♡ 𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 ♡
𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯

 fashionable forensics

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

DALLAS, LYDIA, AND ALLISON all stood along the escalator as shopping bags hung from their arms. "Nothing's wrong, I just have a lot on my mind." The Argent hummed silently as Dallas gave her best friend a suspicious look.

"You look like you're about to break into song, sweetheart," she smirked. "I can read you like a book, come on, what's wrong?"

"It might have something to do with the fact that you made out with my ex-boyfriend."

Lydia tried to cover up her snicker and cleared her throat. "Okay, Judge Judy, first of all - that's not what happened and you know it." she frowned. "I can't believe you think that I'd ever do that to you."

The brunette threw her a sympathetic look. "Plus, I'm buying you a dress." She tutted. "You could at least ease up on the bitter comments."

Ally rolled her eyes and linked arms with the brunette as they reached the next floor of the shopping center. "Now, my theme is Hollywood Glamour, but what did you have in mind?-

"Do you even have a date?" Lydia spoke up as the curly-haired Latina rolled her eyes.

"No Date, but Danny is my escort." she buzzed. The two young women shared a knowing look, which she noticed and cleared her throat at. "Hello?" she sang. "It's the twenty-first century, ladies. Where's my feministic support?"

They approached an excessively bright shopping store while the Garcia pulled Allison to the formal section. The held them up in front of the Argent's body while tutting. "None of this is right." she noted as Lydia rummaged through the dresses next to her.

She hummed in agreement and pulled out a pair of dresses for the huntress to try on. What the girls didn't notice, however, was Peter Hale observing from afar. Lydia pulled the Argent to a changing room as Dallas continued to search for herself. She had no clue what Danny's suit looked like, but she trusted his fashion taste enough to know he would screw it up. The Latina pulled out an orange, slim strapless dress and examined it.

She jumped in her skin as the voice behind her stole her from her thoughts. "That's not your colour." Peter Hale hummed, taking a glance at it as she spun around. "Sorry if that was intrusive, but considering your skin tone, I'd go darker."

"Huh," she took another glimpse at it before placing it back on the rack. "Do you work here or something?"

He chuckled. "No, I just wanted to help a pretty girl pick her dress." He then took her hand and placed it beside the fabric of another dress. "Do you mind?" he gave her a sadistic smile. "See? Much better."

Stiles was non-suspiciously fumbling with the perfume rack as he glanced at the Garcia. He hummed but then took a second, concerned look as he saw her chatting with the Alpha. "Shit."

He signalled Scott, who was keeping an eye out for Allison as they both partook in a curious but worried look. What would the Alpha want with Dallas?

"Dallas!" Lydia called from the dressing rooms. "Come zip me up!"

The brunette cursed and gave a polite smile to the man. "Thanks for the tip, I - uh, I gotta go."

He watched her leave as chaos swirled in his brown eyes. He had a plan - and somehow, it included Dallas, or so, the absence of Dallas.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Dallas Garcia dragged the tube of lipgloss across her lips as her father cocked a brow at her from the doorway. She ruffled her hair and clipped her headpiece in place. It was a bedazzled net that hung over her eyes and nose, which sparkled under the light. "I don't need to scare any boys tonight, do I?"

She chuckled and placed the lipgloss in her clutch. "No, Its just Danny. He offered to escort me."

"What about the guys at the formal? I don't have a shotgun, but I can sue them-"

Dallas rolled her eyes and straightened the fabric of her dress. "You don't need to scare anyone. I can take care of myself, Dad, I'm a big girl now."

He took a simple look at her and sighed. "I know, I just wish you weren't." he brought her in for a hug. "And you look beautiful by the way." he placed his hands on her shoulder. "Just like your mother."

Her exterior softened as her eyes became glossy. "Hey, no crying. That's my job."

The two were cut off as the doorbell rang. They both widened their eyes before the brunette grabbed her black feather boa and draped it behind her arms. "Its Danny, I gotta go!"

"Have fun!" James called out to his daughter as she rushed down the stairs. "And call me when you get there!"

Dallas swung open the door as he gasped at the Latina supportively. "There she is, Beacon Hill's very own fashion icon!"

She giggled and linked her arm with his as they approached her car. "Did you hear about Jackson taking Allison to the dance?" the Māhealani mumbled to the girl, opening the door of his vehicle for her.

The Latina sat in the passenger seat and blew out a breath. "Like you would not believe. I'm just surprised that Lydia is so cool with it." she gossiped with her best friend as he started the engine.

"Something tells me that this night is gonna be an interesting one." he sighed sarcastically as he backed out from her driveway.

"Oooh, I hope so!"

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Beacon Hills High was lit up to the heavens with fairy lights, projectors, and mood lamps as dolled-up students poured into the highschool. Jackson pulled up to the school and parked his Porsche before pulling out a flask of vodka and taking a swig. He hissed at its intensity and offered some to his date.

"I'm good, thanks." Allison grinned awkwardly.

He gave her a dumbfounded look. "You want to do tonight sober?"

"I wouldn't mind remembering some of it." she sarcastically commented, turning her head to him.

Jackson huffed, taking another sip. "Yeah, well, I wouldn't mind forgetting all of it."

He moved to climb out of the sportscar but the brunette caught his attention. "Do you know if Scott's coming?"

"I know he's not allowed to," he stated. "Academic probation." The Whittmore commented before climbing out of the vehicle and not bothering to grab the door for the Argent. He stood beside his car and downed the last of the vodka. Coincidentally, Stiles Stilinski's jeep pulled into the parking lot.

Lydia Martin sat in his passenger's seat. He had asked her on a whim, but due to her unfortunate break from Jackson, she surprisingly said yes.

Allison sat in the Porsche alone, hyping herself up in the car mirror. "Smile, Allison." she pushed it back up, "Somebody could be falling in love with your.." She trailed off as she saw Scott McCall sneak his way across the roof of the building, decked out in an old suit. She grinned and giggled slightly before exiting the vehicle.

Danny's vehicle pulled up last. "Oh, god, are you ready?"

Dallas snickered. "It's a formal, not the SATS, we'll be fine." she grinned before stepping out the vehicle with the Māhealani. They tangled their arms together and approached the highschool.

The two glared at Jackson, who sent them a bitter look from his vehicle. Danny wasn't talking to the boy either, especially since Dallie had filled him in on the drama that erupted in the hallways not days before - oh, and to gloat about her clever insults.

"You know, Danny, whenever I lose hope about the male population," she mused, "I think about you and it makes me feel a lot better."

"And whenever I have hope for the female population," he shot back, "I think about you and feel a lot better."

She playfully smacked his arm and grinned. "You make me sound like a monster."

He nudged her shoulder. "You know what they say, The Devil wears Prada." he commented before they slowly drowned in the neon lights and fashionable crowd.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Inside the gymnasium, Scott McCall hid behind the bleachers and scanned the crowd for his ex-girlfriend. All hope was lost until he spotted Peter Hale staring at him from the crowd, which made his hope dwindle even more. He squinted his eyes to get a better look, but the Alpha had vanished.

Scott climbed the stairs of the bleachers and searched through the crowd again and finally set eyes on a bored-looking Argent swaying in the crowd. Jackson gripped the flask next to her and ignored her presence. Meanwhile, Stiles and Lydia seemed to be having a pity parade of their own at their table.

Unlike the others, Dallas and Danny couldn't stop giggling at the table they were positioned at as the Latina made her usual observant comments. "Jackson has been here a whole five minutes and already spiked the punch bowl." she hissed as Danny snickered at her bitterness. "I give it an hour before somebody gets puked on."

Lydia rose from her seat as another lacrosse player offered her a dance. Stiles sat pouting in at his empty table before he took a glance at the Māhealani and Garcia behind him.

He fought back his insecure thoughts and stood up, walking over to their table. Their conversation stopped abruptly as she glanced up at him. "Hey, Stiles." she grinned. "Lydia left you in the cold, huh?"

"Yeah." he nodded, throwing his hands awkwardly in his pockets. "But im not here to talk about Lydia," Stiles commented confidently.

"Oh?" Dallas quirked a brow at him as hid behind his red party cup.

"Would you like to dance with me?"

He noticed her silence and stuttered. "Well - I - you don't have to.. nevermind, it was stupid-" He turned to leave but froze at the sound of her voice.

She cocked her head at the boy and let a small grin takeover her neutral expression. "I'd love to dance with you, Bilinski." she poked fun at Coach Finstock's mispronunciation.

She grabbed his hand and led him to the dancefloor. Stiles fist-bumped the air which caused the McCall to grin for his best friend from the bleachers. His grin soon faded as he noticed Finstock yelling his way.

"McCall!" He pointed, pushing through the crowd. "I see you! Come here, buddy?"

He darted from the bleachers and hid behind the other students. "It's a small gym, buddy!" Coach yelled as he lost him in the plethora of students. "Im gonna find you!"

Allison noticed from afar and couldn't help but giggle at the sight of him dodging the Coach. He ran up to Dallas' and Danny's table and pleaded in front of the Māhealani.

"Danny, dance with me!"

"What? No." The boy knitted his eyebrows at the co-captain.

"Please!" He pleaded once again, pulling him up from his seat. "Right now, come on!" The McCall placed his arms around his neck and swayed suspiciously with him.

Coach Finstock reached the pair and yelled out, causing all eyes to shoot to him. "McCall! You're not supposed to.." he trailed off. "What the hell are you.."

The band on stage had fallen silent and all eyes were on Finstock. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Yes, coach?" McCall took advantage of all the shocked stares and glances while readjusting his arms on Danny's shoulder.

"Okay.." Finstock chuckled nervously. "Hold on, you... I was just saying that he's not supposed to.. I mean, I wasn't saying that he shouldn't.." he gestured to the two boys. "You guys don't think... You don't... I.. I was." he let out an audible sigh of defeat. "Just dance, everybody! Just dance! Its a dance!" He backed away from the lacrosse players as the music began to resume.

"Thanks, dude. I owe you." he beamed to Danny before bolting in the other direction.

Dallas tittered at the scene before turning back to Stiles, who held a mesmerizing look in his eyes. "McCall is creative, I'll give him that."

She noticed his stare and felt a blush spread across her nose and cheeks. "What?"

He cleared his throat. "Uh, nothing... you just look really pretty tonight," he mumbled as he spun her around. She gave him a surprised look and hummed.

"Wow, who knew Stilinski had a few tricks under his cufflinks?" she mused as he chuckled.

"Yeah, you better watch out or ill steal your spot on the cheer team."

"Take it, we can trade." She hummed they swayed to the soft, whimsical music. "I'd totally rock your jersey."

He cleared his throat as he imagined her wearing it - and to be fair, she wasn't wrong. "You know, Stiles, you can put your hands on my waist. Im not going to bite," she commented as his hands were stuck on her back.

"No, but you might slap me." He poked fun at her while she rolled her eyes playfully. "Scott told me about what he did - and he apologizes."

"Consider it forgotten." she crinkled her nose and twirled once more. "It's a shame you missed your first game, you know, cause I was super excited to cheer for you." she grinned as his eyes widened.

"Wait, really?"

"Mhm." she nodded. "You might just be my new favourite player."

She noticed the man she saw from the store stand in the doorway behind her, cocking his head to gesture her to follow him. "Uh, I'll be right back," she mumbled to Stiles, sliding her hands away from his chest and heading for the exit. He stammered over his sentences, but nevertheless, he let her go.

She followed the mysterious figure out to the lacrosse field, brushing her hands up against the goosebumps that arose on her arms. "Hey, wait!"

The man had disappeared within an instant. Eerily, all the headlights began to turn on - one by one.

The Latina cautiously flickered her eyes to each headlight, her breath illuminating in the cold atmosphere.

"Hello?"

She squinted her eyes at the figure that stood between the headlights. "Who's there?"

Peter Hale approached her, his long leather jacket swinging behind him as he walked.

"Dallas!" Stiles yelped from behind her, running at full speed and his blazer pulled from his shoulders.

She turned her head to Peter, who had his fangs extended and his eyes gleaming blood-red. He dug his fangs into her neck and watched as the crimson blood spilled down her glittery dress and poured profusely from her neck. It stained her neck and chest while clasping on to her hazel hair strands. Stiles threw himself to the floor next to her but backed away as Peter Hale hunched protectively her, like a predator with its fresh kill.

"Please... Please.." Stiles sobbed out. "Don't kill her."

But his pleads were too little too late, the girl's heart had already come to a standstill. "Oops." the Alpha mocked his concern and leaned against his ear. "Now, unless you want to be next, you'll tell me how to find Derek Hale."

"I don't know that." he cried out, his eyes trained on Dallie's lifeless body. "How would I even know that?

"Because you're the clever one, aren't you?" he mocked, the Latina's blood spilling from his lower lip. "And because deception has a particularly acrid scent, Stiles... Tell me the truth, or you and your friends are next."

"I-... I think he knew-"

"Knew what?"

"Derek." he choked out. "I think he knew he was gonna be caught."

"By the Argents?"

Stiles nodded.

"And?"

The Stilinski swallowed harshly. "When they were shot, he and Scott.. I think he took Scott's phone."

The man sent him a frustrated look. "Why?"

"So if he still has it.. and if its still on.. " he shook with rage. "You can find him."

The Alpha swiftly disappeared. Once he did, he pulled Dallas close to his chest and held his thumb over her wrist. He noticed the absence of her pulse and panicked miserably.

"No.. no, no, no." He attempted to resuscitate her with his palms, but it was of no use. "No, Dallie, come on." he pounded his hands harder on her chest. After a few moments of horrid realisation, he dropped his head into her bloodied chest.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and messily dialed against the numbers. It rang silently for a few moments as he yelled out frustratingly.

"Stiles?"

"Scott, I need help!" He cried. "It's Dallas.. I think she's dead."

☆ word count: 2,815. ☆