WEREWOLVES
Title: Skip That Lipstick (don't explain)
Author: Me
Rating: PG, for language?
Genre and/or Pairing: lady!Derek/lady!Stiles
Spoilers: all aired episodes
Warnings: stereotyping based on sexuality, stupid use of fireworks
Word Count: ~1500
Disclaimer: The characters and events depicted in these stories are fictional. Any similarity to any actual person, living or dead, or to any actual events, firms and institutions and other entities is coincidental and unintentional. All characters used are the legal property of their respective creators and/or owners and their constituents.
Notes: Uuuuuuuuh. This is really the first fic I ever finished. Unbeta'd. Please inform me of mistakes, I'm sure there are some. I'm not sure why there's so much Xena: Warrior Princess in this. I just want Scott to be a better friend to Stiles, really.
Summary: Stiles is a pretty butch girl.
Ewelina “Stiles” Stilinski’s life has gone super downhill, and Darla Hale being all dark and mysterious all the time is not helpful.
Okay, so she’s not worried about being murdered anymore. Well, she’s not worried about being murdered by the alpha, or possibly accidentally by Scott. And maybe sometimes she’s a little bit worried about Darla murdering her, but really Stiles was going to saw through Darla’s friggin’ arm so it would be totally unfair if she got eaten by that particular werewolf. Wait. This was supposed to be a good point, but instead it’s just reminded her that the best parts of her life are the parts where she PROBABLY won’t be murdered by her best friend, or a giant monster wolf douche, or Peter Hale. PROBABLY. The rest of her life seems to be going that way too. That way being mostly awful.
She’s basically lost her best friend. Which okay, Stiles could understand why maybe starting for the lacrosse team and making out with your girlfriend could be considered cooler than marathoning Perfect Dark and mainlining Cheetos and soda. She had a soft spot for Cheetos, but honestly she would have chosen making out too. It was just. Being unatheletic and socially awkward was what had brought them together in the first place. And it didn’t quite seem right that they no longer did these things. Well, Stiles still did them, but Scott had mostly managed to stop. He could still be socially awkward.
She’d just thought that once Scott wasn’t trying to kill her once a month (which honestly, fair, she wanted to kill everyone once a month too) that maybe they could hang out again. That hasn’t happened though, so that’s another point in the con column of Stiles’ life.
Lydia? Still straight.
The point is that Stiles’ life is a big suck of crap, and she can not deal with Darla Hale being a major hottie in addition to everything else awful in her life.
Darla looks freaking gorgeous, like freaking Lucy Lawless as Xena. Actually come to think of it, that comparison is genius. Stiles is proud of herself for thinking it. She’s pretty awesome at analogies, e.g. Scott is Batman, Stiles is Barbara Gordon (Oracle or Batgirl, she doesn’t care, they both rock), Darla is probably Catwoman, and seriously Stiles tried really hard to think of an appropriate lady who hadn’t slept with Batman, but all the ladies love Batman, hell, Stiles would seep with Batman, which, really, means that no way Scott is Batman. Actually Scott would probably be a decent Dick, but then there’s that sleeping together thing again. Wait wait. That’s not the point. The point is that this other analogy is perfect; she’ll totally tell Scott later, they’ll high five, it’ll be great.
The thing about Darla being Xena is that every Xena needs a Gabrielle. For instance, Allison’s crazy aunt? Totally looked like a Gabrielle. Like, some sort of crazy, evil Gabrielle. Lydia, glorious human being that she was, could so have been a Gabrielle. A devious conniving Gabrielle.
Stiles is no Gabrielle. Stiles is what one might call super butch. She has a buzz cut. She dresses like a dude, a lot of button downs, a lot of plaid. She’s not trying to be a stereotype or anything. The stereotype just happens to fit comfortably. She looks and acts like a dude. She gets a lot of girls looking at her with an expression she interprets as, “I’d never do a girl, but I’d probably make out with Stiles if I were drunk.” (This is a not an uncommon occurrence, and Stiles totally does not have the shame to stop her from enjoying it.) She jokingly asks Danny if gay dudes are attracted to her. She’s never gotten an answer, but she suspects it’s along the lines of, yes, if you weren’t so friggin’ irritating.
~~~~~~
Stiles and Scott are laying around Scott’s living room enjoying summer break, watching Live Free or Die Hard (because she is a Bruce Willis junky.) It’s a reminder that the 4th of July is in like a week, and she hasn’t set-up any plans. She’s never had to bother before, her and Scott have done the same thing for the last four years. Watch Team America, grill hot dogs, eat watermelon. But her life, much like Jon McClane’s, was recently hijacked by extenuating circumstances. She’ll have to actually check.
“So we’re doing the usual for the 4th , right? ” Presumably Allison would be there too, but at far as Stiles was concerned that just meant someone else could bring the potato salad (...or whatever.) Anyway Stiles really liked Allison when she wasn‘t eating Scott‘s face.
“Sounds good. But I was thinking we could make it a pack event. Have it at Darla’s?”
“Well. I’m pro-pack event, I guess. But there’s no way that she’s recently purchased a TV and/or DVD player for us to watch Team America on, and you know how I feel about a 4th of July with no Team America.”
“But that’s just it. I was telling Allison about what we usually do, and it turns out she’s never lived somewhere fireworks aren’t allowed. And I thought maybe, we could go to Seaside to pick some up. I figured if we shoot them off at Darla’s place, no one would care?”
“Oh. Well. Yeah, actually that sounds pretty cool.”
And it does sound cool. It’s actually just one more reason for Stiles to lament not being into Scott, because apparently Scott is a champion boyfriend. Also if she were into Scott, she wouldn’t have a pathetic crush on Darla who will, presumably, be around if they go to set fires at her house.
~~~~
So far the party is actually going really well. They’ve finished eating, but it hasn’t gotten dark yet so they’re all screwing around trying to kill time. Her and Scott already had a smoke bomb fight. She’d even managed to convinced Lydia to help her after Allison teamed up with Scott. Stiles’ current goal is to get a piggy back ride from everyone. So far she’s gotten one from Scott, Allison, and Danny. She’s working on Jackson now.
“No. Trust me. This is the best idea ever.”
“Yeah, right up there with stab myself in the eye.”
“No seriously. You can cop a feel, and tell everybody you had a lesbian riding you all night.”
“Okay, first off, I’m offended that you think I’d need to ‘cop a feel’, second-”
Before Jackson can finish his tirade which is probably about how gross the idea of boning Stiles is, Allison interrupts.
“Stiles, you’re a lesbian?”
Stiles has to stare open mouthed at Allison here. She can only assume everyone else is too.
“Uh… Obviously?”
“How is it obvious? It’s not like you go around objectifying women constantly.”
Here Lydia snorts because she’s a jerk sometimes.
“Well, besides the hair and all the flannel?” Stiles is really at a loss here. She’s never had this problem before.
“Those are stereotypes! People don’t have to conform to what society expects of them based on their gender or sexuality.”
“Well, uh. Thanks, I guess? It’s kind of flattering that huge dyke isn’t your first thought.”
And it is kind of flattering. It’s also wrong, and the whole thing make Stiles feel painfully awkward.
She tugs a little bit a her shirt. It’s short sleeved, button down, collared, vertical red and white stripes. It’s not a girly shirt.
Suddenly someone else’s hand is on her shoulder. It’s incredibly startling, and she shrieks a little bit. The shriek seems to jar everyone out of the trance of uncomfortable silence which she’s grateful for. It’s Darla looking as inscrutable as ever.
“Did you still want a ride?”
Stiles can only think dirty thoughts for about half a second, and she blushes furiously when she realizes she’s talking about piggy backs. “I don’t know, what with you being the tall, dark, and mysterious supernatural creature, and me being the single sheriff’s daughter, it might not be a good idea.”
Darla continues staring blankly.
“Okay, yes, totally, but if you call me spider monkey, I will fall off in protest.”
“Alright. But you have to do something for me.”
“As long as I don’t have to chop off anyone’s arms.”
Darla smiles at that, at least Stiles thinks it’s a smile. It’s very enigmatic.
~~~~
“Scott, do you think I could be a Gabrielle?”
“A… Gabrielle?”
“You know, from Xena!”
“I don’t really know? I never watched the show or anything.”
“Uh. Well. Could you google this one for me?”
“You are needy in the strangest ways.”
“Pfft, I’m not the needy one here.”
“Well, according to google you’re going to have to stop wearing a real shirt, you only get a bra. Which I can’t say I’m against…”
“Scott!”
“Ow, geez! That was unnecessary, don’t be such a girl.”
“…”
“Okay! Wikipedia says ‘she displays a remarkable ability to talk her way out of fearsome or difficult situations: she talks a cyclops out of eating her, and makes an ally of him.’ A ‘Battling Bard.’ Yeah, that sounds like you to me.”
“Oh. Um. Thanks.”
“No prob, bro. You should totally pass the Cheetos though”