Boxing Day!
A day dedicated to reading, cricket, leftovers, and in this case giving you another chapter. And it's dedication - a part of me wants to sink into Danny/Steve wedding fun. It's calling to me...
It was brought to my attention that there is a very real place call Signal Hill that isn't anything like the one I described. My one is completely fictional and made up and I had no idea there was a conflict. I just liked the idea of a very similarly named place next to Beacon Hills.

This was not supposed to have a STORY it was just meant to be Christmas fluff but family drama demands to be paid attention to. I don't get it, the worst family drama at my Christmas was a disagreement about the fact that my front porch didn't need to be swept.

/ / / Christmas Cake \ \ \

Sam rang the doorbell and smiled at Derek when the werewolf opened the door and ushered him in.

"Stiles is in the kitchen," Derek said, taking the sheriff's coat. "He's making the cake for Christmas."

"You've decided to embrace these plans for a grand Christmas?"

"He's having a lot of fun with it," Derek said on a shrug. "I've found that surrender in the face of this level of enthusiasm from him is better. I don't have anything against Christmas and I really don't mind having everyone here – it suits the alpha in me even if I'm not an alpha anymore."

"How does that work? Stiles tried to explain it once but it didn't make much sense."

"I'm not physically an alpha anymore but my instincts still exist and I still feel the desire to protect and nurture the pack. There aren't that many alphas who have given up their powers like I have but everything I've been able to find shows that this is a normal reaction to what I did – I saved Cora by giving up my alpha powers which was in itself the action of true…wrong word given Scott but still right…the action was in the true essence of what it means to be an alpha. So the instincts aren't just a part of being an alpha they are part of who I am."

"But you're happy to be a beta?"

Derek shrugged. "I'm happy with my life right now."

Sam smiled at him. "That is a very reassuring answer for Stiles' dad but it didn't actually answer my question."

"You know Stiles does that too," Derek said, pushing the kitchen door open. "Refusing to leave something alone."

"I do," Stiles agreed happily, pulling a pot off the stove and settling it on a pot holder. "Hey Dad."

Sam accepted a hug from Stiles before his son went back to the stove.

"We're having chicken schnitzel with salad."

"That sounds nice," Sam said, thinking of how often his son tried to feed him food that was too healthy to be really yummy.

"Derek's cooking," Stiles said, turning the oven on and then pulling out a deep cake tin. "I'm making our Christmas cake."

"Don't you think you're overdoing this a bit?"

"Yep," Stiles agreed happily. "Want something to drink?"

"Water's fine."

Stiles got his father a glass of water and ushered him to a seat and then went back into the kitchen to pull out some baking paper before he joined his dad with the cake tin. "How's work?"

Sam shrugged. "Fine."

Stiles nodded, his father seemed less and less happy with work every time he spoke to him. He let it go though. "Have you given some more thought to your big trip?"

Sam smiled. "Are you both still going to come?"

"Of course," Derek said. "Assuming you want us both to come."

"You're family now, Derek, of course we want you to come."

"I keep telling him," Stiles said, lining the cake tin with a double layer of baking paper and then pushing the tin to the side. "Do you want help with the planning or do you want to do it all yourself?"

"I want help," Sam said. "But we can worry about it all after Christmas."

Derek stood at the kitchen bench, making them lunch, while Stiles pried out of his father a list of all the places he would like to go. Derek had a feeling that Stiles was going to try and use some of his royalties to give his father a bigger holiday than the man intended but he'd save that conversation until after Sam left. He battered the thinly beaten chicken and his senses warred between the heavy smell of lemon from the chicken and the rich, alcohol-scented, smell of the fruit. He could smell the pudding still steaming away in the pot on the stove. He didn't understand the appeal of cooking cake and pudding over a month before Christmas but he could understand that Stiles was invested in doing this. And this is what Derek had wanted when he'd spent time pining after Stiles. He'd wanted them to share this life and all the insane, joyful, thirst for life things that Stiles did and he wanted them to share his need to support the pack of another alpha.

"Stiles," Sam finally said. "We can talk about it after Christmas."

"Fine, but we could have done a little preliminary planning today."

"While you're making a cake and Derek's cooking lunch, and you have a…something else cooking on the stove?"

"I can multitask."

"And I have always told you; sometimes the best thing to do is concentrate on one thing and do it well."

"Okay, if you're sure, we can look at it after Christmas."

"Thank you."

"Or after lunch."

"After Christmas," Sam said, standing up. "You're just like Claudia…had to be now, too excited over the possibility to leave anything until later."

Stiles smiled at his father but Derek could also see the hint of pain. "Then I feel like you should be used to this by now."

Sam laughed and got himself another glass of water. "Tell me about your Christmas baking plans."

Stiles smiled brightly. "I've made the three different types of fruit mincemeat, I've got the plum pudding steaming in that pot, and I'm about to finish the Christmas cake."

"Seems early."

"Well," Stiles said, smiling. "The idea is that you cook it now, then once a week I pour a tablespoon of alcohol over it to keep it moist and mature it. I stop a week before and let it dry out then I ice it. I'm thinking I'll use royal icing rather than fondant."

"Because fondant is disgusting?" Derek offered.

"Pretty much, but I'm not a marzipan fan either and I'm going to use it on the cake."

Derek shrugged where he was standing, not that invested in anything about the cake – he really didn't like fruit cake.

"Do you like marzipan?" Sam asked him.

"I don't think I've ever eaten it."

"It tastes vaguely like almonds that have gone bad," Stiles offered. "Are you ready for me to make the salad?"

"Nope," Derek shook his head. "Just make your cake and I'll make the salad before I cook these schnitzels up."

Stiles looked about ready to argue and then nodded.

"Are you excited that your mother is coming for Christmas this year?" Derek asked Sam.

Sam shrugged. "Yes and no."

"I understand," Derek said, ripping cos lettuce leaves and throwing them into a bowl. He could understand even if he didn't have the specifics.

"My mother," Sam started and then shook his head. "I'm sure Stiles has told you that he gets his more dramatic tendencies from her."

Derek turned to look at Stiles who shrugged. "Mum was kind of dramatic too."

"She was nothing like my mother," Sam disagreed. "My mother is selfish and completely…there is no correct way of saying nuts anymore is there?"

"No, especially since she isn't emotionally or mentally ill."

"You try growing up with her," Sam threw back.

Derek wondered if Sam took after his father or if he had become a sheriff in rebellion to the lifestyle he had grown up with. He didn't really think it was any of his business though and Stiles would end up telling him all about it with the smallest provocation later.

"I know she's hard work, Dad, but we haven't seen her in ages and it's nice that she wants to come and see us."

"I just don't understand why she's coming now."

Stiles shrugged. "What did she say when she called."

"Hello Samuel, I'm coming over for Christmas. I assume you have room for me to stay there since Stiles has left to live with his boyfriend."

"Fiancé," Stiles corrected.

Sam shrugged. "You wanted me to tell you what she'd said."

"Is that it?"

"She told me about what she's been doing in Essex and the woes of community theatre in such a small town and then she told me she would be here on the twentieth."

Stiles frowned as he stirred the cake mixture together and then poured it into the pan. Derek wanted to ask but he hadn't quite worked out how deeply Sam was willing to let him into their family. Regardless of what he said about the holiday for his birthday.

"Even if she's horrible," Stiles said. "We will still have a nice Christmas."

"Yes," Sam lied, heartbeat quirking, but his face was a mask of belief. "We will have a wonderful Christmas."

Stiles smiled and slipped the cake into the oven. "That needs two hours."

Stiles set out plates on the table while Derek finished making lunch and then slid into the chair next to his dad. He dropped his voice down but he had to know that Derek could still hear him. "If you don't want her to come we can come up with a lie, we can tell her that we already have plans somewhere else. I know she annoys you and I know she wasn't the best of mothers."

Sam shook his head, Derek pretended he wasn't paying close attention to what they were doing and saying.

"What?" Stiles asked.

"She's still my mother and if she's making the effort then she can stay with me."

Derek wasn't going to say anything but his mouth started without him. "One of my rental properties is empty at the moment. It's furnished, and in the centre of town, she could stay there."

Stiles and Sam turned to look at him.

"What?" Derek asked defensively.

"Rental properties?" Sam asked.

"I ain't saying I'm a golddigger, but I ain't messing with no broke werewolf."

Derek shook his head and judged his own taste in men as Stiles doubled over in laughter.

"How long have you been waiting to make that joke?" Sam asked.

"Oh, so long."

Derek groaned. "The offer is there if you need it."

"I didn't know you owned a rental property."

"Properties," Derek corrected. "I own a few, but one of them is empty and I can just hold off looking for anyone until after she goes home."

"You would do that for her?"

"I would do it for you," Derek shrugged, feeling self-conscious now he'd said the words. "Stiles…" he added plaintively.

"Derek is done with his emotional openness for the day. It's settled, if you want - Lucille can stay in his apartment and you can hear how horrible it is to not be given a place to stay in her own son's house but only when you see her and I will make sure to alternate days with you so you don't have her all the time. Then we can have a family Christmas and everything will be fine."

Sam nodded. "That would be great, thank you, Derek."

Derek shrugged and carried the food over to the table. "Let's eat."

Luckily, the accommodation arrangements weren't brought up again, the cake came out perfectly, and they sat around in the lounge room chatting until late in the day about Stiles' latest book and the plans Sam had for a vegetable garden when winter was over. Derek suspected that the older man was gearing up to retirement. Derek hadn't thought he would ever have a family moment like this and yet the Stilinskis had brought him into their lives. And he was eternally grateful…even if there was more opportunity to stress than ever before.

/ / /