Stiles had planned such a nice pack dinner; making sure that whatever allergies people had were accounted for-Mason had a love/hate thing with celery, Lydia wasn’t overly fond of strawberries-had a perfect seating system setup, and even made sure that everyone was invited at the same time, so there would be no claims of favoritism.
His dad and Melissa were going to show up later that evening, having their own ‘little party’ that Stiles really didn’t need to know any details of, and had told him not to wait up for them.
It stood to reason that he would be sitting down to dessert about now, happily full from the delicious dinner he just finished, waiting for the parent figures for the whole group to join them, surrounded by the people he loved and cared for.
That, however, was not to be.
Stiles is currently in the bathroom of his house, staring at his reflection in the mirror and trying to figure out where he went wrong in his life that there is a group of people downstairs screaming at each other at the top of their lungs.
It had started off as such a nice evening too…
Stiles and Derek had greeted Scott at six, Dinah running down the stairs as soon as she heard Artemis’ voice, the girls squealing blocking out any type of conversation that the adults tried to make.
After they had been herded off into Dinah’s room to play, Derek had played host to Scott and Kira, making them laugh at the tizzy that Stiles had thrown himself into cooking dinner and ribbing Stiles when they heard he had chased Derek out of the kitchen when his boyfriend had tried to help.
The next people to arrive were Lydia and Jackson, tugging their son Jason behind them like a rather morose little tugboat, Lydia making a backhanded compliment about dealing with children as they all took their snow wear off.
Stiles really should have prepared for the worst then and there.
He hadn’t thought of tying down the hatches because Derek had been such a good host, making Lydia smile with his joke about dealing with Stiles and Dinah while telling her that Allison and Isaac sent their love from Paris, having a little bonding moment with Jason when the boy showed him his Batman action figure(courtesy of Stiles) and telling him about Erica-who was in Rome with Boyd-loving to pretend to be Catwoman.
He even managed to deal with Jackson’s attitude by showing him where the wine was being kept.
As a matter of fact, by the time Mason and Liam had arrived, both a little windswept in the way that said more of trailing fingers than of actual wind, Stiles was congratulating himself on a job well done.
It wasn’t until dinner was on the table that he realized that he had maybe started the celebration too soon…
All the kids were seated at the kiddie table and the adults were sitting peaceably at the grown-up table, the food was being served and it wasn’t until the cranberry sauce was going around the table that there was a problem.
Surprisingly, considering how Jackson and Lydia were still making digs at each other, the problem came from the kid’s table and whatever it was had caused Dinah to lob a handful of loaded mashed potatoes at Jason’s face.
It had all went downhill from there.
Lydia had used the moment to imply that Jackson’s parenting skills were to blame, Jackson had immediately threatened a lawsuit and Derek had starting arguing that Dinah wouldn’t throw food at someone unless they deserved it.
Jackson had set the whole house of cards tumbling by scoffing, “What do you know, Hale? You aren’t her father.”
That had made it real ugly, real fast and Stiles couldn’t stand the fact that his perfectly planned evening had deteriorated so horribly, so he retreated to the bathroom to avoid letting the lot of them know exactly what he thought of them.
It had finally quieted down since he had come up here, so he took a chance and headed down the stairs again.
The dining room was empty with the dishes still sitting on the table and everyone but the Martins and his family were the living room-Scott giving him an apologetic wince when he looked in-but he heard soft voices coming from the kitchen and decided to go investigate.
"You know you shouldn’t throw food at people, don’t you?”
"I know, I’m sorry."
Derek was standing at the sink, cleaning Dinah’s hands off as she sits on the edge with a gentleness that makes a lump grow in Stiles’ throat as he watches them.
"Sorry you threw the food, or sorry you got caught?"
Dinah takes a moment to think about that one before she proves she is Stiles’ daughter through and through by stating, “Sorry I got caught.”
Derek fights to keep his grin in check as he spots Stiles standing in the doorway. “Why don’t you see if Artemis and her mommy and daddy want to watch something? I need to talk to your daddy.”
Dinah looks worried for a second before she’s lunging at Derek, wrapping her little arms as far around him as they could go and mumbling, “I don’t care what meanie Jackson says; you are my daddy too!”
Derek looks a little shell-shocked, but he hugs Dinah back before setting her on the ground so she can scamper into the living room, Stiles moving around her as she goes.
There’s a moment of silence before Derek says, “That could have gone better.”
Stiles sighs heavily, leaning his hip against the countertop. “Remind me why I thought it was a good idea to invite Jackson?”
"Because Lydia has been your best friend since high school and she’s married to the asshole?"
Stiles winces at the hostility in Derek’s tone, immediately reaching out his hands for his boyfriend. “Derek, about what Jackson said-“
"Don’t, Stiles." Derek cuts him off, but takes the hands stretched out to him. "He already ruined dinner, don’t let him ruin the rest of the night."
Stiles wants to argue, wants to insist that Dinah isn’t the only one that thinks of Derek as Daddy Number Two, but Derek looks so tired right now that he swallows what he wants to say and gives him a smile instead. "Come on, let’s go make sure that Scott isn’t filling Dinah up with sweets while we aren’t looking."
Derek returns the smile as well, wrapping an arm around Stiles’ shoulder as they join their daughter in the living room, letting the angry voices from earlier disappear behind the laughter and smiles that greet them.