Storm- Stiles Stilinski

Chapter Thirty-Three

"Here try that."

Stiles had gotten us into Scott's house, apparently he had his own key cut. Of course he did. Now Stiles was rooting around in Scott's closet, throwing pieces of clothing at Malia to 'catch a scent'.

She held the sweatshirt up to her nose.

"Fabric softener." She stated causing Stiles to abandon the closet and head for Scott's laundry hamper.

He reached in and grabbed a pair of dirty boxers and held them up to us. Malia scrunched her nose up, eyeing the boxers warily.

"Remember Scott's life is on the line." Stiles pressed, dangling them infornt of her.

She was just about to reach out and grab them when I had an idea.

"Wait!" I exclaimed.

Turning on my heal, I grabbed his pillow and held it up to Malia's face. She took in a long deep breath through her nose and grinned triumphantly.

"Yeah, that works too." Stiles conceeded and Malia grinned at me.

She quickly took the pillowcase off the pillow and we hightailed it down the stairs, where we made a startling, yet not suprising, discovery. Liam was standing in the living room, his face fresh and earnest.

"God, Liam go home! You're not coming with us." Stiles deadpanned immediately, and we continued to walk, passing him.

"Why not?" He whined.

"Because, it's a full moon and I don't really feel like driving all the way down to Mexico, just to have you rip my throat out." Stiles told him, pausing by the front door. Malia grimaced, on the words full moon.

"You can lock me up right? Chain me down to the back seat?" Liam suggested desperately. We exchanged looks.

"You tore through the last chains remember?" I reminded him softly, trying not to hurt his wee feelings.

"Yeah, we would literally have to freeze you in carbonite to get you down there." Stiles stated, his voice dripping in sarcasm.

"Okay, then where do we get carbonite?" Liam said quickly, his face lighting up.

There was a long pause where Stiles looked like he was contemplating violence.

"Seriously. You haven't seen it either." Stiles deadpanned.

He turned to go again, we couldn't waste anymore time talking about going when we really needed to start going.

"Wait!" Laim called out, moving so that he was blocking the front door.

"What if we put me in the trunk?" He suggested frantically. Stiles sighed.

""You'd get out of that too." Malia responded.

"Liam, you've been a werewolf all of five minutes, you don't have to do this." Stiles said, softening his tone.

"I know I don't, but I want to." Liam replied, his voice sad.

"There's got to be bigger chains, a bigger trunk, something!" Liam started desperately naming things again and I let out a deep breath through my lips.

"There has to be!" He cried.

I wasn't sure how to tell him there wasn't, so I looked at Stiles but Stiles had a different look on his face. The kind he got when he was dreaming up a plan.

"Maybe there is."

~~~

"How did you get a prison transport van?"