AN: I know I should b updating one of my other stories, but as I'm partial finished with chapters for each of them I decide to give in an just put this up here. If you haven't guessed from reading Mother Russia I really like babies. And baby stories.

CHAPTER ONE

Stiles was used to strange things by now. Hell, he was surrounded by so many supernatural creatures that turned out to be real that he'd even started considering whether or not Santa Clause had any credibility. Though if Stiles luck held, Santa would turn out to be some child eating cannibal or something equally gruesome. (Yeah, Stiles was really considering investing in some intense therapy lifelong therapy for all the shit he'd been through.) But among the strange things Stiles had went through and seen, this was the most downright surreal.

Isaac Lahey in the baby section of Wal-Mart holding two different brands of diapers in his hands looking ready to burst into tears at any moment.

There was really only one logical explanation for this and Stiles being Stiles blurted it out before he could even consider it.

"Oh my God, you knocked Erica up didn't you?" Stiles shouted from where he was standing at the end of the aisle. Isaac's head snapped instantly in his direction so startled Stiles was sure he was right. After all no way Stiles could manage to sneak up on a Werewolf, even a puppy like Isaac, unless they were totally consumed in adolescent angst.

The older women in the aisle, including a woman well into her sixties, looked scandalized.

"No!" Isaac protested looking horrified as he finally registered what Stiles had said.

Stiles blinked and reconsidered. "So it was Boyd?"

"No!"

"Derek?"

Isaac eyes bugged out and he looked like he was in shock shaking his head as if to get the thought of Derek and Erica together far, far from his thoughts.

Stiles was relieved for a split second before his mind registered the last member of Derek's pack.

"Oh God, not Peter! He's ancient!"

"NO!" Isaac actually looked nauseous, but before Stiles could continue he interrupted. "Erica's not pregnant!"

Stiles relaxed. That could only be a good thing. It had been two weeks since the whole Gerard incident and Erica's behavior had changed dramatically. She wasn't quite the petrified shy girl from before, but she wasn't the mega bitch who'd brained Stiles with the innards of his Baby. A happy medium had occurred; even her clothes were toned down, though remained quite a bit more sexual than her former attire. When she'd passed by Stiles the last few days of school she'd given him a small smile or wave to acknowledge his existence. But even with the personality adjustment she'd gone through Stiles really was glad he wasn't going have to deal with Teen Mom: Werewolf Edition.

Then he looked at the Pampers again.

"Then why are you buying diapers?"

Isaac blanched and looked away shifting his feet awkwardly and looking for an escape. Stiles wasn't having that though and was on Isaac before he could maneuver his way through the women at the other end, Stiles angled his buggy so it blocked the exit behind him. Close up Stiles noticed other suspicious signs. Telltale bags under his eyes, stains on his shirts that suspiciously looked like drool or worse, and most telling of all the familiar small of milk. Stiles narrowed his eyes. Why the hell did Isaac look and smell like a new mother or Stiles when he'd been forced to baby sit his Uncle Phillip's twins when Aunt Mary had been in the hospital?

"You smell like baby." Stiles accused, making Isaac jerk and give him an are-you-crazy and what-the-hell sort of look. Realizing he wasn't going to get an immediate response Stiles prodded.

"Why do you smell like baby?"

Isaac opened his mouth, considered it, closed his mouth, reconsidered it, opened it again, tried to speak, and wound up gaping at Stiles like a very awkward fish with large watery puppy dog eyes practically begging for help. Stiles hated puppy dog eyes. Mostly because they were one of his very few weaknesses. Sighing Stiles backed up a little. He felt almost guilty with the way Isaac was looking at him like he'd just beaten him. Normally Stiles would just keep demanding answers, he was Stiles after all, but Isaac looked like he was about to collapse, either in tears or just in a faint.

"Do you want help?" Stiles settled on. "You're obviously almost as clueless as Scott when it comes to babies and lucky for you I happen to be an expert."

Isaac looked ready to devote a religion to Stiles right then and there in the middle of Wal-Mart, which was all well and good. Stiles deserved some worshippers after all he'd been through and put up and really for just being amazing in general, but he really didn't want Isaac crying either like his increasingly wet eyes were implying he wanted to.

Stiles sighed as he began his "Baby Basics For Beginners" speech. Stiles was really too nice for his own good. Well maybe not that nice. He was doing this mostly so he could find out what the hell Isaac was doing with a baby after all. Which he was totally going to, after all as far as he knew Isaac didn't have a car and as Stiles spoke it was pretty obvious they were going to need Stiles jeep to get it back to wherever Derek was hiding out. God, Stiles really hoped they weren't keeping the baby in the subway station, but surely they weren't that oblivious.

Damn, he really, really hoped they weren't that stupid.

. . .

Thankfully, Stiles fears were put to rest when Isaac told him to head to the Hale house before falling right off to sleep in Stiles passenger sit. But truthfully the burnt husk of Derek's childhood home was only a slight improvement to an abandoned subway when it came to babies. Speaking of which what the hell? The more time Stiles had to think about this the more he realized how insane it was that Derek's Pack had somehow managed to get a baby. They hadn't kidnapped had they? Then again if Isaac's expression was anything to judge by if they had they would have returned it by now. Before Stiles's mind could think of something else though he was pulling up at the house.

He was surprised by what he found. There had been some pretty obvious renovations done. For starters it wasn't burnt it was an actually house with walls, a roof, and everything. It was two stories and huge, Stiles bet Derek had built it to resemble the original Hale house because something about it was vaguely familiar. It was plain though, Stiles could see through the new windows empty rooms and the building itself was colorless. It definitely didn't look like anyone lived there. How the hell had Derek managed this in two weeks, because Stiles knew that the house had definitely still been a shell when Gerard died.

He turned to wake up Isaac, but the teen was already awake and looking oddly pained. Covering his ears, Isaac reluctantly got out of the jeep and sped to the back to get the supplies mixed in with Stiles own groceries. Stiles followed more slowly, but the second his door was open he heard what was making Isaac cringe. It didn't sound like a cry. It was more of a siren, a high pitched painful siren.

Stiles marched onto the porch threw open the door and followed the noise to the baby.

Derek was holding it face pained, growling. Actually growling. At a baby. A BABY. Peter, Stiles noticed out of the corner of his eye, was about as far away as he could get from the child, while still keeping it in his sight. Derek's head snapped up as Stiles stomped towards him eyes red and looking like he'd gotten less sleep than Isaac. Considering Isaac looked ready to keel over any second, Derek looked pretty dead. Like wolfs bane bullet dead.

"Give it here." Stiles demanded and seeing the reluctance continued. "I can make the crying stop."

It was a sign to just how horrible baby cries were to Werewolf ears that Derek immediately handed over the infant at that. It took a moment for Stiles to get reacquainted with the fine art of baby holding, but when he had he began a swaying motion that was usually soothing. The baby was silent clearly in shock by Stiles sudden appearance and Stiles took the pause to look it over to find out what was wrong and to give the baby a good once over.

Stiles first thought was. Adorable. Stiles quickly discovered it was in fact a she and it was also pretty obvious she was a Werewolf. Her eyes were the same glowing blue Derek's had been when he was a Beta, which Stiles filed away under the folder Suspicious, she had tiny pinprick claws on her small, sweet little hands, and she was furry, a little white-blonde bundle of pure undiluted cuteness. Stiles should have been warned that Werewolf babies were this cute. They were like the Atom Bomb of cute. Illegally cute. So soft and squishy. Stiles gave her fluffy little body a pet, rubbing her stomach and feeling the silky fur. She went limp and Stiles couldn't resist a coo.

"Oh, you are so cute!" Stiles gushed. "Such a good baby. Yes, you are. And look at those eyes, I'd say their like sapphires, but clearly you are a refined little lady who deserves more than clichés. It looks like you got one thing from your Daddy at least. Let's hope you don't have his Sourwolf personality too. I doubt it though, not with what a good girl you are."

At this Derek growled next to Stiles and the baby stiffened a small quivering whimper coming out of her that was warning to another siren.

"Do. Not. Growl. At. The. Baby." Stiles warned, rather proud of how menacing he sounded. Derek though was already silent looking terrified at the infant. From his corner Peter snorted. As Derek glared at his Uncle, backing away from Stiles and the little Werebaby slightly, Stiles rolled his eyes.

Adjusting the baby so she rested against him (her little clawed hands gripping his shirt instantly in a way that made him melt) he looked around the sparse room for a place to sit. There wasn't much, just a worn couch, laptop, and a box. Stiles frowned. This was not a good environment for child rearing, though he supposed, grudgingly, it could be a lot worse and he had picked up most of the necessities with Derek's credit card. Besides Stiles new his Dad had saved all of Stiles's baby furniture in the basement so he could bring that over later, or send one of Derek's puppies to get it. Speaking of puppies, Isaac was sticking his head in the room, Stiles assumed it was the living room, looking wary and hopeful, bags clasped against him like a shield.

Stiles tried not to snort as he sat down. "Don't worry Stiles has conquered the horrible monster."

Isaac looked sheepish at that and stepped inside straightening. Peter snorted again, but didn't comment, acting oddly inarticulate.

"Does she need something?" Isaac asked, looking ready to run if the baby so much as made a sound.

The wet spot on Stiles shirt told Stiles exactly what was wrong.

"She's hungry." Stiles informed them and pointed to one of the bags Isaac held. "Feeding time."

. . .

After the baby was feed and content in Stiles arms the Werewolves relaxed. Peter actually entered the room, though he still hovered in a corner like the creeper he was. Derek sat beside him on the couch, but as far away as he could. Isaac flopped out on the floor in front of him doing a pretty good impression of a puppy that really made Stiles want to give him a pet or at least say good boy. Her needs fulfilled the baby was dozing still furry, but her eyes had changed from the burning blue to a dark green that made Stiles give Derek another suspicious look.

"So who was the lucky girl?" Stiles asked casually hating the silence.

"What?" Derek demanded, looking ready to growl, but apparently knowing better. Good dog, Stiles thought to himself.

"Well Derek, there seems to be a baby, a Werebaby, and I sincerely hope I don't have to explain how those are made." Derek scowled eyes doing that thing that was usually a prelude to Stiles getting thrown into a random surface or threatened.

"The cub isn't mine." Derek said stiffly.

"Right." Stiles said disbelieving. "It's a coincidence she has your eyes, she's in your house, your pack is taking care of her, and let's not forget that she's a Werewolf."

"She isn't mine." Derek repeated stubbornly, jaw set and then after a brief pause. "Her mother abandoned her."

"What?" Now Stiles was staring. Derek looked at his knees face unhappy, jaw clenched, looking as if each word was dragged out of him. Forcefully. Possibly with heavy machinery.

"I went up north, to Washington. That's where we stayed afterwards. The mother was young and her mate was dead. She didn't want her. It's not unusual for a young female to give up her child to the Mercy of the Pack, but pack was splitting up. They weren't interested in me as there Alpha, but as Laura's successor," There was a certain dark look that though he didn't look at Peter, Stiles was sure Derek directed at him. "She's my responsibility."

Stiles took a moment to process this watching the Werebaby, now asleep, as she slumbered in his arms making little snuffling snores that were as cute as the rest of her. She curled closer to him her tiny grip tightening as she rubbed her little head almost under his arm. Stiles lost his heart. He knew he was screwed in that moment. Because, damn it, here was his second weakness. Babies.

Stiles was a sucker for babies. Ever since he'd spent most of his summer when he was twelve taking care of the twins while Uncle Phillip helped his Aunt Mary who was in the hospital from a pretty bad car accident and doing physical therapy, Stiles had been pretty good with babies. Honestly, despite the crying and pooping and unpleasant parts he'd loved having the twins around. It had been the same year Scott had been forced to spend at his dad's before getting back with his mom, which had been a pretty lonely year for Stiles. The twins had been a welcomed distraction. Afterwards he'd been his aunt and uncle's go to baby sitter before they'd moved to Canada when Uncle Phillip got offered a good job.

"I'll help you." Stiles said clearly startling Derek who just looked at him. Stiles looked at the baby realizing another problem.

"Wait, what's her name?"

"Doesn't have one."