Disclaimer: No, I do not own Teen Wolf and I am not making money off of this.
Last time:
Feeling like every bone in my body had liquefied, I played a rousing- read: exhausting- game of twenty questions with my father and, when he was satisfied with his interrogation, oozed my boneless way up to my room. The adrenaline must have worn off with a vengeance because I fell asleep before I made it to my bed, lolling across the floor with one arm extended towards my ultimate destination. It was lucky for me that there was no school tomorrow.
Though, you know, my luck has always had ways of balancing itself out.
In other words, Scott was being clingy. I went over to his house a few hours before he'd have to go meet Hale to talk over what had happened, and he greeted me at the door with a bone-breaking hug, followed by a friendly slap to the shoulder. Whenever we moved locations in the house, he threw an arm around my shoulders or guided me with a hand on my back. If I sat down across from him, he would get up and switch seats to be next to me, and if he wanted to emphasize a point or just get my attention, he'd touch my arm or my shoulder or my leg. Even his mother commented on it, but all that accomplished was having Scott move us up to his bedroom.
"I don't want her to realize anything's different about me," Scott explained under his breath and with darting eyes as he "led" me up the stairs with a hand on my lower back.
The worst of it, however, was that when I plopped down onto his bed next to him and he absent-mindedly threw an arm around my waist, I almost let him keep it there. Now, don't get me wrong, there are those friends that cling together like Siamese twins, but the truth of it is: those are girls. They can get away with it. Scott, however, needed to remove his hand from the side of my thigh immediately or suffer the wrath of my wounded manliness.
"Scott," I said matter-of-factly, moving his arm so it'd be back by his side with his hand in his own lap, "I think you're more of a puppy than a wolf."
"Excuse me?" Scott's voice trembled between offense and laughter as he clasped his hands in his lap to keep from touching me any more.
"You know what I mean," I waved his concern off flippantly, almost laying a hand on his shoulder before thinking better of it, "You just aren't as badass as Hale."
"Well, I'm sorry I'm not being 'badass' enough for you," Scott pulled his book bag up onto the bed with a sigh, "My organizational skills must not be badass enough for you either. I suppose you should go ask Hale to help you."
I threw myself on the ground in apology, worshipping his shoes until he took it back. However, a little shoe worship wasn't enough, later, to achieve one of my major goals.
"Please, can I go with you?" I drew out the syllables of each word as we clomped down the stairs, Scott actually fleeing before me, "I'll stay in the car!"
"No," he opened the front door, "You're going home and I'm going to meet-" With a glance at his mom in the kitchen, he continued, "-Eddie to go over our essays for a peer edit." This time a poisonous glare was thrown in my direction, "Alone."
This supposedly final statement prompted, of course, a long stream of ill thought-out promises, "I'll stay in the car, and I won't even open the window, and I'll lay along the bottom so he can't see me, and I'll bring my Gameboy so I never get bored enough to step out of the car and, uh, I'll be your willing slave for a day, and I'll-"
"Wait," Scott had that scary gleam in his eye again, "What was that last one?"
"You didn't let me finish it," I shot back.
"No, the one before that."
Thinking back over what I had said was more difficult than I imagined it would be, "Uhhh…"
"Did I hear something about, oh, having you as my willing slave for one day?" Scott grinned toothily, and I swear his wolf must have been coming out because those teeth looked pointy.
"Ah! I-take-it-back-I-take-it-back-I-take-it-back!" I backed up to the wall, where Scott slapped his hands in place on either side of me.
"Oh, but I thought you really wanted to go see what uh, Eddie's editing would be like," Scott mock-pouted, invading my personal bubble as he did so.
"NO! I changed my mind!" I cringed back as I realized what I had almost allowed myself to fall into. Scott's a nice guy, right? Well, if he looks at you like an equal. The problem is, Scott's got a creepy little flaw to him- the slightest hint of actual power over someone and he flips out. Or at least, the slightest hint of power over me. It's like he is the perfect example of "absolute power corrupts absolutely." The last time I'd traded slavery (again, believing in Scott's inherent niceness) for something from Scott had not been a pleasant debacle. Then again, the last time this had happened we were still in elementary school, so perhaps he'd matured over the years.
The amused glint in Scott's eyes told me not. …Maybe it was a good thing Scott's wolf was in charge of his full powers. So far.
"What's going on over there?" Ms. McCall warned, trying not to laugh, "Don't let Scott beat you down just because he has asthma, Genim; sock him one in the stomach if you have to."
"Thanks, Ms. McCall, but I'd prefer not to," I called back, slipping down and out of Scott's body-cage.
Scott laughed once, a barking, doglike sound, and fixed me with an intense look that belied the smile on his face, "So you will not show up at H- Eddie's house today, understood?"
With a reluctant compliance pried out of me, Scott left the house with a slam of the door.
"I do not get what is up with him lately," Ms. McCall, apparently uncaring that I was here without Scott, complained. "I take a day off of work to spend time with my family and he's cranky as all get out."
"Not to mention, gone," I added, coming in and grabbing a sponge, "Want some help?"
"If it's not too much trouble," She grinned, "I'm used to cleaning bedpans, not dishes."
"Here, I'll wash, you dry," I moved her gently from the sink and plunged my hands into the soapy water.
"Honestly," Ms. McCall blew a strand of hair out of her face; "I think the only time anything gets really clean around here is when you come over."
I couldn't help but laugh, and a mischievous feeling came over me as I realized how to explain away Scott's mood, "You know, he didn't take his inhaler to the dance last night."
"What are you implying, Stiles?" She asked with dry humor, focusing on the glassware she was working with.
I turned a full beam grin on her, "He was breathing so fast with Allison he had a minor asthma attack right in the middle of the dance floor and had to leave her in the lurch just because he hadn't wanted to look like a loser with an inhaler."
Ms. McCall burst out laughing.
The next time I saw Scott was on Monday, when he was anxiously scouring the hallways for Allison.
"I have to apologize," He fretted, wringing his hands, "That was probably the worst date ever and she'll never want to see me again because we just ran out without an explanation."
"Actually…" Oh, didn't Derek say something about not remembering what happened when they turned completely? Hmm, I'm starting to regret not paying attention. "I kinda told her you were having an asthma attack and left your inhaler at home."
"What?!"
"Oh, and your mom, too."
"WHAT?!"
After the little incident was sorted out I managed to get my own questions in about his training session. "So," I stumbled a little and caught myself, scurrying to catch up as Scott stalked the halls, "What exactly did you do with our mysterious Mr. Derek Hale?"
Scott rolled his eyes, anxiety momentarily forgotten, "We talked about you."
I did an open-mouthed double take, "Seriously? Why?" Weren't they supposed to be, I don't know, teaching Scott to control his inner wolf? "Where's the badassery of that?" Also, that's just not cool! I expected like, lessons on how to fully shift or use their awesome powers, not old lady gossip!
A locker slammed nearby and Scott cringed, never stopping his search of the hallway. "Well, he was curious about when you said you had a 'healing touch' and we talked about it."
Yeah, but now I was curious and detail was severely lacking from Scott's little explanation. "But what did he say?"
Scott was rubbing my clothed wrist like a worry stone now and I was a little concerned that I hadn't noticed until that moment he'd even grabbed it. Was I becoming desensitized? Of course, Scott didn't seem to realize he was doing anything either. "Uh, something about your exposure to something called aconite? And it combining with my view of you?"
"What view- wait, you don't know what aconite is?" My voice went deadpan as he stared at me without the slightest ray of comprehension dawning in his expression, "It's in almost any werewolf movie ever made?" I suggested. He shook his head. "Severus Snape asks Harry Potter about its other names in a roundabout way in the first book?"
"Oh!" His eyes lit up for a second, "Monkshood?"
"Yes, but also…" I trailed off, but he didn't appear to be coming up with the answer anytime soon so I started, "Wolfs… Wolfsba-"
"Wolfsbane! Wolfsbane, got it!"
"My god, you are so not prepared for this."
"Shut up."
"Well, you aren't!"
-x-
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(Only slight tweaking to the last scene compared to the TV series)