Author's Note: This is a Stalia future-fic that takes place in the same universe as my stories, To Save a Life, All the Small Things, Licence and Registration and Run This Town. Enjoy!

Stiles moves too quickly as he climbs out of the jeep and accidentally whacks his head on the door frame. He grunts in surprise and grits his teeth as he rubs his throbbing skull. He shakes his head at himself feeling like an idiot.

Frustrated and tired he makes his way toward his house. It had been a long day.

He's spent the last three days working as the Sheriff's lead investigator on a robbery-homicide case. Then this morning two special agents from the treasury department showed up and locked him out of his own case.

He had spent the whole day catching them up on the specifics of the case and fetching them coffee and files, rather than investigating. His dad had sent him home for the day to "cool off" before he lost it and knocked a few of the senior agent's teeth in.

Stiles steps through the gate and into the yard of his small two-story house on cherry street. Some of the tiredness slips off his shoulders as he sees a small blue bicycle with training wheels laying on the grass.

Tate, his son had just turned five a few weeks ago and Stiles had given it to him for his birthday. Tate loves it and rides it around the yard after supper almost every night. Looking up Stiles grins when he sees the light in his son's bedroom window was still on. At least tonight he was home before Tate's bedtime. When he steps into the house the first thing he hears is the steady stream of the shower running.

It wasn't all that uncommon. The water heater in their house is old and if they wanted hot water then they needed to let it run for a while. Stiles climbs the stairs and makes his way toward Tate's room.

He stops in his tracks, grinning when he hears his wife's voice. "…And they lived happily ever after. The End." He just loves that tender quality that her voice takes on when she talks to their boy. His wife isn't all that delicate or gentle generally speaking. But their boy brings out a softness in her that no one else can, and Stiles finds it incredibly endearing. So he stops in the hallway for a moment and just listens to them.

"O.K. little man, time for bed." His wife says and Tate gives a little giggle as she tickles his tummy. Stiles hears blankets rustle as she settles him down in his bed and tucks him in.

"Mom?" He hears his little guy ask. Stiles grins and continues down the hall toward Tate's room, excited to swoop in and surprise his son. "Do you ever worry about, Dad?" Stiles stiffens, freezing mid-stride.

"Pfft," his wife snorts, "Your dad walked into the mailbox this morning, I'm always worried about him."

Stiles scowls at his wife, shaking his head at her even though she can't see him. He turns leaning back against the wall, listening.

Her tone softens "Why? Are you worried about your daddy?"

"Jace saw a police man on T.V. He says the bad man shot him."

Stiles closes his eyes, a sinking feeling in his chest, his head dropping back against the wall.

Tate's only five. He shouldn't have to be thinking about this.

"Oh, Tate, c'mere, honey." She entreats, in that impossibly tender voice again. Stiles listens to the rustling of blankets as Tate crawls into her arms. "I need to talk to your Uncle Scott about what he's been letting Jace watch on T.V." she mutters into their son's hair.

"Tate, I need you to know something about your dad." She says after a moment of cuddling their boy. "He's the smartest, bravest guy I know." Stiles' eyes fly open, when she says it and warmth blooms in his chest. He straightens up against the wall tilting his head toward her voice. "So even though I worry about him walking into doors, or tripping down stairs sometimes, there is one place where I know that I never have to worry him."

"When he's sleeping?" Tate guesses in a small voice.

Malia chuckles, "Oh, no, silly. He might roll out of bed."

Tate giggles, and Stiles pouts his lips in the hallway. I'm not that much of a spaz.

"I don't worry about your dad when he's at work. Because there is nobody in the world that's better at their job than your dad."

"Really?" Tate asks, his little voice rising with awe.

"Really." She assures warmly.

Stiles leans back against the wall feeling absolutely overwhelmed by the tender confidence in his wife's voice, and in the awe in his son's. He just leans there smiling listening to them talk for a while longer until she steps into the hall.

She's got her eyes pointed at her feet as she walks, the set of her shoulders telling him she's tired. To tired to even notice him, until he catches her by the arm apparently. Her reflexes are fast though and she uses her werecoyote strength to quickly pin him to the wall. Her eyes sparkle with surprise when she recognizes him.

"Sorry, babe," she says in surprise, releasing the front of his shirt. "I didn't hear you—" Stiles leans in cutting her off with a kiss. She melts into him, humming softly in surprise and threading her fingers in his hair. When he pulls back, Malia's caramel brown eyes glitter up at him in the dim light of the hallway. "I didn't hear you over the sound of the shower," she says, raising an eyebrow curiously at him when he leans in and kisses her, distractingly again.

She pulls away chuckling, slightly breathless, "What's gotten into you?" She asks crinkling her eyes at him.

Stiles shrugs, "Nothing, It just feels like it's been way too long since I got to kiss you," he says, as he leans in kissing her again.

Malia smiles against his mouth, and nips playfully at his bottom lip. "You kissed me this morning," she reminds him.

Stiles runs his nose along hers, "Way. Too. Long." he whispers, hotly.

Malia wraps her arms around his neck and pulls back grinning at him, then something in her eyes shifts, "What happened?" she asks, brushing her fingers across his forehead.

Stiles sighs, feeling like a clumsy idiot. "Car door."

Malia bites the corner of her lip, her shoulders shaking in silent laughter. Stiles shakes his head at her, looking unimpressed. Malia strokes his cheek in response and rises up on her tip-toes, brushing her lips against his forehead. "Try to avoid head injuries, please." she whispers against his skin. A shiver rushes down his spine at her featherlight touch. Then she pulls back and pats him on the cheek. "I like your pretty face just the way it is, handsome."

Stiles rolls his eyes at her, exasperated. Malia wraps her arms around his neck and tilts her head at him. "You've been a pretty distracted guy lately," she says, her voice losing its playful edge, "You sure you're OK?"

Stiles smiles at her warmly as he brushes a lock of hair behind her ear, "Yeah." he sighs, "It's just been a long day."

Malia blinks tiredly, nodding in agreement, "I know the feeling."

He brushes his thumb down her cheek. "How about you go have a nice, long shower, and I go tuck Tate in?"

Malia leans her forehead against his smiling drowsily, "That sounds nice." Stiles grins enjoying the sleepy way she leans against him for a few moments longer before she pulls away with a yawn. She runs her fingers fondly along the stubble on his chin, "I'll save you some hot water." she promises as she drops her hand. Stiles watches her walk away, feeling like every inch the same dumbstruck, clumsy seventeen year-old he was when he first laid eyes on her.