Title – Werewolf Life Partner
Sequel To – This Is My Family
Author – Moonbeam
Rating – Teen
Warnings – Nothing
Summary – Stiles is moving in with his Werewolf Life Partner and his family send him a present to celebrate.
Disclaimer – Don't own either universe – just Netflix, DVDs, and a highly suggestive brain.
Author's Notes – This story just kind of poured out. But I don't know if I'm happy with it. But, it's the last night of my holidays and I should be in bed because I have to get up for work tomorrow but I make terrible life choices around fic, so I'm posting it anyway. I'm going to try and finish a couple of other fics before I work on the next one of these.
Please, let me know if it is any good.

Werewolf Life Partner
by Moonbeam

Derek couldn't sleep. It wasn't that anything would be that different come morning, except everything would be completely different.

Derek had built his house, in part, for the pack. He had money and they were all at university and the pack didn't have a base. Derek might not be an alpha anymore but it was hard to leave behind the instincts of it – especially with Scott's specific brand of alpha. So, Derek developed a bit of land that he now owned and put a house big enough for a pack on it. Lydia had been very opinionated about the whole process and had somehow found out when he was picking out all of the different selections for the house and was there, with her two cents. He'd done most of the work during the summer specifically so he could ask for help if he wanted it – if he ever did it again he was going to do it when Lydia was nowhere to be found.

Even though it was a pack house with space for each member, and some spare, they only really spent time there on full moons and pack time. Other than that it was Derek's space and he was territorial of it in a way he hadn't been since before his family died. And Stiles had spent a lot of time at the house – weekends home since his birthday, and a lot of nights since he'd permanently come home. But this was different, this was something big, this made his territory into their territory.

Derek had asked him to move in, he'd planned out a speech, but in the end he hadn't quite known how to actually say the words he'd been planning. In the end, Stiles had had to work out what exactly he was trying to say and then throw himself at Derek and say…yes, yes, oh man, we are going to have so much sex. Then they had had sex and all of the words about this being something more than just moving in together, that this was a big deal for Derek, had flown away. That was a week ago and in that time Derek had tried, more than once, to explain everything to Stiles but he kept getting distracted by packing and Stiles critiquing his haberdashery choices. Though, admittedly, the first night Stiles spent at Derek's house he complained about the black sheets and grey duvet cover; so, it certainly wasn't something new.

Now, it was three in the morning and Derek couldn't sleep because he'd never explained everything and he can't go through with this without Stiles knowing what he was getting into.

He climbed out of bed and pulled on a pair of jeans. He contemplated just shifting and running there but he knew that he'd just have to come back and get his car later anyway. So, he took his stupidly big car, wishing he could drive the Camaro, and drove to Stiles' place. He stared at the house, at Stiles' dark window for way too long before he forced himself out of the car. As he climbed up the side of the house, dodging the climbing vine that Stiles' aunt had given his father for 'protection', he realised this would be the last time he entered Stiles' room like this.

Stiles woke up as his window opened and he sat up, reaching for his bat before he realised who was standing there. "Derek?"

"Hey."

Stiles threw back the covers and laid back down. "Come to bed."

"No."

Stiles sat up and turned on the lamp, frowning at Derek. "What are you doing here? Is something wrong?"

Derek walked over and sat next to Stiles, shaking his head. "No, sorry, I just need to talk to you."

"About?"

"You moving in."

"Have you changed your mind?" Stiles asked, eyes wide and the acrid smell of heartache flooding the air.

"No, but you might."

Stiles frowned. "Why?"

"I had a plan when I asked you to move in."

Stiles' frown deepened. "You didn't though…I invited myself."

Derek grabbed Stiles' hand. "I built the house for the pack but they don't live there."

"Yeah…"

"And I'm not the alpha but-"

"You still have all the instincts – you just don't have the eyes."

Derek nodded.

"Derek, please, just tell me what you're trying to talk around."

"This isn't just moving in, not like people do who are humans."

"I know."

Derek froze, frowning at Stiles. "I don't think you understand."

"Dude, is that what this is? Because trust me, I get it. Scott talked to me about it, Cora called me about it, and my Dad even had a talk to me about it. I have to tell you it's hilarious to have your father try and warn you about not hurting your boyfriend. He wants to protect me but he likes you so much he wants to protect you as well. It's very sweet. But, the thing is, none of them needed to tell me anything – I know you and I'm the one in the pack who does the research. I know how big a deal this is…I know you're inviting me into your territory."

"I'm making it ours," Derek corrected.

Stiles smiled and pushed at Derek's jacket. "Lose the shoes. It's late and we have a big day ahead of us tomorrow. We're completely on the same page."

Derek toed off his shoes and collapsed into bed next to Stiles.

"And we're going out to buy better sheets."

"My sheets are high thread count and soft as butter."

"They are black, or black, or black, we are going to get some colour into our bedroom."

Derek smiled widely, tucking his face into Stiles' neck. "Our bedroom?"

"With colour."

"Sometimes."

"Okay, fine, sometimes. We can alternate them."

Derek nodded, his exhaustion suddenly overwhelming and the next time he was aware of anything the sunlight was streaming in the window and he could smell coffee. When he opened his eyes the Sheriff was standing next to the bed staring down at them, two mugs of coffee in his hands.

"Sheriff," Derek said, sitting up.

"You should probably call me Sam when you're in my son's bed."

Stiles laughed and turned over to grab at one of the mugs of coffee. "You're doing your Sheriff stare, Dad, what did you expect?"

"To come and find my son alone on his last morning here."

"Sorry," Derek said, getting up. "I'll go outside."

The sheriff huffed at him and handed him the second mug of coffee. "Don't worry about it, I should have known better."

"Dad," Stiles said, throwing his legs out from under the covers and standing up.

The Sheriff made a face and shoved his hands into his pockets. "I'm going to miss you, son."

Stiles held out his coffee to Derek and then threw his arms around his Dad. "It's okay, I'm going to still come over and bug the crap out of you."

Sam hugged his son back. "Promise."

Stiles nodded and pulled back. "I told the pack to come at ten so we have time to have breakfast."

"With bacon."

"Dad," Stiles said, grabbing his coffee back and shepherding his father from the room. "I am not going to suddenly start letting you have bacon just because I'm moving in with my Werewolf Life Partner."

"Your what?" Derek asked, following them down the stairs. "Sam, do you want me to go and wait in the car?"

"My werewolf life partner," Stiles repeated. "And you don't need to go and wait in the car."

"I don't know what that is," Derek said, frowning at him. "And I asked your dad."

"It's okay," Sam said, "you're his werewolf life partner – you're family."

Derek huffed quietly, folding his arms across his chest, and glaring at Stiles. "What is a werewolf life partner?"

Stiles beamed at him. "We're moving in together but you haven't put a ring on it so what else are we going to be? It's more than just dating, it's not quite mates, so you're my werewolf life partner and I'm your-"

Sam held up a hand. "I do not want to know what's about to come out of your mouth."

"Human life partner?" Derek offered.

Stiles shook his head and Derek had to agree with his father – he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

They ate breakfast and it was like it had been before, before Derek and Stiles started dating and the Sheriff had shifted gears from…whatever he'd been before to the father of the man Derek was in love with. And the person he did intend to 'put a ring on' at some point. When they were finished, Derek started carrying boxes down to his massive car. He'd bought it as soon as it became clear that the pack was going to get bigger not smaller. He'd filled up the boot while Stiles very carefully put all of his electronic equipment in the back seat when the rest of the pack arrived. They made short work of packing every car with all of Stiles' stuff – and just managed to make everything fit, before they set back off for Derek's house.

Derek left a few minutes before everyone else. Partially, to give Stiles time with his father and partly so Derek could have a moment alone. He wanted Stiles to live in his territory – to claim it for himself the way he had claimed Derek but wanting it desperately did not take away Derek's anxiety. Everyone Derek had loved had left him, until Stiles, but there was always the risk that Derek might be wrong about Stiles.

There was a box on his verandah when Derek drove up to his house. He could smell another person, but the smell was familiar – there was only one delivery company that would actually come to the house and it was definitely Damien's mix of pot, ink, and cardboard. The box was addressed to Stiles and Derek, so he felt almost no guilt in sitting down on the steps and slicing through the sticky tape holding it together with a finger. Inside was another box and a folded piece of heavy parchment paper.

Stiles and Derek,

Congratulations on moving in together.

May your home always be safe from those who would do you harm and there always be space in your yard to bury those who would subdue you.

Either way, I wish you both utter bliss,

Morticia and Gomez Addams

Derek frowned down at the note and then shook his head and smiled down at the box – he was being ridiculous; Stiles wasn't going anywhere. He took the box into the house, excitement filling him at what was coming, and left it on the table by the door along with his keys before he went back out and started unloading the car. He did not touch anything in the backseat – Stiles was very protective of his tech equipment. He had finished and was debating whether he should be unpacking the items in the boxes when he heard the rest of the cars on the long drive. As soon as they arrived, Stiles bounded out of his jeep and threw himself at Derek. Derek caught him and held him high up while Stiles kissed him enthusiastically.

"Stiles?" Sam said, from behind Stiles.

"It's exciting, Dad," Stiles said, pulling back and dropping back down to stand on his own feet. "Moving in with my werewolf life partner."

"Your what?" Scott asked, looking at Derek as though the beta would ever be able to explain Stiles.

"There was a delivery on the step when I came home," Derek said, his arm still around Stiles.

"What was it?"

Derek shrugged. "The card said it was from your aunt and uncle."

"If it's anything like that vine they gave me after your birthday it's more trouble than it's worth." Sam told them.

"It's for protection," Stiles reminded him.

Sam rolled his eyes. "There aren't any werewolves crawling in my windows now that you've left home."

"You're still hot, in an older man way," Malia said. "I'm sure there are some werewolves who'd be willing."

Everyone turned to look at Malia. She stared back at them and then shrugged.

"I'm still never sure if I should thank you for comments like that," Sam said, turning around to walk out of the house. "I'm going to get some stuff out of the car."

The pack followed him out and they unpacked until all of Derek's lounge room and bedroom were full of boxes. Then Stiles clapped his hands together and pulled Derek into a kiss.

"We live together now," Stiles said, excited. "This is going to be amazing. And probably a little hard."

"Very," Sam said drily.

"Wow, Dad, thanks for the vote of confidence."

"Well, Derek's been living alone for how long? And you're a little Stiles-like."

"Hey, I resemble that comment," Stiles said, offended.

"I like that he's Stiles," Derek said quietly.

"Then it will be hard but you'll be fine," Sam said, looking at the boxes around them. "Now, are we unpacking or what?"

"We're unpacking," Stiles said. "No one is touching the tech stuff. I'll set all that up after Derek kicks you all out."

"Why am I kicking them out?"

Stiles shrugged. "Because they annoy you."

"Then you can all leave now," Derek told the pack before he hefted the box marked linen. "I'm going to put this in the linen press."

"Dad," Stiles said, "block your ears because Derek talking about having a linen press is incredibly hot."

Derek felt his cheeks flush but he kept moving. As soon as he made it to the linen closet he opened the box and then groaned – nothing was folded. He dropped the box and lifted out the towels. He gently sniffed everything before he put it away but he knew Stiles was considerate enough of his werewolf sensibilities to have everything be clean and smell of him, and vaguely of the Sheriff but that was to be expected. Derek dug through until he found a soft blue set of sheets (the ones that smelled only of Stiles) and went upstairs to change his own sheets – no better time to ensure Stiles knew he was welcome than immediately.

By the time he'd made it downstairs, Stiles had all of his gaming equipment set up and Lydia was rearranging his few pieces of artwork – mostly given to him when he'd finished the house, and one terrifying piece that he'd been sent by Wednesday that he was almost certain was a close-up of wolfsbane reacting with werewolf blood but he hadn't been able to get a clear answer out of the woman. She was adding in Stiles' weird blue and black painting and the art piece his roommate at university had given to him that always reminded Derek of the constellation of moles on Stiles' back. His coffee table had been taken over by all of Stiles' knick-knacks.

"I still don't understand why you have two skulls," Kira said, picking up the one that looked like it had been taken from prehistoric man.

"Hey, Derek," Liam asked. "Where are we putting Stiles' desk?"

"Wherever Stiles wants it."

Stiles turned and look at him. "I'm not sure."

Derek didn't even need to use his werewolf hearing to pick up the lie.

"Dude," Danny said, walking through with another box of books. "That lie was weak."

Stiles flushed. "Danny, dude, you're not supposed to-"

"I already knew you were lying," Derek cut in. "So, just outline the very detailed plan you have for all of your stuff."

Stiles stared at him. "I don't want to."

"I will rip out your throat," Derek said, smiling at Stiles. "…with my teeth."

Stiles grinned at him brightly. "I don't want to push."

"Please," Derek said, rolling his eyes. "Pushing is what you do."

Stiles looked around the room and groaned. He walked over and grabbed Derek's hand and yanked him out of the room. "Come with me."

Derek followed Stiles upstairs and to his room. Stiles stopped in the middle of the room and turned around to stare at Derek.

"Stiles, I-"

"You came to my house this morning to talk to me about being…what are you doing?"

Derek just kept smiling at him. "You remember the morning after your twenty-first?"

"Yeah?"

"Your aunt came to see me here early that morning – when I came home to change before your dad took us out to breakfast."

"You never told me that."

Derek shrugged. "It was something that was kind of just between us and I figured I would tell you when I needed to."

Stiles frowned at him.

"Your aunt told me about your mum."

Stiles froze and looked at Derek with such wide, sad eyes that Derek rushed on.

Flashback

Derek drove up to his house to see someone sitting regally on the front porch. Derek walked over and Morticia stood up, waiting for him.

"Morticia," Derek said, looking around.

"I'm alone," she told him. "I came to speak to you about my Stiles."

"Would you like to come in, I can make you some coffee, or tea?"

"Tea," Morticia said.

Derek nodded. "Stiles always prefers tea."

"My brother Przemysław was quite a bit younger than me," Morticia said, following him into the house. "But I remember being young and sitting with he and Mamma drinking tea. When Claudia had Stiles I would sit with her, and Mamma, and little Stiles while we would sip tea. Stiles did always enjoy having tea with us."

"He still enjoys it," Derek said, flicking the kettle on. "I keep a heap of tea for him and Lydia."

She sat down at the table and stared at him as he went about preparing them both a cup of tea. He put everything down on the plaster and paint flecked table and tried to work out what to say to her. He and Morticia hadn't really spoken the night before – a few words right at the beginning of the evening and then they never seemed to come together again. If she was here then was obviously something she wanted to say to him.

"You're the stoic sort," Morticia said, sipping at her tea.

"Yes."

Morticia smiled at him. "My brother died a few years before Stiles was born. I still miss him."

"I understand."

"Then we lost Claudia to the same thing that took her father."

Derek froze. "He had frontotemporal dementia as well?"

Morticia nodded. "Yes, when Claudia was diagnosed she asked me to watch out for Stiles. She had always been terrified that she would lose herself the way that Przemysław did."

"Stiles told me that you and his father lost touch when his mother got sick."

"Claudia didn't want to suffer after watching her father but she also didn't want to leave Stiles or Sam. She loved that man so completely but he loved her the same. Even if we couldn't agree on how to help Claudia I always knew that he would die for her."

"Or kill for her," Derek said softly, remembering Wednesday's words.

"Either way, what bliss," Morticia said with a sad smile. "Death is not the end; it is merely the start of another journey."

"That's what I've heard."

"Do you love my Stiles?" Morticia asked.

"Yes."

"Will you love him forever?"

"Yes."

"Would you support him if he wanted to seek out the dark forces and join their hellish crusade?"

Derek shook his head. "I have not always been as supportive of Stiles as I should have been but I'm a werewolf, and Stiles is not the type to willingly seek out the dark forces."

"And if he were?"

"I would do everything in my power to help him and bring him back to us." Derek debated saying it but he couldn't stop it from coming out. "Just like last time."

Morticia nodded knowingly. "And would you bite him if he grew sick like his mother?"

Derek froze. "I can't bite him anymore. I'm not an alpha."

Morticia quirked an eyebrow at him.

"But, if he needed me to and Scott refused I'd find some alpha who deserves it and kill them so that I could bite him again."

"And if no such alpha could be found."

"I'd kill one anyway."

Morticia smiled. "I loved Claudia like she was my own. I kept tabs on Stiles even after Sam pulled him away from me. I knew about you, I knew about what Stiles was up to and I do not think his mother could have been prouder with how he has handled himself. She was always quite adept with magic like Mamma. And like Stiles' spark."

Derek frowned. "How were you able to keep track of him?"

"I had some friends in this town a long time ago and one is still around and keeps himself close to the darkness."

Derek frowned. "Wait, Grandmamma said Uncle Peter reminded her of someone. Has he been keeping you up to date on us?"

Morticia smiled gently at him but something with it sat…wrong with him. "Peter?"

"Peter."

"I thought his name was Thomas."

"No, Peter."

"Hmmm. But, no, I have not been talking to your uncle."

"Thomas?"

Morticia waved a hand. "Obviously someone else."

Derek wanted to ask more questions but he didn't think that he would get any answers and she was probably right – someone, a distant Hale relative, who looked like Peter made some sense.

"Then who?"

"I came to talk to you about Stiles. Claudia asked me to look after him – to watch over him. She knew, as I do, that when we love we love with all of the lightness and darkness of the universe and we often only love the once."

"I'm not the first person Stiles has been in love with," Derek said, trying to keep the irrational hatred of all of them out of his voice.

Morticia smiled. "Truly?"

"He was in love with Lydia."

Morticia laughed. "Nothing more than the fleeting crush of a boy – when he truly got to know her he realised he loved her as a friend and a kindred spirit."

"It doesn't matter," Derek said firmly. "They don't matter anymore."

"And yet your blood boils with jealousy and wishes to rend your enemies limb from limb to place your claim upon my grand-nephew."

Derek flushed, feeling like she had looking into his darkest thoughts, and he wanted to deny them. Yet, Morticia reached over the table and grasped his hand.

"Derek, I feel such joy for Stiles knowing that you love him with such fierceness," she smiled. "It makes me think of the early years with Gomez, before Wednesday, when we would submerge ourselves in the dark and we loved like no other before us."

Derek frowned at her. "I'm not a beast; the darkness of my soul shouldn't touch Stiles."

"Stiles' soul has its own darkness," Morticia told him. "As do we all, Addams, Krolak, and Hale alike. Let him bask in your darkness as you would demand he share his with you."

"I don't want…"

"My Pubert is different to our other children." Morticia said, seeming to change the topic. "When he was very young Fester married a woman and left our home, left the family. Pubert took it terribly and it changed him. He never truly recovered and as much as he is an Addams I think he needs a little time being just Bert."

"Fester came back though?" Derek asked, assuming she had a point – Stiles always seemed to when he went off on strange tangents.

"Yes, but Pubert never truly got over it. Debbie, Fester's first wife, married him for his money hoping to kill him before the end of their honeymoon. She was quite a notorious serial killer."

Derek wasn't sure what to make of that information, so casually shared.

"We Addamses are a resilient family and Fester proved much harder to kill than she thought."

"You are," Derek confirmed. "I'm constantly thankful that Stiles is so resilient."

"He would need to be to run with werewolves."

Derek nodded.

"In the end Debbie tried to kill us all."

Derek froze, muscles tense and his blood cold in his veins.

"Pubert saved us all and Debbie died. It was a shame, so much potential."

"How long...how long did it take for you to forgive Fester?"

Morticia quirked an eyebrow and looked at him intently, almost invasively. "No time at all. Her actions were not his fault. All he could accept blame for was believing in love and that he was worthy of being loved."

Derek blinked at her.

"Stiles always spent more time with Wednesday than anyone else in our family, but he had a soft spot for Pubert, a few years younger than him and so eager to be included."

"I don't understand."

"You don't want to bare yourself to Stiles in case he runs away. You don't want to burden him with the darkness that Kate left on your soul, and you don't want to hurt him. If you don't do the first two the third will surely happen."

"You seem to know a lot about this."

Morticia smiled. "I would not be an Addams, I would not be the aunt I am, if I did not know as much as possible about the man my Stiles wished to be with. And you remind me of someone I knew a long time ago."

"And you think, as an aunt who loves Stiles so much, that I should let him see my darkness."

"Oh, Derek," Morticia said, with a small chuckle. "He already knows your darkness. Now you just need to let him in."

Derek nodded slowly, mulling her words over.

"Now, I should let you get ready. You are already going to be late for breakfast with Sam and Stiles."

Derek nodded again, still a little too overwhelmed for words, and stood to walk her out. Then he went upstairs and showered quickly – not sure what to make of the conversation he'd just had with Stiles' aunt.

End Flashback

"So, my aunt came here to tell you, you should let me in."

"I think more to tell me that I shouldn't underestimate you."

"I should never be underestimated," Stiles said.

"When I kissed you at your party I knew that you'd end up rearranging my life to make room for you."

"That doesn't seem like it's a positive thing."

"It's been everything I wanted. And this morning wasn't about me re-thinking you being here. It was about me making sure you understood that I was really asking you when I was trying to ask you to move in with me. When I asked you I knew it was what I wanted – you are what I want."

"Oh," Stiles said, sitting down on the bed. "That's the sweetest thing."

Derek shrugged. "So, can we go downstairs and you can lay out all of your plans for my house and how you're going to make it ours and then we can argue over some of the ideas until you win and we end up doing what you want anyway?"

Stiles smiled. "I don't have to get my own way."

"Could've fooled me."

Stiles stood up and wrapped his arms around Derek's middle. "I love you, Derek."

"I love you too."

"I know," Stiles said, kissing Derek's nose. "You invited me and my cat to come and live with you."

"Rogue already lives with me."

"I know, I'm still a little crushed that she likes you better than me."

"She doesn't."

Stiles frowned. "Where is she?"

"The downstairs bathroom," Derek said. "She would have just gotten in the way."

"So you locked her in the bathroom?"

"I put her in there with all of the toys and the underfloor heating on. She is purring very happily."

"You're listening to her?"

"She's your cat – I can't very well not keep an ear on her."

Stiles grinned crookedly and then kissed Derek enthusiastically. "Our cat, you can adopt her."

Derek rolled his eyes but he was secretly rather pleased by it. "We can get her out if you like."

"No, you're right she's going to get in the way. Come on, I have the best idea about what to do in your office."

Derek nodded and followed Stiles down the stairs.

"Oh, and don't think I missed the sheets. You are getting so fracking lucky tonight."

Derek could hear Scott's groan and couldn't resist smiling. "We have to christen the whole house."

Stiles chuckled. "You're only saying that because they can hear us."

"Nope," Derek said. "It's our house now; we have to make the whole place smell like us."

"Through sex?"

Derek shrugged. "Seems like more fun than just sitting around."

Stiles shrugged. "Maybe."

"Come on, the sooner we get you unpacked, the sooner we can start making the place smell right."

"It smells wrong?"

Derek shrugged. "It smells like your room, and your dad – but not the way it's going to."

"The way it's going to."

"When the smell of your room and everything that lingers shifts to smelling of our house."

Stiles bounced down the rest of the stairs and started directing the pack in helping him rearrange things and unpacking. Derek argued some suggestions, but by the end of the day almost everything was unpacked and the house had been transformed. It was still a house for the pack – they each had a room they could claim for themselves, but it was Stiles and Derek's house and the worry from the night before seemed strange when Derek could see Stiles' movies mixed in with his, and his books on werewolf lore tucked in between Derek's.

Stiles had just called in an order with Dragon Express, the best Chinese place in town, when he sat down next to Derek holding the box from his aunt.

"Do you want to open it?" Stiles asked, putting the box on Derek's lap while he read the card.

"No, it's from you family."

"For now," Malia said. "We all know you're going to marry Stiles."

"Let me do things my way," Derek told her, flashing his eyes at her.

Malia shrugged. "You're going too slow."

"What?" Stiles asked. "We've been dating for less than a year."

"And you were lusting after him while I was still living in the woods," she said, rolling her eyes aggressively.

"Anyway," Stiles said. "Open it."

Derek nodded, flicking the sticky tape open with his claw. He opened the box and then frowned and turned to Stiles who was watching him with a quirked eyebrow.

"What?"

Derek shrugged and handed the box to Stiles.

"Oh my God!" Stiles squealed. "Cleopatra must have gone to seed."

"Cleopatra?" Lydia asked.

"Aunty Tish's Venus fly trap," Stiles said, pulling the plant from within the box. "I've always wanted one. I used to feed Cleopatra every time I went to stay with them."

"You feed a Venus fly trap as a child?" Lydia asked.

Stiles nodded, stroking the petals on the plant, and smiling at her.

"No wonder you took to all of this weird werewolf stuff so well," Kira said.

"You knew werewolves were real," Scott said, gaping at him. "Oh my God. You knew before I was bitten?"

"I didn't know anything – I suspected…and I might be related to a were-sheep."

Everyone gaped at him but Stiles just shrugged.

Finally he rolled his eyes and handed the plant to Derek. "Come on, Lydia is a banshee, Kira is a Kitsune, half of you are werewolves, it can't be that much of shock that I'm connected to everything really distantly."

"But you never told us."

"That my Grandmamma, who is admittedly a little odd, used to tell me stories about her uncle turning into a sheep in winter? Or that my aunt, who I hadn't seen in years, keeps a Venus fly trap and has an intense love of the occult, or that my cousin is a medical examiner with the driest wit known to man and used to like to dissect things with me when I was a kid. They are weird, they aren't supernatural."

Danny laughed. "Okay, so you have a weird family – whatever, do they keep any other weird plants and animals?"

"All of their plants and animals are weird," Stiles said.

"I liked Pugsley," Malia offered. "He's funny."

"Pugsley's funny?" Stiles asked.

Malia nodded.

"Okay," Stiles said and held out his hands to Derek. "Give me Viv."

"Viv?"

Derek asked.

"Vivian, the Venus fly trap."

Derek made a face at him but handed over Viv anyway and watched Stiles walk around the room trying out different locations for the plant. "Why don't you put her in the kitchen?"

Stiles turned and beamed at him before striding out and coming back empty-handed. "You were right, the window sill was perfect."

Derek smiled at him and pulled Stiles down into his side, arm thrown over his shoulder. He did want to kick the pack out, but he knew Stiles was enjoying having them all there. And, when they had all eaten, Stiles was the one to kick them all out of the house.

Derek slept that night with a cat on his feet, the man he loved curled into his side, and a Venus fly trap in his kitchen. It was the best night's sleep he'd had in over ten years.

The End