of cooking meat was wafting in. Jackson seemed very content behind the grill, sipping his soda and flipping burgers.

"Hey, fancy seeing you here," Danny said, drawing Stiles' attention back to the goings-on in the den, and snagged a toothpick flag with a cube of cheese and a grape from its tray. "Jackson wasn't sure you'd come."

"We're still not sure why we've been invited," Stiles said. "Lydia doesn't know Erica, Boyd, and Isaac at all, and she doesn't exactly have fond feelings for me either."

Danny smiled kindly. "That's Lydia for you, but she notices things alright. They're important to you so here they are." He nodded at Isaac. "It's good to see you with friends after what Scott did."

"Danny, you're not supposed to know about that," Stiles growled and the teen raised his hands placatingly.

"I know, I know, sorry. I just wanted to know what's going on when you and Scott were missing school all of a sudden. I was worried … and wondering what I needed to pin on the Argents to make them go away. Allison's mom was a demon during the week you didn't come to school. Four days in she just didn't turn up again." Danny eyed Isaac tellingly. "Didn't anyone tell you?"

"I was … a little out of it," Stiles admitted grudgingly. "They might've."

"I did, actually," Isaac said, wolfing down another devilled egg with real caviar on top. "And you obviously forgot, but so what. She won't be bothering us again."

Danny coughed in that way when people disagreed but were too polite to tell someone to their face.

"What?" Stiles asked. "Did they come back?"

"No, it's not that. The Argents left town as a family, but I took the liberty of following their movements via the traffic cams … just to make sure, because that whole family has a few screws loose. Allison's grandfather was a real creep."

"Yeah, we know. And?" Isaac prodded.

"They split up just before Redding; Allison and her dad went one way and Mrs. Argent went the other." Danny picked up a tiny gherkin and glanced around carefully. "No idea whether they split up for logistic reasons, or whether they just split, period, but Mrs. A ditched her car soon after for a rental."

Stiles felt a frisson of unease running through him. "That's not shady at all. Fuck."

"I could keep monitoring her," Danny offered quietly.

Instantly suspicious, Stiles crossed his arms in front of his chest. "What for?"

"I'm curious and worried," Danny confessed, "but I also want in on the reveal you promised Jackson and Lydia. I've got eyes and ears, I know that there's weird stuff going on in Beacon Hills. If there's a way to protect myself and my family, I want to know."

"Psychotic people are weird, but there's hardly one foolproof way of protecting yourself against them," Stiles retorted. He was a little twitchy outwardly, but compared to his heart wildly hammering away in his chest at Danny's blatant gambit he was the very picture of calm. "I should know, my dad runs bi-annual seminars. Also, it's not super likely that the next crazy family will come along right after the Argents left."

"I'm not just talking about the Argents and you know it," Danny pressed.

"Even if I did, what's your point?" Stiles asked. "You think I have all the answers?"

Danny's lips firmed up for a second, clearly telegraphing his frustration. "You have at least some of them, Stiles. I know you do."

"Sorry man, no can do. The Scott thing is under lock and key due to his being a minor, and the rest is kept hush-hush because there's an ongoing investigation into the Argents. That they left the county won't look good for them, but I can't say more than that." Stiles clumsily patted Danny's arm. "It was a nice talk, though. Thanks for being concerned on my account and all, I appreciate it."

"Stiles!" Danny called, reaching out and getting a hold of Stiles' arm when he tried to leave. "I know what you were researching before you got a secure computer."

At once, Stiles' defensiveness turned to aggression and he slapped the other boy's hand away. "I knew it. I knew that you'd probably snoop around, that's why I got that computer in the first place. That's a fucking crime, Danny! I could tell my dad and he'd open your file back up so fast your head would spin right off your shoulders! You were even dumb enough to admit it in front of a witness!"

Isaac raised both eyebrows and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "You sure did, Mahealani."

Danny paled. "I … I'm sorry, Stiles."

"You better be!" Stiles hissed. He scowled at everybody's darling. "Don't stick your nose where it isn't allowed or wanted. Clear?"

"Clear." Danny was visibly shaken by Stiles' fury, not having ever been on the receiving end before and clearly not prepared to deal with it.

"Good. Let that be the last of it and we're good."

"Let's go," Isaac murmured and gently led Stiles away, out to the terrace where Jackson was manning the grill with still only the maid for company. As she was the only responsible adult around and alcohol was beginning to make the rounds inside, this didn't exactly surprise them.

"Hey, why're people drinking instead of sitting out here?" Isaac asked, plonking down on one of the supremely comfy deck sofas. "This is like a strip of paradise, and we've even got music out here." He looked around, admiring their surroundings. "Is that a pool over there?"

"It's really nice," Stiles agreed and flopped down next to Isaac. He took several appreciate sniffs. "Plus, whatever you're grilling smells amazing, Jackson."

Jackson snorted and flipped a couple of steaks. "For this event, I'm more or less the hired help. No offence, Rosa."

Rosa the maid smiled, showing off her pretty dimples. "None taken." She held out the platter for Jackson to drop off some bacon-wrapped sausages. "You are very good at grilling things, sir."

"But why aren't you mingling?" Stiles asked Jackson. "Not everyone here is a genius. I mean, Hugh is great at chemistry, but he's actually an idiot in almost all the other school subjects, and Leah's a whizz at writing meaningful stuff, but she just sucks at the sciences. Compared to them you're no slouch, even if you're a jockass."

"Gee, thanks, Stilinski," Jackson drawled. He thanked Rosa and sent her inside to pour them more drinks. There was a cooler right beside him but the maid just smiled again and left them alone.

"What's really going on?" Isaac asked. "Trouble with her ladyship?"

"No," Jackson answered after a moment of consideration. "Not in the way you think. For this party my chosen field of study wasn't deemed interesting enough, that's all. Can't say I mind, either. Half of the college ponces in there are grasping idiots."

Stiles' mouth dropped open a little. "Wow, that's harsh. What's so bad about your college plans? You gonna go into phys-ed or what?"

"Hardly," Jackson scoffed. "My dad hoped that I'd want to take over the firm when he's ready to retire, but I don't see myself defending or even prosecuting dumb people." He smirked. "Most of them are really very dumb, there's no need to look affronted, Stiles."

"He's not wrong," Isaac conceded, bumping Stiles' shoulder with his. "But it it's not certified jockdom, what are you gonna do?"

"I'm gonna do business studies." Jackson transferred the steaks to the elevated grillage for resting. "I'm good at making money, so I'll do that for a job."

"Well, business isn't the height of titillation, I've got to give Lydia that, but it's hardly cause to exile you," Isaac told him. "If she's planning on changing the world, it's gonna happen via the economy, isn't it?"

Jackson pointed his barbeque tongs at them. "Exactly. I'll play by the rules for a couple of years and then I'll set out and help found businesses that are good for the environment and shit. That's definitely where the future's going."

Stiles was impressed and didn't hesitate to let it show. "Good for all of us. Though what did you mean when you said you're good at making money?"

Jackson preened a little. "My parents gave me five-thousand dollars for my sixteenth birthday and I decided to try the stock market. First it was only a couple hundred dollars, just to see if it worked for me. When it did, my mom agreed to act as my proxy. She'll turn the portfolio over to me as soon as I'm eighteen."

"Good luck, then," Stiles said sincerely. "College will probably be a bitch because I can't imagine a drier subject, but to each their own."

Rosa returned with their drinks then, bringing with her a good portion of the guests. A couple of college students sat by Stiles and Isaac, holding overflowing plates with canapées in their hands.

"You want anything?" the pretty brunette with a cutely freckled face asked Stiles. Her name tag proclaimed her name to be Jodie. The blonde's name was Sarah. "I brought way too much, but everything looks just so good." She even held out a fork to Stiles and grinned winningly.

The other girl next to Isaac did the same, thereby making it clear that they'd come with a goal in mind.

"So you're in Lydia's year?" Sarah asked. When Isaac murmured his agreement, she fanned herself playfully. "We weren't sure; you look a little older. Especially you, Isaac." Her gaze fell from his face to his toned arms. "Are you working out a lot?"

"Yes, actually," Isaac replied, stealing a couple of cocktail shrimps from Sarah's plate. "And you?"

Stiles held back a snort of amusement, but only just. Sarah looked like a classical gym rat and was showing off her hard work with a tight halter top and blue jeans hotpants to great effect.

"Ohh, he's a sarcastic one," Jodie stage-whispered, which earned her a half-hearted kick from her friend. "Maybe he's the artsy type? Do you draw or paint?"

A somewhat stilted discussion began about the merits of studying art in the U.S. versus in Europe. Isaac didn't mention his comic project and so Stiles didn't bring it up either. If the other boy didn't want some wingman action to bag the attractive young woman, Stiles would do his best to adhere to his wishes. A quick text to Erica and Boyd, who were sitting at the far side of the deck and were involved in an animated argument about movies, ensured their silence as well.

To Stiles' considerable surprise, their two shadows proved to be rather persistent. Jodie made no secret of her admiration for Stiles' hands and Bambi eyes, and despite Isaac's early snub, Sarah seemed determined to have him warm up to her. There were even some veiled attempts to get them away from the others, which was all kinds of confusing for everyone. Thankfully there were a lot of opportunities to move away for a bit, be it to greet someone else, get more food, smuggle out a heaping plate of grilled stuff to Derek, or visit the bathroom. The girls would be back before too long after an evasion, but they weren't completely insistent on monopolizing Stiles and Isaac's attention.

"Why aren't they hanging out with the college dudes?" Isaac groused a couple of hours later as they huddled around the fire pit with Boyd and Erica and a couple more of their schoolmates. It was the go-to spot for people who didn't like to dance, not that it provided much protection against someone seeking a partner. "I didn't come here for this."

Erica leaned against him and wiggled her fingers at Sarah in a jaunty little wave. Sarah's answering annoyed look from the designated dance floor only widened her red-lipped grin. "She might genuinely like you, Isaac."

"Well, I don't really like her," Isaac huffed. He held his hands out towards the crackling flames of the pit even though it was hardly chilly. "Her perfume is annoying and we have nothing in common. She's also older than Derek, what is she even thinking."

"My dad probably wouldn't yell at you if you went and had a snog or something," Stiles muttered.

"But Peter would," Isaac retorted. "I need a buffer. Can you guys help?"

"Yes, but you could just tell her," Boyd said shortly.

"Dude, he tried." Stiles emptied his root beer bottle and fiddled with it. "He was rude as all hell."

"Not enough, obviously," Erica smirked. "Just tell her that you don't want to hook up. She's a big girl, she'll deal. You too, Stiles."

"I'll continue to flee in terror for a while longer, thanks," Stiles said, causing some of his schoolmates to look at him disbelievingly.

"Better move fast then, Jodie looks like she wants to come over," Boyd warned.

Just then Lydia was joining the group of dancing guests and spent a few minutes with the stalker girls, as Stiles had coined them. Try as he might, Stiles just couldn't look away from Lydia's sinuously moving body and gently swaying long hair. To his eye, she was one of the most beautiful girls in the world - certainly not everybody's type but with so much character and sheer presence to make up for any and all perceived flaws.

"You're drooling," Erica murmured and elbowed Stiles in the side.

Stiles ducked his head and flushed a little. "Sorry, yeah. I'll just … go cool my face or something." He pointed vaguely at the villa. "Text me if something hilarious happens."

"Will do, Batman," she chirped.

Stiles saluted his friends, put his empty bottle into a crate and trotted off. Instead of just going through the terrace door he went around the villa and entered through the front entrance.

Inside the house, the sound system was playing the same music as outside but otherwise it was very quiet. Not even 'the help' was visible, and they had a lot of work to do after several someones had apparently gotten into an all-out goldfish cracker fight. The white rug in the den was almost completely covered in crumbs and less fun sticky stuff.

Shaking his head at the carnage, Stiles let himself into the bathroom, used the facilities and then splashed cool water into his face several times.

He'd hoped to find some clarity away from the press of people, but nope, he was still confused as to why he and the others had been invited to this particular party. While talking to the other hopefuls about their impending tests and plans for the future had been genuinely stimulating and even inspiring, Lydia's conspicuous distance was making him nervous. The longer she kept ignoring him, the more it looked like Peter had been right … and Stiles didn't want Peter to be right.

An incoming text from Erica asking him if he'd drowned shook him from his woolgathering. Thumbing away the message, Stiles straightened his shoulders, looked one last time into the mirror to make sure the washing of his face hadn't made his eyebrows all caterpillar-y, and then reluctantly left his sanctuary.

If he were honest with himself he wanted to go home. Maybe Isaac would agree, or at least tell Stiles that it was okay to leave him behind with Erica and Boyd.

Stiles considered texting Isaac but decided against it. The guy was a mere forty or so yards away; he'd just ask him himself.

To have some more moments of relative quiet, Stiles went back out of the front door to again take the long way around the house. He'd just turned the first corner and was about to enter the little colourful garden the Martin family's talented gardener had planted when a vision in a white gossamer dress with sparkling sequins and dark pink belt and high-heels arrested him.

"Hello Stiles," Lydia said, looking him over appraisingly. Her voice was low and sultry, just like in all the fantasies Stiles had ever had since discovering what his dick could do. "I thought I'd never find you alone. Do you have a moment for me?"

End of chapter 38