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Little Red

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"What is she doing?" Stiles asks Isaac in the kitchen. Peter, Derek, and Brent were working on the grill. The pack was due any minute to come to their cookout. Isaac and Derek's biological daughter, Pepper was hugging he father's leg while he patted her on her strawbeery blonde locks. He was beckoning there other child over to give him a hug.  She shied away and was making a irritated and moping face.

"I don't know. She looks like she's... brooding," Isaac infers. He takes a sip of tea and looks closer from the window. He was certain that's what she was doing. He loved the little girl a little more with the fact that her and Derek could pass for biological father and daughter. The thing that gave her away - her dark red hair. 

They adopted her after an agent saved her in her native country of Russia. They brought her to Beacon Hills in an attempt to lead a normal life. So far, so good.

"No, she isn't brooding. She's like, what, 5? Five years old can't brood," Stiles said before pausing. "Or can they?" he chuckled.

"Stop that," Isaac said sternly. He would have wacked him on the back of his head, but Stiles was five months along with his and Peter's next child. He knew that Peter would have his head if he lays a careless finger on him. "This is a new enviroment. The adoption agency said this could happen."

"Okay. I think we should go outside and ask what's bothering her?" Stiles suggested. Isaac nodded and helped him off the chait he placed next to the window. He put a steady hand on his back and lead him outside. Natasha was sitting on a tree stump and had her chin in her hands. He eyes were raised in a scowl and her hair was swooped back. They were in short ringlets that Lydia helped Derek with (for a brooding Alpha, Derek knows how a girl should wear her hair.) Stiles lead the way and Isaac was right behind him.

"Hello, sweetie," Stiles greets the little redhead.

"Hi, Uncle Stiles," she responds, not turning around or changing facial expressions at all.

"What's wrong, Little Red?" Isaac asks, sitting down in the grass and pulling Natasha into his lap. Stiles pulled the cushion from the tire swing and sat it on the stump so he could lean on the tree comfortably that was behind him.

"Something's off, daddy," she says, her face scrunching up unattractively. She looked upset.

"Then what is it?" Stiles presses furher.

"Are you wolves?" she asked abruptly. Isaac froze and Stiles tilted his head.

"Why would you ask that?" Derek says, as he, Brent, Pepper, and Peter walk up.

"Well, you, Daddy, and Uncle Peter leave us once a month when the full moon comes. You always hear what we do and know what is going on be for Pepper I try anything. You even can smell when we're sad," Natasha says, crossing her arms.

"Nattie, that's really specific. How do you notice all of this?" Peter asks.

"Uncle Peter, I was born in Russia, the home of the KGB. You either pay attention to your surroundings or you get corrupted," she replies.

Peter shot up from where he's kneeling by the young girl. "Good to know," he says, a look of horror and respect plastered on his face. He turned to Derek and whispered, "If only the Betas would remember that, we'd be in business." Derek would chuckle at Peter's facial expression if he wasn't wearing the same one.

"Well, we are baby doll. Papa, Uncle Peter, Uncle Jackson and Danny, Uncle Scott, and Uncle Boyd and Aunt Erica are all wolves," Isaac confirmed.

"I knew!" the little girl screeched, jumping up from her father's lap. "Now that is cleared up, anyone want to play some soccer?" 

"You're on! I call first kick," Pepper challenged, racing the kid to the back of the house where John had pulled around to.

The others sat in an uncomfortable silence before Brent said something.

"Welp, you're screwed," the 5 year old said before he whistles innocently, shoves his hands in his pocket and walks away.

Another silence fell over the group.

"Stiles, you're right. He definitely takes after me more."