Stiles looked at the clock as it ticked so slowly it he swore it almost froze. When his economics teacher had asked the class to write an essay on inflation he had perfected a 1000 word essay on the pros and cons of becoming a male stripper which he had yet to hand in, but as the rest of the class worked he found that he had exhausted all means of entertainment.

So now he watched the clock as the seconds ticked away towards the end of class. After class him and the pack were heading out to the middle of the Beacon Hills forest for some training that Derek was enforcing upon them. He had thought that he wouldn't have to attend this but Derek had insisted that he did, threatening to hunt him down and rip his throat out if he was absent.

Normally he wouldn't be looking forward to being slave driven by a moody sourwolf but given the choice between that and the monotonous economics class he was currently in, it was a no brainer. Finally the piercing ring of the school bell rang out, Stiles slid his stationary and work books off the table and into his bag, dumped the essay on the teacher's desk and bouncingly waited for Scott.

As they walked through the car park to Stiles' long suffering jeep they were joined by Erica, Jackson and Isaac. Erica gave him a vaguely a predatory stare which made him quickly move so Scott was between them. As Jackson boasted about how much vodka he was smuggling into the camping trip, Stiles climbed into the driving seat and started the engine.

As Stiles drove the pack to the previously decided meeting place in the forest he couldn't help wondering why Derek had invited him. He had claimed that Stiles needed training in control and combat just as much as anybody. Stiles supposed he couldn't argue with that no matter how uneasy the whole thing made him feel. He couldn't help remembering when Scott had first been turned and had tried to kill him.

A sudden thought struck him. What if Peter was there? Though he knew that Peter was working with them (well if not them he was certainly working with Derek) he was still wary of him after the fight in the hospital where Derek had saved his ass like he had been some kind of Damsel in distress. He hoped that he wouldn't have to confront him. The pack would be there this time, that was something at least.

Finally they reached the clearing in the woods Derek had decided upon as their training grounds. Clamoring out of the jeep the pack quietened as they stared around them. The clearing was far enough away from town to avoid suspicion and surrounded by dense, dark forest. At the far other side of it, various obstacles had been set up including targets, dummies, and lengths of chain. Closer to them lay tents, which had been pitched next to Derek's slick black car.

In the distance Stiles could make out Derek's leather clad form next to two others which he assumed were Boyd and, unfortunately Peter. In his trademark over dramatic style, Derek raced on all fours to greet them, eyes red and fangs drawn. Whilst Peter chose to amble slowly towards the pack, rolling his eyes. As they joined the group Boyd went to stand with Erica, Peter stood at a short distance from the group and Derek straightened up clearly about to make a speech.

Eyeing Peter waryily Stiles wondered if perhaps he should have risked getting his throat torn out after all. One thing was for certain. He was glad Jackson had brought that vodka.