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Published:
2012-07-01
Completed:
2012-07-01
Words:
2,680
Chapters:
2/2
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The Babysitter’s Club for Unmanageable Monsters

Summary:

Danny is running mostly off caffeine and wishful thinking at this point. He honestly wishes there was another person Jackson respected anywhere on the planet, but he’s pretty much it. Allison is already asleep on the table. Stiles has had so much Mountain Dew, he’s practically shaking. The meeting of Team Manage a Bunch of Fucking Idiots is off to its usual excellent start.

Notes:

Beta by Omens and Laraneia. This is mostly dialogue!

ETA: Thank you so much for all of your comments! If I miss anyone, I am really sorry, but I do appreciate them very much.

(See the end of the work for other works inspired by this one.)

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

Today’s topic is low blood sugar. It was a unanimous vote since apparently Jackson doesn’t feel he needs to eat, but as soon as he gets cranky, his scales come out. Next the werewolves are freaking out and, augh, no good can come of that. Stiles had to spend twenty-five goddamn minutes convincing three strangers on the street that Jackson was going to be in a horror movie and was trying out the make-up. They were incredibly lucky that two of them were high.

They stay on topic for approximately two minutes before Stiles is suggesting a Buffy marathon and Danny is countering with Supernatural, for obvious reasons. This leads to a very heated argument about whether Jensen Ackles is hotter than Jared Padalecki. Allison wakes up from ‘resting her eyes’ half-way through to mumble, “their dad was hottest,” and immediately falling back asleep

“There is so much wrong with her saying that. Starting with her own dad,” Stiles says, and gets back to the topic at hand. “Do you think the Winchesters are fucking?”

“That always made me uncomfortable,” Danny admits. “But then it was like Dean was fucking an angel? I couldn’t decide if that was worse.”

“If werewolves are real, do you think demons are real?”

They look at each other and Danny says, “No,” firmly. “I don’t think there are demons.”

“I have salt and holy water in my room,” Stiles confesses.

“Me too,” Danny says. They both look awkward. “Just in case.”

“Catholic churches creep me out.”

“I’m pretty sure the priests aren’t going to jump you, Stiles.”

“I look very young,” Stiles insists. “You never know. It could invalidate the holy water if they touch my thigh. Anyway, I might have just meant that I was creeped out by the fucking giant gory statue on the altar.”

“You’ve seen actual dead bodies.”

“Don’t remind me,” Stiles says, scrunching up his face in a futile effort to stave off the images. “I’ve seen enough that I get to have an opinion about which one was grossest. I’m still leaning towards the one that I helped to kill.” The people at the next table all turn to look at them, visibly alarmed. “Clearly I am now speaking of a video game. A video game in which I kill people because that is what you do in video games.”

“Video games should all be banned,” Danny adds. The people get up and leave the cafe. “That went well I think.”

“Anything that doesn’t end in death or an arrest record is a positive,” Stiles agrees.

“They’re probably not going to call 911,” Danny says. “We look harmless.”

“You have dimples,” Stiles says and it gets Danny laughing. “That’s our ace in the hole.”

“Okay, we’re way off track,” he says. “Should we wake Allison up to actually have this meeting?”

“I think she needs her sleep,” Stiles says, poking lightly at her shoulder. “It must be exhausting to keep up with a werewolf boyfriend only to go home to a mother who is pure evil.”

“Do you think I can borrow her mother to scare some sense into Jackson?” Danny asks, without much hope.

“I think she would make a pair of nice shoes and a belt out of him,” Stiles says.

“They would be really nice shoes though,” Allison says, into the table.

“I don’t doubt that,” Stiles says quickly, appeasingly. “If she ever asks, tell her I completely believe she is capable of anything. Never mention me otherwise.”

“Maybe we should watch Buffy and Supernatural,” Danny says. “We’ll skip the episode about werewolves because it made me cry even before I knew about Scott.”

“We could watch the X-files?” Allison suggests as she sits up and stretches.

“I can’t handle aliens or sexual tension with redheads right now,” Stiles says. “Pass.”

“Oh, speaking of sexual tension,” Danny says. “I’m pretty sure Matt knows. He was strongly hinting to me that the JJ Abrams photography effect was inexplicable. That, or he’s going to recite an episode of The Outer Limits to me.”

“If he does it in bed, would you care?”

“Probably not,” Danny says, “but he’s still stalking Allison. So that’s my pass.”

“I think half of this town has a stalker,” Allison says. “The other half is doing the stalking. It makes sense.”

“I don’t have a stalker,” Danny says. “And I’m not stalking anyone.”

“I hate to break it to you, Danny,” Allison says, “but you’re basically stalking Jackson now. Even if it’s your job, it counts.”

“Yep,” Stiles agrees. Confirmed.

“Jackson is stalking himself!” Danny says. “Or at least stalking anywhere with a full length mirror.”

“Which is funny since his lizard side hates mirrors,” Stiles says as he sips his second coffee.

“Jackson is made of irony; we all agree,” Allison says, before trying to get back on topic. “Can we move on to the actual discussion portion of this evening?”

“I wouldn’t say it’s irony exactly..,” Stiles trails off to hover over his coffee cup protectively, so Allison can’t stick a crossbow bolt in it.

“We’re not having the irony argument,” Danny says. “I don’t want to be here for the next two days while this gets increasingly violent.”

“Allison would win,” Stiles says. “She’s definitely the most violent.”

“Thank you,” Allison replies. She smiles with all her dimples flashing.

“God,” Stiles says, disgustedly. “I think we should change the name of our club to Cutest Motherfuckers Ever.”

“I’ll second that,” Danny says. “Motion carried.”

“Do we need to make a new glitter sign?” Allison asks.

“Nah, that was a lot of work,” Stiles says. “I had glitter all over me for weeks. Scott was taunting me.”

“It is the herpes of the craft table,” Danny says.

“I think you’re going to get kicked out of the gay man elite for saying that.”

“I’ll just take off my shirt and get back in,” Danny says confidently.

Stiles lifts up his own shirt and looks at his abs. “I don’t like this contest.”

“If you guys feel you need to take off your shirts to bond, I can handle it,” Allison says. “I’m very tough.”

“We’re getting way off topic,” Danny says. “Again.”

“Was the topic which stupid fake supernatural show should we watch?” Allison asks.

“I think the topic was whether we can kill all of our friends and move somewhere else,” Stiles says, narrowing his eyes and looking out the cafe window.

“That was last week. We all voted yes,” Danny reminds them.

Stiles says, “I think Derek is in the parking lot.”

They all turn to look and Derek is there, standing in front of the door and looking at them. He’s not trying to come in, just blocking the door and glaring. It’s nothing new.

Danny says, “Let’s watch Angel.”

“Your stalker,” Allison says, nudging Stiles with a boot. “You get rid of him.”

“The meeting is continuing,” Stiles says. “If he wants to be a creeper, that’s his problem. Next up: I think we should all take yoga.”

“I could be up for that,” Danny says as he glances through their vague list of things to do in the future. “Wait, does rewatching Thor count as supernatural research?”

“Yes,” Stiles and Allison say together.

“It’s on this list five times?” Danny asks. “It should probably be on there more than that.”

“I think we need to take a break to look at pictures of Chris Hemsworth,” Stiles says. Meetings are hard work. “That should only take a half hour or so.”

Derek walks into the cafe at that statement to loom over their table.

“Nope,” Allison says, throwing up a hand in Derek’s direction without looking up from her phone. “Chris Hemsworth picture time is a very important time for us. Get out.”

“Unless you want to take your shirt off,” Danny says, and he does look up from his phone. “I choose shirtless hot guys in person over ones in pictures.”

“Screw it, I’m going to go look at Tom Hiddleston,” Stiles says.

“Betrayer!” Allison curses.

“Loki was misunderstood!” Stiles argues back.

“Please, Derek,” Danny says. “Take off your fucking shirt. I can’t take another round of this.”

“I think you guys should take yoga,” Derek says, looking at Stiles intently.

“Loki just needed a hug to stop being such a jerk,” Stiles says, automatically continuing in his defense before asking, “Wait, what did you just say, Derek?”

“I think you should take yoga,” Derek says again, still looming. “I’d watch.”

Stiles, Danny, and Allison stare at one another for a minute. The three of them in yoga poses with the werewolves lined up against the wall in sports chairs, just watching. They shudder in unison.

“Vetoed!” Stiles declares. “So much vetoed!”

“Seconded,” Allison says. “I say we all move we all move to England and get new names. Can you do that, Danny?”

“I already did,” Danny admits. His hacking career is completely in the past. “I had a panic attack one night and stayed up until six in the morning setting them up.”

“Did you give us all drag queen names?” Stiles asks.

“No,” Danny says. “Dammit.”

“Is sharing panic attacks something we should high five for?”

“Not with our lifestyle choices,” Allison says, and they all sigh loudly.

Derek gets a chair and sits down at the table. They all ignore him with the ease that comes from endless practice. He comes to all of their meetings. No one has ever invited him.

“Next up,” Danny says, crossing yoga off of the list. “What to put in our emergency bags.”

They all put their extra bags on the table with loud clunks. They all pretend Allison’s doesn’t clunk the most.

“I think we need tranquilizer darts,” Stiles starts. He’s not afraid to beg. “I want them so bad. Allison. Get them for me.”

“I want a new crossbow,” Allison says. “This one has a funny catch.”

Danny says, “I want to know why Jackson craves seafood all the time. He’s a fucking lizard! Shouldn’t he be eating bugs?”

“Would you prefer bugs?” Stiles asks. “I think the tuna thing is better, personally. Scott eats raw bunnies.”

“You swore you wouldn’t bring that up,” Allison says. “You swore.”

“He probably brushes his teeth before he puts his tongue in your mouth,” Stiles says, reassuringly. Derek kind of smiles; Stiles tries not to cheer.

“Back on topic,” Danny says. “Which originally was low blood sugar in supernatural creatures and the avoidance thereof.”

“Right,” Allison says.

“I’ve been slipping food into their backpacks,” Stiles says. “I think it’s helping. I’m pretty sure Scott assumes there’s a beef jerky fairy.”

“I’m pretty sure Scott thinks that you’re his real mother,” Danny snipes. “He might be right.”

“Hey, that’s not nice,” Stiles says. “Melissa is awesome. She’s only tried to hit me with a baseball bat once!”

“Practically a real life miracle,” Allison agrees.

Stiles says, “Hey!” but not with much feeling. He did ram a car she was in, even if he was trying to save her life.

Derek pulls out three velvet dice bags out of his pocket and hands them out. Allison starts to open the drawstring on hers, but Stiles smacks her hand and says, “Nope. Put it in your First Aid kit and let it go.”

“What is it?” she asks, looking between Derek and Stiles.

“Robbed a drug dealer,” Derek says.

“Is that a joke?” Danny asks, towards Stiles.

“No joke,” Stiles says apologetically. “We need better painkillers.”

“I hope you wore a mask,” Allison says. “And gloves.”

Derek nods. “Stiles planned it.”

“My father was just hit with an overwhelming sense of pride,” Stiles says dryly.

Allison’s watch goes off and Danny says, “Is it time for your babysitting session with Scott?”

“It’s a date!” Allison says. “Admittedly, one where we have to sneak around so that my grandpa doesn’t knife him again, but still: it’s a date!”

“You should send his mom a bill,” Stiles says, ignoring her. He’s had way less Scott babysitting to do since Allison moved to town.

“Derek,” Allison says. “Stiles likes it that you stalk him. He loves it. He told me.”

“I don’t stalk Stiles,” Derek says, apparently unbothered by the rest of the table staring at him in disbelief.

“Okay,” Stiles says. “Well, I hate it anyway; she’s lying. You’re a giant creeper and you know it.”

“Yeah,” Allison says, getting up and shouldering her emergency bag. “And on that note, I’m leaving.”

“I’ll take him on as a stalkee if you want,” Danny offers after they all say goodbye to Allison.

“Nope,” Stiles says. “I need him for reasons.”

“I see through your reasons,” Danny says. “You’re very shallow.”

“I’m not stalking Stiles,” Derek says again. “He just happens to be nearby a lot because he’s always with Scott.”

Stiles considers this and says, “So that makes me Scott’s stalker, with a side of Derek stalking? Then, of course, Erica is also stalking Scott, and I’m stalking Lydia?”

“Derek is full of shit, he looks shifty,” Danny says. They both look at Derek who shrugs. Danny rolls his eyes and gathers up his stuff. “Just have sex with him, Stiles. For the good of us all. Lick his abs for me, because someone should.”

“Bye, Danny,” Stiles says, resigning himself to one-on-one stalker/stalkee time.

They’re quiet for a minute, until Derek says, “I don’t really like it when people lick my abs.”

“Thank you for sharing that,” Stiles says once he’s done choking on the last of his coffee. “I take very careful notes regarding your sexual preferences in my book of Things About Derek Hale.”

“Is that sarcasm or do you have a book?” Derek asks. Stiles shifts around in his seat. He clears his throat. Looks at the ceiling. It’s definitely both and Derek probably knows it.

Chapter 2: Fake Chapter Two/Epilogue

Summary:

Danny can calm even the most terrible of evils.

Chapter Text

The next day at school Stiles has to tell Danny and Allison that they can’t go back to the cafe anymore. It’s probably time to shake things up, anyway.

“We got kicked out,” Stiles says. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“What happened?” Allison asks. “Is that a hickey?”

Stiles says, “No? It was an accident with a vacuum cleaner.”

“Did you have sex with Derek?” Danny demands. “Was it everything I dreamed?”

Stiles gives Danny a look. Danny shrugs.

“But why did you get kicked out of the cafe?” Allison asks.

“I might have climbed in his lap and given him a lapdance,” Stiles explains. “I had a lot of caffeine that day. I’m under a lot of stress.”

“Did he put any money in your underwear?” Allison asks, laughing.

“I’m not sure,” Stiles admits. “We couldn’t find my underwear after. I think he ripped them off.”

“You had sex with Derek,” Danny confirms. Stiles holds up two fingers.

“Fuck this. I’m going to go tell Jackson he’s my type because I’m not going to be the only person not banging someone with superpowers.”

Stiles yells, “HEY, ISAAC; GET OVER HERE.”

“What do you want?”

“I think you’d feel a lot better if you rode his dick for awhile,” Stiles says. “You should give it a try.”

Allison falls against her locker laughing. Isaac looks back at Erica who says, “YES.”

“I think I prefer my dick unbroken,” Danny says. “Thanks anyway.”

“What do you think Jackson would do to it?” Stiles says. “Of course, he could just paralyze you first. Also, he has a tail...”

“I threw up in my mouth. I have to go,” Danny says. “Away.” He runs off.

“Alright, Isaac, go back to your murder buddy,” Stiles orders.

“You smell like Derek,” Isaac says flatly. “Derek and sex.”

“Yes, and I’ll let you figure out why all on your own,” Stiles says. “By the way, I think I’m your new mother.”

Scott’s “WHAT THE FUCK,” echoes from all the way down the hall.

 


“And that is the story of how Scott joined Derek’s pack
and Stiles saved the werewolves,” says Danny to Allison’s mother
as they bake cookies while Jackson hides terrified in the corner.