1. | INDIGO [S. STILINSKI]

chapter twenty-three: [clubbing]

"I don't know." Scott shrugged.

    "Maybe it's like- and either/ or thing." I shrugged. Both of them looked to me crazily.

"Derek said a snake can't be poisoned by its own venom. Well, when's the kanima not the kanima?" I nodded. Stiles understood, sighing.

       "When it's Jackson."

I nodded and looked to the line again, before a hand hit me. I furrowed my eyebrows and turned around, seeing Stiles gazing up as his hands reached out to me and Scott.

    "What?"

"Look." He pointed up. Me and Scott backed up, seeing a whipped tail sneak through a window, inside.

    "It's going inside." Scott huffed.

"What's he gonna do in there?" Stiles threw his hands spastically, aggravated.

   "I know what he's after." Scott's eyes widened.

"What? What, how? Did you smell something?" Stiles asked quickly.

Scott nodded. "Armani."

    We all looked where Scott was looking, to the club line and found Danny handing over an I.D.

"Danny."

     "We have to get in, he can't just kill Danny." I hurried, looking for a different way. Stiles found one, heading for a side door. He wiggled the knob, groaning when it didn't budge.

   "Alright, maybe there's like a, uh, window we can climb in or- some kind of. . ."

Scott interrupted him by snapping off the handle and handing it to Stiles, who nodded.

"Or a- handle that we could rip off with supernatural strength. How'd I not think of that one?"

    We walked in, lights flashing, music filling the entire room loudly. The entire building filled with guys dancing, some dress wildly in dresses and wigs, some not dressed hardly as they danced on stages.

   "Dude, everyone in here's a dude!" Scott tried to yell over the music. I nodded and looked to Stiles, but he wasn't next to me anymore. I spun my head around to see an un-amused Stiles being pet by some men dressed as women. "I think we're in a gay club!"

   "Man, nothing get's past those keen werewolf senses, huh, Scott?" Stiles yelled back as one hand began trailing up and down his face, over his buzzed hair. I laughed and walked over, taking one of his hands and gently releasing him from them.

   "Take care of that one, honey." One yelled to me through purple lipstick. "He's a nice lookin' one."

"I'll be sure to." I giggled, pulling Stiles to Scott who was walking towards the bar. Stiles shook his head and when he reached the bar, leaned against it.

   "Three beers, please." He yelled over the music, confident. The bartender gave us all a look.

"I.D.'s?" He asked. I shrugged, having nothing, obviously. If only I had one, to see something about me.