potosi | and I know the call of my unborn sons colors all I've done.

[ If Derek were privy to this checklist, he would amend the currently in progress portion of it. However, as he's not, he simply sets his hand on the top of Isaac's head as he leans against him. Looking down at him when he feels him look up, he huffs a quiet laugh and ruffles at his curls.

Thank you, son. He appreciates that. It makes things a lot easier.

As the attention is brought to their route again, he slides a look over towards Stiles and quirks an eyebrow. The run-in with the sheriff went better than he could've expected, since he made an (not entirely) unexpected ally in his Honorary Dad's father. ]

Stiles, I haven't changed the map since you last looked and we definitely aren't at Lydia's yet.

[Isaac rolls his eyes, giving Derek a look that says 'you're the one that likes him.']

Keep going that way.

[Scott can't resist giving a laugh at Isaac's response, but is at least kind enough to tug at Stiles's arm to lead him.]

Come on, they're waiting on us!

[Even Stiles snorts good naturedly, rolling his eyes and holding up his free hand. Isaac is almost as sarcastic as he is. It's probably why Stiles likes him so much. The tug brings him forward, including the arm that's still loosely wrapped around Derek's.]

Hey, 'm just saying, you're the keeper of the map and I'm the mere mortal. Uh. Direwolf.

[ Derek shrugs helplessly back at Isaac, with a look that pretty much translates to 'thank god he's pretty.' Slight roll of his head included, before he gets brought forward along with Stiles.

His arm tightens, briefly, before he falls in step again with him and he can loosen up without worrying about getting separated. ]

Wolves tend to have keen senses of direction, Stiles. They have to, if they're going to navigate their territories.

Exactly. So, we kind of have this down, Stiles. You've gotta keep up to be a good member of pack.

[He looks back up at Derek, makes eye contact, and rolls his eyes. Seriously, dad, he barely has that going for him. He needs to step up his game to be an alpha.]

We were almost there anyway! He's not that bad.

[Well, at least one wolf'll take it easy on Stiles. Usually.]

Scott gets me.

[Squeezing Scott's hand emphatically, he grins one of their Secret Grins at him, then returns his attention back to the front, keeping an eye out for the strawberry blonde curls he could probably pick out of an airplane.]

I'm on my werewolf training wheels.

[ He returns the eyeroll to his eldest son, setting his hand at the back of his neck and giving a little squeeze. It's not enough to be a scruff, but more of a reassuring gesture to back up Stiles' joke. They'll teach him, all right.

It'll just take a while. ]

Don't worry, you'll figure it out eventually.

We hope so, anyway. If not you'll probably never be more than a gamma.

[And that was so not what they were going for, alright. At the gesture he straightens up a little, though, pouting just a little at his father.]

He won't be a gamma. Stiles is the smartest! He'll get there.

[Where exactly, he wasn't saying.]

[Allison is sitting on the hill with Lydia when she hears a familiar group of voices coming up the hill. She nearly drops her bow out of excitement and scrambles up into a standing position, her braid swinging over her shoulder as she hurries out a few feet and shyly waves at Scott, all dimples and smiles.]

Scott! Isaac!

[Before Stiles has much time to ponder whatever Scott and Isaac were suggesting, he gets distracted. And of course he gets distracted, who wouldn't get distracted, when Lydia Martin's waiting for you near the top of the hill, holding hands with Allison Argent, seven years old and dressed as Katniss from the Hunger Games. Lydia herself is in a slinky dress--the picture of a Bond Girl, red lips, a killer smile, and armed more or less with the feminist bible memorized. She's not as visibly enthusiastic as Allison, but she purses her lips as the group approaches, eyeing Stiles and Derek's arm before releasing Allison's hand to let her hurry to see Scott.

Hope you can feel her judging you, boys.]

[ Next to the femme fatale and her braided companion are two of the slickest gentlemen you'll ever see, although one is much shorter and far more adorable than the other. Danny grins wide when they catch sight of the Hales and their plus one, all dimples as he stops fiddling with the tie that's tucked under his sweater vest. His hair is ruffled, sort of an organized chaos, but perched on top of his head for the moment is a pair of fake glasses.

He nearly knocks them off waving to Isaac and Scott. ]

Hi guys!

[ Behind him and closer to Lydia is Jackson, who is the picture perfect definition of James Bond, all slick hair and sleek suit. He doesn't look particularly impressed, either, which is an added bonus.

He tilts his head towards Lydia, briefly, as his eyes land on Derek and Stiles. He snorts, head bobbing with the sound, but he doesn't say anything. Just rolls his eyes. ]

[ That is the exact moment that Derek knows tonight's going to be... interesting. Rather than greet either of the adults with words, though, he bares his teeth in a false smile at Jackson in response to his snort and eyeroll. Essentially daring him to say something in front of four children. ]

Allison! Danny!

[Grinning as wide as he can, Scott bites his lip and waves back at both of them, shifting a little shyly. He looks to Isaac, reaching back to fix his own scarlet wings, and bounces on his toes.]

Katniss- and... Who's Mister Jackson?

I think he's trying to be James Bond, cos Danny's totally Q.

[With a grin of his own, Isaac shoves his hands in his pockets and smirks.]

We're Cannonball and Icarus. Hey, Danny, Allison.

[Snorting quietly, Stiles raises his eyebrows at Jackson, muttering a 'he'd make a better Goldfinger' just loud enough for Derek to hear, then catches Lydia's Patented Judging Stare.

Damn, she's still beautiful. Twenty years of pining over her and she's still the most gorgeous thing on two legs. But twenty years of pining were also like six years of Jackson and Lydia being a thing, and eventually, Stiles had managed to stop seeing Lydia as a perfect goddess, with the right mix of gorgeous beauty and ridiculous sadism, and saw her more as a person--they became friends, too similar to be completely compatible.

But damn, she was still hot as a goddess. That is so unfair to him and his already overwired hormones. He doesn't need to look at her to imagine her expression, one perfectly groomed eyebrow raised to show her interest in the whole sort-of-not-really-kind-of-yes date thing he was involved in right now.

Heck yes. He's totally on a sort of not really kind of date, Lydia. Read it and weep. Managing an awkward, three fingered wave and a grin, he leans backwards, rocking on his heels a little. ]

Sorry we're late, we got stopped by the police.

Fashion or otherwise.

[Lydia's lips quirk up a little--shrugging her shoulders just slightly, she reaches for Jackson's arm, wrapping her slim fingers in the crook of his elbow. They have a Halloween party to be getting to; in all honesty, it says a lot that she's waited around for them.

It's mostly because of her darling, perfect Allison, who is Lydia's favorite person in the entire world.]

[Said darling, perfect little archer makes her way out from behind Lydia holding something--a Reese's pumpkin, which she offers to Scott. Chocolate and peanut butter!]

Ready to go, Scott?

[She gives him a shy, dimpled smile. Yep, they're tooth meltingly precious.]

[ Danny shoots a glance up to Jackson briefly, almost as if telling his uncle to behave himself-- he gets a heavy, dramatic roll of the eyes back before being nudged forward-- then, once satisfied, goes to join Allison with Isaac and Scott. ]

Yep! It was my idea, but it'd be better if Uncle Jackson would play along a little better.

[ His tone implies he doesn't think that's possible. ]

You guys look super cool, though.

[ Only Lydia and Danny's insistence to wait-- even with Lydia's being for Allison's benefit-- have gotten Jackson to wait. The Halloween party is calling to them, and he's been looking at his watch every minute on the dot while they waited. ]

Let's get going-- we can talk and walk at the same time.

[ As he tucks his arm close to him, looking like a gentleman despite the haughty smirk on his face, he closes the fingers of his free hand over Lydia's. ]

Though in Stilinski's case, I don't know if that's possible.

[ Derek's false smile becomes a little more genuine with Stiles' comment, and he has to duck his head a moment to snort to himself before he actually laughs a little instead. But he just rolls his eyes with Lydia and Jackson's commentary, and doesn't comment on the bundle of scents that Stiles has become.

If he pays too close attention to that, he's going to regret it later.

Instead, he straightens and smirks at Jackson, much to his chagrine. ]

Well, if you're in such a hurry.

[ Under his breath so that only Stiles (and maybe his sons, if they're paying attention) will hear, he comments with 'hell of a lot more possible than you getting your head out of your ass.' ]

[Isaac could have tried to ignore Derek's comment- and he really would have, in favour of Danny's- but, well.

...It was kind of hilarious.

Covering his mouth, Isaac nearly doubles over, crossing his arms over his stomach.]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject