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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.

   Group two was Lois, Isaac, Scott and Allison — the group that were currently about to raid through Argent's belongings in hope of doing the same as group one, and to potentially find things that could prove useful in the upcoming — and inevitable — battle. It always came down to a battle these days, and despite not feeling a fight right now, Lois had gone in group two as to serve as an extra hand. All Lois wanted to do was sit down, watch a movie, and for this nightmare to be over by the time she woke up. But this wasn't a dream; it wasn't one of the nightmares Lois often had. Because, while they were terrible, she would wake up from them and her life would be normal. Eventually, Lois would wake up and it would be as if nothing awful had ever even happened. This time, however, it wouldn't be any different. This time, Lois wouldn't wake up to find the world just as she had left it.

   This wasn't a dream.

   So, Lois went with group two. If they wanted to bring as many supplies as they could, then they would need another set of arms. Scott and Isaac could do the sniffing while Allison and Lois could deal with weaponry, and they would link up with group one at the preserve, promptly.

   The dynamic for group three was a little... strange. Strange in the respect that it consisted of Ethan, Lydia and Peter Parker. Strange, since Ethan had thought Peter Parker to be dead.

   There hadn't been all too much time to explain it, and it really must have been a nasty shock when he saw Peter sitting beside his cousin's friends with a bloodstained shirt but otherwise totally alive and not how Deucalion and Kali once left him, but the alpha twin just seemed to be real satisfied with the fact his closest friend wasn't dead. All of the juicy details could wait. There were bigger fish to fry, right now.

   It was only a matter of time before Deucalion and his pack were to find out that Peter wasn't dead. Ethan seemed like the best place to start. After all, Peter's help would prove useful if they went up against Aiden and Kali. They had seen the witch in action plenty of times, but none of those times had been against them. Peter said they had a big storm coming, and Lois didn't doubt him one bit. It was especially effective when he and Ethan had shared this smirk, as if they knew something everybody else didn't — which they did, in that nobody else had seen Peter Parker fight. Only Ethan. It was all very suspenseful, and actually kinda cool.

   When had her cousin gotten cool?

    "What about me?" Isaac asked, referencing what there was for him to use to sniff out Chris Argent and make their hunt for their parents easier than relying on pure memory. Memory was strong, but Isaac hoped his senses were stronger. He'd been getting better.

    "See what you can find in my dad's closet," Allison told him as though he knew where her father's closet was, but he didn't find it an appropriate time to correct her. In fact, right now was a really awful time to correct her. "Find anything with a strong scent," she instructed as she continued down the hallway.

   Nodding, Isaac branched off in search of Argent's room while Lois followed Allison.

   She wasn't entirely sure where they were going, but Lois could only assume that it was somewhere with a lot of weapons. They'd need them if they encountered Jennifer and if they planned to get their parents to safety. Lois wasn't defenceless when it came to her fighting ability, nor were the werewolves down the hall, but she'd been told more than once that she was nifty with a crossbow. And, seeing as Argent had once told her in a call over the summer that a hunter could never have too many tricks riding up their sleeve, she figured it best to listen for a change.

   Allison pushed open the door to Argent's office and Lois swiftly followed in after her, only for them both to fall to a stop when they noticed the men at Chris' desk.

   She knew those men.

    "Quite an arsenal your father's got here, young lady."

   Lois groaned, quietly.

McCall.

   She had briefly forgotten about Scott's father being back in town and naturally assuming that he could take Noah's position, and be in charge while he was missing. If anyone was going to put a dent in their plan and waste their precious time, it was going to be him.

    "Great," she muttered with a scowl.

    "Lois?" Agent McCall stood up, his face falling solemn when a certain boy followed in after them. "Scott..."

    For a moment, Scott was speechless. Totally speechless. Not even one word in his brain. No tangible thoughts. Nothing.

   He hadn't seen his father in an awfully long time. Perhaps much longer than any kid should go without seeing their father, and even though Stiles had delivered him the news of his reappearance into Beacon, he still couldn't believe the man was stood in front of him: looking surprised and horrifically disappointed— which, Scott was sure was majorly hypocritical seeing as his father had only gone and failed his childhood self in every aspect that had wished for a dad. And now, he was back. Just like that. At possibly the worst of all the awful times he could have chosen to pop up? out of the blue. Scott didn't have time to deal with this. Not now. Not when his mother and his friends fathers needed him, not when everyone was relying on him to fix everything, not when his heart was still hurting from the several years he'd endured of a very broken family. Scott didn't have time to reconcile with the man over an interrogation — that's what was happening, after all, wasn't it?

    "What're you doing, here?" He asked, bluntly.

   McCall's face fell, further.

    "Following one of the only leads I have," he gnawed on his lip, frustrated. "Now since I don't know where you've been, why don't you have a seat? We can talk," he glanced amongst the trio of kids and then tilted his head back to call into the hallway, or any places that the other one possibly might be. "You too, Isaac."

   Confused, and already bored of this altercation, Isaac stepped in on the picture and appeared at the doorway. He looked at the man with curiosity, "How do you know my name?"

    "Your name's one of the few things, I do know."

    "That's vague," Lois quipped.

   McCall's eyes flitted back to her, narrowing into slits, and she'd the most profound suspicion that he was already sick of her before she had even got started.

    "I'd like you to take a seat first, Lane." Rafael gestured to the seat that was closest to the desk. "Keep an eye on this one, boys."

   She scowled and folded her arms. There was no way in hell this man was going to tell her what to do. Lois didn't like him, and she knew her father didn't like him, nor did Stiles and his father, and it seemed the same Scott and Melissa. Rafael McCall was a piece of work. It was a mutual agreement not to like him; like being part of an exclusive club that was strictly for all the people who didn't like Rafael McCall.

   When one of the officers straightened his belt and took steps in her direction, Lois narrowed her eyes and pointed at him with her frown getting increasingly deep. She knew him. He was one of the officers who didn't really like the fact her and Stiles always got out of the trouble they often found themselves in.

   Michaels.

Michaels happened to be the first of many officers to have been blessed with the pleasure of catching Lois and Stiles going against the law, and giving them their first ever ride to the station that was from someone other than their fathers. He was also the first to raise an issue with the fact that the two delinquents often got let off by the sheriff scot-free. There weren't many of them who really had a problem, seeing as the kids never did anything bad enough to have actually warranted legal action (until recently, with kidnapping one of their fellow high school students, stealing prison vans and being dished with restraining orders) but Michaels hadn't really let it go. Instead, he only seemed to grow angrier about it over the years. It was no surprise to her that he had become so well acquainted with Rafael McCall. Lois told him to lighten up, once. She thought that he was going to risk his gun and badge just so he could strike her in the head for it. Honest to god.

So, when he made a move towards her, Lois took an eager step back until she bumped into Isaac's chest.

    "Tell roast beef to stand down," she warned Rafael.

   He raised a hand in signal for the man to stop and nodded in a sick satisfaction when Lois shuffled over to the seat, and threw her body into it. He hadn't expected her to cooperate so easily. He'd a feeling it was the lack of Stilinski in the room.

    "To be honest, the rest of what's going on around here has me stumbling in the dark." Rafael shrugged his shoulders as he sent a blank look to his son, meanwhile Isaac glared at the officer who'd been ready to manhandle Lois into her chair. He was struggling to keep himself composed, especially when Scott's dad seemed to be so freaking ignorant that it made him want to rip out his eyes. Even though he'd only known Scott a short while, he hadn't expected an asshole for his father figure. Then again, he supposed that was why Melissa had divorced him. Maybe Isaac and Scott were even more alike than he had thought. Rafael continued to speak; "Even over the smallest of clues."

    "If you're tryna tell me that you don't have a clue, I learnt that a long time ago." Scott sassed.

   Lois rose a brow, somewhat impressed.

    "I'm really hoping to avoid the embarrassment of dragging my own son to an interrogation room," sighing, Rafael made sure his tone oozed with disappointment. Not that he even deserved to be disappointed in his son — not when he was the disappointment of a father. His son was saving their town while his father thought he could boss him about after years of absent parenting.

    "Really hoping." He repeated.

    "Yeah? Well, maybe hope for world peace while you're at it," as she spoke, Lois shot daggers at the guard standing right behind her.

   He was a heavy breather and at one point she had been close to recommending that he see a doctor for that mouth-breathing issue he appeared to have going on, as the three other teens were forced into seats, to which the man had given her a really nasty look.

    "At least get a breath mint, dude." She muttered.

   Isaac, who had found himself situated on the arms of Lois and Scott's chairs, lazily searched his pockets for something and soon presented a packet of chewing gum. He reached over Lois and to the officer, smiling tauntingly; "Want one?"

   He just glared.

    "Fine," Isaac shrugged, "Suit yourself." He emptied one into his hand and popped it into his mouth, "Girl only wanted you to have a mint."

   When the man didn't accept the offered gum — not that Isaac was going to give it to him now, seeing as he was totally rude and he didn't give gum to rude people other than himself — the two teenagers turned back to face Scott's father as he paced around as if he were the sheriff. Which, he wasn't. Because the sheriff was a good man, Stiles' father, who was currently a missing person, and Rafael McCall couldn't even dream of coming close to Stilinski. He had tried and failed, several times. But, he did look angry. Rafael looked incredibly angry, and ready to launch into a reprimand he wasn't in any position to give. He only thought he was because he was playing detective. It was a boring act, if you asked Lois. She'd already grown tired of it and put her palm out, taking the piece of gum Isaac supplied her with.

   She chewed at it with disinterest.

    "I'm not gonna lie," Rafael clicked his tongue. "I'm more than a little disturbed. Not only by the number of missing parents, but by the fact that it's Stiles's father, two of your father's," he looked at his son, "And your mother."

   Isaac peered around and raised his hand.

    "Mine are both dead."

   Agent McCall rolled his eyes, "Save the clichéd teenage apathy for your high school teachers." His comment was unnecessary in Lois' eyes, and she fought the urge to tell him that Isaac's parents really were dead, and to be more considerate to a sixteen year old boy who was orphaned. "The four of you know more than you're saying, and I'm fully willing to keep you here all night if I have to."

The thought being there all night sounded dramatic and pretty unnecessary, not to mention the fact that they had better places to be than trapped in Argent's office.

Better things mainly consisting of saving their parents before it was too late and they were all orphans, and Scott was forced to live with his loser-cop of a father.

   If they could have told Rafael that... actually, scratch that. None of that was something Lois would have told that man. Even if she could, even if he begged them to. Nothing about Rafael deserved to know that while he was playing cop, they were trying to save people. He could stay out of it.

    "I actually don't have all night," Lois said. "So, if we could just speed this up? That'd be great. It was nice talking to you—"

   As she stood up, a pair of hands landed on her shoulders and pushed her back down. Lois smacked them off her, and made a note to tell her father and Noah that officer roast beef had made an awful habit of manhandling her where it wasn't required. She hoped he would be gone by the next time she entered the station. Actually, she would make sure of it.

   She snapped, "Don't touch me, pork chop!"

    "You're not going anywhere, Lois." Rafael assured.

   She rose a brow, "Wanna bet?"

   Carelessly, the man ignored her words. Lois sank in her chair in childish fashions, catching sight of the two werwolves on her right giving the officer looks that could probably kill.

   Lois smirked.

   Don't piss off teen wolves.

    "You can't keep us, here." Scott spoke up.

    "Not without some kinda warrant," Allison agreed, which had Lois grimacing. She wished they knew the law as well as she and Stiles did.

    "Oh, really?" Having noticed the look on her face, Rafael let a chuckle pass his lips. He looked at the daughter of Matthew Lane and vaguely wondered whether she would head into a life of law once high school was over. Hopefully not; she would run almost as rampant as Stiles. "Wanna tell them, Lois? Or, should I?"

   Her friends all faced her, confused as to what he was on about, but they knew it couldn't be good when Lois puckered her lips and sucked on her teeth. It was safe to say that the girl was a lawyer in the making, even if she didn't necessarily have the ambition to be; with her father in the business, her uncle figure being sheriff, and a best friend who could recite the law better than he could spell his real name, it was only natural for Lois to be just as knowledgeable as every law enforcement worker within that very room. Lois had occasionally wished she hadn't watched so many crime shows as a kid. It was rare, but it happened from time to time. Now happened to be one of those times.

    "He doesn't need a warrant," she told them, lamely. Her eyes flickered to the table of weaponry they had found laid out as if it were a buffet. "He's got a table of probable cause."

If it were legal to punch cops, Lois probably would have served herself a mean right hook to Rafael's ugly, smug face. But, again, Lois was as clued in about the law as any teenager could get. That was one she was unlikely to worm her way out of, considering that the two people who would usually help her out of it were missing, and likely dead if they didn't find a way to get Scott's father to shove off and let them go.

   For once, Lois had no good ideas.

Lucky for them, however, Allison Argent did.

   Thank god!

"My father is a highly respected private security consultant and federally licensed firearms dealer." Her explanation was long and detailed, perhaps more than it needed to be, but it certainly gained the agent's attention just as she hoped it would. It also gained the attention of the two officers surrounding them, as well as her three friends. They shared a confused look and then turned back to the, now standing, girl while she belittled Scott's father with an innocent smile. "That means he has to own a few weapons."

She pretended to mull over them for a second. When the second had ended, eyes raking over the table, Allison pointed at one with a lengthy name. The more time she had in distracting them before she pulled her stunt, the better. Allison needed them to be listening to her, loud and clear.

"Like this one hundred and seventy-five pound draw tactical crossbow," the words smoothed like butter.

Allison then pointed at another.

    "Or, this carbon steel marine combat knife."

   She continued to list and label the weapons that laid upon the table, and McCall lapped it up. Perhaps he was a little impressed.

"Fifty AE desert eagle," she tapped it.

When she reached the metal canister, Allison hummed under her breath and acted clueless as to what was inside. She tapped it lightly, brows furrowed, and it was believable confusion. Then the girl let out a small sound that signalled she remembered; "Smoke grenade with pull ring igniter..."

Smoke grenade?

Before she could blink, Lois watched Allison tug the ring in one fluid motion, and toss the canister at Scott's father with admirable precision and force.

   The man jumped back in surprise, checking that he hadn't been harmed, still yet to realise the full extent of what the daughter of Chris Argent had just done. Turns out— so were Scott, Isaac and Lois, all of whom sat with wide eyes and gaping jaws that brushed against the carpeted floor. Not even a third of them could believe what they had just witnessed. But, the first to escape their daze was Isaac, and he released a breathy laugh as he watched Allison dash past them and towards the door while shouting an urgent go!

   She didn't have to tell him twice.

A plume of smoke erupted from behind the desk and in no time Rafael McCall and the guard at his left side were both spluttering. Lois wondered whether he had choked on his own pride, and that was what really had the man wheezing.

Scott quickly followed behind Allison, and Isaac hauled Lois up from her seat and ushered her to mirror their actions. She did as told until she didn't: stopping in her step and spinning on her heel as if she was going to sit down, again. Lois didn't sit down. Rather, she ran back over to officer Michaels and stomped on his foot with a forceful blow. He gasped and sucked in, thus filling his lungs with a drag of smoke, and his intended profanities formed into a cough so loud that it hurt their ears.

"Eat that!"

Isaac barked a laugh and reached for her hand, and then swiftly pulled her out of the room just as the smoke reached them.

   They didn't stop running, even after leaving the apartment and making it down the street.

   They didn't stop holding hands, either.

——