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English
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Published:
2013-01-10
Updated:
2013-01-10
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1,364
Chapters:
1/?
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11
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101
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How hard can it be, really?

Summary:

All Stiles wanted to do was to make sure his father was eating right. Then there was the dog. And it was so cute in all it's ginormous awkwardness. And those big beautiful blue eyes. And Stiles had never had a dog before. How hard could this be, really. Well when your new dog was actually a trapped werewolf, things got a little out of hand. Really who knew?

Notes:

Second post ever! This one came along at 3 o'clock at night when I couldn't sleep. Again I am no english major. I'm just doing this for fun. Hope you like it. I really need to get someone to edit these for me......

Chapter Text

Stepping through the door to the Sherif's department, Stiles swiped his hand over his head, water droplets spread in all directions from his cropped hair. “Woah! That rain is coming down! Cats and dogs Mary, I’m telling ya!”

“Did you come all the way here in this weather just to give your father his lunch?” The older woman smiled at Stiles. “Don’t see that too often any more. He raised you right.”

“Well if he would watch what he ate, I wouldn’t have to! He in his office?” Stiles held up the generic brown bag of lunch full of delicious healthy goodness if he did say so himself. And he did. Often.

“He just got done with talking to Mrs. Flanagan. Head on back.” Mary smiled at him, old amber eyes crinkling with humor.

“Thanks.” Stiles saluted her and made his way to his father’s office. He waved to various officers along the way, all greeting him in different ways.

He had known these people for years, twenty-three to be exact, and that one guy still creeped him out. Stiles swears there is something wrong with his eyes or something. He just looks wrong. And what was with the uni-brow? Had he never heard of a razor?

“Oh. Right. Lunch. Da-woah!” Stiles raised his hand to his father as he walked out of his office but was stopped dead in his tracks when he passed the holding cells. “What the hell is that?!”

“That. Is a very huge dog.” Mr. Stilinski crossed his arms over his chest, the two of them looking at the massive dog lying in the corner of one of the cells.

“That is not a dog. That is a beast! He’s huge! I mean come on! Look at those paws! He’s gotta be taller then me on his hind legs! Why the hell is he in a holding cell? He try to mug someone? Wouldn’t put it past him. Gotta get that kibble and bits fix. He’s massive. I would give up my wallet to that dog. Beast. Thing. How ya doing Dad?”

Mr. Stilinski just shook his head. “I still can’t follow your mind. Anyway, Animal Control found him limping by the highway just out of town. Deaton is out of town so they tried to bring him to the kennel but all of the animals just went crazy; they wouldn’t stop freaking out. Didn’t help that they didn’t have a kennel that would hold him comfortably, so we’re keeping him here until they can contact his owner.”

“Wow.” Stiles was stuck looking at the dog. He was massive, just as he said. Sleek black fur covered him from head to toe. Paw. Head to paw. His eyes were a striking almost electric shade of blue, and they were staring right at him. “Hey buddy.” Stiles bent down to be closer to the animal. It wasn’t hard even with the dog lying on it’s stomach. “Where are your owners?”

There was a huff from the dog, the air passed through his massive body and came out sounding like a complaint. Stiles smiled and looked back to his father. “Did he have any tags on him? And you said he was limping. Did they fix him at least before they ‘put him behind bars’.”

“He’s been here for awhile. He wasn’t limping any more after a day but when we checked the tags he had on him, the house was abandoned. The place was burnt down twelve years ago.” The Sharif shifted on his hip.

There was a quit whimper coming from the cell. The dog had shuffled himself around and hid his muzzle under his paws.

“So he doesn’t have a home?” Stiles felt sorry for the poor thing.

“No. The shelter doesn’t have very high hopes about him either. If someone doesn’t come and claim him by the end of the week, they will have to put him down.”

“What? But he’s not a bad dog is he? He can’t have been missing too long. Why so soon? Someone has to want him!” Stiles sounded scandalized by this news.

“He’s an amazing dog. He doesn’t bark, he doesn’t snap. He even keeps some of the drunks we get in line. But he’s a massive dog and families don’t want huge animals. They want something they can grow up with. Something young. If a family member doesn’t come to get him…. They have no room and we can’t keep him here forever.”

“Oh Dad! He’s too pretty to die!” His voice had the hint of a joke to it but he seriously meant what he said.

888888888888

Stiles continued to come back to the department. “Hey Mary! My dad still here?”

“Right out back sweetie.” Mary pointed to the training yard.

“Thank you kindly Miss Mary!” Stiles said with a twang, tipping an imaginary cowboy hat, and passed to the back door that led to the yard. He threw the door open and was promptly plowed over by a huge wall of fur. “Holy crap! Come on Derek! Get off!” Stiles complained. If he was like a normal dog and just liked to lick people’s faces until they drowned, Stiles could have dealt with that. But Derek was an over protective, dominating dog that just sat on people. Or really, he only ever sat on one person; in this case that one lucky person happened to be Stiles.

“He must really like you. Or really hate you. I can’t tell yet.” Mr. Stilinski smiled down at his son on the ground. “Come on Derek, let him up.”

Derek never listened to anyone really, but he looked up at the older man like he might consider the possibility. He lowered his head, flattening his entire body to Stiles’ torso, black muzzle firmly planted into the side of the boy’s neck.

“I take that as a ‘no’. Come on, boy. I need to talk to my dad and I really don’t want to do it from the ground.” Stiles tried to move the dog off of him but received a growl for his trouble. “Dad. Little help here?”

“Oh no. I’m not breaking up that love affair.” His father raised his hands up in defiance.

“He’s freaking heavy! And there is something stabbing into my back! What is that a stone? Branch? Tic Tac?” He tried to shift around to get the feeling away but got another growl for his efforts. “Hey! You are the one using me as a bed. If you would get up, you wouldn’t have to deal with me moving around!”

When he was finally able to wrestle Derek into a sitting position, Stiles looked up at his father. “I take it there still aren't any takers.”

“No.” Was the Sharif’s simple reply. Derek whined and finally got off of Stiles, choosing to circle the yard. “And he knows something is up. He’s a smart dog.”

Stiles got up from his seat on the ground brushing off the grass that clung to his jeans. “Can’t you keep him here? He can be the new k-9 unit.”

“No one can take care of him. A dog that big, it takes a lot of time and effort. And like I said, everyone wants a young one.” Mr. Stilinski crossed his arms and watch as Derek went from one corner of the yard to the other.

“I’ll take him.”

“What?”

“I’ll take him. We have a pretty big back yard and I can’t stand the fact that he’s just gonna get put down. And if someone finally comes looking for him, I’ll give him back.” Stiles nodded to the large dog. Derek had stopped in his pacing and stared straight at him. Cocking his head to the side, he walked straight up to Stiles and sat next to him. Derek looked between the two expectantly.

“And when were you going to ask me, it's my house too you know. Stiles. I told you, he’s going to be a lot to handle. You’ve never had a dog before.” His father tied to warn.

Stiles reached down to pet Derek on the head. “I'll deal with everything. How bad can he be?”