"Do you think I could?" There was a small hint of hope in Malia's voice, and Stiles saw a flash of gold go through her eyes, fading quickly as her demeanor shifted. "No, I'd scare all the animals away."

"Scott can help you get that under control. You'd be great at being a biologist! There's a class at the community college, so if you don't want to travel far from home, you can go there and work at the bookstore and coffee shop still. You'd still be around pack and you'd still be able to visit your dad. I can come visit you when I visit my dad too."

"That's right! Scott's the vet assistant. Stiles, that's a wonderful idea! Do you think I'd get a roommate? Do you think she'll like me?" Her excitement caused both of them to laugh, and the food came shortly after they stopped. Malia looked at him in surprise when she was given the plate with the extra meatballs but didn't question it as she dug in. Stiles on the other hand, immediately took a fry and shoved it in his mouth. It fell quiet between the two of them, enough that they could hear the couple at the other table arguing back and forth faintly at each other.

"So when can I meet your mother?" Malia blurted out, causing Stiles to pause in halfway in bringing the fork full of noodles up to his mouth. She didn't seem to notice as she continued on. "I always see your dad, but never your mom and you never talk about her. Did she and your dad divorce? Does she live in a different state or country?" Carefully setting the fork down, he grabbed his napkin, folded it neatly, and placed it on the table.

"Actually—"

"I bet you look so much like her. I mean, you look a lot like your dad, but you don't have his nose, and his smile is a bit different than yours. Plus your eye colours don't match. I bet you anything though that you and her look exactly alike...well, except the gender thing, but you know what I mean. You always do." Malia went on.

"Malia—"

"Is she nice? Will she like me?" She tugged on her shirt a little. "Will she teach me how to say your name in Polish? I remember you mentioning that Stiles is just a nickname for you because no one can properly say your first name."

"Malia," he said forcefully this time, finally getting her to stop. "She passed away when I was ten."

"Oh." Shock was drawn all over Malia's face, her mouth dropping into a small 'o' shape. "Oh…" She said again, clearly embarrassed by her rambling. "I didn't mean to—I mean—I'm sorry." Stiles held out her hand and motioned for her to grab it. When she did, he squeezed it tightly for a second, trying to assure her.

"It's alright. You didn't know. But to answer your questions, I do look a lot like her, especially when she was a teenager. She would absolutely love you and probably show you all my baby photos and tell you all the worst stories about me. She'd most likely make you tea and have you over even when I'm not at home. And as for my name, it's my grandma you'd have to ask to pronounce the entire thing, but my ma shortened it to Genim. I just go by Stiles because Genim is what she called me." He squeezed her hand again. "It's alright. I promise."

All of a sudden, there was a loud shriek of outrage, the shattering of a glass, and a few people gasping.

"That's it, Byran! We're over!" The woman at the other table had dumped her glass of water all over, presumably, Bryan. "You're such an ass, I don't know why I kept with you all these years." She huffed before stalking off in her high heels, causing a clicking noise to echo through the now silent restaurant.

"What are you all looking at?" Bryan hissed out, standing up and slapping his napkin down on the table, before swiftly walking after her. "Now Rose—"

"Sir, you need to pay for this." A brave waiter spoke up, and when Bryan turned around a glared at him, didn't back down. With a huff, he threw a couple of twenties it looked like at the ground before walking to the door and slamming it open. It took a moment, but then the restaurant slowly began buzzing again, probably with people speculating about what just happened. Shaking his head, Stiles turned and looked at Malia.

"The crazy things that happen…" He hummed, going back to his spaghetti.

Dropping Malia off at home, and receiving a peck on the cheek, Stiles drove home in a stupor. There was just something off. Malia's kiss didn't give him any sparks. It didn't fuel him on. It didn't make him feel giddy or drunk on happiness. It didn't make him feel special and proud that she had chosen him. It was just, simply, a kiss. Throwing off his shoes after walking inside his house, Stiles turned on the kitchen light, and after seeing a note on the counter folded into a small tent, walked over to it.

Got called in. Sorry. Hope you two had fun.

Love you, Dad

Shaking his head and smiling, he took his phone out of his pocket and texted his dad goodnight. He yawned loudly and rubbed at his eyes. Tomorrow would be a busy day, and judging by the clock shining the numbers 10:47 at him, he better get to bed.

The bell rang above Stiles's head as he opened the glass door. Stepping inside, he was slightly surprised at how much the office had changed. Beforehand, it was just a plain looking waiting room with a door leading to the kennels and another leading to the expectation roo. Now, however, there were some updated magazines that rested on the waiting room table, and a fresh coat of paint, a creamy white with a dark red accent, was all around. There were two examination rooms, Stiles guessing one was for Scott after he gets done with his veterinary schooling. Getting closer, he smirked to himself as he felt the power pulsing through the wood surfaces. Mountain ash. Everything in this waiting room that resembled anything close to wood, seemed to be dipped in it.

"Stiles." Deaton's voice broke him out of his reverie, causing him to look up. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I want to know everything you know about having a spark, and what you meant by when you said I have one. I also," Stiles cleared his throat, "would love if I could borrow your grimoire to get more knowledge on any other so-called-mythical-beasts that could possibly be attracted to Beacon Hill because of the Nemeton."

"What else?" Deaton calmly responded, motioning Stiles to follow him to the back examination room.

"What—how'd you know?" He gaped at Deaton before shaking his head. "Nevermind that. I've been seeing things I think." Stiles winced at the wording.

"What do you mean?"

"The kiyohime had purple eyes, and every time she killed, she looked different to me. But to everyone else, she—"

"—looked the same." Deaton finished his sentence thoughtfully, sitting down in a chair and waiting for Stiles to copy him. "You were in Hawaii this entire summer, yes?" Stiles nodded in agreement. "By chance, did you come across any runes of a sort or anything that would resemble a spell? I'm aware there's a pack that lives down on the island chain."

"There is a pack. Danny's aunt knows all of them, and no, nothing that I remember."

"Did you ever meet their emissary?" Deaton prodded, leaning forward slightly.

"Yeah, Miranda? She's the tattoo artist and she does an amazing job. Let me tell you." Stiles shook his head in admiration. "Her werewolf sight really helps her to hone in on some of the work she does."

"A tattoo artist you say? Did you happen to get one then?"

"Yeah." he said, "took them a while to convince me though.

"Can I see it?" There was a sudden eagerness in Deaton's voice, and Stiles shrugged before standing up and taking off his shirt. Holding up his arm, he pointed with his non-dominant hand at it. "Fascinating…" Deaton murmured, carefully prodding around it. "It seems, Stiles, that you've been blessed in more ways than one. You see, Miranda here did a fine job, really spectacular. Astonishing actually. She's a werewolf and an emissary too?"

"Well, come to think of it, I don't think she ever said. I just assumed. And what do you mean by blessed?"

"In writing, too small for the eye to see, unless it's that of a fellow emissary or any sort of magic creature actually, there's a sanctification in latin. I can't make out all the words because of the twists and turns, but it seems," Deaton turned his head sideways, "like she noticed you had the spark within you and used this tattoo to enhance it. Of course, it won't hone in on all your could-be abilities, but certain ones that would, and will, protect your pack. You said you saw her differently when everyone else saw her as the same?" Stiles nodded, a bit in shock of what Miranda had seen and done for him without him even knowing. "She's enhanced your masking abilities. Certain sparks," Deaton walked into another room, leaving Stiles alone for a second, before walking back in with a book in his hand and him flipping through the pages, "are given the ability to see creatures despite how advanced their masking abilities are. If they had a ring that hid their true appearance, the spark would be able to see it, whereas others would see it for what the creature wants them to see, just like how the kiyohime hid her real self, and you saw through it. So fascinating…"

"You keep saying the word 'spark', what does that mean?"

"It means you have an ability that not many others have, and, if trained, could help make your pack stronger. I haven't said anything since the kanima due to how busy the pack has been."

"What does that mean?" Stiles questioned further, putting his shirt back on.

"It means, Stiles, that you can become an emissary. You have magic, in a sense, flowing through your veins. I purposefully gave you a lesser amount of mountain ash because I saw the possibility within you to achieve tapping into your spark. And you believed in yourself, and the mountain ash, in that moment, with the fierce protectiveness of saving your friends, and it worked. Your spark was electrocuted into working, creating enough mountain ash for you to finish the circle." Stiles gaped at Deaton's words. "Now, I have another customer coming in any minute now, and I'm sure you have more questions that I have the patience to answer at the moment. However," Deaton firmly said, "I will lend you this grimoire and I want you to memorize it. By the time I call on you to come back in, I expect you to know all the creature in this book, their strengths, weaknesses, what they are capable of, everything. Understood?"

Shakily taking the book, still in a little shock of wonder, Stiles mumbled out a thanks and walked out of the room, building, and hopped into his car. "Scott's gonna get a kick outta this."

What do you guys think about Scalia? Or about the grimoire/spark?

I'm going to be adding a character in in about three chapters and personally, I think you'll love him. I already do. :)

How do you think the date went? Not sure why, but I had a LOT of trouble writing it.

More to come soon... :)

If you have any ideas for what I should write, or if you want to see something happen, let me know!

Thank you so much for reading and sticking with this.