Author's Notes: In which there is frantic!Scott, pissed!Allison, amused and scared!jackson, and gleeful!lydia. Also there is growly!Derek and packmom!Stiles with calm!Danny. New to the fandom and a tumblr initiate, so this is one of my attempts to ease into the fandom. Hope you like!

Summary: A normal, relatively peaceful day in the life of the pack. Hopefully funny. Contains Sterek, Scott/Allison, and Jackson/Lydia.

Any Day

There's a quick knock at the door and Stiles moves to get it, glad they'd taken a quick shower before settling in. Derek makes a rumbling noise of protest, pulling back on the arm he had draped over Stiles' waist.

"It might be important."

"It's not." Derek assures him without opening his eyes.

"Stiles? Need help, man. Stiles…"

The human looks down at Derek, who has cracked one eye open only to roll it and loosen his grip on his mate.

"I hate him."

"Only occasionally." Stiles reminds him before getting to the door and stepping outside to talk to his seemingly frantic friend.

"The hell's the matter with you?"

Scott was wide-eyed, glancing behind him every couple seconds and shaking a bit. Stiles was momentarily concerned, putting his hands on Scott's shoulders and leading him out a bit into the main room. Jackson raised an eyebrow in interest at their entrance, turning away from the TV. Reading the paper, Jackson didn't seem to notice them at all.

"Hey, calm down. Tell me what happened. What's wrong?"

After a few seconds, Scott managed to tell him the problem. All vestiges of concern quickly fled and Stiles immediately dropped his hands from Scott's shoulders. His expression twisted into slight annoyance, but he still listened, recognizing his friend was genuinely freaked.

"I-I was in the den with Allison and she was looking in the mirror all weird for a really long time so I asked her what was wrong and she said she didn't like the way she looked lately and I tried to tell her she was really pretty and beautiful, but I don't think it came out right." He's panting and looking at Stiles pleadingly, like a baby bear about to be mauled by a mountain lion that only Stiles can fend off.

Stiles blinked. Usually he was the only one that specialized in light-speed run-on sentences. He recovered quickly and went to reassure his distraught friend.

"Just tell her you're sorry, you're still getting used to this whole 'wolf' thing, your heart beats for her, she completes you, etc." He waves his hand distractedly. "Easy fix."

Scott ran his hand through his hair, worriedly, but he seemed calmer.

"Really?"

"Yeah, dude. She loves you. You love her. You ran the gauntlet of her psycho family for her and she defied generations of tradition for you." Stiles tells him encouragingly. "There's nothing you could've said that could be such a big deal that she'd actually kill you…What did you say anyway?"

Scott opens his mouth, but before he can answer, Allison is rounding the corner, eyes wide and angry, hands fisted, and teeth clenched and bared. They both jump back a bit.

"Dude." Stiles chokes out. "What did you do?"

"Child-bearing hips?" She says, blazing eyes fixed on Scott, tone low and deadly. "I tell you that I'm self-conscious about my figure, and you tell me I have 'child-bearing hips'?"

Scott looks to his side, desperately seeking backup from Stiles, or even Jackson. The spot next to him was empty and the boys were standing side by side over by the wall. Far, far away. Wide-eyed and leaning back from him. When Allison looks at them sharply, they both raise their hands, shook their heads, and shrugged, indicating their non-involvement in the matter and their vehement agreement that Scott was an ass.

Allison turns back to her target and it's difficult to tell for awhile just which one is the vicious creature of the night. The boys watch the scene, unable to look away from the carnage. Stiles has actually seen train wrecks with less carnage.

"…Dude." Jackson says intelligently. Stiles nods, completely understanding all the subtle nuances contained in the one word.

"Yeah, there is no way he's getting out of that one."

The front door opens and Lydia walks in. She comes up next to Stiles, not seeming particularly hurried as she takes in the situation and sets her shopping bags down. She watches like the other two.

"What's going on?"

"Allison talked to Scott about being self-conscious about her body and in a failed attempt to comfort her, he told her she had 'child-bearing' hips." Stiles tells her.

"Oh." Lydia nods before pulling off her high heels and handing them to Jackson. "Be back." And she heads into the fray.

Jackson starts forward, instinctively trying to back up his girl in some way. Stiles puts a hand on his shoulder before he's made half a step.

"No. There is no way that would end well for you no matter what you did or didn't say or do. The only chance you have of not losing a beloved body part is not getting involved and even that's not a hundred percent." He says sagely and Jackson quickly agrees.

"Shouldn't you stop them? I mean, you are the pack mom and all." Stiles had long since stopped flailing and denying the role and the others had never said it to tease him. It was just true. They knew it like they knew Derek was their alpha, instinctually.

Stiles looks like he might be thinking about breaking up the scuffle, but there's a low growling sound from the door just down the hall. They turn and see Derek in the doorway. He gives the fight a passing look of confusion before dismissing it entirely. Clearly, it is unimportant in the face of his goal. He looks at Stiles and jerks his head back toward the room.

Jackson doesn't even have time to rib Stiles about anything before packs of gauze, tape, and ice packs are being dumped into his hands.

"Stop any bleeding, put ice on his head and any swollen pieces they leave behind, and grab a raw steak from the fridge for any black eyes, but watch out for Erica trying to swoop in and steal it she's been on an all raw meat kick lately and it's not good for her so she's supposed to just be eating beef jerky this week, kay?" It's all said in one rush of breath as he moves for the open door that makes Jackson think there might be an empty bottle or two of adderall lying around.

Derek grabs Stiles' wrist and pulls the boy toward him, smiling down at him in that softly-predatory way that he only has for Stiles. He pulls him into a kiss and the door's almost shut before Stiles pulls away abruptly, much to the clear displeasure of the alpha, and sticks his head back out. "And don't forget to sit them all down after it's over and give them ice cream." He shrugs. "It makes them feel better."

Jackson's sure he should object to them being treated like a bunch of kindergarteners, but he realizes Stiles had given him and Scott ice cream after they had fought at practice a few days ago and it had made him feel better. But that was Stiles' job. Jackson wasn't the ice cream getter.

For now, he turns back to the scuffle in front of him, (he hadn't known knees could bend like that) and winces in sympathy. He might toss an ice pack at Scott, but he'd be knocking on their alpha's door for the rest…Knock and run away he means, of course; because Jackson does not want to die from being mauled to death by a naked, sex-deprived Derek Hale while a debauched Stiles watches. Not a good way to go.

Lydia's cackling in a way that told Jackson he should really try not to piss her off in the future. He doesn't really think Scott's foot is supposed to be facing that direction…

On the couch, Danny goes to turn the page of the paper he'd been reading. He glances up at the scene in front of him. Their alpha is slamming the door behind his grinning mate, Lydia is handing all the small projectiles she can find to Allison who is throwing them at a frantically apologizing, ducking Scott, and Jackson is standing off to the side, watching the entire situation, mouth agape and holding bright red stiletto heels and various first-aid supplies. Danny looks back to his paper, satisfied that there's nothing out of the ordinary he needs to be concerned about.