Peter did not get drowned that night.

After Derek had left, Peter closed the dripping faucet before he went back into the house, deep in thoughts. Derek was worried about Stiles, he got that, but the fact alone that he'd showed up made it clear that Stiles hadn't said no, yet, he was still thinking about meeting Talia.

In the morning Peter found a message from Stiles waiting for him.

We need to talk. Coffee?

Stiles had sent the message at four in the morning so when he replied Peter didn't expect an immediate answer but Stiles was typing just a second later.

Peter had asked when and where to which Stiles answered: Now?

Quickly followed by: Or did you have breakfast already?

We can do this later

Up to you

Peter read the incoming messages with an amused smile and answered that now was fine.

When he came downstairs, most of the pack was gathered around the table, the smell of fresh coffee filled the air while everybody was trying to get awake enough for the day. Erica was sleeping with her head on the table, though. Peter wished them all a good morning but when Talia reached for the pot of coffee to fill a cup for him, he stopped her.

"Sorry, but I'm seeing someone for breakfast."

"Aww." Deborah made while Isaac was making kissing noises at him. The more mature ones at the table just told him to have fun and went back to their breakfast. Talia refused to meet his eye but he knew that she was holding her breath for Stiles' decision.

"Text me," she said.

"Of course." And with that Peter left.

Stiles had suggested a diner which according to him had the best pancakes in town. Peter had been there a few times so he knew that Stiles was right but he'd still hesitated to confirm the location. Erica worked there. She would be only in after school so she wouldn't be serving them but he feared that word would get around to her. He was her uncle, kind of, everybody at the diner knew that.

But Stiles wanted pancakes and Peter didn't want to make this more difficult for him than it already was so he'd agreed.

The morning rush was in full high, everybody wanted coffee on their way to work and the ones with more time had pancakes for breakfast. When Peter entered the diner, he didn't spot one empty table but he didn't spot Stiles either. Maybe he was running late. Peter had no doubt that Stiles wanted to tell him his decision and however he'd decided, he might be dreading the moment he'd have to tell Peter.

"Peter."

Peter turned around, scanning the crowd for a familiar face.

"Over here," Stiles said in a normal voice that would have gotten lost in the noises all around him but it was easy to pick up for Peter. And Stiles didn't have to yell like an idiot to get his attention.

Stiles had gotten himself a table and was already half-way through his first coffee when Peter joined him. At least Peter hoped it was his first coffee. The way Stiles was fidgeting and how he'd already plucked apart a napkin it could very well be his third.

"Morning," Peter greeted him which got him a tired look. Stiles had bags under his eyes, Peter doubted that he'd gotten much sleep last night.

"I need pancakes first," Stiles said before Peter could say anything else.

So they sat in silence, Stiles still ripping apart the poor napkin, until their waitress found her way over to them. She poured Peter a coffee and refilled Stiles' cup before she took their orders. Peter went for a short stack but Stiles had the double with extra butter and two kinds of syrup.

"You're going to die from a caffeine-sugar overdose," Peter predicted darkly but Stiles just waved him off.

"Even if I could die from that, it would take way more to kill a person with caffeine than this." He held up his cup. "I've read online about people who ordered drinks with an insane amount of extra shots of espresso but not one where somebody's heart gave out because of it." He threw him a half-hearted smile. "You should ask Erica, bet she has some stories to tell."

"So you know that she works here." That was interesting but not surprising. "Why did you still want to meet here?"

"Like I said, best pancakes in town."

Right on cue, their waitress set their plates on the table. Peter's looked reasonable and he still knew that he would have to fight with the last bites but that he would eat them anyway, the pancakes were that good and totally worth a little stomach ache, but Stiles' plate was just ridiculous.

"Can you even look over that?" Peter asked to witch Stiles straightened up. The stack of pancakes still went up to his chest. Stiles just grinned and reached for his fork.

They ate in silence for a while, Stiles was just shoveling the pancakes into his mouth with butter and syrup glistering on his lips. After a while, Stiles slowed down, the worst of his hunger taken care of.

Peter washed down a piece of pancake with a sip of coffee before he asked: "Have you thought about it?"

He didn't need to elaborate on what he was talking about, there was only one topic hanging over them.

"Yeah." Stiles made and pushed a chunk of pancake around his plate to pick up the syrup. The piece was already soaked and soggy but he pushed it around even more. "If this thing with you goes on I'll have to deal with your pack rather sooner than later. Your kind never comes alone, there's always more people attached to you."

Peter hadn't thought about that, his mind had been more on Talia and what she might do but Stiles had a point here.

"So it comes down to the question if I want to continue this thing with you or not." Stiles let out a sigh and put his fork down.

"Are you breaking up with me?" Peter hadn't expected their conversation to go in that direction. He didn't want to end whatever he had with Stiles and for sure not like this or for this reason. On the outside, he stayed calm but on the inside, he was cursing Talia for forcing Stiles to make a decision like this.

"No." Stiles shook his head. "I like what we're doing. I like you." He paused. "And we still have quite some movies to watch," he added with a little smile but that was gone quickly.

"Same for me," Peter told him to make clear that they were on the same page here.

"So, sooner or later I will have to meet your alpha," Stiles concluded. "And I'd rather do that on my terms and not when she ambushes me in the dairy aisle or something."

"What are your terms?"

Turned out that Stiles had thought about this a lot. He set a time and a place. He wanted to meet Talia for lunch and Peter knew the place he was suggesting. It had an open floor, the tables not too close together, and it had a back door right next to the restrooms. Good choice.

Stiles had picked the upcoming Saturday. If to give himself time to steel up for the conversation or to give Talia time to rearrange stuff to make time for him, Peter did not know. Maybe a little bit of both.

"You and Talia, nobody else of your pack," Stiles demanded next which was still very reasonable.

"She and I are the only ones who even know about you," Peter assured him. Sure, the whole pack knew that he was seeing someone but aside from Talia only Cora knew a name and could put a face to it but Cora still didn't know about Stiles' background.

"And I'm going to bring Derek."

"Why?" Peter asked. Stiles' other demands, he'd expected or even would have suggested himself, but bringing Derek was something else.

"I'm not going to face her alone," Stiles said, his expression stony. "Sorry, you don't count. You'll be on her side. You're her beta and her left hand, on that day you won't be on my side." He seemed sad about that fact but it warmed Peter's heart that he counted him on his side the rest of the time.

"It would be two against one and that's not fair. So, Derek."

"That's not what she wants." Peter picked up his fork again.

"Too bad, it's what she's going to get." Stiles followed suit and stuffed that soggy bit of pancake into his mouth.

Peter had met Derek a few times now and at first, he'd been the scary lake creature he was supposed to be but by now Peter had seen glimpses of his softer side. Stiles was calling him a friend and especially after his encounter with Derek last night, Peter was starting to see that.

"Talia is going to throw a fit," Peter said.

"And you're looking forward to it, you can't fool me."

Peter didn't deny that.

With that out of the way, they moved on to other topics while they were slowly eating their way through their pancakes. Looked like John had been right, Stiles needed something to chew on when he was stressed but now with that off his chest, it became clear that he was not only a stress eater. Stiles was a relief eater as well. He did clear his plate.

Peter asked if Stiles had plans for the day but he shook his head.

"I better get back out to the lake before people start to wonder why I'm not in school," he said with a look around. The morning rush was dying down and there were only a few people left. There was no other teenager in sight. "But I'll text you. If John's schedule doesn't change, I have the house for myself on Friday. How about another movie night?"

Peter agreed easily to that and then he watched Stiles leaving in that beat-up jeep of his.

Like promised, Peter texted Talia that Stiles had agreed to meet her and that they would talk later. Later turned out to be close to midnight when everybody else had turned in for the night.

"So, what did he say?" Talia asked once the house had quieted down and they were alone in the living room.

"He's willing to meet you but under his conditions."

Like excepted she was fine with most of Stiles' conditions. She would have to toggle another appointment she had on Saturday but that shouldn't be a problem.

"And Derek is going to be there as well." Peter let the cat out of the bag.

"Wait what? No! We can't bring him somewhere with people," Talia hissed. "What if he ...," she started but ended the sentence with a vague gesture.

"What if he what?" Peter asked. "He's not going to just kill random people."

"He's a creature."

"So are we."

She didn't know what to say to that.

"He's not unreasonable." Peter tried to placate her. "He's worried about Stiles."

"You don't know that."

"Actually, I do. He was here last night." Peter leaned back in his seat. He was enjoying this maybe a bit too much.

"He was what?" Now red bled into her eyes. "Why didn't you alarm us?"

"He appeared in the bathroom upstairs." The one that was close to several bedrooms, hers included.

"Did he threaten you? What did he want?"

"He wanted to know what your intentions with Stiles are," Peter answered truthfully. "May I remind you, he could have come for you directly. He could have threatened or killed you but he came to me and you know why?"

She was still trying to wrap her head around the fact that somebody had broken into their house, their den, last night without anybody noticing.

"Because he knows me. He knows that I care for Stiles. That's why he came to me and simply asked instead of threatening you."

"Is there a way to keep him out?" She asked, ignoring the rest for now. "What if he comes back? What if he comes for somebody else? For Emily?"

"He comes through the pipes." Peter shook his head. "As I see it, he can get wherever he wants. If you're near a faucet, he can get to you."

"There has to be a way to keep him out."

"There probably is," Peter agreed. "But so far I haven't figured out what exactly he is and without that information …" He spread his hands. There were a few herbs and runes but the house was already fortified with most of them. "And if we were able to keep him out of the house, would you just never go near a faucet anywhere ever again?"

"We should get rid of him." She growled.

"He's been quietly living next door without us even noticing for decades," Peter reminded her. In the beginning, he'd thought the same. Get rid of the potential threat before it could become an actual threat but now he was thinking differently. "Just talk to them."