Stiles: Private Investigator EAD

Title: Stiles: Private Investigator
Author: Sibyl_Moon
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Characters/Pairings: Stiles/Peter
Genre:  AU, Humor, Mystery, Light Angst
Word Count: 6.5k
Notes: AU, characters aged up

Stiles left Brewski’s Coffee sipping his tea, his mind already on what he had to do for the day.

“Hey,” With a skip to the side he barely missed wearing the drink, as a man in a grey suit hurried up the sidewalk. “Careful.”

“Apologies,” The man stopped and looked at Stiles in his dark skinny jeans, t-shirt, and converse shoes. “I’m Peter.” He held out a hand.

“Stiles,” Bemused he shook Peter’s hand.

“Hmm,” Peter held his hand caressing the back of it with his thumb. “I have a meeting in twenty minutes or I’d invite you for coffee.”

“Okay,” Stiles drew the word out, he wasn’t a stranger to being hit on, but this had to be one of the oddest and intriguing encounters he’d had to date.

“Here,” Peter released his hand and pulled a card out of his wallet, handing it over to Stiles.

“Thanks?” Stiles took the card cautiously, seeing Peter Hale, attorney at law, and his phone number. “Wait.”

Juggling his drink Stiles fished out his wallet and handed Peter his card. Just because the interaction was odd, didn’t mean that Stiles wasn’t interested. Peter filled out his suit very nicely.

Peter smiled as he took the card, “Mischief Investigations: Stiles Stilinski, Detective” Looking up at Stiles, he smiled wider, “I’ll call you for that coffee Detective, keep your social calendar open.”

“My social calendar has been collecting dust for some time now,” Stiles says with a laugh, he’s never been one to play hard to get when he sees something he likes. “Don’t you have a meeting?”

“Shit,” Peter looks at his watch and glances at the line in the coffee shop. “Yes, I do, but I’m serious Stiles, I will be calling you.”

“I look forward to it.” He tilted his cup in a salute and headed down the sidewalk towards his office.

***

“Yes Miss Standish, I’ll look into how to appease brownies right away,” Stiles paused his office phone nestled between his shoulder and ear, before clarifying, “We are talking about the fairy type of brownie and not the little girls with the cookies right?” He swallowed a laugh at the response, “Of course you know how to deal with annoying little girls, I was just checking.”

He grabbed the coffee pot, pouring the last of the dregs into his mug before adding sugar until it was palatable.

“Hmm-hmm,” He agreed with his client, “No the usual payment should be fine, your tater tot casserole is a culinary masterpiece and would be very much appreciated after the week I had.” He laughed again. “I’ll get right on your brownie problem, I should have something in forty-eight hours,” He nodded again, even though she couldn’t see him, before adding, “Of course, I’ll see you then.”

He dropped the phone from his shoulder into his hand before hanging up and taking a swallow of coffee before grimacing and adding another three spoonfuls of sugar to it.

Stiles added Miss Standish to his appointment book, making a note to do a research dive into brownies before he headed out to her place. Walking around to his desk, he flopped into his chair, tossed his feet up onto his desk, and leaned his head back to think.

Today had started out with his alarm startling him awake from yet another strange dream, then he had met Peter Hale as he’d come out of the coffee shop. That had been a very nice perk to his morning, it had almost completely washed away the discomfort that had been lingering from the dream.

Peter Hale: lawyer, and asshole, to hear the rumors around town anyway. Brother to Talia Hale, who was a well-respected member of the city council, mother and wife.

“Practically perfect in every way,” Stiles muttered, remembering what his mother used to say about Talia Hale. His mother hadn’t hated Talia, she’d just thought that she was a bit over the top and that anything that shiny on the surface was sure to have something hidden underneath.

His mother was why he’d become a private investigator, most people thought that it was because of his father, but if that was true, he’d be on the force. No, his mother taught him to question everything and that what was on the surface was often only on the surface.

He’d spent his whole life looking behind curtains and in cabinets, there was no way he’d be happy with the constraints of traditional law enforcement, unfortunately, that had led to some friction between him and his father.

They loved each other, that would never be in doubt. Noah Stilinski just couldn’t understand his son the way that Claudia had.

Stiles rolled his head on the back of his chair and looked out of his office window, turning his mind forcefully from thoughts of his father and back to the Hales, specifically Peter Hale and his glorious ass.

He startled upright when his office phone rang, “Fuck, shit,” He said as he managed to spill most of the coffee still in his cup down the front of his shirt.

Setting the now empty cup down on the desk, he held his cold damp shirt away from his chest, pulling it off and over his head as he reached for the still ringing phone. “Mischief Investigations, Stiles Stilinski speaking.”

“Hello Stiles,” Peter’s voice purred in his ear through the phone line, “Miss me?”

“I don’t know,” Stiles said, fighting to keep the smile on his face from his voice, “Who are you?”

“You,” Peter sounded baffled for a moment, “You’re having me on.”

“You aren’t forgotten very often are you Peter Hale, are you?” Stiles laughed at him, “I haven’t had time to miss you, I’ve been working,” He looked down at the shirt in his hand. “And spilling coffee on myself.”

“Are you alright,” Peter actually sounded concerned for him, it was kind of sweet.

“I’m fine, the coffee was cold,” Stiles laughed again, “Which might have been worse, it was cold and sticky, not very pleasant, luckily I live above the office.”

“I suppose I should let you go so you can get out of those clothes then,” Peter said and Stiles could hear the dirty smirk in his voice.

“Not really,” Stiles replied, “I already took the shirt off and the phone is cordless, it can travel up the stairs just fine.”

“That is quite the image I have now sweetheart,” Peter said, “That’s a cruel thing to do to a man all the way across town.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t be seeing anything anyway,” Stiles said with a laugh, “Not without a first date at least.”

“Playing hard to get sweetheart?”

“Nah,” Stiles said, “That’s not my game, I’m just a classy kind of girl.” He walked to his front door and flipped his ‘Gone to Lunch’ sign over, locked the door, and pulled the blinds.

“What are you doing?” Peter said suddenly.

“Hmm?” Stiles double-checked that the office coffee machine was off and headed through the door that led up the back hall and then another doorway that led to the stairs that would eventually take him to his apartment. “Heading up to my apartment to change and get something to eat, why?”

“You really live above your office?” Peter sounded slightly aghast at the thought.

“Of course I do,” Stiles said, unlocking and opening the door to his apartment, shutting it behind him with his foot. “I’m not going to rent someplace else when I own the building here.”

“You own…” Peter stopped, “of course you own the building.”

“Of course I do,” Stiles said with a grin, he dropped his shirt in the laundry basket and grabbed another out of his closet, quickly pulling it on he placed the phone on speaker and set it on the handset in the kitchen while he started preparing his lunch.

“You’re going to be full of surprises aren’t you sweetheart?” Peter said, almost as if he were talking to himself.

“I do try,” Stiles said with a laugh as he pulled the ingredients for a salad out of his fridge. “Life would be boring if it got predictable wouldn’t it?”

“You could be right?” Peter said, there was some sort of noise in the background and he let out a loud sigh. “I have to go, my next appointment has arrived.”

“Shame, it was nice talking to you Peter,” Stiles said, trying not to drop the bottle of balsamic dressing that he had balanced on the container of chopped romaine. “Maybe I’ll call you next time.”

“You could do that,” Peter said, the talking in the background was getting louder, “Or I could pick you up tomorrow for dinner at around 6?”

“Hmm,” Stiles thought for a minute, “I could probably do that, so long as you don’t want anything too fancy. My suits are all at the cleaners.”

Peter laughed, “I think we can do casual just fine,” there was a question in the background, “I’ve got to go. I look forward to tomorrow night Stiles.”

“Same here,” Stiles said, setting his lunch ingredients on the counter and staring at the phone, feeling a smile stretching his face wide for a moment before he reached over to hit the button to hang up. “Fuck.”

He giggled and then slapped his hands over his mouth, “Never do that again Stiles,” He muttered into his hands, still feeling a little giddy.

He knew what he looked like and he’d had quite a bit of interest once he’d left the swamp that was high school for the wide and diverse population of college, but sometimes, even in his late twenties he still got a thrill when someone as hot as Peter Hale showed the kind of interest like he was.

Stiles had managed a cool bemusement that morning, mostly because he figured that Peter’s interest was transitory and it was gratifying to know it wasn’t. It was a boost to the ego, not that Stiles’ was unhealthy in the least, but he liked to feed it regularly.

He found himself reaching for his cellphone and hitting the speed dial button.

The husky voice on the other end was brisk, “What do you want Stilinksi?”

“Always so charming Reyes, a regular lady of the manor,” Stiles said, bobbling the phone for a moment before giving in and setting it on the counter to turn his Bluetooth on.

“If I wanted to be a lady in a manor, I would be,” She snarked, “Boyd would get me one, but they’d probably make me wear long skirts and drink tea and shit.”

“The horror,” Stiles said with a laugh, as he dumped some of the romaine into a bowl with some mozzarella pearls, then he set about slicing some cherry tomatoes in half.

“So what did you call for?” He heard the sounds of the shop behind her shut off, so figured that she’d gone into the office of the auto shop’s garage to hear better. “You don’t normally call during working hours unless you need work on that travesty you call a vehicle.”

“Leave the jeep alone,” Stiles said automatically, he’d long ago stopped using it for more than the occasional drive. He’d had Erica and Boyd overhaul the engine completely a couple years back and it ran like a dream, but he was loath for something to happen to one of the last tangible connections he had to his mother. “I don’t need any vehicular assistance.”

“Then you need Boyd’s help and you want me to sweet-talk him?” Erica said and Stiles could almost picture her in her shop coveralls with her blond hair piled up on top of her head, covered in her headscarf for the day, leaning against the desk. Because Erica never sat when she could lean.

“Naw, I can just do it myself or sweet talk Jordan,” Stiles laughed, his father thought that he had Stiles locked out of the department’s computers and would be shocked to discover all the workarounds that he had, ones that very rarely included using the deputies that worked for the department.

It was part of their conflict, Stiles supposed, Noah often thought that Stiles used the people he called friends in an expedient manner, rather than the reality where he protected them as much as possible from the fallout.

“Thanks, Stiles,” There was real relief in Erica’s voice this time.

“What’s going on Catwoman?” Stiles was getting a knot in his stomach now and he pushed the half-made salad away.

“Your father had someone come in and do an audit of the department,” She began, breaking off when Stiles let out a string of curses, “Yeah, I know, but anyway, the report came in yesterday. The deputies are all clear, none of the information that it’s clear that you’ve used can be traced back to any of them, not even peripherally. Despite how people joke about your solve rate, most know you don’t risk your friends.”

“I’ve made damn sure that any information I’ve received won’t put them at risk on the job,” Stiles paused as he thought about how to put it. “And I definitely wouldn’t risk their jobs either, no matter what my father thinks. I wish I knew why he thought so badly about me.”

Stiles sighed and ran a hand over his face, all the giddy happiness he’d felt earlier falling away from him. “Fuck Erica, I’ve never done anything that should make him question me this much. So what I became a P.I. instead of a deputy or something else, so what if I go hunt down imaginary brownies for Miss Standish or check to see if Mr. Danvers is cheating this week?”

“Brownies, really?” Erica asked, “She was the most awesome English teacher, but she’s gotten strange since she bought that place next to the preserve ten years ago.”

“Not the point Erica,” Stiles snapped and then sighed, “Sorry, you don’t deserve that.”

“No, but it’s understandable.” He heard some rustling in the background then the sound of Erica sitting in, what had to be the creakiest office chair in existence. “I don’t know what’s going on with the sheriff, but we can probably lay a lot of it down to him who we can’t talk about.”

Stiles leaned over and thumped his head onto a blank spot on his countertop, “Come on, I know you guys don’t like Scott, but we haven’t spoken in months. He’s been off with his new girl, how can he be behind this latest bout of activity with my dad.”

“Stiles,” his name came on a frustrated sigh, “I’m not going to argue Scott with you, but the fact that his name was the first one you came up with, out of all the possibilities, should say something.” She was quick to hurry on before he could interject, he could tell, “Your dad thinks Scott hung the fucking moon for some damn reason, so Scott doesn’t have to say much of anything, he just needs to be worried about you.”

Fuck, she had a point. Stiles didn’t know when his friendship with Scott had hit the rails, he thought probably right after it started, but his mom had been around to limit their interactions and encourage Stiles to play with other kids. Around the time she got sick, Noah had taken to relying heavily on Melissa McCall and Stiles had ended up with Scott by default, making them best friends and it was okay for a while.

Then it wasn’t and Stiles hadn’t known how to break away without hurting his dad, or worse yet, disappointing him even more. Now, look at them.

“Yeah, fuck Erica,” Stiles groaned into his hands, “I’m going to have to do something about this aren’t I.”

“You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to Stiles,” Erica said, the sound of snapping gum came through the phone, “But your father’s crackdown at the station and his action towards you and those that you are friendly with is probably only going to get worse from here on out.”

“I hate this,” Stiles lifted his head and let it fall a couple times.

“Boyd loves his job, despite all this Stiles,” Erica said. “But he’d quit in a hot minute if he had to choose between it and your friendship, you should know that.”

“I think I did,” Stiles said, “I just, this feels so out of control.”

“You’ve done a lot of good for this town and the people in it Stiles, maybe your father has blinded himself because he’s so busy looking for imaginary wrongs that he can’t see it, but if he tries to go more public than he has with this campaign, he might be surprised.” Erica’s voice held an undercurrent of steel.

“It’s my dad and Scott, Erica,” Stiles and then sighed, “but you’re right, this is going beyond my dad and I, it’s beginning to affect the rest of you in ways that are going to have consequences I won’t be able to live with.”

“We want you happy Stiles and this tug of war that your dad and Scott play with you is exhausting even as spectators,” Erica said quietly for once, “Most of them don’t say anything, because we all know how you feel about it, but you know I don’t give a fuck, so I’m saying something now. You have a solid steel spine when it comes to everyone else, but those two, you need to get one for them and stop letting them walk all over you. Your dad is a grown-ass man Stiles.”

“He took losing mom bad Erica,” Stiles started to say.

“Batman,” Erica let out a harsh bark of laughter that held no humor, “Your mother had been gone for almost twenty years, she’s been gone longer than they were ever together, don’t you think that your dad should probably learn to walk without that crutch by now?”

“He misses her, I miss her.”

“Of course you do,” Erica agreed, “That’s fine, but you don’t have it running your life in any way but this, you give your father so much leeway and excuse so much of his behavior towards you using that excuse. Don’t you think you should let that go?”

“You might be right,” Stiles said.

“Besides, he’s been dating Melissa McCall for what, over a year now, right?”

“What, no, they aren’t dating, he’s not dating anyone,” Stiles stuttered and laughed, “I would know if he was dating someone, especially Melissa.”

Erica was quiet on the other end of the line, “Would you Stiles? Because it’s been pretty clear that they’ve been dating for the last year to most of the town, you can ask around if you don’t want to believe me.”

“No,” Stiles felt his throat start to close up, “No, I believe you, just… Why wouldn’t he tell me?”

“Maybe the distance is greater than you thought?” Erica suggested.

Stiles saw spots begin to appear in his vision and heard his breaths coming in little puffing gasps.

“Fuck,” Erica’s voice sounded so far away, “Stiles, Stiles listen to me. I need you to sit down if you aren’t already.”

That sounded like a good idea, so Stiles slid to the floor, his vision starting to grey at the edges. His chest felt tight and all the air seemed to be gone from his lungs. He was having a panic attack, he was aware of this somewhere in the back of his mind, but it didn’t help him at the moment.

“Stiles, I need you to breathe with me,” Erica’s voice was loud but calm and even-toned. “In one, two, three, four, out five, six, seven, eight, and again.”

They did this a few times before Erica started to ask him a series of questions about what he saw, heard, smelled and he slowly regained control of himself. He felt rung out, sitting on his kitchen floor, legs splayed, head leaned back against his cabinets.

“Well, this made for an interesting afternoon,” Stiles quipped.

“Time with you is always full of excitement,” Erica agreed, “Look, Boyd is off tonight and so are a few of the others. We’re going to bring take out and come by, we need a strategy session or you are going to fold like a cheap tent and you know it.”

“Yeah Yeah,” Stiles muttered, “Bring Chinese, extra egg rolls, and crab rangoon.”

“Of course, I’m not a heathen,” Erica said and hung up.

“Fuck my life,” Stiles said tiredly, managing to stagger to his feet, looking at the salad ingredients he shook his head in disgust, his appetite long since gone, and began to pack it all back up. “Fuck, I forgot to tell her about Peter.”

Shoving the last of his abandoned lunch back into the fridge, Stiles took his work handset back downstairs and put it up, before setting his door sign from lunch to closed. After that attack, there was just no way he was going to be able to deal with clients today.

He closed up the office for the day, grabbing his laptop and his notebooks, along with his open files off his desk, before heading back up the stairs, locking the doors behind him as he headed up this time.

He’d get some research in on some of his cases, like Miss Standish’s brownies. He’d also lay out a plan of attack for his dad and Scott, he needed to have some sort of plan written out or Erica was right, he’d fold the first time they figuratively wobbled a lip at him.

***

Stiles went down and unlocked the side entrance to his building once Erica texted that they were on the way, that way they wouldn’t have to go in through his office entrance and all the varied hallways to get up to his apartment.

“Batman,” Erica caroled out at the sight of him waiting for them, “Come help haul in some of this food, I’m too delicate a lady to be doing all this work.”

“I can see that,” Stiles said, looking at his long time friend, her blond curls were falling wild over her shoulders and she was wearing a halter topped bright red sundress with white polka dots, the style was fantastically Erica all the way. “You look fantastic Catwoman, though why you’re dressed up for my apartment is beyond me.”

“Oh no, I’m dressed up for Boyd, he’s getting a reward later,” She shot a smile at Boyd where he stood next to their car, food bags in hand, the long-suffering expression on his face.

“He’s going to need one it looks like,” Stiles said with a laugh, “Here let me help with some of that man.” He grabbed a few bags and hustled the two of them up the stairs.

“Don’t lock up, a few others said they were going to come by,” Boyd said quietly as they came in the door.

“Others?” Stiles asked, “I’m glad to see you and really glad the two of you came to help plan, but I’m not sure how much I’m actually going to be able to pull off. Erica has a good point that it’s my dad and Scott, I’ve never been much good standing against them.”

“I know Jordan was going to try and stop by, he was going to bring Lydia with him if that was alright,” Erica said from her spot at the table as she set out plates from his cupboards. “Jackson was definitely coming by and Danny said to tell you he might be running a little late, but he would be here.”

“Derek and Cora wanted to come by, but I said I’d ask first, since you don’t know them as well as we do, but they have the basics of what’s going on. Derek is an excellent EMT and Cora has been one of our best Deputies since she joined, you were friendly with both when they were in school, Derek was a year behind us, Cora a few more if you remember.”

“Yeah, more Hales,” Stiles gave a laugh and rubbed the back of his neck, “I keep running into them everywhere lately.”

“What do you mean?” Erica was suddenly at his side, “What Hales have you been running into?”

“It’s actually why I called you earlier today,” Stiles said with a wave of his hand, “I ran into Peter Hale this morning at the coffee shop, almost literally. We exchanged cards and he called me, we’re going out tomorrow, I was calling to see what you might know about him around town.” He gave her a smirk, “Since you always seem to know about as much as I do about the people in this town.”

“Oh boy,” Erica said with a huffy laugh, “Peter Hale, wow.”

“Yeah,” Stiles looked at her, “Wait, there isn’t anything wrong with him is there?” He started to panic a little when she didn’t say anything immediately. “I need to cancel my date, don’t I? He’s going to turn out to be a creepy serial killer like Theo isn’t he, fuck and he has such a great ass too,” Stiles whined and sat down laying his head on the table.

“He does indeed have a great ass,” Boyd agreed, eating a forkful of lo mein.

“Not helping,” Erica hissed at Boyd, “He’s not a serial killer.” She finally said, sitting down next to Stiles.

“Are you sure?” He mumbled into the table.

“Yes I’m sure,” Erica huffed annoyed, she reached over and yanked at his hair. “He’s Derek’s uncle, I think we’d figure out if he were a serial killer at some point.”

“Okay, maybe not a serial killer then,” Stiles conceded, “but something made you make the face.”

“He’s just,” Erica seemed to be searching for the right words, which was completely unlike her.

“He’s an ass,” Boyd replied, “Which is appropriate since you seem to like his ass.”

“No,” Erica says, then shakes her head, “well, yes, Peter is definitely an ass and you do like that kind of thing, but he tends to play the field a bit.”

“You’re saying you think this is going to be a one night kind of thing then?” Stiles said, finally sitting all the way up and starting to fill his plate with food.

“Possibly,” Erica said, “I’ve never heard of him giving someone his card and then calling them, usually he expects to be called.”

“He did come across a bit overconfident,” Stiles agreed, taking a bite of his egg roll.

“You mean he’s an arrogant twat,” Jackson said from the doorway, where he’d obviously been eavesdropping. “Don’t eat all the moo shu chicken you heathen.” He hurried to the table and shoved at Stiles.

“I’m eating the curry you ass,” Stiles said with a toothy grin, “Boyd has the moo shu and the lo mein.”

Boyd offered Jackson a sunny smile from across the table.

“You are all annoying twats,” Jackson said with what could only be described as a pout on his face.

“For fuck’s sake,” Cora said coming through the door, “you spent one fucking semester in London, stop trying to sound like you assimilated or something, it’s annoying as fuck. Give me some orange chicken or die.”

Derek came in the door at a more sedate pace than his sister, a curly-haired Isaac following close behind.

“Look who I found loitering in the parking lot,” Isaac smiled over Derek’s shoulder, “You’d think a deputy would know better.”

“He’s not a deputy,” this time the door revealed, what Stiles hoped would be the last of his friends, “He’s an EMT.”

“Lydia,” Jackson greeted her coolly from across the room.

“Jackson,” Lydia sniffed.

Eventually, they were all there seated around his dining room table. Boyd and Erica, the only people he’d actually invited for dinner and the rest of them.

Jackson and Danny were sitting next to each other, practically in each other’s laps. Jackson was still denying they were in a relationship, but Stiles didn’t know how much longer that was going to fly.

Lydia and Jordan were next to them so that Jackson and Lydia could snipe cool little digs at each other that amounted to hugs and kisses among other friends.

Cora and Isaac were inhaling the Chinese food like someone had told them it was their last meal, Derek sat placidly next to them eating his own meal and slapping at their hands when they tried to pick off his plate.

Stiles didn’t even know what half of them were doing here.

“So, why are you all here?” He didn’t see the need to beat around the bush, especially if Isaac was going to eat all the curry and Derek was eating the last crab rangoon.

“Erica called us and told us a little about what has been going on,” Danny said, “Each of us knew a little bit of it, but we weren’t aware of how widespread this was.”

“We knew that things were a little strained between you and your dad,” Lydia agreed.

“Nobody knew how bad it was, you stopped coming by the station a few years back and your dad just stopped talking about you unless someone asked him directly,” Jordan added.

“Things aren’t bad,” Stiles started to say, only to be interrupted by Isaac tsking at him.

“Stiles,” Isaac looked at him all curly-haired, dewy-eyed intensity, “It’s bad enough that you’re planning a strategy session so you can stand up to Scott.”

“It’s not like that,” Stiles protested a little helplessly, “I mean it kind of is, but not really.”

“Tell us what it is like then,” Jordan said with a look around the table that had everyone else sitting back and keeping their mouths shut if the silence around Stiles was any indication.

“Look, Scott was my friend back when we were kids, when my mom got sick it made sense that Melissa would help shuffle me to and from the hospital. After she died, I kind of shut down for a while, when I came back up for air, Scott was there. He was in my house and Melissa was helping my dad with childcare and it was a whole system I couldn’t mess with.”

Stiles sighed and ran a hand into his hair, “Scott was never my best friend, no matter what he and my dad think, but he was my friend for a while. I don’t know what he is now, but he is important to my dad and my dad is the sticking point.”

“He’s right,” Lydia said waving off the protests, “Scott is a problem, but he isn’t the important one. The Sheriff is the issue, his perceptions of Stiles and his decisions over the years to slowly escalate this attack on Stiles’ character are the big problem and need to be addressed.”

“He hasn’t been attacking me,” Stiles said defensively feeling his shoulders pull up towards his ears and forcing them to stay down. “He’s just looking out for me and he worries, he just doesn’t understand me like mom did.”

“I remember you being stubborn,” Cora snapped the last bite of her eggroll up, “I just don’t remember you being quite so stupid.”

“Cora,” Derek said in exasperation, literally facepalming at his sister’s actions. “We agreed to let them talk to Stiles since they knew the situation better than we did.”

“No you agreed to let them talk, I agreed to come for free food.” Cora grabbed another helping of the orange chicken, seeming to ignore the incredulous stares she was getting. “I’m just saying that nobody here doubts how much you love your dad or your loyalty to him and by extension to Scott, no one here thinks you are actually loyal to Scott at this point, at least I hope no one here is that stupid.”

“She makes a good point,” Erica said, “Nobody can doubt how much you love your dad Stiles, but the way this is going isn’t fair to you.”

“This isn’t fair to anyone,” Stiles sighed in agreement. “I don’t know what I’m going to do, but burying my head in the sand and ignoring it the way I have been is obviously no longer an option, not when he’s begun to let it affect the way he’s treating you on the job.”

“That’s why we’re here,” Jordan said, answering Stiles’ earlier question. “We’ll help you figure out a way to at least limit the Sheriff’s actions.”

“I think he’ll be surprised by the support you have,” Isaac said with a smile.

“Him and Scott both,” Jackson agreed, “Scott always had this idea that he was your only friend or something.”

“That boy has two brain cells and one is usually sleeping,” Lydia said with a grimace.

“Now that isn’t true,” Derek interjected, giving Lydia a face that said he was disappointed in her, “he can’t have more than half a brain cell at this point, it’s probably named Allison too.”

Laughter bubbled up from the pit of Stiles’ stomach, it started as a giggle and turned into a chuckle, the next thing he knew he was laughing so hard he couldn’t catch his breath, and tears were streaming down his face.

“It’ll be, well not okay, but it’ll get better Batman,” Erica said, her arms around him and his face buried in a cloud of her sweet-scented hair.

“No matter the fallout,” Danny was there with his hand on his shoulder, “we’re with you.”

“Good or bad,” Jackson agreed, “Scott already has the ugly covered, so we don’t have to worry about that on our side.”

“You’re such a dick, Whitmore,” Cora said.

“I’ve been told I have a very pretty dick Hale,” Jackson said agreeably, hands in his pockets smirk on his face until Danny smacked him in the stomach.

“Please, no one, except possibly Danny, wants to know anything about Jackson’s dick right now,” Stiles said, squeezing his eyes shut and leaning into Erica a little more.

Erica’s shoulders shook as she began to giggle and Stiles laughed with her, a lot less hysterically this time.

“Alright,” Stiles pulled away from Erica and pulled himself together, he was done falling apart over this, or if he wasn’t done he could at least do the rest in private. “I can’t ask those of you who work at the station to betray your boss or your jobs.”

“Stiles,” Jordan began.

“No,” Stiles said, standing, he was going to be absolutely firm on this point. “I’ll accept all the support you want to give me, but you can’t jeopardize your jobs Beacon Hills and County needs competent and trusted deputies to look out for them.”

“Stiles is right,” Lydia said pursing her lips and before Stiles knew it, they were all back around his kitchen table hammering out a strategy for dealing with his dad to mitigate the Sheriff’s attempts at undermining Stiles in the community.

Cora was looking over the list of people they had made that could be counted on to support Stiles and passed it to her brother, who got busy adding names to the list, when the others looked at her she just started back.

“The Sheriff doesn’t seem to realize that you have a steady foundation of support in the community,” and then to their looks of surprise she asked, “What, I can’t hear things?”

“Then we start by shoring up that foundation,” Lydia said and the others nodded. “Stiles goes about his day and does his best to stay out of the Sheriff’s sight and avoid Scott.”

“If he can’t?” Derek asked softly.

“I’ll do what I do best,” Stiles smiled at them all, “You all seem to forget who I am in your need to protect me, which while your gesture of friendship is appreciated and I’m not denigrating it, I’ve made dealing with difficult people part of my actual job.”

“That’s still your dad,” Boyd said, sounding a little doubtful.

“It is,” Stiles felt his heart clench, “My mother told me something when I was younger that I didn’t understand until just a few years ago, I think it’s very applicable here.”

“What would that be?” Jackson asked quietly from his spot next to Danny and Isaac.

“She said that as much as I was a Stilinski, I was also a Gajos and we take our loyalties and betrayals seriously,” He shrugged, “I’m taking this very seriously, I love my dad, I just don’t think I trust him anymore, not with myself or my people.”

“Are you sure Stiles?” Danny asked leaning forward, resting his elbows on the table.

“As sure as I can be,” Stiles tried on a reassuring smile, “I don’t think it will be easy, but after I hung up with Erica today I made a few phone calls of my own and I can honestly say that as much as I hate it, I can’t trust my father right now. Definitely not with the safety of the department right while he’s distracted with me.

“Then we have a plan,” Cora stood up and clapped her hands, “good, Derek promised me ice cream on the way home.”

“Cora Renee,” Derek practically barked at her.

‘What, you did and my favorite ice cream place closes in thirty minutes.” Cora crossed her arms in front of her and glared at her brother.

“It’s fine Derek,” Stiles laughed at the two of them, he hadn’t known either of them well in school and still only knew them now through their mutual friendships, but he was finding them vastly amusing. “I need to get to bed soon, I have research to do tomorrow and then I have a date tomorrow night.”

“A date?” Lydia was suddenly at his side, her interest completely snagged.

“You’ll never guess with who,” Erica was there as well and Stiles managed to get them out the door with Boyd’s help and a little of Jordan’s

“You know she’s going to make you pay for that distraction technique don’t you?” Danny asked.

“Of course she is,” Stiles winked at him, “but who do you think taught me that version?”

Danny laughed and helped hustle the rest of them out the door when Stiles heard from down the hall Lydia’s screech.

“Peter Hale!”

“Why is she yelling about our uncle?” Derek looked at Stiles as he followed them down to the door outside, so he could lock up after they all left.

“Well, I imagine that Erica told her who my date is with tomorrow,” Stiles replied nonchalantly, opening the door and ushering them out.

“Peter Hale?” Derek goggled at him.

“Our Uncle Peter?” Cora sounded a little choked to him.

“I believe so unless there is another Peter Hale with an amazing ass living here in Beacon Hills?” Stiles shut the door on their shocked faces, locked it, and turned to head back up the stairs to clean up his dining area.

He made himself a few notes for the next day and got ready for bed, life was about to get very full and interesting.