Chapter 63
"A cabin of truth would be dead useful if we ever have to interrogate someone," Isaac said as he watched Stiles write his runes in the corners of the first of three interrogation rooms the sheriff station had. "I bet Peter will ask you to make one as soon as he's bought a couple more properties. He's taking the whole bolthole thing super seriously after his run-in with the Loco Lolitas."
"Maybe we shouldn't talk about this here," Stiles replied dryly. "What with the police force just a step away and everything."
Isaac shrugged. "You made sure that almost no one's around, and your dad switched off the cameras. Also, you let Derek loose on the front desk crew. His distraction game borders on the unholy, seriously."
"I'll still hurry in case some well-meaning deputy decides to keep us company on our tour." Stiles finished and capped his sharpy. "The grey of the sharpy blends okay with the colour of the wall, but I'd better suggest a fresh paint job. My dad should be able to fund it."
"It doesn't matter if the runes are covered?" Isaac wanted to know. He slid off the table and joined Stiles by the door. "That's pretty great."
Stiles grinned. "Hiding isn't one of nature's best defence strategies for nothing. As long as I know that the runes are in the room, they'll work."
"I foresee an age of virtually no unsolved crime for Beacon Hills," Isaac said with a little snort. "The coming generations of delinquents won't thank you for it."
"Eh, it might teach people to keep their mouth shut," Stiles retorted. "Never a bad skill to cultivate."
They left the room and went into the next, repeating the process quickly and efficiently. It hadn't exactly been pure dumb luck to find all three interrogation rooms empty at this time of the day because two-thousand dollars in Marsha's greedy little brownie hand had seen to an unprecedented 'sale' at her bakery that everyone simply had to take advantage of. It was for in-house customers only, too, so no take-away for the good law enforcement officers that ordinarily would have had better things to do.
Stiles smirked. LEOs were rather predictable, even the FBI guys. Even better, in small cities like Beacon Hills news travelled fast on where to find the best foodstuffs.
Only ten minutes later they were done with the interrogation rooms, exclaimed excitedly over Isaac's positive experience and tentative plans to return for an internship, and left a while later with the promise to buy more danishes for those who really, really couldn't leave their desks, no matter how much they wanted to.
After their return and successful bribery of everyone, they dragged Derek out and all three of them booked it to Peter's apartment, where a late lunch was already waiting for them.
oOo
"The summer's passing so quickly," Stiles sighed, lovingly patting his full belly. Today's fare had been roast vegetables with blue cheese sauce and steak bites. While somewhat unconventional, it had been delicious. "Only four more weeks."
"I'm not looking forward to school either," Isaac agreed. "I like working on things for the shop and our pack comic."
"You need to spend more time just having fun," Peter told them as he expertly served them cups of fragrant espresso to go with their dessert. "No need to look so disbelieving, I'm serious. You've all worked hard and had a lot of excitement in the last month. It's time that you kicked back a little and just had a summer holiday."
"I don't think that's gonna fly," Stiles said mournfully. "The shop is doing pretty well. If we want to keep the momentum, we're gonna have to keep up with production."
"You don't have to do a damn thing," Peter replied mildly. He stirred a spoonful of sugar into his coffee and inhaled the aroma with a pleased hum. "You've already proven that people are interested. I'm responsible for your wellbeing and it is my opinion that you need a little time just for yourself. Plus, my dear nephew has run himself ragged these last few days sending off the orders."
"I don't mind the driving," Derek replied, "but it won't be long until my Camaro won't be enough to carry the mail. We'll have to buy a bigger car soon, something practical that's easily forgotten."
Stiles pursed his lips. It was getting damned hard to ignore Peter's bedroom face … and he increasingly didn't want to, which made it even worse. Isaac certainly liked to remind him of his unfortunate crush at the most inopportune times. "Well, if our esteemed financier thinks so …"
"I do," Peter asserted, lips curling in that blood pressure-raising little grin he had. "You two, and Erica and Derek as well, are delightfully creative, but you'll burn yourself out if you don't learn to pace yourself. Until you can reliably do that, it's my job to remind you to take it easy every now and then. Besides ..." he raised his eyebrows and toasted them with his tiny coffee cup, "the Argent money came through, in just the manner we decided on. We are in no hurry whatsoever to make a profit, and we can hire people as needed as soon as you're done with school."
"Why not sooner?" Isaac asked, confused.
Peter shrugged elegantly. "Call me whimsical, but I do love a good origin story. Instead of blasting right out the gate, it'd be more rewarding to build your reputation slowly. In my opinion, it's better to take your customers on your journey alongside you. It'll stir up excitement and at the same time build up their loyalty."
"We're on a good way already, though," Isaac said. "We've had half a dozen return customers for healing cards and origami wards."
"Customer loyalty doesn't just mean income, it also provides a certain amount of protection," Peter explained. "If people like you and are invested in your vision, they're more likely to reach out if they learn of a threat to you. Such devotion can hardly be overestimated in our circles."
"Huh, that's true," Stiles admitted. "I guess I'm sold. I didn't want my summer to be all about work, anyway. You?"
Isaac grinned. "Yeah, I can get behind that. We'll have one of the best origin stories, dude."
"I wouldn't say no to a slower pace either. I've begun clearing up the garden at the house," Derek added. "I'd like to finish with that and have the area warded before Deaton decides to raid our whole property."
"Yeah, I can see that happening. Just holler and I'll be there, Sourwolf," Stiles said. "Maybe we should design a meme, just for that. Something like Venom Wolf To The Rescue!"
"Venom Wolf is not as cool as you think it is," Isaac snorted. In one gulp, he downed his coffee and finally went to town on his strawberry panna cotta.
Stiles, who was a little shit even on good days, used Lou to snag the little dessert spoon right out of Isaac's hand. Just because he could, he then stole the dessert too and took a healthy bite of what Isaac had left. "It really is that cool, and you know it."
From across the table, Peter was observing their little tousle, his eyes red and his smile fond.
oOo
Working at a slower pace did not mean that there wasn't any work to be done, but as agreed Stiles held off on adding new products to the shop. Instead, he and his friends used their allotted four hours per weekday to build up a stock. At first, their finished bracelets, ward stone sets, and origami animals didn't seem to fill the workshop's shelves at all, until suddenly they did.
It soon became apparent that none of the five had any real talent or desire to truly organise their stuff. Having been rebuffed the week before, Erica again tried to recruit Lydia for their cause, and this time Lydia accepted and promptly came over for an inspection.
When questioned why, she answered, "My parents finally admitted out loud that they're getting a divorce. My mom will be set, but it's questionable whether my sperm donor will keep his promise and pay for my college education. Therefore I need to earn money quickly because I refuse to live on junk food."
"And we refuse to let this place go to the wolves," Stiles said. He showed her the shelves they had filled already. "Right now it's easy to keep up with the admin stuff, but that'll change. We're building up our supply and need to organize. Everyone hates it, so it's gonna be your job."
Lydia pursed her red lips and appraised the workshop. "It's doable. I want a computer and an electronic tracking system. If I'm going to do it, I'm going to do it right. I'll also take over the books. I assume that that's been Isaac's job so far?"
"Yes, it was, and you're welcome to it," Isaac said gratefully. "I'll give you access to the shop's Etsy account. We have a list of what we do and don't offer right now and what each of us excels in."
Stiles rubbed his neck a little self-consciously. "There's a whole folder with information and instructions. That needs to get organized as well. Sorry."
Lydia flicked that away with a dainty wave of her hand. "It'll take me a week at most to make your business as efficient as can be. Now, who will buy me that electronic tracking system?"
Stiles went with Lydia through the shop while his friends worked on their projects and explained their workflow. Lydia mostly listened and made notes, then retreated to the free computer on the corner table away from the large workbench and began to type.
oOo
That same night, Lou once again woke Stiles, murmuring, Blank lizard inside again, not dangerous.
Thanks, buddy. We'll say hello and see how that goes.
"You're back," Stiles murmured sleepily, squinting out of warm eyes at the figure in the shadows. Lou's alpha powers revealed nothing special, only some sort of aura which Stiles interpreted as the heat signature of their visitor. "How are you? Doing good?"
A low hiss sounded through the silent room.
"You know, unfortunately, I don't speak lizard, but I hope that means yes." With mountain ash crawling over his skin, Stiles felt warm and safe. He tapped the end of his bed with his foot. "Why don't you sit down for a bit? I wanna tell you what names I've come up with."
For a long minute, the silence was oppressive, but then the figure slowly inched out of the shadows. First, a bald, scaly head with glowing yellow eyes became visible. The skin was dappled with dark spots and the shark-like teeth were gleaming in the weak light.
"Oh my god, you look like Voldemort wishes he would look like," Stiles blurted.
The lizard man paused, eyes narrowing suspiciously.
"Seriously," Stiles went on. "You look completely badass!" Lou formed a black clawed glove on his hand as he waved the lizard guy closer. "Come on, let me check out the rest of you."
It took a long minute, but the lizard man did come closer and perched himself in a crouch on the very end of Stiles' bed.
"So you look absolutely, if weirdly, awesome," Stiles told him after a thorough inspection. "Your tail is the bomb! How mobile is it? Can you wag it, or use it like a tentacle or what?"
The lizard hissed again and then, to Stiles' surprised delight, waved his tail around and curled it to show off its range of motion.
A grin broke out on Stiles' face. "Fantastic! I have mountain ash and my wolf spirit. His name is Lou. Maybe I can talk him into giving me a mountain ash tail - we could be bros!"
The lizard tilted its head consideringly and then, with a sudden swish, curled its tail around its body so the tip touched Stiles' knee.
"Right now?" Stiles asked. "Uhm, okay. Why not?" You up for this, Lou? I think he wants to play.
Instead of answering in his mind, the mountain ash largely rushed from Stiles' torso and formed into a long panther's tail at the base of his spine that curled along Stiles' folded leg and around the tail tip of their visitor.
"Huh, I can feel that!" Stiles exclaimed, shocked. "You're warm and dry, just like a snake." He concentrated and managed to drag his new tail along the lizard's tail in an exploratory touch. "I gotta say that I love this whole magic gig."
A low hiss cut through the nightly silence and some of Stiles' elation evaporated.
"Aw, you don't?" he asked, disappointed. "What's wrong? Is that why you're here?"
The lizard withdrew its tail and curled it tightly around its feet. To Stiles, he looked almost sullen.
"Okay, so you've got a problem," Stiles managed to say without laughing. Because damn, a sulking lizard dude shouldn't be so funny. "That's okay. I told you, my wards are pretty good, so if you were an evil mofo you wouldn't be here." He recalled the mountain ash and felt it settle over his back like a warm blanket. "I don't know if I can help since you're not exactly verbal, but I can try."
The lizard's yellow eyes bored into Stiles'. It took forever, but finally, he chirped out an enquiring hiss.
"Even if you're just looking for some company, I and my friends are good for that," Stiles promised. "It'd have to be a hush-hush thing since you're unfortunately not looking especially human, but that'd still be better than no friends, right? Also, it wouldn't in any way be because I am ashamed of having a Northern Californian Thicc Skalyboy among my friends, but rather for fear of getting you killed by the police or something. That'd just not be cool, right?"
Lizard guy let out a loud, affronted sounding mrowl which Stiles took to mean that he found his classification as a Skalyboy, Thicc or otherwise, lacking.
Ignoring this, Stiles went on, "So how about we meet in the evenings when I'm alone? I'll tell my friends about you, and once I'm sure that they won't come in with blazing guns, I'll introduce you. Maybe finding you a name can be a team effort. Sound good?"
Apparently, it did sound good because the lizard guy came forward with the same speed as a running gecko and nearly touched Stiles' nose with his barely existent one. He then raised his left hand, palm very straight and sharp claws carefully pointing slightly backwards.
"Oh, we're doing the high-five. Great!" Careful, but with all the enthusiasm he was capable of, Stiles smacked his palm against lizard man's - and nearly fainted from the rush of something that assaulted him.
It might have been a second, it might have been ten minutes, but at last, the strange, warm sensation of snakes slithering through Stiles' whole body passed and his equilibrium returned.
Somewhat.
"You're pack," Stiles whispered, eyes wide and astounded. "I can feel you!"
The lizard tilted his head like he was waiting for something.
"Uhm, thank you. For your trust," Stiles stammered. His breath caught in his chest and he felt faint. "Oh my god, why do people trust me? I'm an asshole, you can ask anyone."
Giving a quiet hiss, the lizard, still so oddly carefully, patted Stiles' knee with his hand.
"Right, do not panic in the face of man-sized lizards looking for a pack," Stiles muttered weakly. "Fuck. My dad will kill me. Uhm." He took a chance and placed his hand on top of lizard guy's. It was warm as well, and oddly smooth, almost like sun-warmed polished pebbles. "Maybe we should call it a night so I can wrap my head around this? If you don't wanna leave, that's fine. If you're pack, I'm not gonna send you away. I just need … a bit of space. Time to think."
This dismissal was seemingly acceptable to the lizard because he retreated, let out another, far warmer sounding hiss, and quietly left through the window. This time, he even took care to draw it closed again, which what?
Not being able to help himself, Stiles rubbed his eyes. It was a feeble attempt to make sense of what had just happened, and just for a second, he thought it all might turn out to be a dream.
But then he noticed his open laptop with the small camera attached to the lid and realized that no, this was not a dream. He really had somehow magically adopted a vicious-looking supernatural lizard. Worse, he had done it almost solely on instinct, without even stopping to think what the others would have to say about it. It wouldn't be fair to blame that on Lou, however. Stiles was just a sucker for outcasts, as was evidenced by his motley crew of new friends.
Looking at the camera and doing his best Bambi impersonation, Stiles said, "Please don't kill me, guys. Dad, you know I've always wanted a pet. It's your own damn fault for not getting me that tortoise back in sixth grade. Good night."
With that, he flopped back down, pulled the bed covers up to his ears and willed himself back to sleep before he could freak out after all.
End of chapter 63
