Work Text:
"We shouldn't have taken that left turn in Albuquerque."
"Stiles… we're in Idaho."
"Ugh, don't I know it."
Stiles leaned his elbow against the passenger door, holding his head up with his hand as he stared out at the dense tree infested expanse of rural America all around them. Endless forests of trees blocked the view in any direction making Stiles feel like he was traveling through a green tunnel. He sighed heavily, his breath condensing on the window for a moment. He sat back into his seat and looked over at Allison, who was driving their little car across the country.
He shifted around in his seat, tossing his feet up on the dashboard. Next he curled up into a tight ball, using his seatbelt to hold his knees to his chest. Then he sprawled out with his legs in the footwell, avoiding dropping his feet on his precious bag of various road trip snacks. Stiles looked at Allison whose eyes were locked on the road, hands lightly gripping the steering wheel at 9 and 3, ever the competent driver. Soft indie music played in the background (driver's choice). He grabbed his soda bottle, mouthing at the straw he had stuck in, glaring out the front window.
"Can I drive?" he pleaded, wiggling in his seat. "I need to do something."
Allison laughed, tossing a smirk at Stiles, her eyes away from the road for only a split second. "Stiles, you drove this morning and almost hit a cow."
"That was not my fault. It came out of nowhere."
"It was standing in the middle of the road."
"…I hadn't had my second cup of terrible motel coffee?"
"You don't drink coffee."
Stiles huffed out a breath as Allison chuckled. He scratched at his cheek, grumbling under his breath. The song changed and he shifted around in his seat some more. Allison reached out and slapped his shoulder. "Come on, Stiles, I know you're bored. Why don't you look at the map? Pick out where we'll have lunch."
He sighed but pulled out the folded map of Idaho they had in the car. They also had folded maps for pretty much every state west of the Mississippi river. Their road trip had no destination, no timing, and no parents. Just the two of them deferring a semester at college to cruise across America together. It had sounded awesome, until Stiles realized the reality of being stuck in a small space for hours on end with little to do.
Stiles unfolded the map on his lap, tracing his finger along the highway they were on. "What was the last sign you saw?"
"A couple miles back I saw one that mentioned some place called Salmon."
Stiles scanned the map and found vaguely where they were. He glanced at the clock, did some mental math and put them a couple of towns down the road. "We've got a couple of options. Both pretty small so we're looking at road side diners with questionable hygiene."
"Well at least it’s food made in a kitchen and not processed junk from a brightly colored bag," Allison said, eyeing him out of the corner of her eye as Stiles pulled out a bag of Cheetos. He rolled his eyes at her and obnoxiously licked his now orange fingertips.
Stiles settled back into his seat, looking out the window at the endless fields of farmland and munched on his powdery orange snack. After a moment he was bored again.
"So how about a game of eye spy."
Allison rolled her eyes but indulged him. Because she was an awesome BFF like that.
----
"That was a North Carolina license plate."
"Stiles get back in your seat. Wait, where did you get binoculars?"
"That was a North Carolina license plate, bitch. Ha! That makes 23 states. I'm on a roll."
"Stiles, sit down, I can't see out the back window."
"Wait, I think that's a Texas plate behind us."
"Stiles, we're going to crash because your fat ass is in my way."
"I do not have a fat ass. It is a perfect bubble butt."
"Sit down before I pull over and leave you on the side of the road."
----
"I need an adjective."
"Wacky."
"Okay. And a noun."
"Pickles."
"Perfect, let's see how this turned out…"
Two pickles, both alike in dignity,
In fair Albuquerque, where we lay our scene,
From ancient T.V. Tray break to new mutiny,
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.
From forth the fatal loins of these two foes
A pair of star-cross`d wigs take their life;
Whole misadventured piteous overthrows
Do with their computer bury their parents` strife.
The fearful passage of their wacky love,
And the continuance of their parents` rage,
Which, but their children`s end, nought could twirl,
Is now the 212 hours` traffic of our stage;
The which if you with chilly gal bladder attend,
What here shall whistle, our toil shall strive to mend.
---
Stiles flipped the plastic one page menu in his hands, over and over again. "Well I'm impressed they have more than breakfast, lunch and dinner as options." He said, grabbing his water to chew on the straw.
Allison was studying the menu with more intention than the few lines of text warranted. Her eyes scanned it swiftly, glancing up at Stiles with a smile. "But not much more than that," she replied.
Their tired looking waitress came over, barely giving them a glance as she asked what they wanted. They ordered, exchanging rolling eyes as their waitress wandered away, snapping her gum. The little diner in the quiet town they had stopped in was exactly what Stiles expected it to be. Sleepy, full of locals who gave them the stink eye, and greasy food. Perfect place to stop on a cross country road trip.
Stiles let his eyes wander around the diner, taking in the other patrons. Most were locals. You could tell by the easy way they sat and how the waitresses lingered at their tables, talking. There were a few travelers like him and Allison; a family of five with squirming children, a couple on their honeymoon based on the way their eyes were soppily looking into eachother’s, and a biker sitting by himself at the counter.
Stiles let his eyes travel the frame of the biker, taking in his tight jeans, the scruff on his cheeks, dark hair tousled over thick eyebrows and a strong set of shoulders. He sighed and leaned against his palm, not taking his eyes off the handsome man. "Mmm," he hummed, chewing on his straw again. "Now there's a fine specimen of masculinity."
The man at the bar shifted, gripping his cup of coffee tightly as he waited for his food. "Why, Stiles, are you coming out to me," Allison said playfully.
Stiles glanced at her and grinned. "You know very well I'm bi, Ally. You were the first person I told."
"I know, it's just the first time I've seen you show interest in a real guy and not a celebrity."
"You never know, he could be a local celebrity. Maybe he’s a politician with a rebellious streak. Maybe he’s a serial killer. Maybe he likes episodes 1, 2, and 3 of Star Wars. You know I’d never like someone normal. Remember our AP English teacher."
Allison laughed, making a little stack of sugar packets as they waited for their food.
A group of people sat down in the booth behind Allison, a group of locals from the looks of it. They were talking loudly, gossiping and catching Stiles' attention.
"I'm sick of this damn curfew."
"I know, but they still haven't caught whoever is killing all those girls."
"They should just have a curfew in place for girls then. Why the hell can't I go to the bar and watch the game and instead have to go home when the sun goes down."
"I hear ya, man."
Stiles sat back in his seat and looked at Allison, earlier good mood disappearing. Her head was tilted down and toward the men behind her, listening. She raised her eyes to his, and he sighed at what he saw there. They wouldn't be back on the road after lunch. He grumbled, fiddling with the straw for his water.
----
Stiles unlocked the motel room they had rented for the night, taking in the dim interior of the room and the two full beds. The floral comforters on both beds were quite the eyesore and the TV looked like it was older than he was. But it was just for one night, he supposed.
"With all these detours we're taking it's a good thing we didn't have a timetable for our trip. It'll take months before we get back home."
Allison came into the room and set her two bags on one of the beds, a suitcase and a leather duffle bag. Stiles mirrored her and then went to the window, parting the curtains. They'd already been warned by the inn keeper that no one was allowed out after nightfall. There was a dangerous serial killer out there taking the lives of young women, three in the past week. The inn keeper even speculated that the police would be bringing in the FBI soon.
Stiles watched as the sun started to set, bright oranges and golds painted across the clouds in the sky. "Not long now," he said, turning back into the room.
He watched as Allison opened her leather duffle bag, reaching in a pulling out a crossbow. She tested the weight of it in her hand, checking the tension of the drawstring and pulling out some wooden arrows. She looked at Stiles, smiling sweetly. "Good, I could use the exercise."
When the sun set, Stiles and Allison left their motel room, and under the cover of darkness they made their way into the town. Allison carried an old small crossbow in one hand, her hair tied back sensibly in a messy bun.
----
Allison became the next Vampire Slayer their sophomore year of high school. Stiles and Allison had been friends for a long time, bonding over having single parents and being unpopular. Allison could have been popular once they hit high school and she grew into a lovely young woman, but she stayed friends with Stiles. Until one day she woke up feeling different and a man named Deaton showed up saying he was her Watcher.
The first thing he taught her, beyond how to dust a vampire with a wooden stake, was that she would be alone. That her life would change and keeping up friendships would be difficult.
Deaton had obviously not counted on Stiles being Allison's BFF.
Stiles had figured out within a few days that something had changed in his friend and had figured out the whole Slayer thing in record time. He had thrown himself wholeheartedly into Allison's new lifestyle and had not looked back. Sure, there were times he hated having to lie to his dad about what he was doing, and taking down vampires and other creatures of the night in their town (which had sat on a hellmouth for years) made Stiles long for the days when the closest he got to anything death-defying was playing video games.
----
Stiles crouched down behind a dumpster with Allison as a cop car, slowly circling the town looking for anyone out after curfew, passed them. "You take me to all the classy places," he said eying a suspicious stain on the side of the dumpster.
When the cop car turned the corner, they left their hiding place, walking down the quiet road. Stiles reached out for Allison's hand, lacing their fingers together. They leaned into each other, giggling at nothing as they staggered down the street. Falling into their default 'drunk couple' routine was easy and a perfect way to attract any hungry vampires looking for some young and easy blood.
Out of the corner of his eye Stiles saw a figure walk out of the shadows, moving towards them. Allison shifted the crossbow she held between their bodies, hiding the weapon from their prey. Stiles could tell instantly he was a vampire. They had a feeling about them, being dead and soulless. They didn't feel human. They felt wrong.
They stopped laughing, looking at the vamp as it approached, face still human. Stiles took in their surroundings quickly. They were alone, on a strip of the street filled with abandoned storefronts. No doubt where the vamp had been spending its days. There were no streetlights where they were. The only light they had was lights from the inhabited part of town glowing in the distance and the half full moon in the sky. Stiles looked back at the vampire as it came towards them, subtly circling them like it was a predator and they were its helpless prey.
"What are a couple of kids doing out so late? Don't you know there are monsters out?" The vampire, a male, said smarmily.
Stiles couldn't help rolling his eyes as he stepped away from Allison, giving her room to do her thing. She shifted so her crossbow was behind her legs. She batted her eyes at the vampire, playing up her sweet looks. It always made vampires underestimate her. "Are you saying you're a monster?"
The vampire smiled, ducking his head so it was in shadow and when he looked back up he had his vamp face on, forehead ridged and fierce, eyes yellow and teeth razor sharp. Ugh, it was such a cliché move. Stiles couldn’t begin to describe how many cocky vampires used that move. "That's exactly what I'm saying."
Allison smirked. "Good." Then she swung her arm out, launching the arrow she had notched in her crossbow. The vampire was fast, growling as he shifted enough for the wooden arrow to miss his heart. She tossed aside the crossbow and Stiles caught it, reloading it without looking so he could watch the awesome fighting taking place.
Somehow all vampires had an innate fighting ability when they dug themselves out of the ground. Allison had a natural ability as well when she had awoken as a Slayer, but she trained to hone her abilities. Stiles watched the battle, as the two traded punches and kicks. Allison ducked a punch and leapt up to slam her knee into the vampire’s nose. Stiles relaxed as he watched it happen. He could tell Allison was playing with the vampire. She was really just letting off some steam, getting in a workout before they got back on the road.
Allison kicked out the feet of the vampire, dropping down to straddle the demon and whipping out a stake from an inner jacket pocket. She cleanly staked the vampire in the heart, the body turning to dust and leaving just the two of them alone on the street. Allison stood up, dusting off her pants and putting away her stake. Stiles handed over her crossbow. “Feel better?”
Allison smiled brightly, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. “So much. Thanks for the pit stop, Stiles.”
He rubbed at his cheek, playfully shoving Allison’s shoulder. “Ah you know me, never one to turn down watching you be a badass.”
They made their way back to their hotel room, chatting about where they wanted to go next. Behind them a gust of wind picked up the dusted remains of a vampire and carried them away from the sleepy little town in Idaho.
----
“Ally?”
“Yes, Stiles?”
“I’m bored.”
“We’ve been on the road for ten minutes.”
“I know. It’s been a very long ten minutes. I’ve taken the time to contemplate my purpose in this universe, how they get the cream into a Twinkie, and why you pull off leather pants better than me even though I have a perfect bubble butt.”
“So… a typical ten minutes for you.”
“Pretty much.”
----
53 years after the end of Rush Hour 2, James Carter is no longer a tax auditor, but a turkey wrangler on the streets of inside my bellybutton. Lee is now the bodyguard for his friend Stiles. Lee is still upset with Carter about an incident in catacombs when Carter accidentally shot Lee`s girlfriend, cupcake baker Isabella Molina, in the ear canal.
During the World Criminal Court discussions, as Stiles addresses the importance to fight the Triad, he announces that he knows the spontaneous of the Triad leadership known as the Shy Shen. Suddenly, Stiles takes a hippo in the big toe, disrupting the conference. Lee pursues the assassin and corners him, discovering that the assassin is his brother, Bill Nye. When Lee hesitates to shoot Bill Nye, Carter shows up wacking towards the two and eloquently sprinkles Lee over, allowing Bill Nye to escape.
“Oh god, that’s hilarious. Hippo in the big toe.”
“Stiles! Eyes on the road!”
“Damn it, where the hell did that cow come from!?”
----
Stiles checked and double checked his map, squinting out the window. It was after dark, the headlights of their car the only thing illuminating the dusty two lane road they were on. It was harder to be road tripping in the fall, because the sun was setting earlier each day. He turned the map over, searching for any signs on the dark road.
"We shouldn't be too far. My dad's directions were thorough," Stiles said, glancing at Allison who was gripping the steering wheel tightly. He knew she wasn't nervous because it was dark. She thrived in the darkness, it was a part of being the Vampire Slayer. She was probably more concerned about any wildlife or other drivers coming out of nowhere and crashing into them.
"You said that five miles ago."
"I know. But I haven't seen the boulder that looks like a Lighthouse. My dad said it would be the first left turn after that."
"Stiles, I'm all for visiting your dad's childhood home town, but we need to find somewhere to stop for the night. Let's go back to that motel we saw half an hour ago and we'll try again tomorrow."
"We've come too far, Allison. We have a hotel reservation and everything."
"Stiles-"
"Allison!"
She reacted just as he shouted, slamming on the brakes and bringing their car to a sudden lurching stop. In the shining spotlight of the car’s headlights was a man. His shirt was ripped and blood covered his hands. His face was shifted in the form of a vampire. Before Allison could do more than unbuckle her seatbelt to deal with the guy another figure came from the side of the road. Another guy whose face was also shifted, but he wasn’t a vampire, though the similarities were striking. His eyes also glowed blue while vampire eyes were a sickly yellow. The newcomer tackled the vampire and the two started fighting, right in front of them, in the middle of the road. Weren’t supernatural creatures supposed to be discreet?
Allison got out of the car, pulling a stake from one of the many hiding spots she had for her go-to weapon of mass vampire destruction. Stiles stayed in the car. All of his goodies were packed up and it would take too long for him to reach his supplies. He didn’t carry a weapon at all times like Allison did. She was just a badass like that.
He watched from the front passenger seat as Allison approached the fighting pair, circling the action. The vampire seemed to have the upper hand, but only by a bit. The blood on his hands seems to have come from the other guy, who had blood running from a wound in his head and from a bite on his shoulder.
Allison found an opening when the vampire got the other guy on the ground before being kicked in the stomach. The momentum of the kick sent him careening back into Allison’s waiting stake. The vampire was dusted in an instant. She approached the guy on the ground, but he flinched away from her. He stumbled to his feet and dashed back into the surrounding forest, faster than anything Stiles had seen. Allison came back to the car, shutting her door and slowly buckling in.
“So… we’re still going to Beacon Hills, right?” he said, nodding in the direction the guy had disappeared to, which judging by Stiles internal GPS was in the direction of his father’s childhood home. Most likely anyway. Maybe just potentially. Actually he had no idea but he was hopeful this amount of supernatural activity was coming from that town. Allison, while a total badass fighter, also had a very strict moral code (unlike Stiles). If someone was in trouble because of the supernatural then she would help, no matter what. Even if it meant dragging Stiles out of bed at three in the morning on a Saturday. He was like a bear woken from hibernation if he was awake before noon on the weekends.
Allison shifted the car into drive and they crept forward while Stiles looked around for any signs of civilization.
----
They found the town of Beacon Hills after another hour of driving. The town was actually bigger than they both expected, being so well hidden in the forest, and it was a relief to know they’d be staying in a hotel room styled from at least the last decade. The hotel staff who checked them in warned about the curfew in effect. Everyone stays in well lit areas of the downtown areas or in their homes after dark. Keeping to those rules, though, they could do as they pleased.
Beacon Hills was one of the few places they planned to stop on their trip. While most of it was ambling around to find those tourist pit-stops like the world’s largest ball of string, they did want to stop in a few specific places. Stiles’ father had grown up in Beacon Hills, where he had met and married Stiles’ mom. when an opportunity came up to be a captain of a detective squad in a major city, he dusted off the dirt from Beacon Hills and hadn’t looked back. Until he heard about Stiles’ road trip and insisted he stop by to see where his dad had grown up.
He gave Stiles a list of places to stop for pictures, food and memories. Though with this new supernatural development, Stiles probably won’t get through the list as quickly as he thought he would.
The next morning he followed Allison as she walked into town, listening in for gossip as they went for breakfast at a local dinner. Stiles snatched up the local newspaper to peruse for unusual happening that could be attributed to the supernatural while Allison used her sweet girl persona to chat up their waitress and people sitting nearby.
Stiles smirked, finding a story, down in the corner of a page in the middle of the newspaper talking about people swearing they were hearing wolves in the forest and not just coyotes. Even though wolves hadn’t been in California for years.
Bingo.
----
The woods were quiet as he followed Allison. The nearly full moon was good illumination through the pine trees so they didn’t have to use their flashlights and risk attracting something their way or scaring away what they were hunting. They couldn’t do much about the crunching of forest underbrush beneath their shoes but the sound echoed through the trees.
Stiles had read about a report of wolf-howls from this part of the forest in the paper and thought it would be a good place to start their search. After dark of course. Very rarely did they ever get any good supernatural info when the sun was up. Stiles was practically vibrating with the prospect of the information they could gather on the hunt. In the years that Allison had been the Slayer they hadn’t had to deal with werewolves. Being from a city it was mostly vampires they fought and demons attracted to the Hellmouth that had lived beneath their city. Werewolves tended to live in more rural areas, to be closer to woodlands and further away from people. If Stiles’ hunch was right (and it usually was) they might meet their first werewolf tonight.
Allison froze and Stiles awkwardly stopped himself between steps, one foot raised and his arms flailing. His BFF slowly looked around before aiming her crossbow at a little cluster of trees. “I know you’re there so unless you want an arrow through your throat I suggest you show yourself,” she said into the night.
“My, my, aren’t we confident,” a man said, seeming to melt from the shadows and coming into the moonlight.
“I have every right to be confident,” Allison shot back.
The man grinned. “Why, because you have a weapon? Run back home, little girl, before you get hurt.”
Allison gestured with her crossbow. “Tell your friend to step out as well.”
The man’s smile dropped and he frowned, a confused furrow to his brow. He lifted a hand and jerked two fingers forward. Another figure appeared just behind the man, and it looked like it was the guy that had fought the vampire on the road last night, though his face was normal looking and he showed no signs of being wounded.
Actually no, scratch that. The guy’s face wasn’t normal looking at all. It was blazing hot. Damn, Stiles needed that stubble rubbing between his thighs ASAP.
Allison shot an un-amused glance over her shoulder at him and Stiles very much worried he had said that out loud. But since Mr. Devastatingly-Handsome-With-Cheek-Bones-That-Could-Cut-Glass wasn’t trying to rip his head off, it was likely Allison just knew where his head was with the arrival of Mysterious Man in the Woods #2.
The first guy was looking Allison over, head tilted to one side. “Who are you?”
Allison smirked and Stiles rolled his eyes, preparing himself for the inevitable. “I’m the Slayer,” she replied cockily, like she did every time someone asked that. All who heard that tended to do one of two things. Either they started fighting or they fled.
This guy did neither. In fact all swagger left his posture and he shared a quick wide-eyed glance with I’m-Too-Sexy-For-My-Shirt personification behind him. The first guy stepped forward, holding out a hand. “My name is Peter and I’m the Alpha of the Hale Pack, and I could very much use your help.”
----
After some quick introductions, Peter led them through the woods to a house, which seemed to be in a renovation phase. Stiles glanced over at Derek, nephew to Peter, and still stupidly handsome. Ugh, Stiles hadn’t been in such a constant state of arousal since he got his first boner and learned about sex.
As they got closer Stiles realized that his earlier assessment of the house was wrong. It wasn’t being renovated. Well it was, but it seemed not by choice. Black stains leapt from the tops of the windows on the south side of the house, indicating a very hot and violent fire had happened inside. That half of the house seemed to be in ruins, the ceilings caved in and smoke residue clinging to every surface. The other half of the house seemed to be in better shape and was in the middle of repairs, drywall and tools on the lawn out front.
Following two strangers to their home, in the middle of the night, in the middle of some strange woods, was everything Stiles’ dad told him not to do. And Stiles wouldn’t (probably) if his best friend wasn’t the Slayer and most badass person to ever walk the face of the earth.
Peter showed them into the standing part of the house where it seemed they had converted an old dining room into a studio apartment. A futon with mussed blankets was set up in one corner with a sleeping bag on a cot next to it. A couch was shoved on the adjoining wall, showing signs of also serving as a bed. A hot plate, coffee maker, mini fridge and waffle iron sat in a corner with a drawing table with mismatched chairs.
It all felt a little sad and Stiles watched as Peter offered them seat and Derek pulled out two cans of Coke from the mini fridge to offer them. Stiles popped the top of his, holding it awkwardly in his lap as he tried not to stare too hard at the miserable little room in a burnt out house.
Peter cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair. He shared a look with Derek before his nephew had retreated to a corner, folding his arms over his muscled chest and looking out a window.
“We’ve had some problems recently with a vampire coven.”
Stiles leaned forward and shared a look with Allison. Vampire covens were something they didn’t run into often. While vampires would always be soulless demons, they were better behaved in a group, just as werewolves were safer in a pack rather than alone. Stiles and Allison had only met one coven, whom had helped them with a particularly difficult demon looking to destroy their entire city. The vampires didn’t take too kindly to their home being destroyed. They used willing thralls, refused to kill humans (ever from their claims but Stiles only took that with a grain of salt), and even drank pigs blood on occasion. They were definitely friendlier than the vampires who dug themselves out of graves that Allison had to deal with night after night on her patrols.
“What happened? Did they encroach on your territory?”
Peter shook his head. “Our pack has had a truce with the local coven for centuries. We started off as the daylight protectors before we started to protect the humans who came to the area. The coven didn’t kill humans and we helped them get blood and have a safe place to sleep. They also gave us information on any rogues moving through the area or anything else that might threaten the town.”
“Sounds like you had a good deal. What changed?” Allison prompted.
“Their leader was killed. No one knows what happened, but his Childe blamed us. My sister, Talia, was the Alpha before me. She tried to reason with him but he wouldn’t listen.” Peter looked at them, eyes haunted. “They locked our family in the house and set fire to it. They all burned alive.”
Stiles swallowed thickly, clutching his can of soda tight. The ruins of the house they were in were large, implying a very big family had lived there. He closed his eyes, sympathy making his chest feel tight. “I’m so sorry,” Allison spoke up.
Peter nodded with a sad little smile on his lips. “It happened two years ago. I was out with Derek and his sister Laura when it happened. We were visiting colleges for graduate…” He trailed off, looking down at the floor.
“I had planned to keep us far away from here, but Laura started hearing some disturbing stories from Beacon Hills. Mostly unexplained deaths and disappearances. She wanted to come back. So she did. Derek and I followed and we’ve been trying to reason with the coven, but it’s no use. There are only three of us and there’s a dozen of them.”
Derek shifted in the corner, seeming to hunch further into himself, mouth pinched as he continued to stare resolutely out the window. Peter sighed, shaking his head. “Last night they attacked in force. We’d held them when they only sent a few but last night it was the entire coven. They took Laura. Derek and I barely made it out.”
Allison stood up and Stiles saw her righteous fury look in place. It was the expression she got when someone needed her help. Peter’s eyes widened and he stood up as well. Allison picked up her cross bow, checking that it was loaded. “Just tell me where they are. I’ll deal with them.” She said.
Stiles chugged the last of his drink, crushing the can and leaping to his feet. “Hell yes. Those vampires won’t know what hit them.”
“There’s too many,” Peter protested. Derek had stepped away from the wall, arms at his side as he stared at Allison and Stiles with bewildered eyes.
His best friend shared a smirk with him. “Believe me. A dozen vamps is a walk in the park. We’ve dealt with a Hellmouth.”
Peter didn’t protest anymore after that, though he did insist he and Derek would come along to help.
The vampire coven was staying in a house on the edge of town, some Victorian monstrosity with blacked out windows. How cliché of them. Allison surveyed the manor from across the street. The lights were on inside and Peter said he could hear several voices. He couldn't get an exact number since vampires didn't have heartbeats, though he could tell Laura was still alive in there. Which Stiles found frankly cool. Werewolves could hear heartbeats? These guys were so interesting. He hoped they would let him pick their brains a bit. He'd love to update his chapter on werewolves in his bestiary. All he had were second hand accounts translated through five different languages and about 100 years out of date.
He raked his eyes over Derek’s form. Frankly, picking that guy's brain for info about werewolves was a pretty low priority. Maybe getting first hand empirical data about their stamina.
Allison laid out the plan, getting input from Stiles and Peter while Derek looked broodingly delicious nearby.
"I'll go with Derek," Stiles said eagerly when Allison discussed splitting into two teams.
Derek raised an eyebrow at Stiles but didn't protest so Stiles internally fist-pumped. They separated as Allison and Peter went to the front door, providing the first offense while Stiles and Derek would come in from the back to catch them off guard.
Stiles peeked in one of the windows as he followed Derek to the back of the house but couldn’t see much except a glow at the edges of the black-out paint the vampires had used on the windows. When they got to the back porch they knelt next to the door. Derek cracked his neck, his face changing into something less human. Then he snapped his fingers out, claws now curling from the tips. Stiles patted his pockets, feeling he should contribute to the gearing up montage they were apparently participating in. He pulled out a ball point pen and a receipt from the gas station. Derek rolled his glowing blue eyes as Stiles shrugged sheepishly. He was just noticing that Derek's eyebrows were missing in this form. Freaky.
"Just stay behind me," Derek grumbled quietly. "Don't worry about showing off for your girlfriend. These guys are the real deal."
Stiles puffed up, opening his mouth to tell this guy that Allison was not his girlfriend when he heard a crash from inside and Allison’s battle cry. That was their cue. Stiles huffed as Derek slammed through the back door and he followed behind, arms crossed over his chest.
All noises stopped though and Stiles picked up his pace, weaving through the house. A hand shot out of a darkened doorway and Stiles squeaked as it wrapped around his throat. Damnit, rookie mistake. He always checked every room in a new place. He watched enough cop shows. Crap, his dad would be so disappointed.
A vampire breathed a putrid puff of cool air over his throat, goosebumps speckling his skin in reaction. Stiles stilled when the hand around his throat tightened. "Come with me, precious," the vampire purred in his ear. "I could use some more leverage to deal with these pesky puppies. You should have listened to the runt and stayed behind."
Stiles was led through the house to the living room. Inside he found Derek, Allison, and Peter standing with their backs to a wall, and two vampires each holding them. Another vampire was disarming Allison. It would take a while. Across from them there was another hostage, a young woman with dark hair. Laura then. She had multiple vampire bites up and down her arms. She was only wearing a bra and panties, more bite marks on her legs and other suspicious stains.
Damn, they'd really done a number on her.
The vampire holding him chuckled as they entered the room and all heads swung to look at them. So he was being held by the ringleader. Perfect.
"Well, well, well, what a cozy little reunion we have here."
The vamp dragged Stiles over to Laura who hung limply in her captor's hold, eyes glazed. He shared a look with Allison, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. No matter their age, vampires were all the same, haughty, self-centered and loving the sound of their own voice. They thought themselves immortal. What idiots, they were only immortal until they met the pointy end of wooden stake or got a sunburn.
Derek and Peter looked panicked, growling and flashing their eyes and looking ready to spring into action. Allison was relaxed, smiling sweetly at the vampire who had pulled the final wooden stake from her hair. She shook out the long strands of her hair, looking like some kind of supermodel as she did so. Ugh, Stiles was surrounded by beautiful people. It was enough to give a guy a complex.
"I must say I thought I made myself clear, Peter, what with that little barbecue we had, that you're no longer welcome here. We don't need lapdogs anymore." The vampire holding Stiles said, fake British accent making him sound like a wannabe rather than authentic. Lame.
"Shut up, Lucifer." Peter snarled.
Stiles actually did roll his eyes. "Seriously. You named yourself Lucifer. Dude, you are such a cliché."
The vampire douche, aka Lucifer, tightened the hand around his throat briefly. Probably meant to be a warning but Stiles was notorious for not taking a hint. "Be quiet, human."
"Seriously, dude. You couldn't try any harder to pretend like you’re some guy from the Renaissance." Stiles said, waving his hand around to indicate the tacky knockoff decorations making the house look like a replica and not the real deal.
"How could you possibly know that? I'm immortal. I haven't aged since my Sire turned me."
"Because I've met vampires who are hundreds of years old, you piece of vampire trash. They don't cling to the past, they embrace the future. It's the only way they'll survive longer than fledglings like you."
Lucifer snarled, jerking Stiles head to the side to threaten him with a bite. "I should rip your throat out."
" Lucifer, stop!" Stiles looked at Derek who was trembling where he stood, looking at Stiles with wide, desperate eyes. Oh, he was worried about Stiles. Awesome. "You're not going to walk out of here alive, not if you kill Stiles and my sister. Just let them go and we’ll leave you alone."
Damn, Derek was willing to walk away from avenging his family for Stiles. That’s so sweet. Well he was probably doing it for Laura as well but still.
"What the hell is a Stiles?" Lucifer said puzzled but Derek ignored him.
"This is Allison," Derek said, nodding at her. "She's the Slayer."
"The what?"
Stiles closed his eyes, barely able to believe this guy had managed to take over a vampire coven if he didn't know anything. He was going to die; he was just too stupid to live.
"Stiles," Allison spoke up. "Can we hurry this up?"
Stiles frowned at her. "I figured you wanted a workout."
"Too many variables,” she said, tossing her hair over one shoulder. “Besides, I'm sure a werewolf could be a decent sparring partner. You should have seen the moves Peter had when we busted in here."
"So… finish it?"
"Finish it."
Stiles closed his eyes, taking even breaths as he focused his thoughts and energy. When he opened his eyes, they were dark pools of inky silver. He thrust out a hand to eye level, holding his palm up. His voice dropped to echo the voices of a thousand lives before his own. A chant passed his lips as a little ball of light formed floating over his outstretched hand.
"Apricum," he shouted at the end of his spell and the ball over his hand flashed with all the power and light of the sun.
The vampires all screamed out as they were dusted instantly. Stiles let out a deep breath and his eyes blinked back to normal as the light faded over his hand faded. He reached over his shoulder and dusted Lucifer’s ash off of his jacket. "What a dickhead," he said.
Derek and Peter looked around the room, taking in the piles of dust. Someone groaned and Stiles turned to see Laura on the floor, curled up on herself and trembling. Derek rushed by and fell to his knees, grabbing his sister and holding her to his chest. Peter joined them, brushing her hair away. Stiles looked away from the little family as Allison came to his side, sliding her various weapons back into place. She finished by twisting up her hair and pinning it with a small wooden stake.
"I'm feeling a desperate need for pizza," Stiles said, rubbing at his stomach. Using his magic like that always made him hungry. If he used as talisman or a potion it was easier, but dragging the energy from himself and the world around was a little more taxing.
After dealing with a hell mouth and using his magic to close it, though, conjuring a little sunlight in the middle of the night was nothing. Pizza was still needed to refuel of course.
Allison smiled and patted his shoulder. "I'm sure there's a place open."
They looked back at the Hale family, holding one another and decided to take their leave. They could see when they weren't needed. Stiles glanced back before walking out the door and caught Derek's eye, saluting the guy and smiling. Derek didn't smile, but his face visibly relaxed, and he nodded at Stiles. Stiles left the house with a spring in his step. There was a totally hot guy whom might be into him.
Best road trip ever.
----
They followed up with the Hales two days later. Allison drove their car up the dirt road leading to the property and found all three of them working on the house. Derek and Peter put aside their tools and dusted off their hands when they drove up but Laura kept working, harshly hammering away at some nails.
Peter smiled at them when they got out of the car. "I can't thank you enough for your help."
Allison and Stiles both shrugged, sharing a grin. "All part of the job," Stiles said, smiling at Derek who looked away quickly. Derek was wearing a white tank top and low slung jeans. Be still his poor virgin heart.
"How's she doing?" Allison said, nodding at Laura.
Peter sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. "As well as can be expected. Time will be the best balm, and being productive."
Stiles nodded and wiggled his fingers in her direction. "Well let me know. I know some pretty great healing magic. Just some stuff to sooth the memories."
Laura paused in her hammering, head cocked to one side. Right, werewolf hearing. She resumed her work, but it was a little calmer rather than taking out her anger on inanimate objects.
An awkward silence fell over them and Allison bounced on her heels. "You know I was serious about wanting a sparring partner. You interested?" she said, addressing Peter.
The Alpha smiled and nodded, stepping back and further into the clearing in front of the house. Allison grinned and skipped forward, stretching her arms over her head. Stiles went to sit on the hood of their car. Derek sided up to him, leaning back against the car with his arms crossed over his chest. Allison and Peter squared off, knees bent and arms loose as they watched one another. She moved first, throwing her favorite go-to roundhouse kick to the head. Peter avoided easily and countered with a punch which Allison deflected and followed-up with an elbow to his chest.
They were off, moves getting swifter and swifter and turning into a deadly dance. Stiles watched, rapt and in awe of the fighting. They both weren't moving to kill one another, or hurt each other really. They were just testing each other and finding new moves to counter a new style and partner.
Stiles saw Laura stop her work to lean against an empty door frame, watching the match.
He turned to look at Derek and grinned. "So just for the record, Allison isn't my girlfriend. We're just BFFs."
Derek shot him a quick glance out of the corner of his eye but didn't say anything, still watching his uncle fight the Vampire Slayer.
Stiles sighed and watched the fight, leaning back on his hands. "In fact I'm incredibly bi-curious, emphasis on the curious. Why limit myself when there are so many possibilities out there, am I right?"
Still nothing from Derek, though his hands clenched where they were curled over his impressive biceps.
"In fact recently I've found my taste turned towards the more ruggedly handsome, bad-boys who are actually good-boys in leather jackets."
Derek glanced over at the leather jacket hanging from a shovel stuck in the ground. The same jacket he had worn the night they had faced down the cover. He still said nothing in reply.
Stiles drummed his fingers against the hood of the car. Okay, no bite. New tactic.
"You know I actually closed a Hellmouth. Well Deaton helped, and Allison too of course but that's a given. She's always helping. That sunlight spell is just the tip of the iceberg of the awesomeness of me. Deaton says I’m the most powerful warlock in years."
Nada. It was like pulling teeth with this guy. Stiles was getting desperate.
"I like curly fries and watching puppy videos on YouTube when I can't sleep."
Finally Derek looked at him, a small smile pulling at his lips and making him look even more beautiful than before. "You emphasized curious but made no mention of experience."
Stiles chuckled and rubbed at the back of his head. "Yeah. There's very little of that. Actually there's none."
"Do you want some?" Derek said, looking back down at the ground quickly. His cheeks took on a pinkish tint as he frowned at his feet. Oh… he was shy. Damnit, this guy was too much.
"All the yeses," he said eagerly, jumping down from the car.
Derek head snapped up to look at him with wide eyes. "Now?"
"Now." Stiles said confidently, even though his stomach was quivering with anticipation and nerves, holding out a hand. Derek hesitated a moment and then reached out and took his offer. Stiles grinned madly, throwing a thumbs-up at Allison who waved at him as she blocked a kick from Peter. The Alpha also waved, aiming a punch at Allison's head.
Stiles lead Derek into the woods, finding a nice comfortable tree to lean against and dragged Derek close by their clasped hands. "How about we start at the beginning, with a kiss," he said, tilting his face up.
Derek shook his head but was smiling as he did so. He reached out and pressed his free hand against Stiles' jaw, thumb tracing over his cheek. Derek leaned in, his warm breath fanning over Stiles' lips in an almost caress. "Lesson one," Derek breathed and closed the gap between their mouths.
----
Lesson one led to lesson two which led to an unforgettable lesson three. By lesson fifty two Stiles stopped counting.
----
"Come-on Derek, I need a noun. Anything. Give me something, sweet cheeks."
"Why are you making me do this?"
"Because we're on a road trip lover-boy and its tradition… cuddle-monkey."
"Stop calling me weird pet-names."
"Then give me a noun, Stud-muffin."
"Your face."
"I'll take it. And stop glaring. Didn't your mother ever warn you it could stick like that? You don't want to be known as grumpy mc-grumper pants for the rest of your life, do you?"
"Just finish your damn Mad Lib."
"Fine!"
Dear your mom,
I am having a(n) null time at camp. The counselor is coastal and the food is closed. I met Allison and we became illegal friends. Unfortunately, Allison is emotional and I quarreled my colon so we couldn’t go blustering like everybody else. I need more peaches and a your face sharpener, so please sinuously mime more when you roar back.
Your uncle peter,
Derek
----