Two

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"MORNING, STRING BEAN."

Stiles greeted his best friend happily the following day when she met him in front of the Jeep.

She smiled, greeting him with a toss of a blueberry muffin that he swiftly caught. She knew he never liked eating breakfast but took everything she baked (especially her muffins) as the exception.

"Awe, thanks, doll."

Stiles used his free hand to open the door for her.

"I just had a feeling you'd want one if you saw the one I packed for lunch," Sierra said after he closed the door and rested his arms on the open window to look at her. "I figured it was better to give you one up front."

"I don't know whether to be happy you know me so well or be ashamed that I'm predictable," he replied.

"Be ashamed," Sierra teased. "I made an extra half batch just for you. They're sitting on the kitchen counter as we speak."

Stiles feigned offense. "And why aren't they in my stomach?" he went to run toward her house, but Sierra grasped his sleeve through the window, just in time.

"No way, you can have them later," she promised. "Right now, we need to leave. Otherwise, we're going to be late."

Stiles pouted but chose to listen to her. He jogged to the other side of the Jeep, taking a bite of his muffin as he climbed in.

When his door shut, Sierra asked if he had heard from Scott. Part of her felt guilty for leaving him in the woods while they left with Stiles's dad. "I sent him a text, but he never responded."

"Oh, he's fine," Stiles brushed off her concern as he started the ignition. The engine sputtered for a second, causing him to nervously pat the steering wheel. However, soon the two were peacefully driving down the road. "He told me he got bit by something, though, wouldn't tell me anything else."

Sierra's blue eyes widened. "What do you mean he got bit?"

"I don't know how else to say it," he admitted with a chuckle. "But he's fine, Si, don't worry about it."

Sierra said nothing, but bit out of her muffin and placed her feet on the dash.

Stiles saw this as he stuffed his muffin wrapper in the cup holder and sighed. "Sierra, I promise he's fine. There's nothing too remotely dangerous in the preserve." He kept one hand on the wheel while using the other to grab her hand.

Sierra fumbled their fingers together, finding the action almost soothing. "What happened with your dad after I left?"

"Nothing too big," he answered. "I was wondering if he found a suspect yet, or even has one in mind, but he didn't tell me anything."

Sierra chuckled. "Stiles, as much as your dad loves you, I'm pretty sure he's not supposed to disclose that information."

"He loves you way more than me. Maybe you should try to get it out of him," Stiles glanced at her, and she caught the mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

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