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Peter was pleased to see that Stiles' dinner was a great success with his Pack. It wasn't fancy but it was flavorful and everyone was happy with the food. Everyone else had appointments, Friday nights were popular appointment times in the shop, and they had gone back to the shop. It was just Stiles and Peter at the moment.
Stiles babbled about future meals he might make as Peter received a text on his phone.
tomorrow 3 pm
That was good timing. Peter didn't have any appointments until the evening. He replied we will be there
"Can we go grocery shopping? Or do you do delivery?" Stiles asked. "I could do a bunch of different things if you had more options on hand." When Peter didn't immediately answer, Stiles took a breath. Peter scented embarrassment coming from Stiles. "I mean... if you want me to. I don't have to..."
"Stiles," Peter said gently. "It's fine. You don't have to cook for us, unless you truly want to."
Stiles huffed and rubbed his forehead. "Sorry. I'm just worried about, well, earning my keep. You're putting me up and feeding me and, well, I don't want to take advantage of you."
Peter held in the smile. Stiles was earnest in a way Peter had rarely seen. That meant Stiles had no idea who the Hale Pack was or what they really did. It was refreshing to meet someone who had no ulterior motives.
Peter went over and held out his hand. Stiles looked puzzled for a moment but gamely put his hand in Peter's.
"The Hale Pack offers sanctuary to Mieczslaw Stilinski," Peter said formally. He had learned Stiles real name when he had seen his ID when he did the tattoo. It was appropriate to use Stiles' real name when making this offer. "We offer refuge in a time of need and only ask that you respect our boundaries."
Stiles looked down at their joined hands, then up into Peter's eyes. Peter looked back into the whiskey-colored eyes.
"I accept your offer of sanctuary and thank you for refuge in my time of need," Stiles replied. "I will honor your boundaries in all that I do."
A white light flowed over both of them.
Stiles' eyes got wider. "Umm... what was that? Did I do something wrong?"
Peter smiled broadly. "Mother moon has blessed our promise. And I suspect that is more you than me, but it took both of us to do that."
"What did we do?" Stiles asked.
Peter grinned. "Think of it as pinky swearing," he said. "I offered you a place with us and you promised to be respectful. Nothing more."
Stiles looked down to their joined hands.
"I simply wanted to make you more comfortable," Peter admitted. "You are worried about your interview, you barely know us, and your previous experience with a Pack was... less than reasonable. It was a simple way to assure you."
Stiles gave a small laugh. "True," he admitted ruefully. "Thank you. It does feel better."
"Good," Peter said, reluctantly letting Stiles' hand go and stepping back. "Now, groceries are delivered but there is a grocery store down the street. They will bring anything that is too awkward to carry but it is a good source of fresh fruits and vegetables. You are welcome to go and see what strikes your fancy, and--" Peter looked seriously at Stiles "--put it on our account. No spending what money you have trying to feed a pack of 'wolves."
"Been there, done that," Stiles admitted. "I had a couple of jobs on campus and seemed to be the only one who had money when it came to groceries."
"There will be none of that here," Peter said. "We can afford to feed ourselves, and others, with no problems."
Stiles grinned. "I can work with that. Thank you for, well, stopping me from doing something stupid."
"An honest effort is never stupid," Peter replied. "We will appreciate any cooking you wish to do but do not feel obligated to cook three meals a day. We've been living on take-out and quick meals quite well. Anything you want to make is a treat."
Stiles blushed and Peter had the sudden urge to see how far down that blush ran.
"I have just gotten a message from Esmerelda and she will meet with us tomorrow afternoon at three," Peter said. "After our little... display just now, I am reluctant to let you wander about by yourself. I have an appointment shortly, but let me see if one of the others could go to the store with you."
"You don't have to..." Stiles started to protest.
"It's for your own safety," Peter said pointedly. "You have enough untrained magic that you're like catnip at the moment. You also don't know how to protect yourself. It would be irresponsible of me to allow anything to happen to you."
Stiles held up his hands. "All right," he gave in. "Sure. I'd like to put something together for breakfast tomorrow and, at the very least, we need more eggs. Also, you need some staples, if nothing else. I'll put a list together and I can keep myself busy until someone can go with me."
"Thank you," Peter said. "And restocking the staples is something that doesn't get done that often, so feel free to make a list. Separate things you'd like to use over the weekend from things that we should have and don't and I'll put in separate orders for that."
Stiles nodded.
"Feel free to hang out for a bit," Peter said. "I have to go back to the shop but you're welcome to watch some television or see if there's anything to read on the bookshelf. It's limited but eclectic."
Stiles held up his phone. "I have hours of reading right here," he admitted. "I can entertain myself for a bit."
"Call the shop if you need something," Peter said, jotting the number on a piece of paper. "Someone always answers that phone."
"Good to know," Stiles nodded.
"And thank you for an excellent dinner," Peter said. "And for taking care of my Pack."
"You are welcome!" Stiles grinned.
Peter went back to the tattoo shop. He looked at the appointment calendar and went to Derek who was working on a customer's shoulder. The woman seemed zoned out and Peter spoke softly, knowing Derek would hear.
"Stiles would like to do a little grocery shopping and I don't want him to go alone," Peter said. "When you're done here, could you go with him?"
Derek shrugged easily without turning away from his work. "Sure."
"Thank you," Peter nodded.
Peter's customer came in and Peter got to work. The design the man had chosen for his back wasn't unique but it had a fussy design that required Peter's full attention. He absently heard Derek leave, and return about the time Peter was finished.
"Everything all right?" Peter asked after his customer left.
Derek nodded. "Stiles seems to know his stuff," he admitted. "He shopped for bargains and asked me to check some of the produce for freshness. I don't know what he plans, but it'll be good."
"I think we'll find that our Stiles has a confidence issue," Peter said. "He's been taken advantage of by the Pack he was living with. If we check, I suspect we will find they are bitten and have only what limited information Stiles was able to find about being Pack."
Derek nodded thoughtfully. "That... that makes sense. While he was good about not talking about the supernatural in public, some of his comments fit that well."
"I have an appointment for Stiles with Esmerelda tomorrow afternoon," Peter said. "I'll take him and stay, at least in the beginning but for as long as Esmerelda will let me stay. Stiles will be more comfortable with someone he at least faintly knows. Although I did offer him Sanctuary with the Pack and there was an overt magical response to that."
"Peter!" Derek breathed.
"Which is why I didn't want him going anywhere on his own," Peter said. "He's still staying upstairs here tonight but I'll walk him back later."
"He was re-arranging your kitchen when I left," Derek grinned.
"He left me an entire list of things we don't have, so he's likely making room for that," Peter admitted. "It... it feels good."
Derek nodded. "I get that feeling, too."
When Peter had a longer break between customers, he went back to the apartment.
"It's only a few steps, but I'd appreciate if you would call when you're ready to call it a night," Peter said. "Just... feeling protective."
"I'm all set here," Stiles said, looking around the clean kitchen. "I made room for the incoming grocery order, so that should be easy to put away when it comes. I can go now and just read in my room, instead of here."
"You're welcome to hang out with us in the shop," Peter said. "Although I know Erica and Cora have customers coming in after midnight."
"You keep strange hours," Stiles replied. "For all the reading I did on tattoos, I didn't learn a lot about running a shop."
"Since we're 'wolves, we attract a lot of supernatural business," Peter replied. "Mundane customers are really only about half of the business. The other half are other 'wolves, magic users, and other supernatural beings."
"Like... vampires?" Stiles' eyes lit up.
"Vampires tend to be a lot more solitary than you would think," Peter replied with a grin. "But there are other shifters than just 'wolves," Peter said. "LA being a big city attracts a number of shifters of many types. It's easier to blend into a big city than a small town."
Stiles nodded. "That makes sense," he replied. "That's how the Pack I was living with was able to stay together. We're in different schools but share an apartment."
"Tell me about your Pack," Peter encouraged.
"The bottom line, and we figured some of it out after the fact, is that a rogue Alpha came through town and bit my best friend and a couple of others," Stiles said. "The Alpha attacked my dad, who is the Sheriff and, well, a bullet between the eyes tends to kill even werewolves."
"That, or through the heart," Peter nodded. "While 'weres can heal from a lot of things, heart-shots or head-shots are almost universally fatal."
"My friend Scott, who was still adjusting to even being a werewolf suddenly because the Alpha," Stiles sighed. "That is not going too well."
"How long between the bite and the change to Alpha?" Peter frowned.
"Eight days," Stiles replied.
Peter shook his head. "That's a recipe for disaster," he admitted. "How has your friend been managing?"
"Well, I discovered the supernatural message boards," Stiles admitted. "That's how I found you guys. But I got enough information to help Scott work on his control. Two days before he became Alpha, Theo showed up." Peter could hear the bitterness in Stiles' voice. "Theo was already a 'wolf and stepped in to help Scott and the others with their control. It was all well and good, at first. But since Theo was a 'wolf and I wasn't, I've been pushed to the fringes of the Pack. Only because Scott and I have been friends forever have I been 'allowed' to hang around."
"You're Little Red," Peter suddenly realized.
Stiles looked taken aback for a moment. "How..." He looked thoughtful. "You're UncleCreepy!"
Peter laughed. "I am," he admitted. "When Cora was little, she called me Uncle Petey and I, umm, bastardized that for the forum."
"Ha!" Stiles grinned. "You led me to you, you know. I asked about tattoos and you gave me a short list. I picked your shop at random."
"I remember that," Peter admitted. "I'm glad you landed here."
"I am, too," Stiles said. "Okay, breakfast is ready to go into the oven in the morning. And I'm about ready to call it a night."
Peter took Stiles back to the tattoo shop and Stiles made a special effort to say good-night to everyone. He went upstairs and Peter heard him close the door to the bedroom he had been given.
Breakfast the next day was another success.
"We're going to keep you," Erica said as she took a third helping of the breakfast casserole.
There was that interesting blush again, Peter realized.
The grocery order was delivered later in the morning and Peter worked with Stiles to put everything away.
Peter led Stiles to a nearby garage where his cars were housed, and he drove them to their meeting with Esmerelda.
"Who exactly is Esmerelda?" Stiles asked.
"She's a magic user," Peter replied. "If nothing else, she can assess your capabilities and recommend someone to help with your training."
"That's unhelpfully vague," Stiles said.
"There's a level of magic that works on belief," Peter shrugged. "I don't want to set any more expectations on your part until you've met her."
"Ah! See? That makes more sense," Stiles grinned.
Peter drove to the outskirts of LA, up into the mountains. A dirt road led to a cozy looking cottage. Peter pulled the car into a parking space.
A woman stepped out onto the porch. Esmerelda was a pseudonym for the strongest magic user in North America. It was handed down from one person to another over an unknown number of years. The woman looked to be in her late forties, was tall with a shock of blonde hair.
"Peter Hale?" she asked.
"I am," Peter replied. "This is my friend Stiles."
"Come in," she invited.
The cottage was clean but looked well lived-in. The front half of the building was an open-concept living space with the living room, eating area, and kitchen blending together.
She waved a hand. "Let's sit at the table," she said. "That will be easier." Peter took a step back to let Esmerelda work.
Esmerelda let Stiles sit before she sat next to him. "I understand you're new to your magic?" she asked.
Stiles nodded. "Only about... ten days?" he replied. "I got a tattoo from Peter and it seemed to unlock something."
"Interesting," she said. "May I see it?"
Stiles looked at Peter, who nodded that it would be all right. Stiles lifted the sleeve on his shirt and showed off the line drawing of the fox.
"Oh, that will not do," Esmerelda said with a frown. Before she could be stopped, she leaned in and placed her index finger on the tattoo.
As Peter watched, the fox moved slightly, shaking itself. It turned its head toward Esmerelda and then color flowed. The outline became a life-like image of a fox. She held her finger on Stiles' arm and the fox trotted up and down Stiles' arm.
Peter moved toward them.
"Wait for it," Esmerelda said softly.
As Peter watched, Stiles closed his eyes and started to breathe heavily.
Peter wasn't sure how much time passed, it was seconds that felt like hours, before something popped.
Stiles took a deep breath and sat back in the chair, panting slightly. Esmerelda took her hand away from Stiles' arm but watched him closely.
"What just happened?" Peter asked.
"It felt like someone pulled the stuffing out of my head," Stiles said, rubbing his forehead.
"That's actually a good description of it," Esmerelda said. "Someone had placed a strong inhibitor on Stiles, something that would dampen his magic. The tattoo loosened the binding and made it easier for me to remove it completely."
"What does that mean?" Peter asked.
"It means that Stiles and I are going to become good friends," Esmerelda said cheerfully. "I don't know anyone I would trust to teach Stiles about his magic."