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3x01: Girl with the Werewolf Ink

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Girl with the Werewolf Tattoo by Mononokedays

Her Tumblr | Art #2 for this fic

Episode #301
"Girl with the Werewolf Ink"




It had been four months since Stiles scored the winning goals while Lydia cheered him on, Jackson died on the lacrosse field, and Allison tried to kill everyone and then broke up with Scott. Oh, and Stiles was tortured along with Erica and Boyd in the Argent basement. Fun times. Except Lydia was still hung up on Jackson, the power of their true love transformed Jackson, Allison and her dad are possibly not evil now (?), Gerard was poisoned by mountain aaassssh and vomited a geyser of black goo everywhere.


Students pour into the school entrance as A SCHOOL BELL RINGS.

All in all, Stiles is pretty okay with how things are. He can even be magnanimously happy that Isaac didn't end up sawed in half by crazy hunters, best friend stealer that he is.

Isaac is leaning next to Scott's locker, stealing glances from under his curly mop. Stiles doesn't understand how someone who looms taller than them can give the impression of an adorable little puppy. He should probably take notes, for future who-me-I-didn't-do-anything purposes.

"Hi Scott," Isaac says, sounding shy. "Hi Stiles."

"Yo," Stiles says.

Scott, not immune to puppy adorableness, smiles goofily. "Hey Isaac." He looks halfway besotted and Stiles just wants to shake him until something clicks into place in his head.

Isaac tilts his head in the direction of the first period class. "Did you do the reading? Derek was intense at training yesterday and I just crashed afterward."

"Don't worry, if we sit in the first row, Mr. Curtis won't call on us," Scott says earnestly.

Stiles rolls his eyes. Of course Scott hasn't done his reading either. Although at least he's not failing this class.

Grabbing their textbook from their lockers, they head into—


First period English. Scott and Isaac sit in the first row, and Stiles takes the desk behind Scott. Mr. Curtis walks in with A NEW STUDENT.

Mr. Curtis waits for the class to look up. "Class, this is our new student Hayden Park. Please make her feel welcome."

Stiles looks at HAYDEN PARK, mouth falling slightly open. She has one of those ageless faces where she can look fresh-faced one moment and mature the next. She's not in the same scale of hotness as Lydia or Derek, but there's something about her knowing smirk that Stiles finds attractive.

Hayden's gaze rakes over the three boys, lingering a few seconds over Isaac. She heads for an empty desk in the middle of the room.

As she walks past him, Stiles notices a tattoo on the back of her right shoulder, visible through her deconstructed T-shirt. Turning around, he manages to catch a better look at it. It's a tattoo of a TRIBAL WEREWOLF.

Hayden reaches the empty desk and puts down her messenger bag. "This seat not taken?" she asks, sounding flirtatious.

Lydia, sitting at the next desk, doesn't look impressed. "No, it's not," she says with fake cheerfulness.



Silence. Then the doors of the cafeteria push open. Stiles walks in backward, facing both Isaac and Scott. The cacophony of high school lunch period rises to a CRESCENDO. Stiles raises his voice a little to compensate.

"Dude, we need to get you a cell phone," Stiles says to Isaac. "If you're going to violate the beautiful brotp that is Scott and me," he says, gesturing at Scott and himself, "the very least you can do is make your presence beneficial to me."

The past few hours, he has been frantically texting Scott about the possibility of Hayden being a werewolf from the alpha pack. Predictably, Scott has texted back, "i dun kno. maybe?"

Isaac mumbles something about his foster parents, his allowance and lack thereof.

"What? Derek can't spare the dough for his baby beta?" Stiles snarks. "Why don't you work for Deaton? The amount of time you hang out at the clinic, Deaton should start paying you an hourly wage."

Isaac shrugs uncomfortably. He mostly visits the clinic during Scott's work hours, and Stiles is well aware of that.

The implication of course goes over Scott's head. He grins at Isaac and slaps his shoulder companionably. "That's a great idea! I sure need help dealing with the crankier cats."

Isaac smiles back.

Stiles looks up from loading food onto his lunch tray. "Scott, the cats get crankier ever since you get all fang-y," he points out.


"So I don't think Isaac being there is going to—you know what, never mind," he drops his tray on the nearest open table. "That's not the point of this conversation. The point is the alpha pack supposedly has been here for months, we've seen neither head nor tail from them, and now on the first day of school, a new girl shows up with a wolf tattoo?" He leans forward and opens his eyes wide at them. "Uncle Stiles doesn't believe in coincidence."

"That's three points..." Scott says.

"Can you not call yourself Uncle Stiles?" Isaac looks uncomfortable. "I'm having unpleasant flashbacks associated with that word."

"Isaac, no offense, but noone at this table wants to hear about creeper Peter and his creeper ways," Stiles says heartlessly.

Scott pats Isaac's shoulder sympathetically.

"Scott, I'm glad you're listening, but I'll be happier if you listen to the content of what I'm saying." Stiles stabs the air with a soggy fry. "I mean, isn't that what you guys do? Sniff out whether they're were or not, friend or foe? So, is she or isn't she?"

Scott shrugs.

Isaac rubs the back of his neck. "I smelled hairspray and some citrus-y detergent, but other than that, nothing. It's not like I took a long whiff when she walked past my table."

Stiles sighs. "Of course it couldn't be that easy. Well you're not as useless as Scott, at least."

"Hey!" Scott exclaims.

"Suck it up, Scott. You never use your wolfy senses when the occasion calls for it."

Isaac sits up suddenly. "Is that—?"

Stiles and Scott turn around in the direction of Isaac's gaze.

Hayden just walked in, talking to a NEW GUY.

"Huh, whaddyaknow. Another new student," Stiles remarks.

Scott and Isaac have looks of concentration on their faces, which Stiles assume to be them listening in to the conversation between the two new students. Scott TUNES in the conversation across the room, VOICES coming into focus.

"You're enjoying this too much," the new guy says to Hayden.

"Why did you say that?"

"You ripped apart a perfectly good T-shirt just to sew them back together, gouged holes in a new pair of jeans, and put neon colors in your hair."

"I thought about holding everything together with safety pins, but I didn't want to set off any metal detector," Hayden says with a grin.

The new guy scoffs.

"Lighten up, Ethan," Hayden slings an arm around ETHAN's shoulders. "We're back in eight torturous hours a day of high school. I should at least have some fun dressing the part."

"Punk is so eighties," Ethan says with a frown.

"Retro is in," Hayden insists. "Aren't you bored dressing like a stick-in-the-mud, brother mine?"

Just then, someone dropped coins on the floor. Scott hears each one PLINK against the tile. He blinks and his hearing returns to normal. He turns back to face Stiles, who looks ready to explode from curiosity.

"So?" Stiles asks excitedly. "What were Hayden and the Matt Damon lookalike talking about?"

"Matt Damon?"

"Jason Bourne," Isaac chimes in.

"Oh." Scott nods.

Stiles makes a well, go on gesture.

"They were talking" Scott scrunches up his nose. "And that guy's her brother. His name is Ethan."

Stiles looks at him in disbelief. "Fashion," he says flatly. "They're standing around at the back of the cafeteria talking about fashion. Are you sure it's not code for something?" He wonders what is even his life that he's half-desperate for fashion talk to be supernatural code.

"Unless 'safety pin,' 'punk' and 'retro' are code words, I don't think so?" Scott says, looking half-skeptical and half-confused. He somehow makes the expression work.

"Hayden said she's having fun 'dressing the part'," Isaac adds.

"A clue!" Stiles exclaims, voice several decibels too loud. The people at the next table turn around and look at him. He looks sheepish and crams a fry into his mouth.

When the conversation around them picks up again, Stiles leans forward and says, "Pack meeting. Right after school."







Stiles' hair was not the only thing that grew over the summer. In between snarky remarks and threats of physical violence, Derek and Stiles’ relationship—if you can call the snark and occasional mutual life-saving a relationship—had grown. Stiles swore there were a few times there when he and Derek were on the verge of having a moment. (Which apparently was a signal for a certain undead uncle to interrupt with comments about life choices and baby mates, but whatever.) The point being, Stiles and Derek had progressed enough in whatever-this-is-between-them for Stiles to plague Derek with hourly texts like a stalker girlfriend boyfriend friend ally, and for Derek to reply using more than two words.



Standing near the doors, Stiles pulls out his cell phone and looks at the DISPLAY.

Me: New girl possibly a werewolf.
Sent: 9:55AM
Me: Do alphas have a specific smell?
Sent: 11:06AM
Me: Or can they mask their smell with special alpha magic?
Sent: 11:07AM
I'm the alpha NAOW >=[ : Stiles. What.
Sent: 12:12PM
Me: Gonna do recon on this new pair of students. The sister has a tribal wolf tat and dresses like it’s 1995. SUSPICIOUS.
Sent: 12:36PM
I'm the alpha NAOW >=[ : ...In case your insane idea has merit, bring Scott or Isaac with you.
Sent: 12:44PM

Grinning, Stiles shoots back a text, "Way ahead of you."

Scott and Isaac walk over to where Stiles stands.

"I still think you're overreacting," Scott says. "Normal people get wolf tattoos all the time."

"Hey, evil Matt the kanima master: did I or did I not call it?" Stiles replies. "I have good people instincts, man."

Scott looks skeptical but is willing to humor Stiles. "I can't anyway; I have lacrosse practice, and then work at the clinic. With Jackson leaving, I need to show coach I'm serious about being captain."

Stiles doesn't hiss in annoyance, but it's a close thing.

"I can skip practice and tail Ethan," Isaac volunteers.

"Thank you!" Stiles says empathically. "Which leaves tailing Hayden to me. I'll ask Derek for back-up." He lifts the hand holding his phone.

Scott's face does this scrunchy, half-sad half-disapproving thing. He doesn't voice any objection though, because Stiles has driven home to him the importance of cooperating with Derek.

"You need to play nice with Derek, what with the alpha pack and everything." Stiles had said. "As touched as I am to be part of your pack, you heard what Derek said—an alpha needs three betas to have a stable pack. If we count Derek's undead uncle, that still leaves one slot for you. I'd rather Derek not go around turning more of our classmates, thank you."

Scott has agreed and that is that.



A black Camaro is parked next to one of the gas pumps. Technically, Derek could get to anywhere in Beacon Hills by running, but he needed to keep up appearances—as much as someone squatting-slash-living in an abandoned loft could, anyway. More importantly, he needed to drive Laura’s car regularly to keep it in good condition.


Derek grabs bear claw and a bag of beef jerky, tossing them next to the red Gatorade he’s purchasing. The teenager working behind the counter is handing him his change when his cell phone BEEPS.

Stiles: Isaac's tailing Ethan, I’m following Hayden.
Sent: 3:45PM
Stiles: Followed her to Lydia's fav frozen yogurt place. How could she know that unless she has a nefarious nose??
Sent: 4:02PM
Me: Beacon Hills has ONE frozen yogurt place.
Sent: 4:04PM
Stiles: Lydia saw me.
Sent: 4:07PM
Stiles: She’s annoyed by Hayden and ignores my presence. Of course.
Sent: 4:08PM

Derek snorts and turns on the car engine. His cell phone beeps again.

Stiles: Cheesecake frozen yogurt sounds good?
Sent: 4:09PM

Not thinking too hard about why he's crashing a teenage hangout, Derek texts back, "On my way. Add cookie dough in mine." Somewhere, Peter is smirking loudly.


Cheerful POP MUSIC plays in the background. In a corner table, Stiles is holding up a store menu in front of his face. A smiling cartoon yeti in a purple scarf adorns the cover. He wishes he has werewolf hearing, because there's some intense face-off happening right now.

Two tables over, two girls sit facing each other…Lydia Martin and Hayden Park.

Hayden has her back turned toward Stiles. Lydia is wearing her flawless smile which nonetheless says "Fuck off." Stiles has to admire how Hayden remains unperturbed and leisurely eats her frozen yogurt. Lydia lifts her yogurt spoon and lets it dangle from her fingers, no doubt ready to deliver a scathing remark.

The bell over the store door JINGLES. Stiles glances over and Derek slides into the seat next to him.

At the other table, Lydia raises a judging eyebrow over Derek’s grumpy presence. She then clearly dismisses them and goes back to her frozen yogurt.

"Your frozen yogurt," Stiles says, pushing the single yogurt cup in front of Derek. "It's a little bit melted. I have them mix cookie dough and Oreos in, because who doesn't like Oreos, right—but if you don't want it I can eat this one and order another one—"

***** Scribbled in the margin: Maybe change Oreos into Reese's Pieces? *****

"It's fine," Derek says gruffly. Stiles kind of want to laugh at the ridiculousness of Derek—leather jacket and all—in a pastel-colored frozen yogurt store. With tiny pink spoons. He regrets not asking for gummy bears and rainbow sprinkles too.

Derek seems intent on demolishing his frozen deliciousness, one tiny spoon at a time. Stiles grabs an extra spoon and digs in, because there is no way he's going over to the counter and miss all the happenings—or, currently, not-happenings—two tables over. Plus, he's already running low on gas money.

Meanwhile, Hayden is saying something to Lydia. Derek's expression doesn't change, but Stiles has no doubt he's listening in. That seems like a handy skill for Scott to learn. Stiles has to subtract one hundred fifty stealth points for the leather jacket though.

"You're under this egregious assumption that stalking me would make me like you." Lydia flashes a perfect, fake smile. "It doesn't."

Hayden shrugs. "A girl can hope."

"I've done the whole befriending-the-new-girl-in-school before." Lydia makes a circle in the air with her spoon. "I don't care for a repeat."

"Oh, I wasn't looking to fill in the best friend spot." Hayden's grin can be heard in her voice. "I heard your boyfriend recently relocated to Boston?"

Derek scoops a cookie dough chunk on his (tiny) heap of frozen yogurt. Stiles has stolen most of the Oreo bits. "She wants to date Lydia," he says in a conversational tone.

And, because Stiles’ power of extrapolation can be uncannily accurate, he remarks, "She doesn't want to be Allison redux, she wants to be Jackson. If Jackson has boobs and is cool enough to pull off a tribal tattoo."

Derek can so pull off a tribal tattoo. His triskele is meant to be a reminder for him, not decoration. He can't help the boobs department, but he doesn't need werewolf senses to know that Stiles finds him attractive.

"She might just be someone who's interested in Lydia," Derek points out. Like you, he doesn't say.

"You don't believe that." Stiles slurps his spoonful of yogurt. "Peter…Jackson…Lydia has the worst record when it comes to supernatural encounters. Maybe they're like, attracted to her immunity or something."

"I don't date people who look like they're trying too hard," Lydia said in a crisp voice. "And you—" She pauses, looking Hayden’s ensemble up and down. "—are definitely trying too hard."

"Aww, you're going to hurt my feelings. This get-up looks great with the tattoo though, right?" Hayden runs a finger along her right shoulder.

Lydia sniffs, clearly unimpressed.

Derek listens to their conversation without consciously registering it. He TUNES in Hayden's presence, listening to her regular heartbeat and the susurrations of her voice.

She seems utterly normal, and yet.

"She doesn't smell like one of us," he informs Stiles, who has pulled the dish closer and is shamelessly scraping the bottom for sodden Oreo bits.

"I'm sensing a 'but' here."

Derek holds Stiles' gaze. "But she doesn't smell quite human either."




***** Someone had detached the remaining pages from the script and stapled a passage from a Stiles/Derek fanfiction instead. Let's not point fingers here It was probably Dylan. *****


Next on Teen Wolf:

What is it with Derek and older women?

Stiles knows he's not being fair. This alpha female was perhaps three or four years older than Derek, and she's probably not another psycho boy-eating predator like Kate Argent.

But hell if Stiles wants to play fair.

He and Derek have been dancing around this thing all summer, and Derek's going to throw it over for what? He wants to use wolfsbane mace on Peter's smug face because somehow someway this must be his fault.

"Calm down, Stiles," Derek says patiently.

He grasps Stiles by his shoulder and lift him off the floor. Like Stiles is a freaking four-year-old being unreasonable or something.

Teen Wolf this Monday on MTV at 10 p.m./9 p.m. central.