A/N - Just thought this would be an interesting story. I know it bears similarity to certain other works of fiction and I am not claiming originality points. If people like it, I'll continue it, if not it will be a two or three shot. Hope you enjoy!

"I don't suppose you know any magic to fix my Jeep's brakes?" Stiles asked Deaton as he left the vet's office.

Deaton gave him a serious look. "The last time anyone tried to mix magic and car repair, it backfired so horribly they made a movie about it. Now please be careful with these herbs. They are all either powerful or poisonous or both, but my sister needs them if she's going to try and shut down the Nemeton's summoning power, or at least dampen it for a while by summoning a guardian spirit. If not, Beacon Hills will attract creatures far deadlier than werewolves."

Stiles took the 'spice rack' full of glass bottles and got into his beloved Jeep. He secured it in the back seat and took off for the creepy old tree stump in the woods.

He was singing along with the radio, be-bopping back and forth and drumming hyperactive fingers on the wheel, daydreaming about a monster-free (except for werewolves) Beacon Hills that might actually be safe for his Pack and his father to live their lives in.

A huge red-eyed monster seemed to drop from the sky and land in front of the Jeep. Stiles screamed and slammed on the brakes. There was a tortured grinding sound as the non-existent pads tried to stop the forward momentum of the car. Everything on the back seat tumbled to the floor of the Jeep, and Stiles heard the distinct sound of glass breaking. Seeing he wasn't going to be able to stop in time, Stiles whipped the wheel around and spun the Jeep through a massive spiral before finally coming to a halt. He sat there hyperventilating for a few moments before the red-eyed monster appeared at his window. Stiles irritably rolled down his window and screamed at it. The monster took a few startled steps back.

"Derek! What the hell?! Are you trying to kill me, my Jeep or commit suicide? All of the above? I have to get new brakes on her, and probably new rotors too!"

Derek shifted back to full human, his eyes losing their red tint. "There are Hunters in the area, not nearly nice as the Argents, and possibly another Alpha as well. What are you doing out here so late? I needed to warn you off before you got yourself attacked or kidnapped…again."

Although Stiles could see the concern in the Alpha's eyes (now that they weren't glowing), he was still annoyed that Derek had once again caused damage to his wonderful Jeep.

"Send a text next time! Not much point saving me from Hunters if you wind up killing me yourself! And you will be contributing to her repair fund!"

Derek's eyes flashed. "I did text you. AND call. Your phone is dead, as usual."

Stiles sputtered. "My phone's been charging all day…" Stiles checked his phone, to find it was indeed out of power. He checked the car charger was plugged in at both ends (it was) and yanked the plug out of the car's outlet. The outlet and plug came out together. Stiles banged his head into the steering wheel.

"That's my job," Derek told him.

"Another thing to repair. I…I just can't afford my baby anymore…" Stiles moaned. "Derek, I have to get her home. Can you get these herbs to Deaton's sister at the Nemeton?" Stiles reached around in the back until he found the glass bottles and the rack. A few of the tops were missing, but nothing seemed to be broken beyond a chip in one of the bottles.

"Stiles, I don't want to leave you in the woods with a Jeep that's decidedly…"

Stiles' eyes smoldered for all that he wasn't even a werewolf. "One more word, and I rip your throat out with my teeth!"

Derek snarled. "Forget it. The Hunters can have you. You'll probably annoy them to death." He took the herbs, turned and stalked off into the woods.

That's when the engine died.

"Shit!" Stiles whispered. He reached around in the back for a flashlight so he could check under the hood. He wrinkled his nose at the strange scent coming from behind his seat. Probably that stuff he dropped. Something seemed to bite into his hand.

Stiles screamed and yanked his hand back, inspecting it under the flickering dome light…great, now his battery was going out too. Next the Jeep would just explode.

A small piece of glass, undoubtedly from the broken bottle, had pierced his palm. There was already a fair quantity of blood flowing from the wound. Stiles pulled the fragment out and chucked it through the open window.

His earlier good humor was completely gone. A feeling of hopelessness descended upon him, and he actually felt tears in his eyes. Yet another thing he loved was in danger of being taken away from him forever. His father had been threatening to have the Jeep junked for a while now, maybe get him a Mustang, but Stiles could never betray his baby like that. He felt guilty asking his father for money for the mounting repair bills, knowing his father could probably save money just getting him the new car. He'd gotten the Jeep old and used already, and it was only with the utmost TLC that it had lasted this long.

He found the flashlight and pulled the hood release before getting out and shining the light over the engine. The battery contacts were corroded from acid leaks, so Stiles got a piece of Brillo from his glove compartment and carefully cleaned them. The corrosion sometimes interfered with the charge, making it seem like the battery was dead when it really wasn't. He got back in the car and tried again. No sound whatsoever, and now the dome light was very weak.

Stiles caught a glimpse of red eyes staring at him from the woods, breathing a sigh of relief. Derek must have moved fast to get back so quickly. The eyes were traveling rapidly towards him. A rage-filled roar echoed out of the forest, making Stiles want to void his bladder right then and there.

That was not Derek.

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit…please baby, don't die on me now. Daddy needs you!"

Stiles turned the key, and the engine roared to life. Stiles threw it into first and floored the accelerator just as the killer Alpha reached the Jeep, getting its head in the window, snapping and snarling at a terrified Stiles. It's fangs ripped at the passenger seat upholstery…the thing was freaking rabid!

Then the Jeep was speeding away while the furious Alpha gave chase. Stiles raced through the woods, praying he could get somewhere, anywhere that was safe but not having any idea where that might be.

An enormous SUV exploded out of the woods to the left of the road, and began chasing them. Stiles had a desperate idea. Before the SUV could get up to full speed, Stiles slammed his brakes. The SUV rammed into him from behind, the seatbelt saving Stiles from a flight through his windshield, and the Alpha was crunched in between the two vehicles. The Alpha exploded like a bag of blood, and the SUV's hood crunched inward sickeningly. Stiles made to floor the gas pedal when a second SUV blocked off his escape. The next thing Stiles knew, he was being pulled from his Jeep while a number of men with lethal looking weaponry checked him over.

"No bites that I could see, but there's a lot of blood. Couldn't have turned that quickly. Still, he's seen too much. Should we finish him off?" The Hunter who was examining him was dead serious.

Other Hunters were pulling the driver of the wrecked SUV out from under the air bag that deployed when he hit the Alpha. He was barely conscious, but alive. An old grizzled Hunter who looked to be the leader approached Stiles and looked at him with piercing eyes that reminded Stiles uncomfortably of Gerard.

"What you doin' in these woods, boy?" his voice was like low and scratchy, and made Stiles fear him even more. It was a gargoyle's voice if he ever heard one.

"On a mission for Chris Argent. Thanks for saving me from the dog bite back there." Stiles lied, trying to play it cool. Hopefully throwing Argent's name out there would keep them from figuring out he was connected to the Hale Pack.

"Argent? You telling me you're a Hunter, boy?" The man smiled, displaying leaning tombstone teeth. Oh Holy Hell was Stiles scared.

"N-no, not a Hunter…I uh, don't have what it takes. I just help them out now and then."

"I see. And this 'mission'…care to tell me what it might be?" The smile grew wider.

Stiles thought furiously for a few seconds. If he gave an answer, any answer, his cover would be blown. Hunters, even the nice ones, were all kinds of tough and arrogant. Spilling his guts too quickly might lead to a more literal version of that experience. For this guy to believe the story, Stiles had to show some kind of backbone.

"You want to know that, you take it up with the boss himself. In fact, let's go there now!" Chris would be pissed at Stiles bringing rogue Hunters to his door, but would likely cover for him. After Gerard beating him to death, Chris owed him one.

The creepy Hunter laughed and clapped Stiles on the shoulder. "Maybe you do have what it takes after all, boy. You helped to take out an Alpha…quick thinking by the way…and stand here alone in the woods, surrounded by killers…and you hold your tongue. Oh, I could have it out of you if I wanted…but Argent's affairs don't concern me and I have a wounded soldier to attend to. My name is Rourke. Tell Argent we're here to clean up his mess. If he likes, he is welcome to come see me!"

Rourke and the other men laughed before climbing back into the working SUV and roaring off. Stiles got his breathing back to normal and got back in the Jeep. His phone beeped.

"Huh?" Stiles checked the outlet. It was back in place and solidly anchored. The phone was at 30% charge. Did he stick it back in and fix it without realizing it? He couldn't remember. Shrugging, he set off for home. He called Derek and Chris and warned him about the Hunters, and listened to both men scream at him and tell him to stay far away, they were too dangerous for him to be around. Stiles agreed on both counts and hung up, wanting only to get home to bed. Backing into his driveway, the brakes stopped the car with quiet ease, and Stiles remembered they hadn't been working…but now they were.

"Thanks baby, I never should have doubted you. You were there when I needed you…I am never giving you up and I will always take care of you. I promise."

Stiles got out and rubbed his hand lovingly along the side of his car. The Alpha's blood decorated the back, but there didn't seem to be too much damage. Stiles hosed off the blood before plugging his phone in the house charger and going to bed. Carelessly, he left the headlights on. The yellow-white beams chased the darkness from the front of the Stilinski home for an hour or so until the full moon rose high into the sky.

Suddenly the headlights flicked red, and the engine came to a low and grumbling life. It almost sounded like it was growling. Then both the engine and lights cut off, and the neighborhood was quiet once more.

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Stiles woke up early the next morning, after bizarre dreams of driving at breakneck speed through the forest. He went downstairs and found a note from his father.

'Son, took your baby in to get those brakes looked at. You can pick it up around noon, it's all paid for. Love, Dad.

P.S. I STILL think you should get a Mustang!

Stiles grinned, thinking how much he loved his father. He called Derek again, who reported that Morell had gotten her herbs, but that the summoning spell was an inexplicable failure. Stiles sighed.

"Well, I'm glad the insane Alpha is gone, but I'm pretty worried about those new Hunters."

"Argent said he would take care of it…but all the wolves of Beacon Hills are going to be laying low until they leave. We've got another 4 weeks until the next full moon, so I don't have to worry about anyone getting into trouble that way. Look, sorry about last night. I'll see what I can do about helping you with your jalopy."

"Thanks, Sourwolf." Jalopy! Of all the nerve! It took Stiles a few seconds to realize that Derek was actually trying to be considerate. "I mean…thanks. My car charger works again though, so please really just send a text next time. Talk to you later."

Stiles made himself pancakes, eggs and bacon and amused himself by watching Power Puff Girls and Dexter's Laboratory until noon. Scott dropped by in his mother's car, and Stiles asked him to drive him to the mechanic to pick his baby up. Stiles picked up the keys and chatted with the owner of the shop, who happened to be great friends with his father before going out to the lot to find his Jeep.

He walked past it the first time, not realizing it was his…he only recognized it by license plate. The Jeep looked brand new, and had somehow been painted all black. The interior upholstery was red and new as well. Gleaming chrome fixtures winked at him, and the Jeep even had that 'new car' smell.

"Oh man…oh wow…" Stiles walked around the car, taking it all in. No dent or scratch could be seen anywhere. The tires were black and new-looking. Missing parts had all been replaced, despite Stiles being told constantly that most of them were discontinued.

Scott was impressed too. "Stiles, who did this?"

He shook his head. "Maybe my Dad…or Derek…or maybe the owner did us a favor…I'm not sure. But Scott, look at her! She is mint! She is completely cherry!" Stiles got in and turned on the ignition. The low thrumming power filled him with glee. Scott parked his mother's car on the street and hopped in beside Stiles. They cruised out of the lot, the engine making its low forceful hum. Stiles made for an abandoned stretch of road, and ramped it up to 4th. The Jeep ate the highway easily doing 120 miles per hour with the engine sounding like it was merely idling. Stiles and Scott whooped and cheered. They spent a good hour or two racing up and down the road before Stiles finally dropped Scott back off at his car, planning to meet for lunch at the Burger Barn.

"Okay, you have to race Derek's Camaro AND Jackson's Porsche…you could probably blow the doors off both of them!"

Stiles could only agree. Boy, were the gang going to regret making fun of his ride all this time. Jackson especially needed to be thoroughly trounced in a race. Then Derek…

Stiles frowned. He had no desire to beat Derek in a race, or make him think his Camaro was inferior to Stiles' Jeep. The idea of pissing Derek off even unintentionally was repulsive to him. Oh well…just Jackson then.

Stiles got to the Burger Barn first. The lot was full, so he parked the next block over on a shady looking street after locking the doors. By the time he got a table, Scott arrived and they spent a good hour consuming burgers, curly fries and two milkshakes each.

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Slick noticed the Jeep immediately, and waited until the dweeb left before going over to check out the mean machine. He whistled appreciatively…he had never seen anything like it; these models were usually pieces of shit. He'd heard the engine too…definitely souped up by a professional. This was a one-of-a-kind steal.

Slick walked up close and looked in the window. Nice! It was unlocked! He gently opened the door and leaned in. He wrinkled his nose. It smelled like dog or something. Why would anyone with a ride like this let their fucking dog ride in it?

The door slammed shut on his head, causing him to scream. "What the fuck?!" he shouted.

It closed itself properly this time, and the lock pushed itself down. The engine began making a low growling noise, and Slick began to back away as the Jeep slowly turned and nosed towards him…bright crimson headlights bathing him in a bloody glow.

"Holy freaking shit…" Slick whispered. He lurched to his feet, clutching his aching head and running as fast as he could go. The Jeep's engine roared as it chased after him, and Slick barely made it to the corner where he hopped over a stone barricade down to an embankment next to a dirty river. He listened to the engine rev, the growling turning into an infuriated roar. Then the noise slowly died off as the Jeep drove itself away.

That didn't stop Slick from hiding there for a good two hours…just in case the thing decided to be sneaky. Slick had a feeling the freako Jeep was good at hunting down prey.