Author's Notes: I wanted to get some things out before the new season starts, so these are just some unrelated, stand alone drabbles I've accumulated. Some humor, some angst, lots of hurt/comfort. Most will contain Pack-ness, Sterek, Pre-Sterek, and Bromance of Scott and Stiles.

Warning for this part: none

Summary: The Sheriff deals as well as he can with werewolves in his town and the fact that one of them is dating his son.

07 (Lock Up)

The Sheriff may know about werewolves, the turmoil of their lives, the battles they fight, most of the time to protect the town, to protect innocents. He may know that most of them are still typical teenagers that will make typical mistakes and give him the same headaches he's had with his own kid since he hit thirteen.

But that does not mean he won't occasionally lock one of them up when they piss him off.

Of course, they could break out, but they don't. Nothing's on the record. Really, cooling off in the station's cells is just the upgraded, werewolf version of teenage groundings and childhood time-outs.

He only throws them in here when they're having human issues, fights, vandalism not related to supernatural forces, things like that, nothing werewolf related. They're young after all, and their emotions run high. He's put them all in their place once or twice. But, aside from that disasterous first time when he was still clueless and two stupid kids were making murder accusations, he's never had Derek Hale on the other side of the bars.

"Hey," the Sheriff barks at Derek and Jackson when he catches them glaring at each other from across the cell, "Knock it off already. You both need to cool down, got it? Someone more responsible will be here to get you two soon enough."

Derek looks away. Jackson huffs, but has the decency to look a bit embarrassed at the reprimand.

The Sheriff didn't know what caused them to go at one another like they had, but he didn't much care. He had just needed to stop them before real visible damage could be done and people started wondering about the 'whys' and 'hows' of how the two morons weren't really bleeding much.

The block's door opened and the Sheriff heard Derek growl low, resigned to the imminent frustration.

Stiles and Lydia came towards them. Lydia looked pissed and Jackson was slinking back into the cell. Stiles was grinning and the Sheriff knew that the immense amusement of his kid would be punishment enough for Hale in this situation.

"So who's here for who?" he asked, just to rub it in a bit.

Lydia glares at Jackson and the boy actually whimpers. Stiles speaks up.

"Oh, I think I'll take the broody, leather-clad puppy in the corner." He grins and Derek glares at him seethingly. Stiles shrugs. "Then again, he looks like he bites."

"Stiles-" growled through teeth.

"Yeah, yeah. Thanks for keeping them from getting shot or something. I think we've got it from here."

The Sheriff opens the door and Derek walks out. Jackson…takes some persuading.

"For the love of- she can't be that bad, Jackson." The Sheriff tells him. "You're a werewolf."

"Besides," Stiles adds helpfully, "Stalling will just piss her off more."

The former were-lizard is next to Lydia fairly quickly.

"It really wasn't my fau-"

"Oh no. You have no lines in this play." She's already grabbed his arm and is dragging him toward the door. "None."

The Sheriff almost feels bad for him. Almost. He turns to see Derek pointedly avoiding looking at a still grinning Stiles.

"So…you got thrown in the pound."

"I will end you." He tells Stiles with absolutely no heat. He knows he'll be hearing about this for awhile.

"Fine, fine." Stiles puts his hands up and then looks at his father, grumbling. "I knew he was the kind to bite. Dinner at eight?"

"Sounds good."

The Sheriff watches as the two walk away side by side. Derek leans a bit closer to Stiles and tells him in a low voice, "And you like it when I bite."

Derek grins and the Sheriff pinches the bridge of his nose, wonders if you can line handcuffs with wolfs bane.