Nefarious Means Possible

Nefarious Means Possible-Part IV (a)

Nefarious Means Possible—Part IV (a)

A/N!!!! SEE LOWER RIGHT CORNER--I DO NOT OWN THIS AWESOME ART!!! and i haven't asked for permission, so if the artists asks to have it taken down. Down it shall come!!!

Stiles stretched and yawned blearily rubbing sleep from his eyes, "Is it just me, or was that flight just plain exhausting?!" he asked sleepily nuzzling Derek.

Laura snorted, "It's not just you", she promised, "I can't feel my left butt cheek", she huffed rubbing the sore spot.

Derek scowled at everyone, particularly the children, not that any of them could blame him, the baby crying for six hours consistently was enough to put Laura off of having children for centuries, and that was too small a start.

Cora had almost clawed the kid's mother for being so utterly incompetent at trying to shut her baby up. And Peter—God don't let her get started on Peter—despite having Rock music turned on loud enough to make the passenger beside him go deaf, through his headphones, he could still hear the baby screech pitifully.

Even now, waiting for their baggage to arrive at the baggage carousel, the incompetent—bats for brain—mother was jiggling her baby up and down, but the baby seemed to screech even louder.

"OKAY!!! THAT'S IT!!!!!"

Stiles yelled loud enough, everyone—except the baby, went mute.

Stiles stomped over to the woman, grabbed her baby, and many people moved at once, maybe to stop him from killing the Noise Pollution machine.

"Listen", he covered the baby's ears, "Bitch", he cursed the bewildered woman, ignoring several kids snickering, "Clearly you're not cut out to be a mother, or any nurturer at all, for one thing if someone takes your kid, you fight back, incompetent Fu-Moron", he tempered the words just a second before he spoke, as his eyes slid to two toddlers staring at him. "Secondly, you idiot", he continued, "You're hurting him", he looked down then, and huffed pulling the blanket back, "Well it's definitely a him, Thank God", he muttered before shaking his head.

Laura watched kind of stupefied.

Stiles unbuttoned the long coat he'd been wearing, and slipped out of the garment, gracefully, carefully shifting the baby.

"Oh My, he's gorgeous!!!!"

Several girls tittered as he stripped a few boys seemed to agree, but Laura's attention was mostly focused on Stiles as he stripped out of his shirt, the clothes dropping from his lax hand, to his baggage trolley.

"He's cold, and you haven't really grasped that he's ears would hurt on a plane. As adults it leaves us uncomfortable at altitude checks", he left the blanket with his clothes, but kept his grey tank on. Settling the kid on the makeshift blanket nest he'd created, "Babies are sensitive", he lectured easily as if he'd spent years rearing kids.

Several mothers and fathers, and other adults nodded.

Stiles rubbed both his hands together, "When you're cold, the most important thing you wanna heat is your extremities", he informed and gently cupped the now clad in a—believe it or not—shorts and t-shirt (which Stiles had already taken off), Baby's ears.

The baby gurgled as if shocked.

"There we go little guy, that feel better?" he whispered softly, kneeling beside him, he repeated the process a few times, before picking up the whimpering now—Thank God—baby, and began walking around, voice soothingly soft, as he settled the baby to his skin, between his shoulder and neck, the baby's head settled and he continued speaking;