Work Text:
It’s a beautiful day. The sun is out, big and bold, with not a cloud in the sky. The air is warm but not humid; spring ending and summer so close you can practically smell the smoke from the 4th of July fireworks and taste the cool ice cream on your tongue. Stiles’ mind drifts for a beat, loving the idea of them having this conversation in the conservatory in the gorgeous afternoon.
Satomi sits her tea cup and saucer gently on the tray atop the coffee table with a soft clatter, knocking Stiles out of his whimsy thoughts. “I understand your hesitation, Alpha Hale,” she says, deep eyes flicking to Stiles’ swollen belly.
“Do you,” Derek asks, lifting a thick, dark eyebrow at her. He’s sitting ramrod straight, arms crossed over his chest, scowling. Stiles can feel the tension radiating off him. He tries to ignores it while spreading raspberry jam onto the biscuits he made.
Yet, Satomi remains ever so calm and reserved. Stiles thinks she must have been a beauty long ago. Her face is so open and warm when she smiles. It still astounds him sometimes how a woman that looks like such a grandmother is also one of the most deadly people he’s ever met.
“I feel as though if you truly understood, you’d have never asked for this meeting, knowing my mate is expecting,” Derek continues. He finally unfolds his canon-sized arms to tenderly caress Stiles’ stomach. At that moment, “Little Derek” takes it upon himself to kick at the palm of his daddy’s hand.
“I asked for us to meet because my pack is outnumbered and outgunned, so to speak. Because without your help we don’t think we can defeat Alpha Roberts and his pack.”
Derek’s arms return to being folded, and his face persists on being stern. “There’d be nothing to defeat had the both of you signed the treaty drawn up by my banshee.”
“That treaty was unbalanced and favored a resolution I couldn’t abide by,” Satomi tells them, her tone taking a sharp edge for the first time since she arrived.
“Clearly you thought so,” Derek says.
Stiles chimes in: “The treaty was fair, Alpha Ito. More than fair. To you and Alpha Roberts. I’m sorry you didn’t see it that way. But Alpha Roberts was more than happy to sign it. You were the resistance.”
“That amulet in Alpha Roberts’ possession has previously been in my family for centuries. Until it was stolen, by Alpha Roberts’ great-grandfather--”
Stiles sits up with a groan. He’s at the tail end of his pregnancy so every move he makes radiates through his back and his giant feet. “I thought your great-great aunt had given it to him as a gift.”
Satomi leans forward, voice stronger and more serious now. “Upon her deathbed while she was delusional and confused. She was not of sound mind when she had presented it to her late husband.”
“But she did give it to him,” Derek reiterates. “It was a gift from a loving wife to a devoted husband. She was dying and wanted him to have the thing that she valued most, to remember her by. I don’t mean to be rude, Alpha Ito, but you’ve never been married.” Satomi stiffens. “Within a marriage it’s understood that what is possessed by one party is shared with the other.”
“What’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine,” Stiles clarifies. “Deaton, as a neutral party, has already spoken to your great-great aunt’s mental state at the time. He didn’t see any fault in her giving the amulet away.”
She leans toward them, the lines on her face hard and staunch. “That amulet contains an ancient power that could be used for the greater good, or for pure evil.”
“And you think Alpha Roberts is the type of man to use such a power to do bad,” Stiles asks. He couldn’t picture it. Alpha Roberts was a somewhat mild and meek man, like a middle school science teacher. He wore khakis and Oxford shifts with insulated shoes. He was a turned wolf made Alpha by accident 10 years ago, and despite it, he still managed to act like the same boring man he was before he was bitten. He even continued to wear his eyeglasses, regardless of no longer needing them. Stiles knew there was no way Alpha Roberts could be corrupted by evil.
“I don’t know what kind of man Alpha Roberts is on the inside, but I don’t trust anyone with the amulet that is not a direct descendant of my bloodline.”
“Alpha Roberts is a descendant of your family,” Derek reminds her.
“I said ‘direct’, Alpha Hale. Gerry Roberts is a stranger as far as I’m concerned.”
“Gerry? His name is ‘Gerry’,” Stiles exclaims.
Without missing a beat, Derek leans in toward Stiles and gives him a quick kiss. “Stay focused, baby.”
But ‘Gerry’??? If he weren’t already the most milquetoast man in NorCal…
“Regardless of the semantics of who has the right to own the amulet, Alpha Ito, this pack war is wholly unnecessary in our eyes. Especially now. I have other priorities that need my undivided attention. Fighting a childish, violent pack war is not one of them. I will not leave my mate without a husband, my unborn child without a father, and my pack without an Alpha.”
“Nor are we eager to sacrifice members of our pack for your war,” Stiles adds, stuffing his face with vanilla waffers now.
“My war,” Satomi asks dubiously.
Derek chuckles wryly. “You’re the one that initially declined to sign the treaty and uphold peace. You then declared war against Alpha Roberts after two of your betas were killed attempting to burglarize his den. This is your war. And we can not in good conscience join you or anyone else in this ridiculous fight.”
Satomi’s eyebrows lift in surprise. “Did Alpha Roberts call on you, too?”
Mouth full of food, Stiles quickly swallows to speak. “We’re giving you the same answer we gave him.”
“I can’t help but to think it’s more than the possibility of you leaving your child fatherless that influences your answer, Alphas.”
“Something you want to say, Satomi,” Derek snarls.
Satomi brought her second-in-command and another beta with her. Stiles sees them turn ridged, hands flexing, itching to snap out their claws at their Alpha being disrespected. Satomi holds up a hand, telling them to relax. They fall back a few steps, limbs loose but eyes right on Derek.
“I think you’re declining to fight alongside me because I refused your call with the Alpha pack,” she says plainly.
“Admittedly, yes. But it’s not the sole reason, or even the seventh reason I’m telling you-- and Gerry-- ‘no’. My family, my pack, will always come first.”
It’s Satomi’s turn to chuckle dryly. “And now I hope you see why I had to say ‘no’ to you as well.” Satomi stands. Derek follows, reaching out a hand for Stiles to grip as he pulls his weight out of the chair. “I hope you come away from this believing our conversation to been...civil.”
“I do,” Derek extends his hand. Satomi takes it; they shake.
“I as well.”
Derek and Stiles escort her and her betas to the door. Passing through the living room, Boyd, Erica, and Isaac jump at attention. Stiles waves them off. Formalities don’t seem necessary with them already at the front door.
Derek opens the door. The two betas exit first. Satomi hangs in the doorway with Derek and Stiles. “I believe you both to be honest men. Good alphas. But if I should find that you assisted Alpha Roberts in any way during this war, I will not hesitate to show you just how disappointed I am.” Her eyes burn red at her threat.
Derek’s eyes turn as well, boring into the old woman, threatening him on the steps of his den. “You’re right, we are honest...and not easily threatened.”
She smiles wickedly. “I know.” Her irises shift back to their normal brown color. She turns to Stiles with her face sweet and proud. “I look forward to the birth of your little one. I’ll be sure to stop by with a gift once he’s born.”
And with that, Satomi is helped into a car by her waiting betas. Derek’s eyes are still crimson as he watches her car pull off down the street.
“That little, old lady is terrifying,” Stiles states.
“We’re scarier.”
“Damn right we are.”
Derek’s attention finally leaves the disappearing car to peer at his husband with a grin.
“Damn,” Stiles says softly, licking his lips. Derek’s “Alpha eyes” will always do it for him. Add that to his already raging hormones and the scent coming off him could choke a thousand wolves.
Derek’s grin becomes a little more sly. He smells him.
“Send the betas on an errand,” Stiles demands.
“Out.”
Takes but a millisecond for Boyd, Erica, and Isaac to hurry out the front door, not wanting to be privy to their Alphas impending carnal desires.
Derek takes Stiles’ hand, drawing him into the house, and slams the door shut behind him.