Ay! Back at ya again with them dank chapters. Y'all gotta strike a jive or something, you're killing me. Get a boogie on, make some noise, look alive. lol I made some changes to the chapter orders. After 62, we're going to do a SLIGHT flashback chapter checking in on Stiles and Claire last night/morning of these chapters, THEN we're going to get to the house and get started on date night. I also KIND OF want to catch you guys up a bit because I have 61 and 62 completely done right now, and I only really need one back up chapter, and being so far ahead of you guys is REALLY throwing off my groove. I don't think I'm ready to commit to that just yet however so I'm not going to post right NOW, as in same time I upload this. If you guys are ready for the extra upload let me know and I'll dump 61 on you. If not I'll probably keep in the barrel 'til I'm feeling less flighty about it.
I have also made another minor decision regarding characters that doesn't change the story (at least yet) but I wanted to let you guys know about anyway. I decided to write another character besides Allison as trans, and that character is Derek. Now I'm sure the 3 of you reading this who didn't skip right to the chapter, are thinking "Wait, how does that work, he's a werewolf? How would he have transitioned? Wouldn't he just heal?" because I know I did. I decided to make it so werewolves have at least one magical form of transition. However there are some unique challenges to that process that may come up later in the story, and so I decided to mention it now so you guys can understand his experience as fully as possible when it comes up later. I do NOT intend to write Derek (or Allison) experiencing any transphobia, and if I do at any point need to, I will try to remember to put warnings at the beginning of any chapter in which he does(/they do).

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Derek didn't know why he felt so anxious getting out of his car at the small shop behind the old cemetery, staring up at the sign that read Mors' Flores. He didn't know a lot of people buried there, and even less that he was at all attached to. He pinned the cause to what had happened at the hospital. Or perhaps to the knowledge that Stiles' parents were buried there. He walked in and realized that wasn't right as the feeling got stronger, the shopkeeper now smiling at him inquisitively. Was he honestly this nervous to meet a florist Stiles happened to be friends with?

"Derek Hale. What can I help you with today, my boy?" The man asked in a deep, even voice.

"You… know me?" Derek asked confused. The man gave a single nod.

"Oh, yes, I know you quite well. I would assume most the town does, don't they? The closest we came to being acquainted recently however was…" The man gave a small demure chuckle and shrug that Derek couldn't really discern the meaning of. "You… followed Stiles off from here the last time he visited, didn't you? I assume the two of you are acquainted?" Derek nodded cautiously, not wanting to give the wrong idea by being coy. How did this guy even notice him? Was he some sort of supernatural being too?

"Um, yeah, we're… friends, we met up and talked at their next stop. He showed me the really gorgeous nightshade you sold him."

"And you'd like one?" He sounded surprised, as if he knew what Derek was. For some reason, Derek wasn't particularly surprised or offended that he did, as weirded out as he was.

"Yeeeah, um, two if you still have them available. I'd like to gift one to someone. Is that alright?" The man nodded.

"I have a couple left, I'll grab them from the back…" The man walked off through the door behind him into the back storeroom before he could respond. Still he called after the man.

"I can help, if you'd like?" The man's voice sounded far off. Evidently he'd moved them from where they were when Stiles was here.

"No that'll be fine, Dear, I'll be up in just a moment..." True to his word after about thirty seconds he was back with two fresh looking, wispy, branchy plants happily tangling themselves up a tall trellis just like the one in Lydie's pot at the end of Stiles bed. The petals looked to be healthy as could be, a deep velvety Purple color, and one even had a plentiful supply of berries about to ripen to a bright red. He'd likely give that one to Deaton. The one he was keeping he'd probably plant by the house. It had been so prolific before the fire that it was practically right up to the sides of the house depending on the season. Since it seemed like the local population refused to grow anymore. He hoped maybe this little guy would repopulate and spruce up the place again. Of course the estate needed a lot more work than that. While that was always Laura's dream, not his, he had been a bit tempted since his mini-talk with Dean. Not now, of course, he'd told himself repeatedly, but some day, he really would've liked to see it, all fixed up again. Full of a found family, like Stiles' house always was. Loud and vibrant and lively once more.

"They're really beautiful…" He told the Florist, trying to not seem too enamored with them.

"Mmm." He seemed to be agreeing. "They are weeds but they can still be very fickle, especially if you're planning on keeping them in their pots. How is Stiles' doing?"

"Really, good actually, seems like he has quite the green thumb too…" The man chuckled, but Derek chose not to question it, assuming he was just amused given the nature of the plant in question. "But he is keeping her at the foot of his bed, and she keeps insisting on tangling herself through his bed frame, and climbing up onto the bed." That elicited a more intentional seeming laugh.

"They are a rather cuddly species, didn't you know?" The man said through his tame, rich laughter. Derek gave a genuine hitch of laughter, really glad he seemed to befriend Stiles' supposed friend. He seemed like a very nice, if a bit strange. "Well, wish Stiles and his parents well for me. Have a nice day, my boy…" Derek was a bit taken aback but had the presence of mind to call out to stop the man from walking away.

"Wait, wait, um, what do I owe you?" He offered, not wanting to outright say 'hey don't you want my money' or anything so forward. The man turned back from the storeroom door, immediately rolling his eyes.

"You and Stiles are just peas in a pod aren't you? It's a bloody weed from my backyard, I won't accept a dime." The man turned to walk away again, but turned back apparently having thought better. "Just… Take care of him, hm? You know… Make sure he has fun, and of course, make sure he gets home safe. Understood?" Derek was a tad stunned but, nodded.

"Yes, of course, I- uh- I didn't get your name when we met?" The man smiled.

"Why I'm Mors, obviously…"

Derek used every ounce of willpower he had to nod, stammer out a "have a good day", take his plants, and walk swiftly to his car, and not ask to a random Californian florist's face "You're Death?"... Mostly because he was afraid he already knew what the answer would be.