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"Daddy," Isabella breathes, eyes wide, "it's a fairy!"
She sounds breath-taken, blue eyes glittering with astonishment and Derek looks up distractedly from the wolf salve he's viewing, in the general direction of her stunned gaze.
He has to do a double take.
It is a fairy.
"Holy shit."
"Daddy," Isabella admonishes, tutting "I'm telling Auntie Laura what you said." But she doesn't seem to mind too much, she clutches her entire, tiny fist around Derek's index finger and tugs a little. "Are you seeing the pretty fairy too, Daddy?" She whispers conspiratorially, and Derek nods.
It is a fairy.
Derek hasn't seen one in years, and that should have been enough for a lifetime. It's not that fairies are rare, exactly, it's just that they keep to themselves, and they tend to live in clusters between mountain passes where the sun shines the colour of lavender and the air smells of peppermint. There's not lots known about them, due to their seclusion, and Derek wonders how many there even are.
But there's no doubt about it, the young man examining types of ink a few stalls over is definitely a fairy.
He smells sweet, and floral. Like a cake baked in flowers, he smells warm.
"He's sparkly!" Isabella giggled, tugging on Derek's hand again, and he hoists her into his arms. The fairy is sparkly, Derek concedes, gold glitter seems to shimmer along his shoulders, and hovers gently in the air when he moves his arms in grand arcs as he explains something rapidly to the seller.
It's not exactly a surprise to see fellow creatures in the country's only hidden market place, the only way into the small, hustling, bustling and outrageously humid collection of stalls is through a guarded gateway that only lets supernatural creatures pass.
But Derek's only ever seen a collection of different were-creatures, on occasion a kitsune, twice a banshee- and once even a pair of witches who had cooed at him until he felt so uncomfortable he left.
He brought Isabella down with him about once a year to stock up on supplies, like wolfsbane to keep dangerous things out, balm to help her with the dry skin around where her claws would pop, and food with more protein and healing ingredients that were more suited to a growing wolf. Isabella had loved coming, loved the smell of the different creatures, and the way that people would tell her how cute she was, and gush over her manners. Five years old and already so smart and so sweet.
Derek wraps his arms tighter around her, unable to look away, and then the fairy looks up, and turns with eerie knowledge to meet Derek's eyes.
He's beautiful, Derek thinks fiercely. With honey-amber eyes, and pale skin and dark hair. He's elegant and graceful, and looks like all the fairies that have ever been described. Something ethereal around him, his jaw looks like it was carved from glass, but there's a softness to him. He's not dressed in the long, flowing clothing that Derek had associated with fairies, but he's in a forest-green plaid shirt, and black jeans, with mismatched converse on his feet.
He looks unbearably modern, and he's suddenly gesturing Derek over.
Derek freezes. What the hell? What should he do? Is there a protocol? Are you supposed to just go over if a fairy summons you? What are the rules? He yearns for his mother, but Isabella is giggling delightedly, and ordering Derek to go towards the pretty, sparkly fairy, and Derek doesn't really have a choice.
"Dude!" The fairy gushes, and his voice is the music of roses "you are saving my life right now! You'd be surprised at how few were-wolves know anything about ink, but you!" He pokes Derek's exposed forearm and the triskelion tattoo there "you are my saviour! My friend Scott- he's a werewolf- he wants to get a tattoo, but the ink keeps fading!" He holds up a little glass pot of black ink "do you think this type will be okay?"
The sun is beating down on them, and there's a sheen of sweat across everyone's brow, as Derek peers at the ink.
The seller is loudly assuring them it's the best quality were-wolf ink they can find.
Derek shakes his head "this'll last for a few days, a week maybe if you're lucky, but it'll fade."
The fairy turns to the seller with a betrayed look "You lied to me, Alejandro!" He yelps, and Alejandro smiles sheepishly, but the fairy is mock outraged, whirling away from the stall. It's then that his eyes land on Isabella, and they soften into warm gold, flashing gently.
She gasps.
"Oh, hello there," he whispers softly, immediately taken with her, and Derek knows the feeling. He can't help but puff up his chest proudly; that's his adorable daughter alright. "Aren't you beautiful, and what's your name?"
"Isabella." She bursts, flashing her little blue eyes "are you a fairy?" She's wriggling in Derek's arms, eager and excited, and her long brown hair is tangling in his jacket sleeve.
"Yes I am, but we preferred to be called fae. I'm Stiles, and you're a wolf, aren't you, Bells?"
She nods, and Derek gently disentangles her hair.
"Well, I've got something very special for you," he grins, holding out his hand, she takes it excitedly, and Derek watches curiously, as this Stiles creates a long stemmed, beautifully curved bluebell. Isabella gasps, and shakes the flower, and gold dust sprinkles out onto her hand. She shakes it harder and more falls out and she laughs in joy. "That'll never run out," he tells her informatively "so daddy can appreciate that mess forever," he shoots Derek a cheeky wink and Derek might be in love.
"I'm Derek." He says, a little too loudly to be normal, and even Isabella winces at her dad's lack of social grace.
The guy grins, a half uptick of his lips, and yup, yes, Derek is in love with him. He's actually impressed with how long he managed to hold out, a whole three minutes and he's already in love with this guy. Laura's going to have a field day with this. "Good to meet you, Derek, and your adorable daughter." Isabella smiles and continues shaking the flower until there's a considerable pile of dust on Derek's sleeve. "I don't suppose you know where I could find some ink for my friends tattoo?"
Derek frowns "well...I have some left over from mine, where about's do you live?"
"I just moved actually," Stiles scratches his neck and Derek watches the movement hungrily "Beacon Hills, d'ya know it?"
Isabella tries to jump in his arms "We live there!"
Stiles raises his eyebrows in surprise "wow, that's great," he laughs "Well, Scott lives up in New York now, but I could send it to him. A little fairy magic." He waggles his fingers and a confetti of rainbow twigs and leaves bursts into the air in front of his chest. Isabella claps, and Stiles whispers to Derek "-by which I mean, first class postal service."
Derek snorts.
Stiles beams at him.
They fall into familiar step beside each other, with Derek offering Stiles a ride back to Beacon Hills, it's a long drive but Stiles had leapt at the chance.
"But didn't you drive here?" Derek asked, not wanting to ruin the opportunity but still curious as they walk through the stalls. "What about your car?"
Stiles shrugged, looking around "Teleportation."
"You teleported here?"
"Oh god no," he shudders at the thought "I wasn't kidding earlier, I'm probably going to send Scotty the ink via post, but...do you know much about fae?" At Derek's look, he laughs and shakes his head "don't worry, not many people know a lot. It's sort of against the code to claim all our powers, but essentially a lot of it has to do with nature and plants, and if you're very powerful, you can..." he struggled for words for a moment, before continuing "So my truck is in the parking lot, right? What I can do is make a bunch of plants grow and eventually cover the truck and sort of...absorb it? And then I can make those plants grow at my house in Beacon Hills, and my car will be there. It takes about two days though, with objects that big. And a lot of energy and magic, not to mention the damage that can occur to softer objects- I made the mistake of doing it with curly fries." He shudders again "I was picking the soil out of my teeth for a long time. And they were stale."
His voice sounds whiny, like he's still annoyed about it, and Derek wants to hold him.
Isabella is asleep by the time they get to Derek's car, and he buckles her into the backseat as he and Stiles slide in up front. They drive for a few minutes in a comfortable, quiet silence, until Stiles asks:
"So, where's her mom?" He winces as soon as he's said it "sorry, that sounded much more tactful in my head."
Derek smiles indulgently "it's okay. She's gone. She didn't want anything to do with kids, let alone a werewolf one. I think it was all too much for her. She moved to England last I heard."
Stiles makes a face of disgust "how could you not want to be a part of that little snowflake's life?"
Derek slips into third and quietly agrees, before clearing his throat. "So, what you made you move to Beacon Hills? It's not exactly a New York."
Stiles laughs, leaning back in his seat, and his scent is mixing with Isabella's and Derek loves it. "Well, your last fae died, and they needed a volunteer for a new one, and my dad lives there now. He's the Sheriff? You might know him." Derek nodded.
But then he frowns. "What do you mean, the last fae?"
Stiles' eyebrows pull together "Lisa Grener? She was your last fae? Or do I have her name wrong-"
"No I..." Derek shakes his head "Mrs Grener? Mrs Grener was a fae?" Mrs Grener was a harmless old woman who lived on the edge of town and baked cookies for the school PTA meetings. "She smelt human."
Stiles nodded "no yeah, she was only a quarter fae. There are ranges, but up to about a twelfth fae will be enough for them to be a changer."
"A...changer?"
Stiles whistled softly "wow, what did they teach you in were-wolf school?" He teases, and Derek rolls his eyes. "Every town, or area, has a fae, typically just one, but obviously if it's a family or a community of them settled in an area, they'll have more. Beacon Hills has one. Now a fae is responsible for the seasons, you know uh...the trees losing their leaves, the wind, the rain, stuff like that. Clouds and dew, etcetera," he waves his hand "Lisa was a quarter fae, so one of her grandparents was one, that's probably why you had quite a mild climate?"
Derek nodded. He had noticed that.
Stiles grinned cheekily "yeah say goodbye to that, Der-bear, I'm 100% fae over here, so get ready for some snowy christmases and some heat-wave ridden summers."
Derek laughed "but I thought the Sheriff was human?"
The amber-honeyed boy smiled, but stiffened a little. "He is. My parents...uh...I dunno, I never knew them. I guess they didn't want kids? I don't think they were bad people. They went looking for a someone to look after me, and well...my dad's wife had just died, and they could see how badly he needed someone. They could sense it. So they left me on his doorstep," Stiles smiles a little "apparently, when he picked me up I made poison ivy attack him," he laughs "he's been the best dad to me."
Derek's eyes flickered to Isabella in the backseat, still sleeping and drooling onto the leather.
"You're a good father too, Derek," Stiles said softly.
Derek smiled.
By the time they reached Beacon Hills, Stiles was asleep too, and Derek shook him awake gently.
Stiles flailed, before his eyes widened as he stared out the windscreen. "Holy sh-" he darted back around to make sure Isabella was still sleeping, but she was beginning to stir so he changed tact "-moly. Your house is...amazing."
And that it was.
Hale House had been passed down the generations, and with each new owner there had been new renovations and upgrades until it stood as it did now. Tall and solid, with wood finishings and an abundance of windows that looked straight into the forest. It was secluded, but near enough to the road that they didn't have trouble getting to work and school. Derek unbuckled Isabella, who looked absolutely delighted that Stiles was still in the car.
"Have you come home with us?" She asked, eyes gleaming "are you going to be our fairy?"
"I will be over a lot," Stiles said, still wolf-whistling at the house, and Isabella laughed and unlocked the door, prancing practisedly up to the front porch. Derek and Stiles followed her. It was dusk and the sun was beginning to set, the leaves of the trees quivered in the approaching darkness, and the clouds rolled above distant and serene.
Derek spent the majority of the evening preening, Stiles seemed utterly enamoured with the interior design of the house, all the little wolf relics and hand stitched cushions that reminded Derek of his grandparents. And Isabella was enamoured with Stiles, the bluebell tucked behind her ear and leaving a trail of gold wherever she skipped. Not to mention the glitter that Stiles was shedding too, a variety of colours, and already getting trapped in the fine fibres of the carpet.
Derek had almost forgotten why they'd come there, and it was only upon spying the bottle of ink in the kitchen that he remembered.
He handed it to Stiles, who took it with a blink. "Oh yeah! Man, I totally forgot." He looked around the house a little forlornly, "guess I should head home, huh?"
Isabella looked up from her collection of barbie dolls "stay for dinner, Stiles?" She whimpered "Pleeeeassseee?"
Stiles shot Derek a look, before grinning "I'm a sucker for elongated vowel sounds."
And that's how the three of them ended up eating lasagne on the floor, in front of the film Barbie and the Twelve Dancing Princesses, as Isabella explained how her barbie dolls were better than the ones in the movie, because they would have stood up against the mean wicked step-mother.
She kept shoving Barbies into Derek's hands, and telling him to contort them in different ways so they were speaking to each other, and Derek's cheeks burned red as Stiles laughed, lasagne stains all down his chin.
"Okay, okay, watch this though," Stiles murmured, putting out his fist, and squeezing hard. When he opened it, there was a tuft of pink petals, which he laid out gently on the ground. With another hand movement, he began conjuring thread-like pieces of ice and sticking them together until they formed a roll. Derek cocked his head curiously, but Isabella clapped
"It's a dress!" She screamed, ear-piercingly loud, and Stiles winced laughing, as she carefully shimmied the dress onto the one naked barbie. "Look, daddy! A fairy princess barbie! I bet I'm the only one who's got one! Can you make her a crown, Stiles? Please, please?"
Derek watched, heart thumping with something that was suspiciously like contentment, which would be crazy, because Isabella made him content. But this was...something else. This was a family, and he watched as Stiles conjured a flame and gently changed the shape of one of Isabella's plastic rings until it was a tiny crown that slipped onto the barbie's head.
"Wow," Isabella shook her head "Stiles, you are so cool, daddy, why can't you do cool things like make barbie crowns?"
Her father threw his head back and laughed loudly "so I can turn into a full wolf, but tiny crowns are more impressive? C'mhere," and he tugged her over, blowing raspberries onto her stomach as she kicked and squirmed happily. Stiles tickled her legs, until she panted mercy, and the three of them sat up, and watched the sisters go across the water into a secret world on the television.
"Stiles, will you make dresses for all my dolls?" She asked sleepily, and Derek brushed her hair back, eying the dark circles under Stiles' eyes too.
"Tomorrow, baby," Derek whispered, as Stiles nodded eagerly. "But now, it's bedtime."
She sighed "I don't have to have a bath, do I?"
Stiles laughed.
Derek rolled his eyes "Not till tomorrow then, come on,"
It wasn't an invitation, but it wasn't not an invitation, and so Derek and Stiles ended up tucking her into bed as she described the entire theme of her princess room, which had pink turrets coming out of her bed and a shelf full of different barbie books.
"Tell me all about them tomorrow, Bells," Stiles said, plumping up her pillow "I promise I'll be over bright and early." He gave Derek a sideline look as if to ask if that was alright, and Derek nodded. He couldn't ever imagine saying no to this creature.
"Okay..." Isabella sighed reluctantly. "Before you go, do you have wings?"
"Izzy," Derek frowned "that's private-"
"Sorry, daddy," She pouted "I just wanted to know."
Stiles touched her chin "only if you promise not to tell anyone, yeah? Faes- Fairies have to keep it a secret. About all my powers. It's very important. It could be bad for me."
Her eyes widened at the implications, and she nodded vehemently, swearing to never ever do anything to harm Stiles.
He stood up, shooting Derek an impish wink, and suddenly two wings appeared behind him, moving slowly.
They weren't attached to him, there was a small space of what looked like golden light keeping them in place, but they were obviously a part of him. They were large, coming up over his head and down to his knees, with swirling patterns. They looked ultra thin and semi transparent but as they shimmered into place they became more and more visible. He flicked them once, twice, and then they started flittering, going so fast they were barely visible, like a humming bird, and he was lifted in place.
Derek stared in amazement.
"We should make you a crown, Stiles," Isabella whispered "I can make you one in school tomorrow, you're a fairy prince!"
Stiles ducked his head, laughing "and you're the fairy princess. I'll make you a crown out of snowflakes and daffodils."
The very thought was enough to send a bolt of energy through her and she almost tried to get out of bed. But she was shushed and settled, and as they headed for the door, Stiles lingered. Derek shot him a questioning look.
"You see that night light?" Stiles whispered, pointing to the one in the socket by her bed "would you mind if I...I mean..." He struggled with words, before deciding it was easier to just show Derek what he meant, and he conjured a small ball of light, no bigger than a tennis ball, that gradually changed warm colours.
"That is way cooler than a nightlight." Isabella breathed, as Stiles unplugged the nightlight, and left the ball hovering at her bedside. "It smells like lavender,"
And with that, she fell asleep.
Derek stared at Stiles for a beat, before shaking his head. "You are magical."
The two of them headed downstairs- well, Stiles bounded, "Nah, some hardcore barbie playing would tucker anyone out." He whirled around, looking at Derek with wide eyes. "So can I...come over to tomorrow? You know, let her show me her room and make her some more dolls clothes? I know she's got school it's just...I didn't know there were any other supernatural creatures in Beacon Hills. I sort of imagined having to become a bit weird and eccentric and never practising my magic around anyone other than my dad, and it's nice to...not have to do that." He shrugged a little, shoving his hands into his pockets "I'm eager for it not to go away."
Derek felt something ease in his heart, "come over any time, Stiles."
...
...
...
3 MONTHS LATER
"You eat an inordinate amount of sugar." Derek murmured, nose turned up a little in disgust.
Stiles waved a finger at him "I hope I'm not detecting any judgement from you, Mr I-put-gross-spinach-in-my-smoothies." He proceeded to suck the sugar off a piece of candy, before popping the green pebble into his mouth. "Mmm, that's good."
But the wolf blinked, thinking hard. Stiles did have a lot of sugar. He put at least eight teaspoons in his tea, not to mention some full fat milk and a tablespoon helping of honey. He was constantly eating sweets and never said no to dessert- "Is that a fairy thing?"
"Ugh, why is everything I do a fairy thing? Just because that girl stepped in poison ivy it's all my fault-"
"You made the ivy appear, Stiles-"
"She was flirting with you!" He yelped hotly, and Derek smirked. Stiles rolled his eyes, "okay fine, it's a fairy thing. A fae thing. It's a fae thing. You see." He pointed an accusing finger at Isabella who didn't look up from her barbies. "Look at you, making me speak in slang!"
Derek barrelled on, looking perplexed and a little forlorn. "You didn't tell me that you needed sugar to survive."
Stiles pressed his lips together, "it's not a huge deal. I tend to carry a pouch of sugar around with me for emergencies, but as long as I get a decent amount it's okay."
"What happens if you don't get any?"
"My magic isn't as strong, I feel week, and a little down, grumpier than usual. I won't die until after a few weeks."
"Don't die, Stiles," Isabella shakes her head "I'd be really upset with you,"
Stiles blows her a kiss, and a rose appears in the air and hits her in the face.
"It also means sugary foods are kinda irresistible to me. So make sure you hide your chocolate if you don't want me to eat it. I cannot be blamed for the empty snack drawer!"
Derek hauls him into an embrace "I'm your boyfriend," he says quietly into the scruff of Stiles' neck "I need to know these things so I can be prepared. I'll start...carrying some skittles around for you, or something."
"Awww," Stiles croons, twirling in his arms to kiss him wetly on the cheek "and I'll carry some dog treats in my pocket-"
Isabella and Derek throw a barbie at him at the same time as he squawks:
"Kidding, kidding!"
...
...
...
ONE YEAR LATER
Derek likes to stare at him sometimes, as they're lying in bed together and Stiles is asleep.
Likes to count his moles and the elicit goosebumps onto that cream skin. He likes to admire the flecks of glitter along his shoulders and collar, stroke the strands of hair, trace the shape of his eyebrows and the curl of his lashes. He loves the way Stiles' ears seem to point ever-so-sightly more than a normal human, makes him seem more elfin.
Loves how his breath smells like sugar and peppermint.
Yeah, Derek's big house is a mess now, and his floor is more glitter than carpet, and Isabella wears the bluebell behind her ear so much it's almost a fixture. There are vases containing huge bouquets and floral designs that are consistently in bloom dotted around the house (not so much dotted as bombarded everywhere) And she calls the Sheriff grandpa, and Stiles: Pa, and sometimes Derek's come home from work to see Stiles and Isabella playing with deer and rabbits, and one horrifying time a bear in the Preserve, but it's home.
Stiles doesn't work (he claims being a fairy doing the weather, seasons and dew, is more than enough) but he does help the Police Department out with cases every now and then.
Stiles yawns, and stretches against Derek sleepily, pulling him closer, and blinking blearily.
"Oh look," Stiles sighs with a peaceful smile, resting his head on Derek's chest "it's my incredibly handsome were-wolf boyfriend,"
"Oh look," Derek teases "it's my fairy god mother,"
Stiles whacks him playfully, before conjuring a bouquet of hydrangeas, with petals that are tinged with silver glitter, and presenting them with a grin "for the most beautiful wolf boyfriend ever."
Derek's blush reaches his neck and Stiles kisses him.
Derek doesn't tell him about the ring he has hidden in his top drawer, he's going to wait till everything perfect.
Then he'll be the most beautiful were-wolf husband ever.
And he can't wait.