Author:
trysloraTitle: Daddy, Hide
Rating: G
Pairing/s: Derek/Stiles
Character/s: Derek, Stiles, OFC
Summary: Derek and Stiles play hide and seek with their toddler.
Warnings: fluffy fluff
Submission Type: Ficlet
Word Count: 848
Prompt: #61 - hira hira
Author's Notes: When I saw the prompt, all I could think about was a toddler running, her skirt fluttering around her legs. So you get this bit of fluff in response. I am trying to squeak this in under the wire and very late!
Anabella counts in her soft voice, a high-pitched wisp of a sound. Her eyes are closed and her words are slow and measured, careful with each number. She has only mastered the numbers past ten recently, and she smiles for every single one, pleased with herself. Derek can smell the pride in the sweetness of his daughter’s scent.
She interrupts herself between four and five, her nose wiggling before she says, “Daddy. Go hide.”
He’s proud of the fact that she can smell his presence. Even as a toddler, her senses are already sharp, in tune with her wolf. He doesn’t say a word, just takes a careful step away, his own pride rising when she waits until he is down the hall before she begins to count again.
Derek hunkers down behind the desk in Stiles’s office and he listens for Ana, waiting until he hears the fluttering of her skirt around her baby feet as she hurries towards him. Small claws tap along the floor, her feet bare, and she giggles, never faltering in her path towards his hiding place. When she pounces, he wraps his arms around her, pulling her in as he tickles her until she laughs delightedly.
“Found you, Daddy,” she chortles. “You’re easy to find.”
“And how did you do it?” he nudges her.
“You smell,” she says plainly.
“And Papa?”
“Doesn’t smell.” She sticks her lower lip out in a pout. “He’s hiding.”
“That is the name of the game, pup.” Derek has to laugh at the irritable look that she gives him, her brows drawn together in a frown. Everyone says how much they look alike, and he can see his expressions in her face. She is a tiny mirror, and he loves her for it. “Do you think we should hunt for him?”
“You’ll help?”
“Of course.” He rolls to his feet, offering her his hand until she grips two of his fingers. “Use your nose, Ana. You can find Papa with your nose.”
“He’s hiding.” She repeats the word like it’s significant, and Derek does know what she means. But he can smell the mask around the missing scent, accustomed to the sharp tang that he associates with illusion.
“Try again,” he murmurs. “Papa is nearby. What’s different?”
She stands there, nose lifted and flaring as she inhales roughly and exhales through her mouth, tasting the air. Her nose wrinkles. “It smells like thunderstorms. I don’t like lightning.”
Derek hasn’t thought of it that way before, but Ana is right. It’s the crisp scent of electricity in the air, subtle and quiet but there. He twists in space, and she follows him as he rotates, then she points. “There!” she says.
The hunt is on.
She pulls him forward, elated because she is going to be the one to find Papa. He can hear the rush of her heart, the loud pitter-pat. But beneath that, he hears the shuffle of feet, almost out of sync with the movement of air around them.
Derek steps sideways, letting Ana’s hand go as he enters the kitchen and blocks the door. There’s a low sound of irritation and someone unseen steps away. Ana reaches out, throws her arms around the air, holding on tight.
“Got you, Papa!” she chortles.
In a whisper of sound, Stiles is revealed. He sinks down, crouching at her height as she burrows into his arms, scent-marking his shoulder. “And how did you find me, baby girl?”
“You smell like thunderstorms. Daddy told me to sniff until I figured out what stink was you.” She draws back, looking at him seriously. “I don’t like it. Hide like Daddy does.”
“What, so you can find me?” Stiles ruffles her hair. “That would make it too easy.”
“Go get your pajamas on,” Derek says, and when Ana sighs and huffs, they band together and send her off to get ready for bed.
“Magic?” Derek says, one eyebrow lifting. “Every single time we play, and you use magic against our daughter?”
“And she found me this time,” Stiles points out. “I know you know how to do it, and I knew she’d learn. She’s never going to have to wonder how things work, Derek. She’s never going to feel lost. She’s amazing and strong already, and she’s going to be brilliant someday.”
“It’s a game, Stiles. Not a training exercise.”
“Why can’t it be both?” Stiles pushes to his feet and crowds in close, leaving Derek with an armful of his husband and only moments to kiss him before he knows Anabella will come padding back into the room and make faces at her fathers.
“We’ll never push her too hard,” Derek says. “I want her to have her childhood.”
“Always,” Stiles agrees. “And I want her to be safe.”
“Definitely.” That’s all Derek wants, too. He wants to remember what Ana’s first years are like, when she runs through the house in bare feet, her claws click-clacking on the hardwood floors, her skirt fluttering around her knees. He never wants to lose his family again.