Stiles hadn't kept up with the Hale pack for quite a while but now he read the dossier John had on the pack, Peter's official file and every newspaper article that mentioned a Hale.

They were pillars of the community. Talia, the alpha was involved with the town's council, several members of the family were active in the community and it looked as if half the town belonged to a Hale one way or the other.

Over the years the pack had taken in several teenagers. The details were not publicly known but John hinted at an abusive background for that Lahey kid and Denise said something about medical bills Erica's mother couldn't pay. The latest addition to the pack was a teenager named Boyd but neither John nor Denise knew much about him. Stiles' best guess was that he got bitten by accident or had to be bitten in an emergency situation.

The Hales were good people, that's what Stiles got out of what he read and heard about them. Except for Peter. As a teenager, he had been kind of a troublemaker but he had calmed down over the years. Denise liked him a lot and she even mentioned that he had been reading old newspaper articles as well just the other day.

"Something about the lake." Denise dismissed his question when Stiles wanted to know what Peter had been looking for. But she had been called away before Stiles could find out more.

Chewing on his pencil Stiles had continued his research but he couldn't help but wonder if Peter Hale was looking for him as well.

From what Stiles found out about him, Peter didn't work. He had finished school with impressive grades, had gone Ivy League with two semesters in England but he had never really worked a day in his life. At least not as far as Stiles knew of.

"He works from home," Denise said when Stiles asked her about that. But what exactly he was doing, she couldn't tell either.

Stiles' money was on some kind of left-hand thing for the pack. If he was right than Peter was the one who took care of any threat to the pack. He was the one who got his hands dirty to keep them safe.

They had met over a dead body after all.

"Do you see me as a threat?" Stiles wondered. It had been a few days and so far he hadn't seen the werewolf. Hadn't Denise mentioned him, Stiles wouldn't even know that he was still in town. But from what he now knew about the werewolf, Stiles didn't peg him for somebody who would run. Most likely he was waiting for Stiles' next move. Not that Stiles intended to do anything.

He hadn't told John and as long as no body was found and no missing person report regarding that man came in, he wouldn't. As far as Stiles knew the man had been another werewolf or maybe a hunter, nothing the normal world needed to know about. Besides, he really didn't want to get involved in pack business.

So Stiles went back to his normal routine with dinners with John, the occasional visit at the station and his trips to the library.

"So." Denise cornered him when he was checking out the shelf with the latest Scandinavian murder mysteries, those had been popular for quite a while but he'd only discovered them recently and now he was hooked. He'd read his way through Stieg Larsson and was now checking out what else was there.

"Hm?" Stiles wasn't sure what he should make out of the situation.

"You and that Hale girl ..." She gave him a knowing smile.

"Me and what Hale girl?"

"Cora," Denise prompted.

It took him a moment to get what she was implying.

"There is no me and a Hale girl," Stiles squeaked and almost dropped the book he'd been eyeing. "I don't know any Hales and I don't want to know any Hales. Certainly not a Hale girl."

He'd read the name Cora Hale in John's file but she was sixteen and not the guy who had been at his cabin with a dead body in the middle of the night so he hadn't spared her a second thought. Even if he got in trouble with the pack, Cora would be the last one he would be wary of.

"I see," Denise said with a knowing smile.

"Who's saying that there's a me and a Hale girl thing?" Stiles almost yelled. "Because there isn't. I don't even know her. We've never met. The only Hale I've met lately is Peter and that's enough Hale for a while thank you very much."

"Hope he didn't give you too much grief," she said in a sympathetic voice that left Stiles even more confused. "Don't let him discourage you. You and Cora do what you want to do and don't let some overprotective uncle drive you apart."

"I'll keep that in mind," Stiles said because he didn't know what else he was supposed to say to that. Because what the fuck.

Stiles drove back out to the lake, still fuming. Why was Peter spreading rumors about him? Where was this even coming from? Because just like he'd told Denise he didn't know any Hales and he had no interest in getting to know them.

At the cabin, Stiles struggled with the door. Again. John had promised to come out to fix the hinges but he had to pull double shifts because two of his deputies had called in sick and he had nobody but himself to cover for them. Maybe over the weekend. Until then Stiles had to struggle with a not cooperating door. At least it wasn't winter so it didn't matter that it wasn't closing properly. The little draft was quite nice, actually.

Still huffing, Stiles dropped his bag with the books on the bed and had another look at them. Which one to start with?

"So, you're Stiles."

Stiles jumped and dropped the book on his foot.

"Dammit," he cursed, jumping on one foot. "What's with you and the breaking in?"

The cabin was small, almost tiny, but Stiles didn't have a real look around when he'd come in. Peter must have been standing by the stove. Or he had been up in the rafters like a creeper.

"The door was open," Peter offered.

"Har har," Stiles made. "You still owe me for that."

Peter stepped out of the shadows.

"What do you want?" Stiles asked when Peter failed to say anything. At the moment he was inspecting the books Stiles had on his shelf. Which weren't many. He didn't have much room to store them and at the library, he got them for free.

"Stiles Stilinski," Peter finally said.

"That's me," Stiles confirmed, gesturing at himself. "And?"

"You were not lying when you said that you know the sheriff." Peter turned towards him. "But he's not your uncle. I checked. John Stilinski doesn't have close family and none of the family he has lives on this side of the country. Same for the relatives of his late wife. In fact, there is nobody by the name Stilinski living anywhere around here."

"Your point is?"

"My point is that I don't know who you are." Peter stepped closer. "But you know about me and my family. I don't like that."

"You know, it's kind of funny." Stiles shook his head. "The deputies never questioned my relationship to John, they just took his word for it. And then you come along and blow my cover."

"I haven't blown anything," Peter reminded him. "Yet." His eyes wandered down Stiles' body.

"Careful." Stiles closed the gap between them. "You might put more into your mouth than you can swallow."

They were only inches apart now, Stiles felt Peter's breath on his skin when the other man huffed out a laugh.

"You're not easy to intimidate."

"What do you want?" Stiles held his gaze. He didn't know what the werewolf was up to, maybe he did come here to get rid of a loose end, but Stiles would not back down.

"What are you, Stiles?" Peter asked with a tilt of his head that told Stiles that he was listening to more than just his words.

"None of your business."

"I have to keep my pack safe." Peter broke eye contact and took a step back. He moved around Stiles and picked up the book which Stiles had dropped on his foot. Carefully, he put it back to the others. "Are you a threat to my pack?"

"I don't care about your pack." Stiles felt his voice rising. "You were the one who came here. With a dead body. You wanted to dump your trash in my cabin. I didn't start this."

"True." Peter gave him a nod.

"But you know about me and my pack," Peter continued. "And you don't like us." He paused, probably waiting for Stiles to explain himself but for once in his life, Stiles didn't feel the need to fill the blank.

"Are you a hunter, Stiles?"

"I'm not part of your war if that's what you think," Stiles answered. "But just FYI I don't want hunters snooping around here either."

"I see." Peter gave him a little half-smile as if that statement had confirmed something for him.

"You should leave now," Stiles said and made a point of taking out his phone. "You're trespassing, I should call the sheriff."

"I could kill you before you even hit the first number."

Stiles gave him an unimpressed look.

"If you keep threatening to kill me without following through with that, nobody will take you serious any longer," Stiles told him. "You know, it's a crying wolf kind of thing."

"Maybe I should just do it, then." Peter stepped closer again. For a second Stiles was sure that he would snatch the phone out of his hand but he didn't. "Slash your throat and get it over with."

Stiles set his jaw and looked him straight in the eye.

"You would regret that." Stiles wasn't sure who would get to Peter first, John or Derek, but he knew without a doubt that Peter would regret trying to kill him. Some of that must have translated into his expression because Peter backed off without slashing his throat. Good because that would have sucked.

"How old are you, Stiles?" Peter changed the topic.

"Worried that I'm jail bait?" Stiles shot back but he had to give him kudos for still trying to get information out of him.

"I think you're way older than you look." Peter gave him another up and down. "You're not a fae, are you?"

That made him laugh.

"I've been called a fairy before but no, I'm not a fae."

The relieved expression on Peter's face which he didn't even try to cover up made him laugh again.

"You thought I was fae?" Stiles couldn't help it, he couldn't keep a straight face. "That's what you came up with?"

"Since you're not giving me anything …" Peter spread his hands in a helpless gesture.

"Why should I?"

"You know more about me than I know about you."

"That's why you're making things up about me?" His conversation with Denise was still fresh in his mind.

Peter raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

"According to you I'm dating your niece," Stiles reminded him. "You can't just spread rumors like that. I'm not dating a fucking Hale." The rage was back and if Peter didn't wipe that smug expression off his face right now, Stiles would do it for him.

"I needed an explanation why I'm interested in a sixteen-year-old boy. Denise started to think I'm a pedophile." Peter shrugged.

"Sixteen?" Stiles latched onto that. "You think I look like sixteen? Eighteen! I should look at least like I'm eighteen."

"Why eighteen?" Peter asked calmly. He was watching him closely to catch every bit of information he could get out of him, Stiles knew that, but he was done. He just wanted the werewolf gone. He wanted to dig into his books and read the whole night and not care about fucking werewolves in his cabin.

"You want to know why?" Stiles was right in his face. "Do you?" He didn't give Peter the chance to answer. "Because I was eighteen when the Hale pack killed me!"