So...things are weird. Like, really weird - pretty much on par with that time her dad walked in on her personal times, which is something that no father should ever see. Add a dash of extra awkward, what with her being the reason her dad is now pulling unemployment benefits. Casa Stilinski is not a happy place at the moment, for sure. At least, Scott seems to be doing better with the whole Allison thing; but he's pretty much the worst best friend at the moment because he refuses to answer his phone.
Derek is also MIA, but at least he's got very good reasons: things like her dad being home all the time, and getting the werebabies ready for the full moon. There's also the whole hiding from the Argents who, now more than ever, are planning his bloody, grisly death. Which is so unfair because Derek has yet to break the code...if you don't count that whole burninating and throat ripping situation with Peter. And Stiles? She totally does not count it. In fact, she ignores the ever living shit out of it, because thinking about the fact that her not-boyfriend murdered his uncle is freaking traumatizing. So she focuses on the hunters problem, and how the hell she can fix it when no one from the Argent family is cooperating.
So, saying that Stiles is surprised to find Allison at her front door is a massive understatement; especially since Allison is not so much her friend, as she is the girl Scott moons over in the most pathetic of ways.
"Hi," Stiles greets awkwardly.
"Hey," Allison shuffles her boot clad feet for a moment.
"Manners!" Her dad shouts from the living room.
"Welcome, friend of mine. Would you like to enter our humble abode and perhaps partake of some refreshment?" Stiles even bows, because she does not do things halfway. Allison half smiles and steps past her into the house.
"Overdoing it!" Her dad yells, and she hears him turn off the tv and shuffle off into the kitchen.
"No soup for you!" Stiles shouts back. This is what passes for family communication between her and her dad nowadays; they bark at each other from different rooms. Or at the tv. And to be perfectly honest, her dad has mostly been yelling at the TV, not only because he's still so disappointed with Stiles, but also because now that he's unemployed, he watches a lot baseball, the one sport Stiles does not care for. Stiles firmly believes there is a higher standard of athleticism in other sports (and by standards, she means men she would like to fuck in all kinds of dirty positions.)
"Sorry," Stiles smiles at Allison and shrugs; not really willing to explain the whole yelling thing.
"Um, no it's cool," Allison fidgets, looking around a little desperately. Never let anyone say that Stiles cannot take a hint. This is obviously time for some girl on girl action...of the emotional kind. That would probably mean tears, and their man cave of a living room is just not conducive to that sort of thing. Not that her room is any better, but at least she's got tissues up there. And a handy window to throw herself out of, in case the situation gets too weepy for her and she needs an escape route. And oh god, she's turning into emotionally constipated Derek, who races away at the merest sign of soft emotions.
"Why don't we go to my room?" Stiles offers, leading the way.
Allison looks at Stiles' room with a tentative eye. Stiles wonders what Allison thinks of the comic book collections, dirty clothes on the floor, random band posters and utter lack of feminine frippery. Stiles watches other girl make a circuit of the room and look at a few of the posters, before stopping at the snowboard cut out.
"You snowboard?" Allison asks with a shy smile, one that she normally only gives Scott.
"Badly," Stiles admits. She would be better if they had the money to go more often. So, she goes once every handful of years and falls down the mountain and relearns how to carve all over again. It's another one of those things on her bucket list of 'what to do when I win the lottery,' and the thought is so bitter that it surprises even her. "So, um, what's up?"
"I'm mad at Scott," Allison blurts out, then puts a hand over her mouth, as though shocked at herself.
"Hey, whatever. That's my normal state of being when it comes to Scott. But you like him in a non-bro way, so I'm guessing he did something particularly heinous," Stiles grins, then takes a seat in her computer chair while waving at Allison to sit on the bed.
"He yelled at me," and this is an actual surprise. Scott never yells at anyone - well, except at Stiles, but that doesn't count because that's apparently the best way to get through to her. She has no problems admitting this.
Stiles chews on her lip and says, "It's just that Scott is not actually a human; he is a potato. A very cute, loveable, harmless, delicious root vegetable best served in curly fries format. He isn't capable of strong emotions beyond confusion, and, occasionally, goofy adoration."
"Well, he was really mad the other night. Furious even," Allison looks like she's moving beyond shock and towards mad. Hopefully, not 'going to pull out the crossbow' levels.
"Wait. The other night? As in the rave, the other night?"
"Yeah," Allison nods and fiddles with her skirt. "He hasn't spoken to me since."
"Scott's been feeling like death warmed over since that night, to tell you the truth. Really! There was like some kind of wolfsbane explosion and he has been semi comatose since that night," Stiles explains hurriedly, trying to convince Allison of the truth.
"Oh!" Allison's face morphs into worry and shame all at once.
"No, it's cool. You should totes be still mad at him no matter what. He needs you to be mad at him every once in awhile - how else is he to learn his lesson?" Stiles is making a muck of this, she can tell.
"Okay," Allison nods, relaxing against the bed. Stiles is glad to see that the other girl is starting to smile again. And because she's Stiles and she loves to ruin things, she opens her mouth to talk some more.
"Just, please don't end up dating creeper Matt instead, because I will have to punch myself in the face if you do," Stiles tells the other girl. "Or, I might have to make Derek punch me, and he's really strong, and that last time that happened it really freaking hurt, and then his uncle tried to kill me. So, really, I don't want a repeat performance," Stiles knows the words are just vomitting out, and she tries to swallow them back, but damnit, it's hard, and she needs to get off this metaphor because it's making her literally sick to her stomach.
"Derek hit you?" Allison goes back to looking homicidal. Stiles can't decide if she's pleased that Allison feels that protective of her, and freaked out that she may have just put a hit on Derek.
"No, wait, let me explain! It was last semester, before things started between us. We were trying to find the Alpha after that whole chainsaw massacre in the school. Not that anyone died, but being locked in there was creepy as fuck. So, we were trying to figure out who sent you that text, except I am not that great of a hacker. I mean I can jailbreak like the best of them," Stiles pauses for a breath before continuing, "So I called Danny over here under false pretenses, and then tricked Derek into taking of his shirt and remaining shirtless so that Danny could stare at him. Derek did not appreciate being used as bait, so he slammed my head against my steering wheel. But Peter slammed my head into a car, which is so much worse. At the time, I was, like, legit kidnapped, so it par for the course. But thinking back, Derek has always been really rough with me. Still is," Stiles winds down and lets the torrent of words trickle to a halt. She also tries to keep the dirty grin off her face, but wasn't totally successful, judging by Allison's expression.
"Right. Ok, rough stuff, huh. So, um, you guys, uh. You and Derek have, umn...?" Allison's face was brightly pink and oh man, how is it possible for a human being to be this adorable yet so, so hard to understand? Here she is, trained to hunt and shoot monsters, yet is completely unable to ask if she and Derek have rough sexy times? Stiles makes a mental note to go out and buy a book on deciphering girls. Because boys? Boys are easy. Look at Scott! And Isaac's cheekbones speak volumes. Boyd doesn't have emotions. And her dad is an open book. Derek is a bit more complicated; the eyebrows throw her off sometimes because he might be saying no, but the brows, they say OH YEAH .
"I would go so far as to say that it's really the main dish being served. There's been, like, two concrete instances of no rough housing," Stiles admits because she has no shame. Look, she went from unwanted virgin to fucking Derek Haleif she could, she'd buy a billboard and put up a picture of shirtless Derek with an arrow pointing to his abs and a headline that reads in all caps "I LICKED IT AND IT IS AMAZING. SO IS HIS PENIS!"
"Wow," Allison breathes, impressed.
"Is that weird? Am I oversharing? I don't really have the greatest handle on normal girl talk," Stiles babbles, suddenly uncomfortable aware that maybe talking about her sexual escapades with a girl who is essentially a stranger might not be such a fantastic idea.
"I don't really know, I mean maybe?" Allison shrugs uncomfortably. Stiles decides to bulldoze on ahead anyway, because that's how she rolls.
"Okay, so you say that, but what I hear in my head is 'Rough sex, Stiles? I don't understand! Because when Scott and I romp in the magical forest, it is always tender and filled with butterflies and rainbows. And soon one day we shall have a glorious ceremony to celebrate our love. Because I am a Disney Princess.' " Stiles uses her best falsetto and is rewarded with a snort of laughter from Allison.
"Disney Princess? Really?" Allison asks through her laughter.
"Nah, I'm just convinced that everyone else got to go to princess training when they hit puberty, but they forgot about me because I didn't have a mom to sign me up," Stiles replies absently. Allison gets a pained expression, and Stiles knows she is going to apologize, which Stiles really hates. The point of bringing her mom up in conversation is not to make everyone else feel bad, but to make Stiles feel closer to her mom; like, she's still part of Stiles' life even if she wasn't physically around anymore. "Anyway, can we go back to talking about sexual proclivities? I find that it's a more interesting conversational thread; we can compare techniques and maybe trade tips? I've been reading some really ridiculous shit - and I want to know if anyone has actually tried any of that stuff in real life."
"Altoids and oral sex is a bad combination without a condom, Scott totally broke out in hives because his penis is sensitive," Allison blurts out, then freezes, wide-eyed.
"Uh," Stiles knows her eyes are just as huge, staring right back. Then two of them break out into a fit of giggles and Stiles finally relaxes.
"But seriously, you two are alright?" Allison asks in a more serious tone. Stiles is warmed at how Allison is worried about her.
"I guess? I mean, we aren't dating or anything. Oh god, even saying those words feels wrong in my mouth, ah! Get it out. Gross teen feelings are exiting my orifices!" Stiles gags and Allison giggles. "If labels are necessary, then we're fuck buddies at the best of times, and frenemies at the worst."
"Oh," Allison tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and fidgets a little.
"That's not a good 'Oh.'" Stiles tilts her head and stares at Allison. "Spill."
"It's just that Scott was really convinced that you and Derek were together," Allison explains. "He was upset and was yelling at me about it the other night."
"Wait, he yelled at you about Derek and me?" Stiles doesn't get it.
"Partly; he went on about how I was messing up the plan, and I wasn't supposed to be there, and was ruining everything. Oh and he couldn't stay because if he left you alone long enough you would fuck Derek," Allison is getting angrier with each word, and Stiles is right there with her. Stupid Potato Scott and his stupid face!
"Seriously? He's such a jerk! I'm joining the 'Mad at Scott' club, and I want to be Vice President!" Stiles stands up and walks over to Allison, "Club President Allison, I say we make the stupid idiot pay for his crimes, painfully and for much longer than is perfectly necessary," Stiles grins her most evil smirk, and Allison grips her hands and smiles back.
Maybe this whole girl bonding thing isn't as hard after all. She could get used to having a girl friend.
Derek slides the window open and climbs into the room to find Stiles alone on the bed with the most malicious smirk on her face. Derek almost dives right back out the window, his senses shrilling with alarm. It's all he could do not to take a step back. He can smell Allison's scent in the air and wonders why the Argent girl had visited. But his thought processes are derailed when Stiles turns her head to look at him; the smirk on her face changing into the bawdiest leer outside of truly terrible Victorian porn. It should be hilarious; instead, Derek decides that retreat is the better part of valor.
"I...can come back later. Uh, much later," Derek says cautiously, reaching back to find the window, unwilling to turn his back on the suddenly predatory Stiles. He can hold out for sex until after the full moon. He'll just come back when Stiles doesn't look like she is plotting world domination, or castrating Scott. Neither of which are mutually exclusive.
so I was trying to do this meta thing with this chapter where Stiles talks about how the doctors mixed up her gender as a baby and they thought she was a boy, as a kind of nod to the fact that this is a gender swap fic.
H pretty much slapped that down like the hand of god. so that was fun.
also thank H for editing all this shit even though she has yet to watch any of season two. so we keep fighting about things randomly because i quote something, or reference something and then she deletes it. and i have to put it back. and i hate touching the story after handing it off.