053.

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.*・。. AN ODE TO CLARK KENT .*・。.
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053.
TAKE A MINT,
TAKE A HINT.
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——

    "Stiles, I'm not smelling your dad's boxers..." Scott frowned, his ear pressed to his phone as the four entered the Argent home. He listened; "Socks?"

   Scott thought about it.

   He sighed, "Okay, I'll smell the socks."

   Lois rolled her eyes.

    "The ever unyielding Scott McCall," she mocked.

   Scott's lower lip jutted, somewhat offended, but he supposed he wasn't exactly obstinate. He did tend to give into things rather easily, and he seldom denied what others asked of him. Scott had always thought that was because he was kind, and because his mother got first dibs in raising him well, but perhaps it wasn't that simple. Lois might have had a point, despite it being expressed in a childish jab.

   Maybe if Scott had an actual backbone, he wouldn't have gone with Deucalion. Then maybe, just maybe, Lois wouldn't have been so disappointed with him. And, maybe she wouldn't refuse to look at him for more than ten seconds.

   Maybe.

   Turning away from his pout, Lois swiftly followed after Allison, waiting for Isaac to shut the door and letting him catch up. It was almost an instinctive action, now. Lois had hardly even noticed it.

   Back at the animal clinic, the pack had split into groups. Group one was Stiles and Luna, who would head back to his place for an item for Scott to sniff in order to catch his father's scent, and then clamber through Lois' window (as he had done for years) in search of something belonging to her father. It didn't have to be anything special, just something from the laundry hamper that the man had worn recently. Personally, she hoped it wasn't his boxers or socks. A shirt would do just fine.

AN ODE TO CLARK KENT ➸ isaac lahey ²Where stories live. Discover now