Another milestone chapter. Yay! And also, sigh. *g*

Stay safe!

Chapter 75

Lydia took it upon herself to make arrangements for the turning party, merely demanding a credit card from Peter to make it happen. She engaged the best catering service in Beacon Hills, placed a huge order with Marsha's Bakery, and also ordered bottled drinks from a delivery service so Peter and Derek wouldn't be saddled with endless grocery runs.

Erica, Isaac, and Danny volunteered to decorate Peter's apartment and promptly went crazy with fairy lights and a banner Isaac would design and get printed for the occasion.

To avoid the somewhat manic action, Boyd sought out Stiles' company at the Stilinski house and more than willingly watched over him as he prepared for Mission: Ward Drop that was going to happen in a couple of days. While he was more the strong and silent type, Boyd had no qualms about asking questions when something interested him.

Seeing Stiles almost completely covered in a seething mass of mountain ash did interest him, a lot.

"What are you doing?" Boyd asked after he'd made himself comfortable on Stiles' bed, eyeing the spectacle. "I can wait for an answer if you need to concentrate."

"No, it's alright," Stiles replied. "I'm just getting acquainted with these newest batches of mountain ash. While I can manipulate it just fine, I found out that magic is supposed to be a two-way street. Meaning that it's ready to do something for me, but ideally, I should be doing something for it in return."

Boyd nodded like that wasn't news to him. "What does it want, this time? More trees?"

"That, and permission to gain more autonomy as our relationship progresses," Stiles replied, tilting his head thoughtfully. "I referred to it as 'men' that first time I sent the ash off and it liked it. Every single grain acts like a soldier, ready and willing to do what needs to be done. Or rather like those penguins from that movie, Madagascar, but, ya know, same difference."

"Is that how all magic users see the mountain ash?" Boyd asked, leaning forward a little and holding a finger into the slowly moving black mass.

"I doubt it," Stiles said, "but it's what I need right now and I guess that's why magic makes it respond that way. This stuff has its own personality, it's amazing. If I didn't have so many other things to do, I could spend hours just communing with it."

Boyd proved his calm tenacity by returning to Stiles' answer to his previous question. "What does more autonomy mean, exactly?"

"You wanna hold it?" Stiles asked, apropos of nothing, and lifted a completely black arm towards the other teen.

A bit perplexed, Boyd nonetheless gamely touched his fingers to Stiles' and remained calm when the mountain ash flooded his dark skin in an eager wave.

"It wants to learn about the pack," Stiles explained when the mountain ash set off to explore Boyd. "I guess one could say it wants to bond to the members, to better help us reach our goals. In return, it wants to be treated as a member as well, I think. Not a hardship with how much it's already doing on our behalf, at least for myself."

"Its main purpose is protection, you said," Boyd murmured, twisting and turning his arm and watching how the ash crawled in every-changing forms over his skin.

"Yeah, that's what it wants to do the most," Stiles agreed. "But it also wants to be … involved. I dunno how else to describe it. It's awake, now, for lack of a better word. And while it wants to help, it also wants to explore the world and find out what else it can do, including forming relationships. Thus, more autonomy, to pursue its own goals."

"Well, you're already using it to dig up holes all around town," Boyd said. "That's pretty damn inventive. With such a friend at our backs, we'd have a huge advantage."

"Yep, my little penguin soldiers are doing great work," Stiles grinned. "I asked them to do it in as random a pattern as possible so no one will notice, especially not the magic users. They're quick, too. I thought I'd have to wait for nightfall, if not proper nighttime, but once I've told them what we need, they set off and have been sending reports ever since."

"Speaking of magic reports, how's the plan with the interrogation rooms coming along?" Boyd asked, stretching both of his arms to the sides to give the ash more room to play. While he still looked calm, his voice now betrayed some of his excitement.

"It's slow-going because I only sent a small troop," Stiles confessed, "but I've since sent reinforcements and there's also been some intake from loose local mountain ash. Not much, but it's helping. My dad's already reporting some lessening of the strain the FBI is putting the station under, thankfully. Say what you will about them, but they do work day and night to contain the locust morons."

Boyd looked at Stiles for a long moment. "Do you need me to buy more of the ash? You're obviously doing good as is, but if it'll help to get them off our backs faster-"

Shaking his head, Stiles interrupted, "That's a really kind offer, but there's no need. Peter is already ordering as much as he possibly can. That stuff isn't as available as one might think, which explains why I had to start with that relatively small amount of ash. He managed to get his hands on a few sacks recently, though, and I'm putting them to good use."

"Good." Boyd placed a hand on Stiles' comforter, allowing the mountain ash to slowly leave him and crawl back to Stiles. "So if the other mountain ash troops are already busy digging holes, what are you having these guys do?"

Stiles smiled wryly. "Well, Beacon Hills isn't as small as it used to be and we'll need protection from sneaky werewolves while I'm setting up the ward. I wish I could keep out the darach as well, but they're probably able to overcome the mountain ash barrier. They did manage that second sacrifice, unfortunately, and who knows who else they'll kill in the future."

"Do you think we could avoid a third?" Boyd wanted to know.

"The wards might help, once they're set," Stiles sighed. "I'll set them in a way that people with ill intent won't feel good inside the ward. They'll feel strongly encouraged to leave, and once they do, they won't feel any better about coming back."

Boyd's eyebrows rose a little. "You can actually do that?"

"Yep. Did it with this house already, otherwise, Jackson's better half wouldn't have been able to get in. Peter's place is warded to the nines as well," Stiles replied easily. "The wards around Beacon Hills will work exactly the same, there's no reason why I shouldn't be able to do it." He narrowed his eyes when Boyd made to speak. "And before you ask, no, I don't feel remotely bad about possibly ruining someone's living situation or employment. The sort of ill intent I'm warding against will only turn away real assholes, like rapists or murderers. Don't feel sorry for them, because I don't."

"Ah." Boyd nodded. "Understood and appreciated."

Stiles sighed. "I'm not trying to make Beacon Hills into a Utopia; I know that that's impossible because humans are ultimately assholes. But I do want us to be able to catch a break. Something's not right, somehow we're getting a huge influx of assholes lately. Once we've had a chance to rest a little, I'll tackle that next. My guess is a curse, but Peter said that's unlikely because the signs are all wrong."

"I'll help with the investigation after Erica and I are back on our feet," Boyd told him. "You might have to do without Erica for a while, though. She's got to make up for some lost time first."

"All factored in," Stiles promised. "Though I hope that you will help with curbing her excesses some. We can't afford to out ourselves, not yet and possibly not ever. School starts in three weeks; we need to be back on an even keel by then."

"It's in the contract," Boyd said agreeably. "Peter's thorough."

Stiles' eyes glazed over in remembrance of their rather thorough kisses. "Mmh, true."

"You've got it so bad," Boyd snorted. "Are you together now, or what?"

Shaking off the pleasant memories, Stiles grimaced. "Don't tell anyone, okay? My dad lives in blissful ignorance and it'd better stay that way until I'm legal. The trials Peter'll have to attend are no joke and he simply can't afford to have his reputation tarnished. It'll be bad enough that a bunch of teenagers are regularly hanging out with him, even if they take Isaac as his ward into consideration."

Boyd nodded his understanding. "The ash looks like it's slowing down. What are we gonna do now?"

"Good of you to ask," Stiles replied, grateful for Boyd's easy acceptance. "Now I'm gonna fortify these troops with silver dust and send them to rest before the mission."

"And that'll be enough against the alphas?" Boyd inquired.

Stiles smirked. "If it isn't, the dusted mistletoe I've already mixed in most certainly will pick up the slack. I'd also put some wolfsbane in, but I don't want to accidentally poison our friends to death if either the darach or that mysterious female magic user decide to fight me."

"Or the druid vet," Boyd stated. "If he's bent on supporting McCall, he's obviously not our friend."

"Right, Deaton." Stiles huffed. "That dude's secret superpower probably is being forgotten quickly."

"Maybe he is using magic for that," Boyd agreed. "You should find out and do something about it."

Stiles gave him the hairy eyeball. "No lecturing about letting people have their magical privacy or whatever?"

"Do I look like an idiot?" Boyd countered with a raised eyebrow, very clearly meaning 'Do I look like McCall?'. "The way I see it, Beacon County is Peter's territory. If you're acting as his ambassador or whatever, what you decide is the law, magic-wise. It might impact mundane folks too, but who's gonna complain about a lack of murderers?"

Stiles paused. "Right. I probably should get used to that already."

"At least you're not interested in sacrifices," Boyd said, dead-pan.

"Hah, that's where you're wrong!" Stiles crowed, making the sluggish mountain ash begin its restless wandering over his body anew. "I'm always good for gas money and chocolate. Or burger menus. Lou's always hungry, I'm not even joking."

"Who isn't," Boyd replied, unimpressed. "My point is, if your magic is helping to keep criminals away, I'm all for it." He paused, considered for a moment, and then added, "Almost no questions asked."

"Only almost?" Stiles asked, a little hurt.

"We haven't been friends long yet," Boyd said with a little shrug. "Give it a year."

Stiles perked up at that and grinned. That, he could do!

oOo

The night before Stiles would place the wards, Danny hacked into the city's surveillance systems and set up a recording to a burner laptop with sufficient storage.

"The computers for hacks could be better," Danny said as he led the others on a virtual tour through Beacon Hills. Since it was shortly after dusk and the city's budget for security wasn't the largest, the quality wasn't the best, but it was good enough to detect strangely behaving people. "I could send you some stats for the next generation."

"Mmh. Who's that clown?" Peter said and pointed to a large male that was walking with a small group of friends and waving his arms like an idiot.

"Oh, that's just Greenberg," Isaac informed him. "Looks like he's high on weed. Again."

"At least he doesn't seem to be drunk," Lydia sniffed. "Finstock's repeated rejections have been taking their toll on him."

"I believe in love," Jackson said stoutly when Stiles looked expectantly at the holder of the betting pool. "It's not healthy, but everyone needs someone."

"They do not if one of those someones is Greenberg," Boyd declared. "That guy is a menace. You should dissolve the bet."

They all winced when Greenberg stumbled against a street lantern and managed to land himself and one of his companions on their faces as he tried to avoid getting brained at the last second.

"Not before Finstock gets a restraining order or I leave school," Jackson insisted. "There are more than five thousand dollars in that pot."

Stiles stared. "Yeah, no way is that bet getting dissolved."

"Good," Erica chimed in, "because I placed one as well and want to know how it ends."

"Can we move on?" Danny asked impatiently. "My family expects me at ten and I still need to show you how to operate the system without getting caught."

The group was still somewhat giggly when they left the unfortunate and unlucky-in-love Greenberg behind and checked out all the other points of interest. The perimeter of Beacon Hills, Danny had kept for last, and for good reason.

"As you can see, we don't have a lot of coverage," he said as he slowly clicked through the two dozen or so available feeds and showed on the map where the three patrollers were supposed to go. "Some of the buildings have been abandoned and some of the owners just don't feel the need for surveillance since the buildings are largely empty or in disrepair anyway. I'd think that the alphas or Lobos Locos would try to enter through one of those dark zones. I can watch them and alert you if something happens, but all those parts are remote from the sheriff station."

"The locust wolves probably won't care," Stiles said. "They're prepared to cause havoc, they might not pay attention to such things. My dad will send us the placements of his people and FBI personnel in and around Beacon Hills tomorrow, that'll give us a better idea which areas might be problematic."

"That'll work," Danny agreed. "I'll take care of it."

"Do you have any idea when those Lobo people will attack, Stiles?" Lydia asked. "Your father has had us on alert for weeks; I'd have thought that they'd have tried by now."

"No, sorry," Stiles admitted. "My dad doesn't know either. Several gang members talked about plans to nab me but of course those plans were busted. These last few days there was nothing new."

"Maybe they've finally given up," Derek suggested. "It would be a smart move after all the losses they've suffered."

"Well, after tomorrow they'll have a hard time entering the city, so I'm not too worried about it," Stiles told them. "We'd only need back-up when we leave town for our training, and even then the protections I gave you should keep them away long enough for help to arrive."

"Don't get cocky," Peter warned, casually stepping a little closer to Stiles. His intense presence made goosebumps appear on Stiles' body and Lou began to slither all over him in excitement. "Who knows what's brewing. We can only be certain of our safety when they're all behind bars."

"Or dead," Isaac said and shrugged when Jackson stared at him. "What? Dead means they definitely won't get a second shot at hurting us."

"I don't mind the inconvenience as long as the problem will be dealt with eventually," Lydia said decisively. With an elegant flip, she threw her hair over her shoulder. "Don't take too long, though. I have plans for my life and a stupid gang whose members believe they're wolves is not a part of them."

"Yes, ma'am," Stiles retorted and saluted mockingly. "So, we're all up to speed for tomorrow? Everyone knows which area to watch and what to do in case the undesirables show up?"

A chorus of affirmations sounded and the official part of the meeting ended. While Danny would still have to explain to Peter and Isaac how they could work with the security feed, a festive mood came up. Erica turned on some chill music, Isaac and Boyd produced snacks, and Derek helped by setting out drinks and glasses.

"I do feel a tad selfish by choosing to cover you while you work your magic instead of patrolling with the others," Peter rumbled a little later as he found Stiles by the kitchen countertop, stealing all the pigs in a blanket. He leaned against it, just a hair too close, and smiled smugly. "But then I remind myself that it is the alpha's duty to protect his strongest asset."

"I'm not complaining," Stiles confessed and licked a bit of grease off his thumb. "I trust my men, uh, the ash, but we're still talking four alpha werewolves here. I'm pretty sure that we won't get so lucky as we did in that garage. And it helps to know that Derek, Isaac, and Jackson are on watch duty and not responsible for actual defence."

"We'd need a lot more wolves for that," Peter admitted. "Even if one or even all of them get through, they won't be able to stand it for long. It'll still be a major success for our pack."

Stiles raised his soda bottle. "To our pack."

"And to thwarting our enemies with prejudice," Peter added, leering at Stiles. "Cheers, sweetheart."

oOo

Nothing ever went like it was supposed to. That was the first rule of engagement in Stiles' new, supernatural life, and probably would be until the day he kicked the bucket.

"I knew that they were out there," he hissed while analyzing the intel his mountain ash was feeding him. "And of course they're trying to keep the ward stones from getting buried."

"Slap them away," Peter instructed, voice tense as he listened on the phone while watching out for observers. They weren't exactly hidden in Beacon Hill's smallish city park where Stiles intended to bury the master ward stone. "I know that it's hard from this distance, but you can do it."

Stiles' grit his teeth, sweat running down his face. "I'm trying, but three miles in two directions is pushing it."

Peter placed his hand around the nape of Stiles' neck. "Derek is distracting them and Isaac is almost there. Don't give up now."

Stiles groaned when he forced the mountain ash to rise and slam into Ennis, who'd stolen one purple penis rock, which, incidentally, was Erica's favourite. The minute before, he'd already put one of the twins in his place before he could make off with the stone. While Stiles did have back-ups, he was loath to let them take even one of them.

To his horror, suddenly something was there, slowing down his connection to the mountain ash. It felt like trying to move thick syrup … syrup that seemed to harden more with every passing second.

"Fuck," Stiles gasped. "A magic user. I need Scalyboy or we'll fail."

"Call him, then. Jackson knows to expect it."

Closing his eyes in defeat for a second, Stiles gathered his resolve. "Skalyboy, this is an emergency. Find the magic user that's fighting me and take them out. Don't kill them if possible, but take names. Have Jackson take a picture if at all possible."

"You're too nice," Peter chided mildly. "You should've asked him to take her out of the game permanently. Should I go and help?"

Stiles wanted to cry. "I wish I could, but you're honestly the only thing keeping me from keeling over right now." Inside of him, Lou was howling with fury at the obstruction. His burst of power helped a little to get the ash moving again, but he was far too slow to keep the alphas from digging up more ward stones.

"Is there anything else I can help with?" Peter asked, squatting down now but keeping his hand on Stiles' neck. "Or the others?"

"None of them is strong enough," Stiles groaned, rubbing the sweat from his eyes. "I mean, Lydia probably has a mean right hook even without training, but …" He stopped. Then he raised his tired head to Peter. "Lydia."

Peter looked at him, uncomprehending.

"Lydia's a banshee," Stiles said breathily, already reaching for Peter's phone. "Call her."

Without saying anything, Peter ended his call to Isaac and dialled Lydia.

She accepted after the first ring, asking, "What's wrong?"

"Magic," Stiles gasped. "Someone's blocking me. You've got magic too, you need to bitch slap them into next week."

"I will," Lydia said at once, "if you tell me how."

"Scream," Stiles answered. "Loudly."

End of chapter 75