#flynnifox

There was just something about this time of year, Stiles wasn’t really sure Erica was going to have enough Wonder Woman power to make his life not seem bland and unappealing under the plastic mistletoe they had hung up just above the cash register.

She spotted him after a while and smiled one of her bright smiles. Her long curls of blond hair stuck out from under her Santa hat. Yeah because if the songs weren't enough to create the goddamn Christmas atmosphere they also had to add visuals to really be festive. She didn't seem to mind.

Stiles would really like to throw up.

Jackson freaking Whittemore, his actual real life nemesis from high school now turned into the CEO of the number one rival company from Stiles' job, bumped into him on his way out of the coffee shop.

Karma was a bitch like that.

Jackson snorted, “Seriously, Stilinski. I don't care what you do with your miserable life but could you cheer up a little ? You're killing the elves with your Grinch vibes.”

“You're killing the elves with your face.“ Stiles retorted.

It was not his best come back but he was a little out of it these days. He fidgeted and bit his lip out of annoyance.

“Wouldn't be surprised if you made the naughty list this year.” Jackson gave him a deprecating shrug.

Stiles was one hair away from just punching the smirk off his stupidly symmetrical face. He couldn’t do that though, not in Erica’s coffee shop. She didn’t deserve that, and he wasn’t rich enough to pay for any broken furniture, so instead he just said, “Fuck off.”

Jackson rolled his eyes and started whistling along 'Jingle Bells' on his way out.

Could Stiles’ day get any worse ?

It was not that Stiles hated Christmas. He didn't. He sort of liked it, accepted it at least. He didn't have much of a choice in the matter. Christmas was everywhere.

He could have gone on into details about how Christmas could never be what it used to be when he was little but there was no real use. He missed his mom, sure, but he missed more than that during this time of year. He missed... something he never really had. He missed not feeling so lonely.

He had his dad. He had Scott. Only, it wasn’t the same. Scott was married now, (wow way to make Stiles feel like an old bachelor at twenty five) so there wasn’t any Bro-Christmas anymore. And going to Scott’s house for Christmas was worse than being alone. Seeing the happy couple, the happy baby, the happy everything. Stiles could already feel the anxiety building up in his gut.

He was a great Uncle Stiles, but he didn’t have it in him right now. Not when he wanted it to be him. He had been ready for that, had been wanting that for even longer than Scott had. Stiles had been ready to find the love of his life when he was sixteen when Scott was still going from girlfriend to girlfriend until he finally found the one. Stiles… Well, things didn’t seem to be moving along as easily.

He couldn’t even blame it on his career because he was not that career oriented. He was still just in some stupid entry-level job at his office.

He didn’t care.

What Stiles wanted was to the happy husband with the happy baby in the happy household. Having enough money to make do was enough for him, he didn’t wish to live in a castle or drive a Porsche like his nemesis Whittemore. He wanted to stroll through the decorated streets with the intent of buying presents for people he loved, he wanted to dress up as Santa and eat some cookies and milk at midnight, he wanted the disastrous burned ham and the scrubbing of the ruined dishes before joining the love of his life in bed on Christmas night. He wanted the whole thing.

It was hard to settle for less.

He finally got to the counter and ordered his coffee. Black. No sugar.

“As dark as your soul,” Erica grinned as she wrote his name on a to-go cup.

Stiles grimaced what he hoped looked like a smile, which earned him a small laugh from Erica. She looked like a real Christmas angel when she laughed. Maybe he had been right to come here to cheer himself up a little after all.

His fake smile turned into a real one when Boyd, Erica's boyfriend, came out through the kitchen door. Strong tall dude with a red apron around his waist and sporting a Christmas hat : the perfect figure of manliness.

“Looking good, dude,” Stiles nodded in his direction.

“I know,” Boyd answered as confident as ever. Erica winked. Stiles’ tiny frozen heart melted.

Erica quickly shooed him away. The line had to keep moving. He would have liked to stay just a little longer but it was part of the business side of things to keep things going.

Now all he had left was to go back to his tiny lonely apartment and wait for the next few days to be over.

Stiles went to stand a little way off to the side to wait for his drink. He looked to the side, silently sending a prayer for Boyd to take his time preparing the drinks. He watched the bright garlands, let his eyes wander and follow their paths arching over the doors and on the walls. The red ornaments had been hung there with sticky tape, it wasn’t delicate by any means but it did the job.

He couldn’t  keep the deep sigh from escaping him. His love-hate relationship with Christmas was still going strong.

His eyes then landed on a guy just a few feet away. Stiles hadn't noticed him before. Then again he hadn't noticed much of anything except Jackson being his usual douche-bag self.

Now Stiles was actually looking. The guy seemed to be waiting for his drink too, fidgeting a little as he put his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. He must have been in the line just in front of him. It really spoke volumes about his current state that Stiles hadn’t noticed a guy that hot. He usually noticed these things. Not that it usually amounted to anything because Stiles really wasn’t a one night stand kind of guy. Stiles was a romantic and most importantly what he craved was intimacy and comfort. He didn’t really care about dick.

Oh but that jawline was definitely cut by the angels. Falalalaa blessed be the lord.

Even with dick out of the question, Stiles’ eyes could only rejoice in the pleasing aesthetics this guy brought to the world.

“Derek ?” Boyd called out, putting a cup down on the counter, before quickly turning to prepare other drinks.

The guy, Stiles’ guy, stepped forward. Okay, Derek. Derek. Stiles almost tasted the name on his tongue. Yeah, he had to agree, Derek seemed to fit that hot guy perfectly.

He didn’t have the time to analyze anything more than that before Boyd came to put another cup on the counter and called, “Stiles !”

Stiles jumped a little at his name. That was fast. He quickly made his way back, ready to talk to Boyd for a couple of more minutes before it was actually absolutely mandatory for him to either leave or find a place to sit. He planned on leaving, he didn’t want to sit all alone in the busy coffee shop. He wasn’t a hipster trying to find a vibe, he just wanted a couple more minutes to hear Boyd tell him one of the stupid things Isaac, their employee, got up to or something. Anything.

Okay so Stiles was a little desperate. Just a little.

“Excuse me,” a voice said behind him.

Stiles turned around so fast, he almost heard his neck creak. Derek, the hottest guy Stiles had seen in a long time, was standing there, frowning down at his cup.

Why was he still standing there ? That was definitely not proper coffee shop etiquette. Someone should tell him because no matter how hot a guy was, he was supposed to be moving along when the drink was retrieved. That was how a coffee shop worked. Stiles was supposed to be the only one allowed to loiter, that was his friend privilege.

The guy frowned again, and it seemed directed at Stiles this time. He leaned in a little closer. Stiles swallowed audibly. Now was not the time to get flustered but it had been a while since anyone had come close into his personal space. What was this man doing all of a sudden?

“Excuse me,” Hot Guy Derek said again. “I think you have my drink.”

What ?

It was Stiles’ turn to frown now. (The frowning contest is on, mister!) He awkwardly scratched the back of his neck with his free hand, “What?”

Stiles barely had the time to take his cup but he definitely had time to notice Erica's cursive handwriting unmistakably spelling out his name in black sharpie. It was not every name that could be mistaken for ‘Stiles’. What was this dude on about ?

He threw a quick glance in Boyd’s direction only to find him gone. The bro code really wasn’t what it used to be.

“Stiles,” Hot Derek said.

Stiles' brain short-circuited a minute, only able to gape and stare at the wonderful scruff on that man's face. Stiles would very much enjoy hearing his name coming out of that mouth somewhere more private. Somewhere in between some sheets maybe, under a duvet, safe and warm on a Sunday morning.

“Stiles,” He said again.

Stiles shook his head and blinked a little to meet Derek's eyes. Oh wow. Those eyes. Yeah Stiles’ brain wasn’t back online yet. Later he would be able to express in a lot more words how beautiful these green eyes looked under the cozy coffee shop lighting.

Were the twinkles in there only the reflection of the Christmas lights?

The whole street was covered with the red and green lights. Their glow was flickering through the large wall of windows.

The town was floating in the Christmas spirit and if Stiles had to put a face on a feeling, he might want to choose this face right here.

Here was a reason to accept Christmas a little more.

Wait. Hot Derek's eyebrows twitched. They were clearly trying to tell him something. Stiles followed his line of sight down to the cup he was holding. Derek's cup... which also had a name written in that same handwriting in black sharpie, except that instead of Derek's name, it was Stiles' name written there.

It was all there from the capital S to the lower case s, as if it had been copy-pasted from his own cup, except that on this one the i of his name has been dotted with a heart instead.

“Huh ?” Stiles said intelligibly.

“You have my drink.”

“Huh.”

Derek probably thought Stiles was a moron. Maybe it was not too late to act like a foreign exchange student or a tourist. Excusez-moi no hablo English? No, even better, Stiles was almost ready to unearth his fake polish accent even if he hadn’t spoken a word of that language since the last time he went to visit his Babcia with his mom and dad when he was eight.

“You ordered a black coffee.” Derek said simply. To prove his point, he slowly uncapped his cup to show the wonderfully black liquid inside. Dark roast, Stiles’ favorite. “You want me to guess what’s in your cup or is that enough proof?”

“Listen dude!” Stiles started a little too loud.

Stupidly, Stiles was ready to start a fight. He was fed up with everything today : work, stupid Jackson, stupid Christmas, stupid coffee shop messing up orders for no reason. He didn’t need an attractive guy getting in his face now because of some coffee ordeal. He just wanted to go home and wallow in his misery. It was a thing people did ; going home just to be free to be miserable without having the world there to look at them. In this case, Stiles was people.

Stiles just really wanted to be left alone.... or to be hugged or something.

So yes, he had spoken a little too loud, making some heads turn to look at them. He didn’t really want to cause a scene. It was a reflex more than anything. It was such a reflex that he hadn’t come up with the rest of the sentence.

He cleared his throat to find some composure. “I’m sure this is just a mistake.”

Way to state what seemed obvious.

Though… Now that he thought about it, Stiles knew this wasn't a mistake. He quickly glared in Erica’s direction. She was way too careful with her business to make a mistake like that. Plus the little heart on the i was definitely giving her away. She never put hearts on his cup.

His eyes met Boyd’s for a second and the playful glint in his eyes was enough to confirm Stiles’ doubts. Fuckers. Both of them.

Stiles just hadn’t been miserable enough that they had to come and mess with him on this goddawful day.

“Oh god, I hate them. I’m so sorry.” Stiles let his head fall. “They think they’re hilarious. It’s just, yeah, they’re sort of my friends, though clearly they shouldn’t ever have earned that title. I should only have nice friends. I should only have all the nice things. I don’t deserve this? All of today. I don’t deserve that. And they know I don’t like Christmas time! They’re just… ugh.”

He hit his forehead with his fist, wishing so badly he could just transport himself some place else. Stiles hated everything right now. Erica and Boyd had had to go find the hottest guy in town and pull a prank? And they called themselves friends? What a travesty.

“Why would it be funny?” Derek’s eyes weren’t leaving Stiles a second.

It was almost uncomfortable. Hot guys rarely paid attention to him so Stiles lacked the proper defense mechanisms to help him cope with what was happening right now. Without thinking he brought what he believed to be his cup to his lips and gulped down a disgustingly sweet mouthful of what he guessed to be a white chocolate drink. The sugary feeling stuck all the way down his throat. It was so bad, he choked.

Heads turn in their direction again because Stiles was nothing but a discreet guy. God, could he please just disappear instead of making a fool out of himself?

Derek’s hand was on his arm, holding him upright, brushing down to his elbow almost like a caress. Stiles was definitely imagining the look of concern on the other man’s face. There was no way this was happening right now.

“Here!” Stiles all but shoved the burning hot cup of white chocolate in Derek’s chest. “That’s definitely yours.”

Derek let go of his arm, his fingers brushing against Stiles’ as he moved to catch the cup Stiles was handing to him.

Every touch felt like burning, Stiles was that touch-starved. Sure he shook hands with his colleagues at work but that was not the same. Shaking hands with people he barely tolerated definitely didn’t bring out any Jane Austen type of vibes in his heart. Here though, he could very well be named Elizabeth Bennett, he wouldn’t be the wiser.

Derek almost smiled, just a tiny smug curl on the corner of his lips. Stiles’ eyes widened as he realized that he basically had drunk in this stranger’s cup just before giving it back. That was definitely not proper coffee shop etiquette. Germs and all that.

Stiles was a disgusting twenty-something spreading his disgusting saliva all over the place, and by all over the place Stiles meant this thirty-something God of beauty.

There was just a tiny hint of grey, salt and pepper in the scruff. So incredibly endearing for some reason. He never really knew he had a type until today but he might just have had his revelation moment. Or maybe someone like Derek was just so beautiful that he would be anyone’s type. What are the chances that a guy like that would be gay or bi or pan or any of the sexualities that would give Stiles the slightest most tiniest chance? Zero, null, void of any chance that was what it was. Either that or he was married or a Jackson Whittemore type of douche bag.

Though he didn’t feel like a douche bag.

He felt sort of soft. He felt like someone who would accept to be the big spoon.

Stiles was about to reach for the cup again but was stopped short by Derek who pointedly stared at him straight in the eyes as he slowly brought the white chocolate to his mouth, took a sip and let out a small moan of satisfaction before licking his lips. Slowly, oh so slowly.

What the hell was going on here? Stiles frowned at him, mouth half open. It felt like the whole universe was out to get him. This shouldn’t be as sexy as it was.

Hot Derek looked up at him, smirking. He knew what he was doing. He knew.. He knew he was hella attractive, he knew how to use it. This was terrible. So so terrible. If germs had to be exchanged, why not a full on make-out in the back alley under the twinkling lights? Stiles could be down for that.

But all of this was just a joke, a prank. This wasn’t just a random guy meeting him a random way. This was a prank pulled by people he hadn’t seen outside of this coffee shop for years. He called them his friends but, really, maybe they were just acquaintances. He didn’t even know what Erica and Boyd got up to outside of the small walls of this coffee shop. For all he knew, Derek could be one of their friends, in on the joke, here to make Stiles miserable, really turn him into a Grinch for real.

“Can I get you a, uh, drink?” Derek asked. Stiles hadn’t expected that to be what came out of Derek’s mouth.

“I already have a drink,” Stiles narrowed his eyes and pointed at the hearted-Stiles cup.

“Right. Of course. There you go,” Derek handed him the cup.

Stiles took it, pulled it closer to his chest as, cradling it as if to bring comfort to the cup or to himself. He was not really sure. He didn’t seem to know much of anything right now. The only thing he knew was that Derek was not moving. He was not going away. He only stood there, looking at Stiles for some reason.

“Are you here with someone?” Derek asked now, taking another ostentatious sip of that Stiles-germ-filled drink.

What was Stiles supposed to say, did it look like he was here with someone? Would he be standing there with a hot stranger if he had anywhere else to be?

Yeah probably.

That guy was built like a Greek God, chiseled and beautiful. And he also smelled good, Stiles could tell. He didn’t know what brand of cologne it was or maybe it was just the pheromones in the air, but Stiles was swooning just a little bit. Not drooling, definitely not drooling.

The good question was why Stiles wasn’t leaving. He had his drink in hand, the deal was done. The cups had been exchanged. Stiles should go and save himself. He probably enjoyed being ridiculed. That was the masochistic low-self-esteem acting up again.

More importantly, why did the thought of leaving make him feel so weird inside? It felt like a little Christmas elf was in his chest using his heart as a punching bag.

Derek’s face did another of its twitches. Dude, this guy knew how to use his face to communicate like you wouldn’t believe. It was a little terrifying. Stiles got the message loud and clear that he had been silent a lot longer than politely acceptable.

That was a rare occurrence. Stiles was a talker. Everybody complained about it, he talked talked talked. Not always about the things that mattered though. That was one of his problems, wanting to keep face in all circumstances, not wanting to be a burden. That was why he never told Scott about feeling lonely. So he talked, he talked about Star Wars and he talked about the Mets or anything, talked about Lacrosse if he wanted to have the chance to have a two way conversation instead of just a monologue.

“No, I’m singl- alone ! I’m here alone.”

Stiles scrunched up his nose. That sounded bad. So. His anxiety was going to make him think about this for days and he might even wake up in the middle of the night four years from now thinking about how bad this had been. Smooth Stilinski, so smooth.

The soft cling of dishes being deposited on the counter pulled Stiles out of his never ending inner monologue. Derek turned around too,his eyes finally letting go of their hold on Stiles’ soul.

Saved by the bell as one would like to believe, except that when Stiles looked up he found Erica standing there behind the counter with some sort of wolffish grin on her face. It was more terrifying than being faced with an actual predator.

“On the house, boys. Enjoy!” She announced, her tone ringing like wind chimes.

Stiles glared. Her cheerfulness sounded just a little too forced under the circumstances.

He wanted to strangle her. She was only saved by the fact that there was a counter between them and about twenty people there to witness it. All he could do was glare, curse her with his mind, make it very obvious that he was not happy with her right now.

Still, Stiles was about to tell her off when Derek grinned and stepped forward to grab the two small plates of red velvet cheesecake with one hand.

Oh no, now Stiles was thinking about Derek’s hands.

“Thank you,” Derek said softly.

Derek seemed to accept what was happening without any trouble. What was up with that? Stiles still felt like he was living one hallucinatory scene in a movie or maybe one of these hidden camera gags. He was still ready to bolt, to dash out of there and leave them all to never return. This was a betrayal of the highest order. Reyes’ Coffee Shop was supposed to be a safe space. It was supposed to feel like home. Yes a home with stupid Jackson Whittemore as a guest sometimes but a home nonetheless.

“Your friends really are pushing this,” Derek huffed out, sounding amused. “If I had any criticism, I’d say she could have cut the cheesecake in the shape of a heart and given only one piece with two forks. This is really amateur work.”

Stiles couldn’t help but laugh. It came out a little hysterical, a little loud. Again. His nervousness always had the best of him. He was a mess, and now he was obviously blushing. The hot flush moved on his cheeks and ran down his neck. When Derek smiled, Stiles stopped breathing entirely. The smile didn’t feel mocking. Surprisingly.

“Dude, it’s not too late, you can still put that in the suggestion jar!” Stiles said, pointing to a piggy bank next to the cash register.

Derek frowned, “Isn’t that for tips?”

Stiles only shrugged. That would be a sweet revenge. Derek rolled his eyes.

“Let’s go sit.” Derek offered, before looking down and adding, “Unless you don’t want to?”

It came out as a question. Shy. Stiles could laugh again because this amazingly beautiful man in front of him was acting insecure as if Stiles had the upper hand here.

Derek’s ears were turning bright red. The color fit perfectly with the theme of the season. And again Stiles thought about Christmas. It would be such a shame if anyone was ever to reject such a heartwarming Christmas spirit.

Stiles’ heart skipped a beat or two at the sight of Derek who was now looking up at him.

“It’s my birthday today,” Derek confessed.

“It’s your what?” Stiles exclaimed.

“My birthday.”

“Yeah I heard you the first time, but, man, I don’t understand why you would tell me these things?” Stiles was almost getting angry now. “Because if it’s your birthday… it’s even more terrible! First it means you’re a Christmas baby which means you might hate Christmas even more than I do. Or love it wholeheartedly. I don’t know which is worse. But also if it’s your birthday and you’re here by yourself and my friends decided it would be fun to pull this stupid plan to get you to what? Meet me? Because oh my god, that’s some bad karma. I thought my karma was a bitch but dude , yours might be even worse! Imagine karma doing that to someone on their birthday… Jesus fucking Christ.”

When Stiles finally stopped his grand overly dramatic speech, he found Derek only looking at him, soft crinkles on the corners of his eyes.

“Is that it? Are you done?” Derek asked.

“Yes. You gotta admit I’m right though, but yes, I am done.”

“Are you always this stubborn?” Derek shook his head slowly. “The question is only rhetorical.”

Stiles snorted. He crossed his arms in a way he hoped to be manly. It failed as he had to be mindful of his coffee cup (the one Derek had uncapped but hadn’t bothered putting the lid back on earlier because apparently Hot Derek didn’t care about hot liquid hazard).

“Let’s make this easier on both of us.” Derek huffed out. “You’re single. I am too. It’s Christmas Eve, it’s my birthday, and I spent all day working. You’re cute,” he stopped a second to smile at Stiles’ shocked face. “You’re also ridiculous, but in a good way. Your friends are meddlers-”

“The worst kind of meddling meddlers.” Stiles had to agree.

“Who clearly care about you enough to pull something like this. That has to mean you are at least a decent enough person.”

“I’m a great person!” Stiles felt the need to correct. Look at him finding some sense of self worth when needed!

“Well, I’d like to be the judge of that.” Derek smiled. “If you’d let me.”

“What?” Stiles’ brain might be short circuiting again.

“Say yes, Stiles!” Boys shouted from where he was standing in the kitchen doorway.

“Fucking Hell Stiles!” Erica added.

Derek was full on grinning now. The dude thought all of this was wonderful. This whole mess of life Stiles had, it didn’t seem to scare him or push him away.

“Let’s go sit and enjoy some cheesecake.” Derek didn’t wait for Stiles to agree and just led the way to an empty table close to the window.

The lights twinkle again, illuminating the small wooden table as Derek unceremoniously dropped the small plates of cheesecake on the tabletop.

Stiles reached for him before Derek sat down.

“You say that like it’s easy but you say 'cheesecake' and I hear a lot more than that.” Stiles admitted.

He was a little breathless. That mean elf in his chest had taken to squeezing his lungs now, stomping on his heart too.

“If the cheesecake is good, that might mean a date or two.” Derek was acting casual about this.

“Again. You’re doing it again . Because when you say-“

Derek cut him short, leaning in to kiss him, swallowing down soundless words.

“I think you heard me just right.” Derek smiled again. “Tomorrow is Christmas and I’m driving back to my hometown to be with my family. I’m going to assume you’re not up for that yet. My sisters, huh, they’re a lot to handle. But tonight… Tonight, I’m all yours.”

Stiles let out a small surprised breath. His heart was growing so big all at once, all the air was being pushed out. Derek knew what he was doing. Derek fucking knew. There was so much implication in what he was saying and yeah sure Stiles definitely didn’t feel up for an official meeting with the family tomorrow (what the hell?) but who knew? Maybe next year?

“Wait, I just need to-“ Derek said before leaning in once more, raising Stiles’ chin an inch to angle him just right to capture his lips again.

This time Stiles felt more prepared, he didn’t just take it, he kissed back. They were keeping it chaste, it was a first kiss. They were still in the middle of the coffee shop. But Stiles couldn’t help it, he had to taste more. He ran his tongue softly on the underside of Derek’s upper lip. Stiles needed just a little more time and a little less audience to dare slip his tongue inside and -

“Yeah,” Derek breathed out, pulling away. He nodded, seemingly satisfied by the result of what he had 'needed to'.

“You don’t know what you’re signing up for. I’m no piece of cake.” Stiles needed to warn him.

“Can’t wait to find out.” Derek said before turning serious. “If this is the fine prints of some imaginary contract we’re signing, I probably have to disclose that I'm not perfect either.”

“I’m loving your business talk so much.” Stiles snorted.

“You say business but I hear a lot more than that.” Derek’s tone was serious but his face absolutely gave away how proud of himself he was.

“Shut up,” Stiles couldn’t help but smile. His grin was so wide it actually hurt his cheeks.

“Do you actually want to eat that cheesecake or should we get out of here?” Derek asked, his wonderfully endearing blush back in full force.

‘All I Want For Christmas’ was coming back on the radio and Stiles could actually laugh now. He still couldn't believe any of it was really happening.

“Race you to the door!” He grinned before starting off like a lunatic.

He could hear Derek follow him quickly but bumping into someone and apologizing before reaching Stiles again, his hand finding Stiles’ lower back as they tried to both squeeze in the entryway.

“Get it Stiles!” Stiles heard Erica shout out as they were about to open the coffee shop front door to head out. “Get it.”

“Bowchickabowwow!” Boyd sing-songed, slapping Erica’s ass with a dish towel.

Oh for fuck’s sake.

Stiles sent them the middle finger. They were going to hear him next time he comes in. He was not going to let them live it down. They probably won’t either, especially if their stupid prank actually worked. Stiles was probably not going to survive this.

Erica laughed. She knew she'd won.

“It’s not Valentine’s so I can’t be cupid but who says I’m not up for saving Christmas?! Thank me later!” She called after him.

Stiles wanted to retort, but Derek’s hand just found his, their fingers intertwined.

Which is exactly the problem: The spark that constitutes the magical expression of Stiles is actually very interested in mischief. Supremely interested in making some things very much tougher for Stiles, and he tries to remind himself it's also done a lot of good for him over the years. A nudge here to take this turn, and a thought of just stopping and waiting somewhere on the sidewalk for a minute can both lead to finding old friends and good times, or missing a falling chunk of the facade from some ancient brick building. He can't often tell ahead of time despite pleading with himself to make it work.

He's decided that Beacon Hills has to be a good place, with good WiFi and good coffee and all that stuff. Nature is also calling more insistently against his bladder and he really hopes there's someplace open this early with internet service and decent restrooms.

"If I find that nobody in this town is awake at this terrible hour, and that they haven't got decent WiFi, I'm going to write them a very bad review and hex their coffeemaker. There are standards for how these things should work and that last place was a disaster!"

Of the four diners in the last town, some eight hours ago down the highway that specifically avoids the big urban centers, he found no curly fries on any of the menus. They seemed completely unimpressed with the idea of tater tots and he considered hexing them in some way or other but ended up just snagging food from the hot case at a convenience store and busting a move out of town.

When the first exit for Beacon Hills comes up he passes without exiting. It seemed too wild, like it was a regional wildspace, or something. Maybe this was more of an industrial exit for logging and whatever else they do here. The next exit surely showed promise.

Quietly in the back of his mind, a tiny version of Leslie Nielsen's voice replied, "And don't call me Shirley."

Erica had been ready for several minutes. Derek's routine for how to open the store properly had been whittled down to just 12 minutes for the cleaning prep, six minutes to get all the food out and presentable, and another full minute just to go around and make sure everything was in order. Derek usually closed the shop up, but today claimed he was feeling restless and arrived before she had and was already bustling around.

"Derek, you pay me to worry about these things. Why are you even here?" She watched as Derek redid everything she had completed already so he could be sure it met his extremely specific standards that are in no way related to what actually makes customers happy. Well, he's the boss, so he can ask for what he wants, but she's going to do it the way she knows is best when he's back on his regular routine.

She hollers at him from the cafe's dining area while Derek is in the back organizing and cleaning things in the kitchen he'd definitely organized and cleaned the night before. "You should go run out in the preserve or something. You have too much energy to be in a confined space before 6 AM on this day or any day." Her supernaturally-enhanced hearing helped her catch every syllable in reply.

"I'm here because it's my place and I don't really need a reason to be here, now, do I? I can come whenever I like."

Erica smirked.

"Shut your pie-hole, Reyes, or I'm switching you to the lunch shift and giving your boyfriend the morning."

"He'll hate you for that."

"I'm the alpha. I can take it."

At Erica's snicker, Derek growls to himself. As the alpha, his hearing is even more enhanced, but he can also feel her perpetual sniggering through the pack bond. He tells himself he should be used to it by now but he just can't. Wolves aren't monsters, they need to behave in a respectable way.

"Are you lecturing me mentally on how wolves should behave respectably in polite society? I mean, I know these customers and though some of them are gems, some are definitely not polite and don't belong out in society."

"Erica," Derek says as he enters the room. "Keep it down. You don't want anyone to overhear you talking trash about others."

"It's three minutes to six and I'm going to open up."

"It's too early. We open at six. Don't mess with people's expectations."

"Anyone here this early is here because they have no expectations, just a demand for coffee, bossman. You really don't have anything to worry about."

Erica walks to the windows and turns the lights on in the displays. She admires the way the colorful borders around the windows twinkle in the early air. They cast bright splashes of light into the intersection, visible from any direction of the street. Derek does fine display work and has made a version of the town in a huge diorama lit with tiny LEDs in the windows of the shops and homes, and decorated with the tiniest versions of people Derek knows. Customers, family, random people who caught Derek's eye are all represented in some way in the display.

She thinks it's the softest, brightest, most wonderful thing Derek does and he pretends to everyone like it's no big deal. He's the most ridiculous rough-edged marshmallow-soft man she's ever met. When she told Boyd about it, he agreed with a knowing nod of his head before he returned to mixing beverages for the fine residents and visitors who came through the door.

The subtle change in the air alerted her to potential danger, and she spun around to catch Derek standing at the door, looking confused and surprised at the man standing there.

"Uhh, if you're not open, that's fine, but I really need to use a restroom. Can I come in anyway to take care of the call of nature? She's been really, really going hard these last few miles."

Erica's snort escapes unintended. The man at the door snaps to look at her and grins, holding a thumbs-up. He gives her a sort of look that says, "Is this guy broken?" and Erica replies with a look that yes, totally broken, and harmless.

"Hey, welcome to Beacon Hills! We're opening right now and the bathroom is right down there. Go for it."

The man exhales and seems to weaken for a moment before taking off at a fast walk between the chairs and to where Erica had pointed. "Close your mouth and the door, Derek. I hear the landlord hates when people waste energy heating the outside."

The door closes with a click at the same moment Derek's jaw slams shut. She watches him transform from bare surprise to guarded watcher in an instant. "Watch out. I didn't hear him at the door when I want to go put the mat out."

"You still have that in your hands, Derek." She looks at him as he seems to realize the truth. Derek opens the door and half throws it out, trusting it to land however it lands as Derek seems to listen to the back area.

"Are you listening to him pee?"

"No, I'm—" He flashes his eyes at her. There's a visceral reaction for any beta to the flashing of one's alpha's eyes, but Derek does it so often they've all become somewhat immune to the power of it all. Derek's mother warns him about overusing his strength when a simple word will do, and while Erica see's he's gotten better with her coaching of him, he's still got a long way to go before Talia's advice actually makes a solid difference for him. "I can't hear anything. Nothing at all."

"He's probably just shielded, Derek. There are a lot of good reasons for that, especially when traveling alone."

Derek is a good-hearted alpha, and he's young, but Beacon Hills has been stable for long enough that his parents leaving him in charge isn't a disaster. Talia and her husband are consulting for another pack in Idaho and Derek's putting his training to use at home. The pack in Idaho had lost their alpha and Emissary in an attack of some kind, and they some serious help getting back on track. The mission, as it were, will be for a couple of years, but they're not far away and so the territory isn't really at risk even if Derek has some trouble to deal with.

"I don't think he's a threat, Derek. He seems kind of fun.." Which Derek would have considered if he wasn't being totally weird about this guy.

"Anyone who can sneak up on us is a potential threat, Erica. I shouldn't have to remind you of that." Indeed, Erica flashed right back to the moment she and Boyd finally returned to the territory after having been abducted by a nutty grandpa hunter and his daughter.

"Yeah, but like you also said, we can't just go in being suspicious of everyone. What if he's one of the good ones? You're the guy in charge, so people need to know they can come to you. He's probably not even aware this is our territory."

"We can't know that."

"I can just ask him, dude." Derek looks at her with an expression of disgust. She's solid in her sense of this new guy and his not-at-all-threatening intentions. Whoever he may be, or whatever he may be, he's good people. And he's not a werewolf, so there's no direct threat there. Derek's had his heart broken and his trust trampled on extremely effectively, so he's far less willing to consider his instincts and defaults to threat mode whenever something both supernatural and unexpected comes around. She regards him for a moment.

"I think we'll be okay. I'll find out about him and you hang in the back and listen, okay?" She considers for a moment. "What do you think he likes to drink?"

"I have no idea," he mutters and heads to the back room. Derek's taking things down to DEFCON 3 from DEFCON 2, which seems like a mark in her favor. She's not his first beta, but she does seem to be able to get him to think about other stuff sometimes when other people can't. When anyone happens to notice she says it's her brilliant curls, but the blonde really does seem to get his concern in a way the rest of the pack don't. Except for Boyd, and he's too busy being silent to really help Derek so directly. She lets a smile fill her face and nods to herself. Derek is trusting them more. He's been training them hard, and it's working, and she sets herself to figuring out who the new guy is and what new guy is up to.

She forgets for a moment how weird he was when he opened the door.

Stiles throws his bag onto the bench in one of the high-backed booths with a good line of sight to both the counter and the entryway and heads to the counter.

"What can I get you?" Erica says in her warmest 6-am customer service voice.

"Well, I think I want a coffee, but I also need to sleep soon, so that's probably a bad idea. I mean, caffeine can put me to sleep if I have a little, but it's been a while since I've taken my medicine and my ADD is probably going to fight me for sleep if I don't indulge in some delicious beverage action."

Erica laughs. Stiles beams. "I'm here with the jokes, folks."

"Oh, yeah, I can tell that about you."

Too quietly for normal hearing she hears, "Ask him who he is!" in an urgent tone from the back. Erica rolls her eyes briefly, making sure the visitor doesn't see it. She growls subvocally.

"Welcome! Sorry you had such a weird first experience with my boss at the door. He's not normally a weirdo."

"Eh, I'm not worried. I'm plenty weird. But he is okay? I mean, he seemed kind of... surprised?" Somehow, in some manner she didn't interpret, she heard the meaning behind it. The boss seemed both surprised and actually afraid of something, and the new guy had picked up on it.

Erica beams. "Yeah, we get that all the time. Boss is a total weirdo." Derek growls in the back and sets something hard against the table.

Stiles glances in the back then makes eye contact with Erica. "Is he alright?" he mouths at her.

She shrugs her shoulders. She isn't about to explain the weirdness on display right now. Derek's never been like this before.

"I am not sure he slept at all last night. He normally works the closing shift. I'm here to open, but when he needs pre-dawn fun, I'm apparently the one he needs to hang around."

"Oh, really?" Stiles raises an eyebrow.

"Oh, no, not like that. I'm taken. Boyd's a really good guy and he's not into sharing."

Stiles had glanced again to the back room but that comment brings his full attention right back to her. "Oh, I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to flirt! I am just like this all the time."

Erica leans back. "Hear that, Derek? He's like this all the time." She adopts a theatrical pose for a moment. "Oh, gosh, I'm sorry, I've completely forgotten to introduce myself. I'm Erica, and that's Derek."

Stiles doesn't miss a beat. "I'm Stiles, and you're one of the betas, then? Is he the only alpha around? It seems a little..." Stiles seems to taste the air, sort of. Erica isn't sure how to describe the way he takes an open-mouthed whiff and kind of lets his eyes go blurry. "Oh, I see. Got it."

"What do you think you get, Stiles?" Erica says with a dash of suspicion. She'd heard Derek freeze in the kitchen, his heart racing now. She tries to be a cooler customer than her alpha and hopes that Stiles isn't offended. She's not really sure what a spark is, or what they do, but Derek's got an idea and it's shocked the hell out of him for whatever reason.

"Eeek, yeah, sorry! Sorry. I find I do this all the time, and usually on accident, if I haven't prepared ahead of time. I'm a Spark, and I'm really just here to find a quiet place to rest and drink something hot and warm. I'd like to write for a bit in the booth," he says, gesturing with a huge swing of his arm to the booth.

Erica nods at him. "I am pretty sure we can accommodate that request and we won't even have to do some paperwork for it," she makes a show of stage whispering, "Since my alpha is hiding in the back instead of greeting important guests like he's supposed to do."

This time the growl is clear to everyone. Erica smiles wickedly. "Alpha Hale, I believe you have some alpha-level responsibilities here with regard to our guest. Don't you think you should get out here and be polite?" She winks at Stiles, who returns the wink with a laugh he tries to stifle behind his fist.

Derek comes out and now Stiles looks at him without saying anything. He seems to close-off a bit, looking at the alpha in his black shirt and forest-green apron with the cafe's logo on it.

Erica notices the two of them and then grabs her phone from the counter and stepping out of the way.

"Stiles, you're welcome to be here. We have no restrictions against visitors," and by this Stiles heard between the words that the alpha meant. "of the supernatural variety." Stiles hadn't met an alpha so formal as this before. He mentally knocked his hand against his temple to try to recall proper protocols. He was not successful.

"Hello, Hale. I mean, alpha. Gah. This isn't going well. I don't do many formal introductions and I'm sorry to mess it all up. I hope you're not offended."

"No offense taken." Derek looks at the counter and then at Stiles. "Do you know what you'd like to have to drink this morning?"

"I hadn't decided that, though I imagine you already heard." Erica and Derek watch him as he catches himself glancing back. "And crap! I left my shields up without regard to any possible werewolf packs in the area. I'm sorry!" he said emphatically. "I would have taken them down in the parking lot if I'd have been thinking. It's been a long trip, and again, I—" he waves in the direction of the restrooms in the back and at that moment Erica and Derek both got a whiff of the spark without his protections. It took a moment to realize he was still talking.

"...distracted, on top of that, I've got ADD. You know how it goes? Wow, this probably explains why Alpha Hale had some trouble deciding what to do with me when I was at the door." Erica couldn't tell if Stiles noticed Derek was taking deep breaths, seemingly to scent him over and over again, which our staunch Alpha Hale never, ever does.

It was the, "You can call me Derek," said in a very warm and cozy tone that persuaded Erica to get the pack here. Whatever was going on needed witnesses, and she wanted to be sure someone else could verify this totally bizarre behavior by their alpha. Stiles didn't lie about being a spark, though if he were doing sexy mojo on the boss she doesn't know if she could tell. The scent of magic in the air happened only after he released the shield, and even hen he's been fading into the background. She snaps a picture of them with her phone and sent a broadcast message to the pack. Derek's phone vibrated, and he subconsciously pulled it out and put it on silent, no vibration, as he continued talking with Stiles.

Something is odd here, and Derek's doing things with his eyebrows that are perfectly adorable. Erica wants to find out what's going on, and she wants witnesses. While Derek and Stiles worked out the beverage order for a specialty hot chocolate, Stiles had also talked himself into a muffin and some veggie snacks. She's been providing summary notes to the pack and comes to a conclusion about this situation that she debates momentarily, then shares with the pack.

She's certain that Derek is deeply smitten by this newcomer.

By 6:45 the pack had all arrived, even those who had other jobs they were supposed to be getting ready for. Derek seems to have blithely missed the fact that the pack had arrived at the cafe and had been huddling together at one of the larger tables getting the play-by-play from Erica about whatever each had missed before they arrived.

Stiles had developed his senses such that he noticed Erica noticing them, and noticed that there were more wolves coming. Their energy wasn't hostile, but it was actively engaged. As he talked with Derek, he couldn't help but wonder why the alpha didn't seem to notice the rest of them. During a break in their chat about a particularly delightful staff he'd made friends with at a diner in Nevada, Stiles nodded to where the pack was sitting and waited for Derek to follow his gaze.

"Why is your pack here, Derek?"

"I don't know." He seemed surprised at not noticing. Derek looked at them and noticed that yes, everyone had arrived. He gave a glance at Scott who was loosely affiliated, being an alpha in his own right but mostly disinterested in claiming territory and building his pack.

"Don't you have work, Scott?"

"I'm sure Deaton won't mind that I came for the show at the cafe." Stiles laughed, and Derek looked at him, confused. "What show?"

Stiles isn't sure how to break this to him, so he tries to ease the wolf into the idea in a roundabout sort of way.

"Derek, what time is it?"

Derek glances at the clock above the exit. "It's almost seven. Why?"

"When did I arrive?"

"Just before we opened, I think." He scrunches his eyebrows. Stiles smiles, having already started learning the way the wolf's expressive eyebrows communicate thoughts he doesn't speak with his words. "Yeah, I opened the door and you were there."

"So you've been here talking with me for an hour and haven't noticed?"

Derek looks at Stiles, and the pack, and then moves to leave. Stiles gently sets his hand over Dereks' own hand, interrupting his sudden (and fearful?) escape.

He opens his backpack and pulls out a notebook. He then slides out of the booth and heads to the pack table, and pulls up chairs for him and Derek to join them. He sets the book down.

Wrapped around the book is a worn leather cover. It's got a few scratches and stains, and it is soft to the touch. Stiles loves this book, and as he holds it up for the pack and explains the leatherwork. Derek looks at the cover, surprised. Erica brings over a plate of cookies from the display and they show the same triple-spiral pattern, a triskelion, curled into itself in a familiar form.

Erica seats herself in the lap of one of the pack members. "Good morning, Boyd" Boyd nods to Stiles, unfazed by the recognition. Derek looks surprised that Stiles knows Boyd's name, and even more so that his packmate seems unbothered by the way Stiles already knows his name. Stiles says hello to each of the pack members. He gets to Scott and instead of "hello," Scott asks, "Why does your book have Derek's tattoo on it?"

Derek finds himself flushing and he's not half-sure why. The triskelion is a common symbol in supernatural circles. They've got it on their cookies, as the plate suggests. He grabs one of them and takes a bite. Stiles laughed at Scott and confesses that he sometimes blurts questions out, too. When Scott beams back at him, Derek sees how the two of them will become fast friends.

Then he tilts his head to the side. The pack takes notice, and then so does Stiles, who has turned to him with a sly smile.

"I hope you will allow me to share something with you all that I haven't shared with anyone, not even my dad." They nod, and then Stiles looks at Derek and raises an eyebrow.

"Go ahead, I guess. Not sure what you need our permission for."

Stiles grins at Erica, who knows something special is about to happen that will make all everyone's grumbling about being up early disappear in an instant.

"At three years old the little wolf, with his bare little feet and scruffy face and pointed ears, was poking around at the wild things in the area near his home. He couldn't control his shift yet, so sometimes he was half wolfy and half boy, and he barely noticed."

Stiles tilted the book at Derek who took a look at the image and said nothing, but his heart skipped a beat and his eyes opened wide.

"And the little wolf saw a lizard. The lizard told him that they could be friends, but that they needed to learn how, because one day, the little wolf might have to remind the lizard who his friends were."

Stiles didn't glance at Jackson, but a couple of the others did. Danny set his hand on Jackson's shoulder and squeezed gently.

"The little wolf did not understand the lizard. He asked the lizard how he would know him in the future. The lizard said they were family, but they didn't know that yet."

Scott's excitement overruled his better judgment again. "Jackson was a kanima and we found out that he was Derek's cousin!"

Stiles glanced at Derek and nodded. Derek avoided looking directly at anyone, but remained attentive in his listening. When Stiles continued, he looked at Jackson and smiled slightly. They had a rough go of things at first, but they've come a long way. Jackson really has worked on letting his fears go, the ones that fed the kanima and he's becoming a better man. Derek likes to think the experience has humbled him, too. After all, it isn't every day you discover that a dangerous were-creature was basically possessed by the darker side of his own fears and ended up doing some pretty awful things until they got it all worked out.

Jackson is reliable now, and Derek is one of the people he sends texts to when he is looking for advice. Derek considers it good progress that Jackson doesn't just ask about pack advice anymore, and instead about real-life stuff, like running a business and all that stuff.

Stiles has moved to a new story and Derek catches his name again. He inhales once more, and Stiles stops to scoot a little closer.

"Oh, sorry, this one is out of order. I'm not sure Derek will remember it." Derek sets his hand on Stiles' knee almost as an afterthought. It is as if being with Stiles is a thing that has already happened, and they've been together for decades. They haven't, but it's so easy to believe it, to trust Stiles, and to trust Stiles with his pack.

"When the little wolf had his first birthday, his asshole uncle creepy pants..." ("That's exactly who he is" slips Lydia under her breath, echoed by "yeahs" around the table.) "...gave little wolf a box. Little wolf was a boy at this time, almost never being wolfy at all. The box in front of him had a very interesting handle. Uncle creepypants showed little wolf boy that he could spin the handle around and around and listen to the music the box played. Little wolf boy was so excited! He squealed with delight and turned the handle in his tiny fist and laughed himself silly."

"But when the box clicked and the lid opened to reveal an ugly clown on a spring, the surprise of the moment caused little wolf boy to change, with little sharp teeth and little sharp claws and he knocked the little box over with his mightiest growl." Derek chuckled at this. The image was adorable even if he still has a thing about clowns."

("Derek's got a thing about clowns." Scott chimes in. "Perhaps we should not keep interrupting Stiles, Scott?" Lydia said with a glare. Scott was suitably threatened into silence and put his hand over his mouth as a reminder.)

"After little wolf hit the toy he ran to his father. The man was tall, friendly, and even for a human he was strong. This man was not a wolf like the little wolf was, but he seemed just as strong as everyone else to the little wolf and Derek felt himself scooped into his father's arms and held close as he cried about the toy. His father soothed him, promising to damage his uncle's personal things in retribution for such a prank. Little wolf was happy, and though he dreamed of bad clowns for a week, he also dreamed that he and his dad would fight them together."

The pack seemed to adore the stories, and Stiles kept reading. Derek would have preferred if the pack never heard some of these stories because many of them revealed parts of his life he'd forgotten about, or didn't want to talk about. Stiles was a good storyteller, though, and he found that as he wrapped his arm around the other man's shoulders, and felt the lean muscular strength there, and smelled the way the chocolate and spice and scent of orange blossoms filled his nostrils, and how there was almost a flavor to the frisson of electricity in the aura of the spark. He felt cozy, and watched as the pack listened raptly to this master storyteller at work.

"This one is set in the future. Not even today, but in the near future." The pack looked at each other. Stiles looked at Derek, sat-up so Derek couldn't read ahead, or see the drawings in the margins. He wanted them all to experience this together. After all, the future isn't set, but this particular event isn't one of great triumph or struggle, so it shouldn't impact much of anything one way or another.

"It's the kind of Christmas morning where the windows are foggy and the lights on the houses nearby are blobs of color on the glass. The snow is on the ground thick enough to muffle noise, but not so bad you can't walk through it. In the great house in the preserve the pack meets. The little wolf is now a big wolf, but not a bad wolf. He's got his own pack now, and they welcome family and friends from far away every Christmastime."

"In the kitchen big wolf makes hot chocolate using a secret recipe he's developed at his cafe and which delights everyone. He prepares a cup for his electric friend, and for his friend who knows the ghosts, and for his cousin and his betas, for his sisters and their partners. He brews a magical potion of love and chocolate for everyone and makes it only at this time of year, as a treat to himself for his birthday, and as a cherished present to those he loves." Stiles grabs a cookie and munches it and glances at his notes.

"Oh, dang. Sorry, everyone, but I need to skip the rest of this."

"What, is it PG-13? We can handle a little of that. You two are already cuddling up."

"No, it's not that. The future is not set, and these stories might be pretty close to reality, but they're not facts. I don't know if the newcomers — No, sorry, I just don't know what I should say, so I'm going to skip it. And don't go trying to get into it later, Erica, you literally cannot read it, on top of getting a nasty burn if you try to open the book without my permission." She grunts back at him something about Batman with all his tricks and traps. "We'll get to it when we come to it. Together."

Derek nudges him with his shoulder. "Oh? Have you already decided you're staying?"

"Well, yeah, duh. When people meet their soulmates they really shouldn't just keep going."

"What? You did?"

Erica takes a cookie and throws it at Derek. "You're an idiot!" Derek looks at her confused, and annoyed. Boyd gives him a look that says to Derek that he is, in no uncertain terms, "being so stupid right now I can barely stand how stupid you're being. Would you please figure this out right now so we don't have to hold your hand through this life-changing event? What the hell, dude?"

Derek looks at Stiles, looks at the pack, and Jackson says, "Yo, dude, just check your threads."

It's Jackson's way of referring to the bond the pack has, and how they're bonded together with something that mentally looks like an energy string tying them together, supernaturals and humans alike. It's also the thing that Jackson knows will have Derek realize the truth of the situation. Derek tends to have to feel things out for himself. He doesn't think his way so much as do and feel and goes with that. The pack bond is one of the alpha's most powerful tools for relating to the people he's responsible for, and Jackson knows it's the kind of thing that will quickly get Derek out of his stupid place.

So Derek does at Jackson suggests. The pack are held with bright yellow bonds, the links between betas and between betas to their alpha. There are links to his family in colors that are tinted mostly with greens. Even Danny and Scott, both of whom are loosely associated with the pack, still have bonds to the alpha which show as gold from Danny and red from the other alpha. But there's a new line now, one directly to Stiles, and from Stiles come lines to the rest of the pack. There's a sort of hum to the group, a frequency that sounds like a cat's purr, or the perfectly tuned note on a piano, or the breeze through the forest in spring.

And the smells are incredible. He can now tell each member by scent just by thinking about them. Stiles being part of the group enhances his abilities considerably. He has the scent of desert clay and expensive wine from Jackson. There's the mixed whiffs of poppy and rain from Erica and Boyd. There is a tickling scent of dust from Lydia that underrides the floral of begonias and sparking wine. Allison smells of metal and snickerdoodles, and Scott of cane sugar and browned butter.

"Why can I feel your dad, Stiles?"

"Oh, well, we're a package deal. I bet you that within two years he'll move here, become Sheriff, and everyone will know him. He's just that kind of guy."

"How do you know this?"

Stiles opens the back cover of the notebook and holds it up to Derek so that only he can see. He folds it quickly before the pack can lean over enough to catch a glimpse. "Does that answer it?"

"Yes and no. I mean..." Derek glances at the window. Erica watches, and Lydia gasps minutely before catching herself. She barks an order.

"Boys, why don't you go get those figures and bring them to the table?" Jackson and Scott rise without a thought, only belatedly realizing they came to attention at her order. She's got no direct power over them, but yet, she somehow really does. She's just that intimidating. When she and Jackson broke-off their relationship, they took some time to heal from it, and now it's genuinely a good, close friendship between them. But he still does her bidding without necessarily meaning to, at times, to his minor annoyance. Danny just laughs at the situation, having been Jackson's best friend for ages and aware that Jackson really just kind of likes to be told what to do sometimes.

Stiles sits upright as the figures are laid before them. Derek is red-faced again, up through the tips of his ears. It's easily one of his most endearing qualities that are entirely outside of his control. Stiles loves that about the man, that his embarrassment and pride show through even when he doesn't mean to. and he's adorable when he's struggling with it.

"Wait." Stiles holds one, and then taps the rest, seeming to sense something about each. "You made these figures? The whole pack?" Derek nods. "These are great! Look, you even gave Jackson a little lizard tail. So cute!" (Scott had brought the Jackson doll over and hadn't realized that feature had been added. "Asshole" is all he says before sitting back in his chair and watching his cousin squirm under Stile's scrutiny.

"They're wonderful, and I think you did a great job. You could sell work like this for some pretty big bucks online, Derek. But why are we looking at them?"

Derek rises from his chair and goes to the window display. There's a house there between some tall trees. He reaches to the back, opens the door, and looks at whatever it is outside of Stile's line of sight.

"Come on, big guy. You don't need to hide your toys. Bring it over!" Stiles says playfully, and the pack giggles. Derek's ears flush brighter red and he steps over to Stiles and holds up to him a tall, thin figure with wild hair, a backpack just like the one he's got (down to the star and moon diagram in the middle), and sets it in front of Stiles next to the figure that looks like Derek.

"When did you make this?"

"I've had dreams about you for a long time. I could never see your face, but I knew the hair, and the bag, and the flannel shirts and tight jeans. I knew you were coming, but it wasn't until a few minutes ago that I realized this was you."

Erica holds her hands out. Several pack members put fives and tens into it. "I told you they were soulmates, but you all didn't believe me. All Stiles had to say was that he needed to pee and Derek just couldn't control himself."

Stiles and Derek could not help but laugh at that. Lydia and Boyd both gave half-disgusted, half-amused looks at her. Danny and Jackson were just laughing their asses off and Jackson silently filed that quote away for use later.

On Christmas day, not a week after they'd all met Stiles for the first time, the alpha and his soulmate had organized the pack to put up decorations inside and outside the Hale family home, they'd been cooking food, with Stiles giving Derek a flavor suggestion that perfected the recipe Derek's been working on, and they gathered everyone together for a huge pack picture. Stiles' dad and Derek's parents were able to get to town in time to welcome the happy couple to their first major holiday together and celebrate the blending of their families and pack.