"So, um, about last night…" Stiles started to say once he was standing in front of the cafeteria table Ana occupied, and when she didn't look up he sighed and continued, "thanks."

Ana turned the page of the warn paperback she was reading, ignoring him. Stiles had tried a couple times to talk with her since the debacle a couple weeks back at the diner and had received similar cold treatment. It bothered him more than he thought it would, and he was beginning to realize it was because he felt guilty about the whole thing.

"And I know you're not going to say anything but I also wanted to apologize about, you know, what happened at the diner. I just… was trying to look out for my friends. A vast majority of the time other supernaturals come to BH usually end up trying to kill us, but I was pretty shitty about it to you," the words spilled out of Stiles with sincerity and he shouldered his backpack to go sit with Scott and Allison, but movement made him stop.

Ana put her book down and looked him dead in the eye. "Do you make a habit of risking yourself like that?"

Stiles blinked, thinking. "Yeah… it usually happens that way."

She continued to look at him angrily, but for once Stiles stood still, not even looking down. Unapologetic. Her face softened and she looked down to the table, "Stiles, that's gonna get you hurt someday." Stiles shrugged. A moment passed when she spoke up again, asking why he doesn't go sit with Scott.

"Ah, well… I think he's still mad about last night. So I'm giving him some space. Just me today, no one to sit with… all alone…" Stiles gave Ana his best Scott Puppy Eyes (™) and she actually snorts and giggles.

She regains her breath and looks up to the now grinning Stiles and says: "I'm going to regret this aren't I?" and Stiles plops himself down across from her.

Over the next month or so, Stiles gradually worked his way into Ana's good graces. Every now and again, he'd try to talk to Scott or anyone else about her but gave up when all he got were blank, glazed expressions. He even tried to ask Ana what she was using on her friends, but she just frowned and looked down at her feet.

"I'm not using anything on them, Stiles."

"But I don't get why you're hiding from them!" Stiles exclaimed, earning a stern hush from the school's librarian.

"I'm not hiding from them," she said quietly, her tone defensive.

"Then why?"

Ana brought a hand to her face and covered her eyes with exasperation, "can't you just accept I've got my reasons?"

Stiles chose not to comment and let it drop, for the time being. Mostly because he truly believed that she didn't have any intentions of harming his friends, or anyone for that matter. If Stiles had any real sense to him he should've been satisfied with then and there, as it was fairly obvious she didn't struggle to control her inner wolfy nature.

Life went on. There was a crisis or two, a few hunters up to no good and one incident with a malicious ghost haunting the school gym, but nothing too outrageous. The only real issue Stiles had turned out to come from Frowny McCreeper Wolf.

One Friday night, after he had dropped Ana and Janice off at Ana's small house after school (Stiles had formally introduced Janice and Ana and they were becoming friends pretty easily), he walked up his stairs to find Derek brooding in his room. "You know," Stiles started as he threw his backpack to the floor, "there's this thing called a cell phone and you can text people and let them know when you're stopping by. It's all the rage with kids today, you should try it." Before Stiles could turn around, he found himself shoved against the wall, his personal space invaded by a growling Derek.

"Why do you smell like the wolf I can't track down?" Derek ground out, full out glaring at Stiles.

Stiles sighed and slumped against the wall. As Stiles brought his hands to his face and wiped them down over his eyes, the tired expression took Derek by surprise. "Derek, we've been through this twice now. I've told you, I've tried to get it through to you, to Scott, to everyone." And it seemed to Derek suddenly how guilty Stiles looked.

"What do you mean, Stiles? What are you hiding from m- the pack?" Derek struggled to keep a somewhat even tone as the wolf snapped just below the surface, confused and frustrated.

Stiles actually flinched but shoved at Derek as he shouted; "Nothing! I'm not hiding anything from you! or Scott! or anyone!" Stiles added quickly. "I've tried! I really have! I asked her why, asked her how she is covering up and she won't tell me! And I'm sorry ok?"

Derek watched Stiles carefully, and even though he knew the guy leaning against the wall wasn't lying, he was too on edge to let it go. All he could think about was that Stiles was covering up something and he wasn't trusting him. A voice deep down told Derek he was being stupid, but the distress in Stiles' face was causing him too many emotions too fast for him to sort out…

"Derek…" Derek didn't realize that he'd closed his eyes and that his whole body was tense. He opened his eyes and saw a weird mix of concern and maybe fear on Stiles' face and it made his gut drop. Stiles hands had dropped down to his sides again at some point, but now they were hovering awkwardly in the small space between them, and almost looked like he might be reaching out to Derek.

"Fine." Derek pushed away, crossed the room, snapped open the window, and left.

Stiles looked down to his empty hands and slid down the wall until he was sitting down. He let his hands rest on his knees and let his head thump against the wall. "Fuck," he whispered to himself.