Chapter Eight
Everyone stared at her and she grinned.
"Well? We have a party to get back to."
They stared a few moments longer, shrugged and returned to their celebration. Croc joined them a few moments later, a for a while they just let the stress of the nights events and the events of the past month roll away.
For those few moments in time, they were as happy as people like them could get and they reveled in it.
Years had passed since Danny had so much as thought of Stiles Stilinski.
The girl had been one of his best friends before Scott McCall and Jackson Whittemore had come into their lives and they'd gone their separate ways. He was probably one of the few people in Beacon Hills that remembered her as Mieczysława Stilinski rather than Stiles.
He remembered seeing her with long mahogany curls which she had cut when her mother had gotten sick and kept buzzed until their junior year. Until werewolves and Kanimas.
After Ethan broke up with him, and Allison's death he'd pushed for an early graduation, eager to get away from the hell that was Beacon Hills and he hadn't returned until Jackson had told him he was returning for senior year.
He'd arrived to no Stiles.
Stiles had somehow gone missing, and everyone in town had felt it. The Sheriff had become stricter with the perceived loss of his daughter, still fair in his judgement but harsher than he'd ever remembered him being.
It was stunning for someone that had met the man when Claudia Stilinski was still alive and even called him uncle for a short while.
He like the rest of the town had mourned the quirky girl, celebrating when the Sheriff finally began to heal and married McCall's mother, but otherwise he hadn't thought of Stiles in any other capacity.
She'd been just another casualty of Beacon Hills.
That made the sight before him that much more stunning.
Stiles was there, at the Jungle...but she looked nothing like the broken girl she'd been at Allison's funeral.
Long blond hair spilled across her shoulders and down her back in pink-tipped ringlets, a sleeveless blue dress clinging to her slim but shapely form like a glove, and lips were painted a deadly crimson, dancing with a smile sweet enough to induce a diabetic coma.
She was dancing in a man's lap, every move sensual and near hypnotizing, far more graceful than he'd ever seen her move. The man's entire focus was on her, hazel-green eyes soft and burning as they watched her.
Danny swallowed.
"Stiles?"
She paused and turned her eyes widening before she grinned.
"Danny!" She greeted before turning to her companion.
"Look Puddin', it's Danny!"
The man glanced at him, then smiled and Danny swallowed as he realized just who the man was.
The Joker.
The Clown Prince of Gotham.
What the fuck was he doing in Beacon Hills?
What the fuck was he doing in Beacon Hills with Stiles?
"Stiles," He whispered carefully. "Do you have any idea who that is?"
She cackled, grinding back against the man with a gasp. "Mmhm. The question is, Danny-boy, do you have any idea who I am?"
He stared, taking in the madness in her eyes and the sensual way she moved against Joker's body and suddenly it clicked.
There was only one woman crazy enough to get that close to Gotham's most dangerous criminal.
Harley Quinn.
How...the fuck?
He had missed the pack's dinner at the Sheriff's earlier that evening, having had to work and now, he knew it was probably something he should've gone to.
Joker grabbed her hips, voice low and dangerous. "If you don't play nice, I will fuck you right here, right now and give everyone a free show."
She whimpered, biting her lip and Danny shivered at the unbridled desire in her eyes.
"Um, Stiles?"
She glared at him, annoyed. "What?"
"I just… welcome back."
She stared at him, then nodded with a wide smile. "Thank you."
Joker sent him a dark glare then glanced at her. "Dance for me, beautiful."
Danny quickly walked away not wanting to see them escalate once more. Despite it all, though. He was happy for them.
Stiles deserved to be happy.
*/*
"She killed Lydia!"
Jackson stared at the pack stunned as the pack recounted their dinner at Sheriff Stilinski's house and how the man had done nothing why Stiles killed Lydia.
Like Danny, he'd missed the dinner at the Sheriff's house due to him deciding to visit Cora instead. he and the younger hale had been growing closer since his return years ago, but neither had acted on it with her dislike for Scott's style of leadership apparent.
Now, hearing about it, he sorta wished he'd gone.
Stilinski had no right to abandon them then come back and just start killing people!
Especially not Lydia!
He opened his mouth to say as much, but decided against it when Derek informed them all that Stiles and her new crew would be coming over the next afternoon to discuss a treaty.
"You're not seriously going to let her get away with killing Lyds are you?"
He asked and Derek sighed, looking much older than he'd ever seen the alpha.
"Honestly? I don't know what the hell we're gonna do. Stiles, she… she's got the means to destroy everyone in this room and get away with it. This isn't like the nogitsune where we could reason and get her to come back to us. This is Stiles without her babbling idiot mask. And she has little reason to put it back on."
Jackson's blood went cold.
He was one of the few people in the pack that knew how ruthless Stiles Stilinski could be. One of the few that had experienced it first hand.
He remembered when he'd made the mistake of actually, physically harming Scott only days after Claudia Stilinski's funeral. He'd punched him and locked him in a broom closet at the school.
He didn't know who had told her, because he knew it hadn't been Scott. All he knew was she had nearly beaten him to death by the time the teachers pulled her off of him, amber eyes cold and furious. Worse, when he'd returned to school, she'd stomped on his broken arm, despite it being in a cast and warned him that if he ever crossed her, she would kill him forreal.
The day had stuck with him.
He made sure that none of his pranks on McCall ever physically harmed the boy, even when she'd left school briefly and returned all spastic limbs and sarcasm.
He thought she'd gotten better.
He was terrified of what he was going to see tomorrow.
And if his arm tinged with the phantom pains of a punishment long passed...no one had to know.
*/*
"Mieczysława…"
Hazel green eyes shot open, their owner staring blankly into the darkness.
"Hotaru." She greeted the voice, her eyes bleeding black.
"It's time."
The young woman hummed softly, mind lucid for the first time in hours.
"I see."
"I'm sure." The voice grew weaker. "Sleep well. It'll be over by the time you wake."
A slow burning sensation began in her toes quickly spreading and a wild cackle left her lips. Beside her, her lover jerked awake but she paid him no mind, listening to the mirrored laughter echoing in her mind as her blood boiled her alive.
TBC…
A/N: Dude, I don't even fucking know what's happening at this point, Lol. Anyways over on (Shot's of the One) has posted their version of this story. It's really good, you guys. Go read it.