Chapter Text
“GET AWAY FROM MY FRIEND YOU PSYCHO BARBIE BITCH!” Stiles roared, tackling the blonde huntress away from the trembling Scott McCall. An action that immediately drew two shouts of her name in warning and shock considering Kate was a skilled hunter and had a loaded gun. A gun which went off twice before Kate vaulted Stiles off of her, sending her skidding into a tree.
“Oh, oh I knew I liked you!” Kate cried in sick, twisted glee as she rose. “You’re just like me, aren’t you!? Admit it! You’d kill, slaughter for your family!”
“You’re fucking right I would, but that’s not what you did you sick, twisted bitch.” Stiles hissed right back, cradling Kate’s gun in her hands and looking frightening . Honestly, Scott was still caught up on the fact that Kate had gone after him and would’ve killed him , had been seconds away from killing him, and Stiles had saved him. Had put herself in danger for him, him! After he had abandoned her and everything! They had made up, sure, but it’d only been a day since then and he was still worried about if she thought he was serious or not.
“Drop the weapon!” Chris ordered, gun now trained on Stiles and the dangerous glint in her champagne gold eyes. “I said drop it, Stiles!”
“Fuck you!” she spat, “You would’ve let her kill a teenager who hasn’t hurt anyone! Fuck you!” and she was right, but god dammit he couldn’t get control of this situation and he needed to. This could go so many goddamn awful ways and those possibilities only grew with each second Stiles engaged with Kate. “What’s wrong Kate, couldn’t seduce another teenager and rape him, so you were gonna just kill him?”
“I didn’t need to seduce him, my perfect little niece is doing that already. I was just going to kill him to get Derek out here.” out here being the burnt out husk of the old Hale house. “You know what I did here, what do you think?” her response was to shoot Kate in her leg - which the huntress properly dodged and lunged at her in retaliation - and then a single gunshot rang out in and everyone stilled when Kate fell to her knees, then face first onto the ground.
He hadn’t been aiming for Kate, no his shot had been meant for Stiles - who had fired on his sister and his gun was already trained on her - and Kate, when lunging at Stiles, had put herself right in the way of the bullet trying to attack her. He had just killed his own sister, he had just been about to murder a teenager. An innocent teenager, he would’ve - he could’ve-!
Stiles slid down against the tree she had backed into in her attempt to get away from Kate, adrenaline pulsing through her veins and making her blissfully unaware of the bark that bit into her skin when her shirt rose up with the action. Scott was still where he had originally been only now he was staring in horror at Kate’s dead body, able to smell the life as it left her, as well as her blood that decorated the forest floor, the fear, the anger, the hate . Allison was crouched next to Kate’s dead body, knowing that she was a mass murderer and a complete psycho but she was still her aunt . She didn’t know that psycho side of her, not until the last legs of the month. She had just been about to kill her boyfriend without warning or hesitation, her father had fired on a human teenager as if he’d done it before, she was - she was in a family of psycho murderers and she couldn"t - she didn’t like it!
They were a family of werewolf hunters and the only fucking werewolf was Scott McCall who’d done nothing against their families supposed code!
“So change it,” Stiles started, tossing the gun to the left to put her head in her hands only to grimace at the blood that coated her right hand and used her wrists instead. She clearly had said her thoughts aloud, there was no way she couldn’t have, not with the way her father was now looking at her. “You’re matron now, if you hate it, change it. You’re eighteen, of age, they’ll have to listen to you.”
“I - okay, okay.” Allison agreed shakily and, with one last look at her dead Aunt, crawled on weak limbs to Stiles’s side, shakily checking her arm the blood was coating. She could do this, she wasn’t weak, she was strong. She was the Argent family matriarch, she could do this, she could mourn later, right now she needed to check on her friend, the friend who had warned her and told her the truth when her own parents weren’t going to.
“Think it got me both times, was stupid tackling her when she had a loaded gun.” She hissed through her teeth when Ali found the gash on her inner arm from where the bullet had taken a good chunk of her flesh with it. Thank god for shock. “My side too, I think?” She supplied while leaning back to look, not feeling the tell tale flash of pain that had erupted with the first shot rang out. “Oh.” and that was the brunt of it, wasn’t it? There, on her ribcage right under her bra, was a single line of burned flesh where the bullet had only grazed her.
“Stiles?!” and fuck, now the cavalrey was here. Oh fuck, they didn’t get to burn the bitch alive, she actually died fairly fucking quick! Well, now she was pissed again.
“I’m fine!” Peter still burst through the treeline panting and red eyed, fangs partially extended at the smell of her panic, anger, and blood in the air.
“No! Dad! No more death, okay?! I can’t take it!” Allison demanded when the two men had a short stand off from where they stood.
“Guys, shut the fuck up .” Derek and Jackson - who had appeared shortly after Peter - ceased their growling immediately and cut their gazes directly to her. “I’m fine, the bullet grazed me cause I tackled her. Chris killed her as she was coming at me, Scott thought he was meeting Ali because Kate sent him a text, it wasn’t Ali, I called Ali, Ali showed up with Chris, Kate tried to kill Scott, I tackled her.” Oh, and she had called her a psycho barbie bitch, that was funny. This must be shock.
“McCall get off your ass and get over here.” Jackson demanded, rocking the young man out of his terrified stature, sending him scattering over to the two wolves, not caring that it had been Jackson ordering him to move. Right now he just needed to breathe, he needed to fucking think!
“Ali, your necklace that she gave you? Dad got a statement from Harris that the girl who took his plans for Arson was wearing that necklace and fit her description. She’s the only one that hasn’t been arrested or put to trial yet, can you put the necklace on her? I can get it out of evidence later for you, but we can kind of rule this as a suicide so we don’t have to deal with too many questions.”
“It’s a good idea,” Jackson nodded, not missing a beat. ”Shot to the chest for a suicide, not uncommon but its dramatic enough.”
“We’ll handle it!” Chris snapped, holstering his weapon because this, this he knew how to get under control. He’d done this his whole life, he knew what the repercussions of getting bitten were, he lost his uncle, his mother, and his cousin that way. This he could do, this he could control.
“Peter, I’m fine .” she whispered when he knelt beside her, whining low in his throat when he saw the blood on her hand. “They’re both grazes, they’ll heal quick.” She waited until she was sure Ali was with Scott before drawing his face closer to hers to press her forehead against his. “The important thing is that Kate is dead, okay? Gerard will definitely make his presence known, and then we can deal with him.”
“You aren’t going to make this a habit, are you? Jumping in front of loaded guns?” even though his tone was teasing his hands were unnaturally cold against her face, nevermind the fact that they were trembling. “I don’t think I can handle it if you do, you’re still human Mieczyslaw.”
“If those guns are trained on my friends, on pack , then yes. It’s kind of engraved in me to instinctively shield them with my body.” she smoothed his brow with her unbloodied hand and smiled impishly. “I know they can heal, but they shouldn’t have to go through the worst of it because they can heal.” and that, that instinct she had was what told him she’d be a terrific werewolf, that she’d be a formidable Alpha female - that she was most assuredly an Alpha Human - that she’d never let anything happen to her pups. It brought the realization that he loved this little hellion, that he wasn’t going to let anyone take her from him, that she was his human, his Mieczyslaw.
If that was possessive, if the ferocity in which he cared for her was evidence of his underlying crazy? He was healing.
“You need to leave,” Chris told them through clenched teeth. “All of you.” Peter hefted Stiles against his chest and made his way back to his pack, waiting until they all left - and Scott really spent five minutes saying goodbye to Allison - before he and Stiles backed out of the clearing.
“Ali, I’m sorry for your loss.” was the last thing he let her say before he sped away with her clutched tight against him. The trek back to the cars was one of tense silence for multiple reasons. For Scott, it was because he had almost died, his friend had almost died, his girlfriend"s aunt did die by her father - who fired at his friend , a friend he abandoned and accused of being a reason he had never had a girlfriend. For Jackson it was because Stiles had been hurt, she could’ve died, and that had put things into retrospect for him. She wasn’t the first person he had actually cared about, nor the first to actually care about him, but she was the closest thing to a family - now that he knew for certain he wasn’t sexually attracted to her, he just appreciated her beauty - he had. He needed to step up, he needed to do something, and he was fairly sure he knew what that ‘something’ was.
“Peter, put me down a sec?” when he looked down to her she flicked her gaze to Derek and then back to him, telling him without words what she was going to do. With a tempered exhale he slowly set her down and watched as she moved to Derek. “Der,” she grabbed hold of his wrist and tugged him back into the forest line. He went hesitantly, a mess of emotions over everything but outwardly looking pissed off and broody, then stiffened the moment her bleeding arm wrapped around his torso and her good one went into his hair. “She’s dead, Der.” he stiffened in her arms, hands at her waist tightening into her skin. “It’s not the end she deserved, but maybe it’s better this way.”
“I’m fine.” he tried, breath puffing against her hair.
“I know.” maybe it was because she said it with certainty, or maybe it was because she smelled of blood, pain, and love but Derek couldn’t keep the wall up anymore. He couldn’t act like this whole situation wasn’t affecting him, couldn’t act like her death was a minor inconvenience that didn’t have him feeling glad, mad because she didn’t suffer, and hatred for the sole fact that he didn’t get to kill her, didn’t get to see her suffer. He was also glad, glad that he hadn’t been around when it happened, ashamed that he was glad when he should’ve wanted to be around to hurt her with a vindication that would’ve made Peter proud. He was scared, too, because she was close to killing another pack member, then she injured another pack member, and the only thing going through his head was ‘ this, too, is my fault, somehow.’
She didn’t whimper even though he knew he tightened his arms too tight around her torso, didn’t smell of fear when he buried his face in her hair so he didn’t have to look at anything and could just… be in her scent. She was dead, Kate Argent was dead, she was dead .
“She’s dead, there’s a new Hale Pack, and you’re not alone.” she whispered against his chest, “That bitch is burning in hell, the special hell.” he huffed a strangled laugh against her hair and sighed heavily. When he pulled away it was so he could grab the hand she held at the nape of his neck and bumped his forehead against her finger tips.
“I’m alright.” her smile was blinding, even if her pallor was a little paler than normal.
“I know.” he wasn’t going to insult her by thinking she wasn’t intelligent enough to decide if she really liked his Uncle or not, wasn’t going to insinuate that she didn’t know what love was because she was too young. No, Mieczyslaw Stilinski was more intelligent than she let on, she was too honest and genuine to do anything with her emotions halfway. Forget the shovel talk with her for his Uncle, no he would be giving one to his Uncle for Stiles. After a few more seconds of comforting silence he nodded and escorted her back to the pack - most of which were in Jackson’s car - and clapped his Uncle on the shoulder.
With a conversation that relied completely on eyebrow movements - Stiles swears - they nodded and Peter hefted Stiles once more against his chest.
“You just like doing that so you can show how strong you are.” she mumbled, grimacing at the ache that now settled into her bones.
“I have it on good authority that you like it.” his eyes twinkled when she looked at him, blushing but grinning because yes, yes she did like that he was so strong and could just fucking move her and hold her in whatever position or area he wanted and holy shit is that a new kink? Oh fuck. “Lovely smell,” he mused into her wrist, “but not when it’s mixed with pain and blood.” she watched in fascination as his veins turned black like tar, pain fading to a dull, empty throb that left her breathless. “You’re transferring the pain,” she realized and tugged gently on his hair, trying to not become too aroused when he flashed his alpha eyes at her. “It’s just a little uncomfortable, Peter, don’t put yourself in pain ‘cause of me.”
“Liar,” he accused, working through everything else he wanted to say to settle instead with what was appropriate… for now. “I’ll taking you to my apartment first so you can get cleaned up, get those wounds dressed, and changed into some clean clothes.” She smiled wickedly when he sat her in the passenger seat of his own car.
“You have some of my clothes in your apartment?” his answer was to smile and flutter his eyelashes at her in an act of pseudo innocence. In the end of course Peter had some of her clothes in his apartment, some of which she didn’t even remember putting there and was flattered to all hell and back that he had them. He left her to get herself undressed and washed, left her clean clothes to change into as well - though he had left out a shirt and she wasn’t exactly sure why. Not until she was attempting to wrap her ribs with gauze and found it near impossible to move her fucking arm the way she wanted it to.
And then he was coming in and she was still half naked with no top and -
“ Peter !” Stiles squealed when he entered the bathroom, scrambling to try and cover her breasts - which made the gauze she was trying to wrap around her ribs fall around her waist and onto the ground.
“Stiles!” he mocked, feigning shock. “On the sink, I’m going to make sure they’re properly cleaned and wrapped.” he shot one burning look to her arms and rolled his eyes. “You’ve seen me naked, Mieczyslaw, I won’t be salivating over your breasts, I promise.”
“Oh,” then, “Well why not?” her blush was the same shade of his eyes when she realized exactly what she had just said. “I mean, they’re breasts and I - I mean it’s not attractive with blood and - or maybe because they’re mine? Am I - not that I - I mean I do-” she stammered, nervous panic making her heartbeat one steady, pounding rhythm.
“Mieczyslaw.” her gaze snapped right to his shifted eyes, gut curling in anticipation and pleasure at the heat that sat within them. “This isn’t sexual, this is for your health and care.” his hands were hot against her waist and then she was picked up and gently deposited on the counter of the bathroom sink, right at eye level with him and breathless with how easily he moved her and how much she trusted him with manhandling her. “Now, if a situation arises where I can, ‘salivate all over your breasts ,’ I will.” he says that as the bathroom blossoms with amber and vanilla, knowing that this alone will be able to get him through however long she needs before she welcomes him as a suitor, as a lover. “Until then,” she swallowed thickly, “let me start with your arm.” it wasn’t as hard to focus on taking care of her as he thought it might’ve been. Even when her other arm fell away from her breasts to clutch at the counter once he cleaned it with alcohol.
He didn’t even glance at her breasts when he bent at her ribcage, nor when she had to bend backwards for him to the bandage placed properly. His concentration waned the moment he smoothed the adhesive down on her ribcage, bringing the realization that she had freckles and beauty marks everywhere . He could feel her heartbeat beckoning him closer, could feel her breath puffing against his scalp and amber so potent he could taste it in the air. When he looked up he barely spent a second looking at her breasts, but it was enough to commit the image to memory.
Pert, round with stretch marks that he wanted to taste, and brown tits that he wanted to covet until they were pointed and hard as pearls for him. Her neck was red with a blush - her pulse beat against her skin visibly and he barely resisted the urge to run his tongue over it. He absolutely whined when her eyes were like firelight, begging him to do something even if she was unaware how enticing she was being.
“You don’t need me to take care of you,” she whispered, drawing panic and confusion from him. Did that mean she was going to abandon him? Did he overstep a boundary? “You can take care of yourself and me.” and then she was curling her hand in his hair and kissing him before he could blink. He didn’t understand, but something in Stiles had clicked when she watched him take care of her. He hadn’t tried to sneak a peek at her breasts when he cleaned the flesh wound on her ribs like anybody else would’ve. He hadn’t left any lingering traces that felt sexual, hadn’t even gotten a boner.
Peter really shouldn’t have melted into her as easy as he had but he couldn’t properly help it, not when she was kissing him so earnestly and smelling of pure want and need . Not when her skin was so cold under his hands, nor when he could feel her pebbled nipples brushing against the thin material of his shirt. He had wanted to devour her so many times, wanted to bend her until she was a part of him so many times , and now it was finally happening and he couldn’t-
“Mieczyslaw-” her name earned him a whimpered moan that had her kissing him again with a fervor that he didn’t think she had in her. Especially not when she wrapped her legs around his waist - which was easy considering he had been standing between her legs to get to her ribs - and pressed her body tight against his. “Stiles-” he tried again, groaning when he felt the smooth skin of her waist against his palms. “Stiles.” he gently, but with his full strength, moved her back and away from him, swallowing thickly against her whimper when she tried to keep their lips connected. “Stiles.” God help him but she was temptation-
“Peter! Your scars!” she shrieked, blinking hard against the haze of lust that had filled her and shattering the moment. “They’re gone!” she moved to the side so he could see in the mirror, ignorant - for the moment - of what she had just been about to do, of what they had been doing, and Peter...
Peter was staring in shock at the mirror as his scarred flesh rolled into smooth skin, returning him to how he looked before the fire. He had begun to think that the scarring would be permanent, that it had been too long ago for his body to heal it past everything else it had healed through. But Stiles, his Stiles, had healed him with a fucking kiss.
“Mieczyslaw-” and then he was kissing her with intent, fingers buried in her hair and the other holding the small of her back, shoving her against him so he could consume her. Peter was vain, he cared about how he looked, but he cared about the reason behind it more. If he looked unkempt or rough people assumed he wasn’t witty or formidable. He had used his looks to seduce his way into many agreements and into the beds of many partners, now… now he could only think about getting Maczsyz into his bed, or him into hers he didn’t care. “Pack meet, put this on.” he handed her one of his long sleeved shirts and closed his eyes tight in a desperate attempt to calm his arousal down. He was thirty six dammit, not some teenage boy who just discovered there was something better than their hands for sexual release.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled through the cotton of his shirt as she pulled it on, wincing only slightly as it pulled at her ribs and arm. “You said it wasn’t sexual and then I just… jump you. Not cool.” she wiggled a bit on the counter and worried her bottom lip between her teeth. “Okay, uhm, full disclosure, I really fucking like you.”
“I know,” was his smug, happy reply, eyes dancing with mirth while his animal howled in victory. “I really fucking like you too.” her smile was broad and happy, champagne gold dancing as they met his cobalt blue. “Pack meet, we can discuss this, us , later.”
“Okay.” she agreed, then with a wicked smirk - “I kinda dug the scars, figures you’re illegally sexy with and without them.” he actually smirked at her and moved away, dragging her with him so he could steady her when she hit the floor. “Okay, right, I’ll behave. Let’s go!” then Stiles, barefoot and smelling of both their sexual frustration and wearing his shirt, grabbed hold of his hand and urged him to follow her. He should’ve made some attempt to douse her scent or air her out somehow, but Peter was a proud man.
Mieczyslaw had shown interest in him, she had kissed him . She had pulled him closer, had somehow healed his scarring. She was wearing his shirt, her lips were swollen from his kisses, and her scent was mixed with his . His human, his Maczsyz, his . So what if he showed that off a bit in front of his pack?
“Brostopholes!” Stiles greeted jovially once they entered Derek’s loft, joy gracing her features until she saw the thunderous expression on Scott’s face and the snickers from the ‘were’s. “Why are you all looking at me like that?”
“ You were planning on killing her all along,” he hissed, his views on death and his so called ‘black and white view of the world’ coming into full perspective for everyone right then. “You never said anything about putting your life on the line!” and then he was marching up to her and pulling up the edge of her shirt to look at the bandage, knowing first hand how to properly do it. “That"s... really well done,” he murmured, then eyed her suspiciously. Knowing that, in the past, she had always insisted on fixing her own ‘boo boo’s’ until he noticed and fixed them. This was so clearly not her work that he was instantly on alert.
“Yeah, well, Peter did it.” she admitted with a shy smile, “he took care of me and doesn’t need me to take care of him.” and it was because her brother knew
exactly
what that meant that had him switching from english to Portuguese.
“He’s at least twice your age!” Stiles handled the language switch with grace and simply blinked in confusion at him. The age difference hadn’t mattered all that too much for him, but now that she was serious, now that their relationship was definitely going to develop, it was very clearly an issue that needed to be voiced. Even if it was in front of said man.
“Yes, he is.” Scott almost raged at her casual acceptance of that fact.
“You haven’t even tried dating anyone our age, Stiles, how do you know you even like older men?”
“I don’t need to have dated someone to know what I like,” was her cutting reply.
“He could end up breaking your heart!”
“Then I’d be heart broken.” another casual acceptance that had his brotherly protection going into overdrive.
“What if he doesn’t take you seriously because of your age?”
“Then I’ll just have to prove to him that he can trust my judgement.” his hands went to his hair in frustration.
“What if you’re just latching onto him, Stiles? What if what you’re feeling isn’t-”
“Isn’t real?” she cut in, eyes soft. He faltered at that, watching as she wrung her hands together. “I know what I feel. I know it might not last, I know there will be road bumps and mountains we’ll have to get over, but… but he’s it for me. He’s seen me at my best and worst and still decided I was worth something. He saw how willing I am to kill to protect my loved ones and liked it. Even if nothing comes out of it, I know what I feel for him is real, even if it’s only temporary.”
“What if he’s just latching on?” all his earlier conviction was gone in the face of her determination until all that was left was his concern for her heart. “What if he’s not as serious as you are about him? Stiles you don’t… you don’t love halfway, you love completely or not at all. What if he’s just with you because you’re convenient?” he hated the way she smiled because it showed him that she’d already thought of all this. Hated that he couldn’t do anything for his sister and hated that he hadn’t noticed her severity of attraction to Peter fucking Hale.
“Scott, we both know it’s better to have something and lose it then to be constantly lonely.” and yeah, yeah they did but this was his sister and he didn’t want to see her hurt, he didn’t want to let her go after vowing to be better. “You’ll always have me, even if you decide you don’t want me around anymore.” he was quiet at that because there was nothing he could really say. He couldn’t say ‘I’ll always want you around’ because he had just proven that he hadn"t fought for her. Sure he had thought about her, missed her, even called her a few times, but he never really tried to go out of his way to talk with her or meet with her.
“Peter, if you hurt her I’ll make you pay” he glared when Jackson and Dany both snickered, “I don’t know about joining the pack but… if I do, I’m not going to kill anyone, and I won’t help kill anyone. There has to be a better way.”
“I won’t make you kill anyone, but if you’re protecting the pack and the only way to stop the attacker is to kill them and you don"t , I’ll kill you .” that was, thankfully, as tense as the night got. It lessened even more when Scott left, leaving them to their own devices.
The next morning they woke up to Stiles cooking and dancing happily all the while trying to remain as quiet as possible, though her giggling as she did certain moves or was way off pitch wasn’t too quiet. Jackson had scoffed at her but anyone could see that he was actually touched by the sight, even more so when Danny began helping her by setting up the table, head bopping slightly to the beat.
For Derek, Peter, and Jackson the sight was alien but not an unwelcome one. Derek never remembered his mother dancing in the kitchen, or happily cooking anything. Being Alpha Hale had put a lot of stress on her and she rarely ever got to just be happy, everything was always about duty. Peter couldn’t remember ever feeling so… vulnerable by just watching people, not like he felt when Stiles was giggling and dancing as she was in a kitchen that smelled like her and pack. It was so domestic and tame, it was so innocent and pure, that he almost felt unworthy of seeing or being a part of it.
“Hey Sourwolf, Creeperwolf, and Roided Wolf!” Stiles greeted the two Hales and Jackson, grinning even as she bumped her hip against a smirking Danny. “C’mon, it’s almost done!”
“What brought this on?” Peter questioned as he and Derek moved to join them, Jackson soon following.
“Hm? Oh, I uh, I wanted to provide for the pack?” Stiles started, suddenly very hesitant in her reply. “I’ve only ever cooked in my kitchen, this is - this is nice, different but definitely nice.”
“You-” Peter chuckled, watching her with warmth in his gaze. “-you are-” and he couldn’t think of anything that sufficed just how much she meant to him. How soul tethering her very presence was to him.
“I’m pack.” she supplied, steady acceptance and the slight hesitation in her scent giving away to her unreasonable anxiety of being dropped by them.
“You’re more than pack.” he finalized. It was that single revelation that had Stiles smiling so happily that he thought she might kiss him then. It should’ve worried him, how easily he felt his resolve crumble at that dangerous - awful - perfect , smile. Mieczyslaw could get away with near anything,
“Okay, everyone. Eat!” Stiles directed once the table was set, settling beside Peter as if she were meant to. Breakfast was nice, Stiles and Derek chattered enough to make up for Jackson’s uncomfortable silence for the first ten minutes. When Danny joined in Jackson joined in, then Stiles was silent so the three of them could talk.
Peter was drawn out of his own day dreaming by a soft hand clutching at his from under the table. His human, his girl, was staring at the table with a pained happiness even though all he smelled from her was her joy. He flipped his hand over to thread their fingers together and nudged his chin at her when she turned to look at him.
“Thank you, for giving me this.” it was said soft enough that only Peter and Derek really heard it. It didn’t stop the surprise from showing on their faces.
“My darling girl,” Peter breathed, kissing the back of her hand. “This is only possible
because
of you. I
don’t
turn down praise, but I will for you sweetheart.” he turned in his chair a bit to look right at her, grinning briefly when Danny laughed at something Jackson had said. “
You
pieced everything together,
you
brought everyone together, to
me
. So when you thank
me
for giving this to you, I don’t know what you’re talking about because
you
gave this to
me
.” he sniffed and shifted in his seat. “Raving lunatic only looks good on some people, and while I’m sure I would’ve looked like a sexy villain, I prefer this ending.”
“It’s not an ending.” Stiles told him with a grin, “This is just a new chapter.” his smirk should be able to be given a warrant.
His laughter should be fucking illegal.