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Peter is apprehensive when Beacon County Sheriff pulls him over. He's got a body in the trunk of his rental car. It's a favor for his sister.
"Sir, do you know why I pulled you over?"
"I was speeding, Officer..."
"Not quite," says the Sheriff. He pulls off his sunglasses to examine Peter's license and rental paperwork. "Black Audi was seen driving away from the Preserves. I have questions for you, if you'd be so kind as to follow me to the station, Mr. Hale."
"But I--" Peter can't exactly assault an officer on dashcam.
"Where exactly were you going in such a hurry? 90 in a 40. Double fine corridor."
"It's my..." Peter thinks up any reason that would garner the Sheriff's sympathy. He spies the wedding ring.
"... my child is being born. I have to go. I know that you're doing your job. Give me a citation if you have to." Peter tries begging. "I can't be late, please."
Sheriff steps sideways. His tongue flicks from inside his cheek to his lips.
"This your first one?"
"Yes," lies Peter.
"Alright. Well how about I escort you to the hospital? With my lights on, you can tail me through intersections. You'll make it," says the Sheriff confidently.
"Oh no, I couldn't--"
"I insist," says the Sheriff. "Beacon Memorial? I'm actually on my way there myself."
"Yes," answers Peter. In a whole entire city, there's gotta be one miserable soul who's just given birth to a wee fatherless babe.
Peter saunters up to the patient services desk in Maternity. A cute nurse in maroon scrubs with curly hair and name tag Melissa greets him. "Yes, hi?"
"Hello, are there any mothers here who are giving birth to babies and there isn't a father?" asks Peter.
Melissa's smile fades. She leans forward as though sagging beneath her burden of knowledge. Like she's seen too many men but not enough fathers.
"A lot," answers Melissa.
"Thank God. That's excellent," says Peter. He looks over his shoulder and extreme irritation lances through him when he spies the Sheriff leaning against the wall with his hands folded and tucked under his pits.
Peter does a cursory glance around Maternity before he sees a young man still gowned up in a wheelchair and holding a swaddled infant. He's got short dark hair, skin so pale from exhaustion that various moles stand out in sharp relief. He's much younger of an Omega than who Peter tends to pursue. And certainly not for making babies. Peter's got his many many assets to think of.
Peter takes a cleansing breath, thinks of the body in the trunk that he's gotta dispose of before he's in the wind, never to step foot in Beacon again. He approaches the stranger.
"Hey, sweetie!" says Peter. He rests one hand lightly on the wheelchair handlebar. His voice drops. "I'm trying to get out of a speeding ticket. Play along. I'll pay you."
"You're late, schnookums," retorts the Omega. His quick glance tracks Peter's watch, shoes, and the luxury car fob. "You gonna pay up serious diaper money, honey bunny."
"Or should I say Daddy?" His lips quirk into a smile more suited on a conniving gremlin.
Sheriff approaches them with his hands on his belt. Weariness enters his eyes as he surveys Peter.
"Stiles?" inquires the Sheriff to the Omega. He looks between the two of them. Peter in his all black outfit and Stiles swathed in a gown and a white robe with a red-faced newborn sucking its fist.
The Sheriff's eyes are like flint. "What are the chances? So you're the one. Nice of you to show after several months MIA, Mr. Hale."
Peter is not in any position to deny any wrongdoing. It's either him or the body in the trunk who's a deadbeat.
"It's complicated, Dad," says Stiles. "Can we not like do this at the hospital? My l'il Maybe baby isn't even a day old."
"Maybe baby?" repeats Peter.
"Her name's Mabel," says Stiles. "You wanna hold her, Pookie Bear?" His tone carries an edge when he addresses Peter with the pet names.
Peter's quite unlucky to be caught in the family way, especially the Sheriff's family. And the Sheriff thinks that Peter screwed his son and left him, too.
Peter's really got to sell it.
He's got to mind his strength when he takes the tiny bundle. The pungence from water of the womb clings to her wrinkled raisin skin. It's hard not to think of his nieces.
"Hello, Mabel. Call me Daddy," says Peter wryly. His gross miscalculation will cost him dearly; Daddy's personal assistant will be sending her checks for birthdays and Christmas.
"Dad, can you hold Maybe baby for a sec? I need to use the restroom," says Stiles, cleverly insuring that he and Peter could talk in private. Stiles turns his wheels rather than let Peter help. Stiles stands up when they're around the corner.
Stiles extends his hand. "I'm Stiles Stilinski. What's your name, stud muffin?"
"Peter. I'll thank you to remain on first name basis with me."
"While I appreciate your offer to step up as a dad, I'm planning to raise my daughter alone. You can make your getaway now."
"Well, darling, I can't just let you walk out of my life. The Sheriff will throw the book at whoever he thinks abandoned you and your baby. It's a priority for me to work on our relationship."
"If that's what you want, Honey Lumpkins. Sure, we can totally exchange phone numbers and collaborate your bullshit story," says Stiles, in a light voice which doesn't fool Peter one bit.
"How much do I need to pay you to use my actual name?" asks Peter. He would prefer bearable terms for this arrangement.
"Oh? Naming rights? You couldn't meet my price, Speedy McQueen," answers Stiles, oblivious to Peter's net worth. He scrunches his small upturned nose. "If you'll excuse me, I have a jellyfish to pass through my birthing channel. I suggest you only talk about how cute the baby is to her granddad."
Peter has seen a lot of action as a werewolf, but he is prompt in hurrying away from the bathroom occupied by Stiles.
"How long will you be sticking around town, Peter?" says the Sheriff. His face looks impressively tough considering how he cradles the tiny baby with the little pink hat. Mabel's red cheek squishes against the Sheriff's similarly ruddy skin.
"I don't have any set plans," says Peter. He feels very much unwelcome. "I'll head out soon."
"You figure out your plans," says the Sheriff. "Figure out how to meet your obligations and responsibilities as Mabel's father. If you disappear on my son again, don't bother returning to Northern California."
"I wouldn't dream of it," says Peter. He changes the topic. "She is a very cute baby, after all."
"Uh huh. I'll let you off with a warning, Peter. Don't ever let me catch you speeding with my baby on board." The Sheriff sighs.
Peter may be a stone cold killer but he's not heartless. Peter sits with the Stilinskis for a short visit, but he leaves with his ears perked towards the heated discussion between Stiles and his Sheriff father.
After Peter ditches the body and wipes the rental car clean, he sends a text for the express purpose of obtaining pertinent information.
<<Are you single?>>
<<We are so not dating Hot Stuff.>> Stiles shuts him down immediately. Smart.
Peter likes clever boys.
FIN