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Derek stood before his pack, arms crossed over his chest and eyebrows of doom lowered until they cast shadows over his glowing red eyes. Stiles felt a thrill run through him and hoped it wasn’t apparent to everyone around him. From the eye roll he got from Isaac and gagging motions from Scott, it was clear everyone knew what he was thinking.
“We have a trickster among us,” Derek said, and every eye in the Pack turned to look at Stiles, who was staring at Derek and trying not to drool.
As the silence dragged on, Stiles realized everyone was staring at him. “What? Hey! Why are you all looking at me?”
“Stiles, we all know how much you love a practical joke,” Scott said condescendingly.
“Practical being the operative word. What is practical about that?” Stiles gestured toward Aiden, who was doing a remarkable imitation of Violet Beauregarde. “Or that?” He turned his attention to Jackson, who had a beanie pulled down to his eyebrows to hide the shock of Orange Crush-colored hair on his head.
“We all know how you feel about Jackson,” Isaac said.
Stiles held his hands up. “I have nothing against Jackson now that he’s his authentic self and no longer in love with Lydia,” he said. A shadow passed over Derek’s face, drawing Stiles’ attention away. “And Aiden is the reason for that, so why would I do something so petty?”
“Because Petty is your middle name,” Scott mumbled.
“Excuse you. Champion is my middle name!” Stiles argued.
“I thought it was -” Scott said.
“Hey! No. It’s Champion!”
Lydia snorted and gestured to the true-crime book sitting on the ground next to Stiles’ feet. “Actually, that’s Clyde Barrow’s middle name.”
“Nope. Chestnutt is Clyde’s middle name,” Stiles argued, reaching for the book and letting out a screech as it exploded in his hand, sending purple glitter all over Stiles and Erica, who had been sitting next to him.
Everyone gaped at Stiles. “Well, I guess that means it’s not Stiles,” Erica said before letting out a loud screech and brushing frantically at her skin. “Get it off!!!!!”
Boyd stood and brushed a hand over her, letting out a low grunt and shaking off his hand. Stiles picked some of the glitter out of his hair and crushed it between his fingers. “Wolfsbane!” he shouted, grabbing the sleeve of Erica’s jacket and dragging her towards the lake. So focused on getting the glitter off, she allowed the movement.
A moment later, a loud splash followed by a furious but no longer hurt shouting from Erica filled the air. Boyd, still shaking out his hand, shrugged and dunked his hand in the water, rinsing off the glitter before pulling Erica out. She glared at Stiles but begrudgingly thanked him for his quick thinking.
“How did he know that the wolfsbane would wash off?” Chris asked from his seat on the outer edges.
“Gut reaction,” Stiles said. “Erica screamed to get it off, and it seemed like the quickest way.”
“Or it could have increased the potency and killed her,” he countered. “You took a risk with her life, which is very unlike you, Mr. Stilinski. I still think you are the Trickster.”
“Excuse me?” Stiles asked, looking at everyone else around the fire. Half of the Pack studied him with consideration while the other refused to meet his eyes. “You know what? Fine. You want to believe that I’m out to hurt the Pack, then I just won’t be in it.”
He grabbed his jacket off the ground and stormed off through the woods. He heard movement behind him but refused to turn around. He figured Scott’s loyalty, although not always infallible, would have him chasing after his best friend. “Go away, Scotty. Go play with your real friends.”
“It’s not Scott,” Derek said, and Stiles whirled around, tripping over a root.
He would’ve hit the ground if Derek hadn’t reached out and grabbed him by the arm, keeping him upright and held a little too close to his chest. “Thanks,” Stiles muttered.
“It’s not you,” Derek said, and Stiles snorted. “You would never hurt the Pack, especially not Erica. You carried her to me after the Kanima; you care about her.” The dark look passed over his face. “Someone is threatened by your position in the Pack.”
“My position? As what, token human?” Stiles said, laughing. The laughter died when Derek raised his eyebrows and tightened his grip.
“You’re more than human. You’ve proved that many times. You have magic that many emissaries would covet,” Derek said.
“I’m not an emissary,” Stiles said.
“But you could be,” Derek said. “I would be honored to have you.”
Stiles choked, words not coming to him. Derek’s choice of words and the amount of trust he had in him to ask him to be such a vital part of the Pack was overwhelming. “We are discussing this later.” Derek nodded, his lips quirking slightly. A thought occurred to Stiles, commandeering his thoughts. “Did Chris call me Mr. Stilinski?”
“What?” Derek asked.
“Chris never calls me Mr. Stilinski. He always calls me Stiles,” he said, fingers tapping against his chin. “Only two people call me that. Harris, who unless he’s come back from the grave, can’t be him and-”
“Deaton,” they say together.
“Very good, Mr. Stilinski.” Chris Argent’s voice came from behind them, but they found Alan Deaton standing there when they turned. “My work here is done. The pranks will wear off shortly. Please extend my apologies to Ms. Reyes. She wasn’t supposed to be injured.”
Derek growled and advanced, but Stiles stopped him with a hand on his arm. “What do you mean ‘my work here is done’? Are you some kind of Batman villain now?”
“I would have to be to go against you, wouldn’t I?” He smirked at them. “Your glower is beginning to resemble your Alpha.”
“I suggest you leave,” Derek said. “You have become a threat to my Pack.”
“And we don’t take kindly to threats to our Pack,” Stiles said, mirroring Derek’s position, arms crossed over his chest. He could feel the Spark building inside of him.
“Very well,” Deaton said with a nod. “Please let Mr. McCall know that I’ve transferred the business over to him. You will not see me again.”
“Better not,” Stiles growled as Deaton disappeared into the trees. He turned to see Derek watching him with an unrecognizable look on his face. “What?”
“You’re amazing,” Derek said.
“Yeah, you just want me for an Emissary,” Stiles teased, bumping his shoulder against Derek’s arm before heading back towards the Pack.
Derek wrapped around Stiles’ arm and held him steady. “Are you still in love with Lydia?”
“I love her, yes,” Stiles said, watching the darkness appear again. “But I’m not in love with her. She’s become one of my best friends.”
Derek nodded, his look changing to a determined one. “Are you interested in anyone else?” Stiles raised his eyebrows. “If you become emissary, anyone you become involved with will be involved with my…our Pack.”
Stiles twisted his lips and smirked, looking into Derek’s face. “Well, what if I am interested in someone in the Pack?”
“Not Scott?” Derek asked, wincing.
“No. No. NO!” Stiles said, trying to keep a complete look of revulsion off his face. “He’s my brother.” Stiles gave a fake shudder.
“Lydia?” Derek’s voice was resigned.
“She’d my best friend, and I love her like a sister, but not anything more.” He looked at Derek, his teeth biting into his lower lip. “I’m thinking a little higher in the ranks.”
“Either Boyd or Erica, or possibly both, will kill you,” Derek said, but his lips were starting to curve into a knowing smile.
Stiles grinned. “Think they’d be into a threesome?” He laughed when Derek rolled his eyes and moved his hand from Stiles’ arm to his nape, squeezing gently, sending warmth through Stiles. He schooled his face into something a little more serious, his eyes tracing Derek’s face. “Alpha Hale, will you have dinner with me?”
“Aren’t we in the middle of a Pack meeting?” Derek teased.
“Screw the Pack,” Stiles said, laughing. He moved away and took Derek by the hand, tugging him back towards their vehicles.
“First threesomes, now orgies. I think I’m going to have my work cut out for me with you,” Derek said, picking up speed until they were running hand-in-hand through the woods, both of them letting out small giggles as they jumped over roots and dodged branches.
“Think you can keep up?” Stiles asked, letting go of Derek’s hand and increasing his pace.
Derek laughed loudly. “Run, run as fast as you can,” he called and set off after his prey, his hopeful mate.