Arms Of A Stranger , Stiles Stilinski ³ ✓

[ 45 ] the last trip to mexico

THE LAST TRIP TO MEXICO

"YOU ARE NOT GOING TO MEXICO!"

"Dad, Scott and Kira have been kidnapped and taken to Mexico, okay?" Stiles said to his father as he and Aspen stood in his office, trying to convince him to let them go to Mexico—as he got pretty angry when Stiles snuck off last time without telling him. "I think that's a pretty good reason for a trip to Mexico!"

"Okay. Even if Deaton is right about this—" Sheriff Stilinski said as he stood over his desk, "—The best thing to do is to go through the proper channels—"

"Dad—" Stiles cut his father off.

"That means calling the right law enforcement agencies, border patrol, putting out an all-points—"

"Dad, we can't just wait around for the wheels of bureaucracy to start spinning in five different government offices, okay?" Stiles shot back, "Someone needs to go down there right now, find them, and rescue them! We're going!"

"I can keep you from going." his father said firmly.

"He'd find a way," Aspen piped up with a shrug, and Stiles pointed his finger at her and nodded in agreement.

"I can throw you in a cell!" his father added.

"He'd still find a way." Aspen shrugged again, knowing it was the truth.

"She's right—" Stiles said, pointing at her again with a nod.

"Stiles, please—" Sheriff Stilinski sighed, walking around from the desk to the middle of his office, "just give me a little more time to verify something slightly more concrete than a psychic vision by some guy with a third eye!"

"I mean..." Aspen muttered under her breath, "when you put it like that..."

"Look, I will call every law enforcement agency all the way down to South America if I have to." said Stiles' father, "If nothing turns up, then I'll book three flights to Mexico. We'll all go. Okay?"

"Okay," Stiles nodded at his dad, clasping his hands in front of him, "Okay, great. Do I get a gun?"

***

Stiles and Aspen rushed back to the McCall house in search of something to find Scott's scent by. They dashed into his room—and Stiles started to rummage through his closet, throwing shirt after shirt in Aspen's direction.

"Stiles—" Aspen objected, "these all smell like fabric softener!"

Aspen dropped all the shirts, and Stiles sighed, giving up on finding any that will actually smell of Scott's scent.

Then, Stiles' eyes gazed over to Scott's bathroom—more specifically, his dirty laundry basket. Aspen followed where he was looking—what he was thinking—and immediately shook her head.

"No, no, no—" Aspen objected dramatically as Stiles was already on his way over to it and rummaging through Scott's boxers, "Scott and I are close—but not that close!"

"Asp," Stiles said with a look, "try to remember Scott's life is on the line here—"

Aspen looked around Scott's room again, trying to find anything that would smell of Scott other than his dirty boxers which she really, really did not want to stuff in her face. Now—or ever.

And then she realised his pillow would do the trick, and she walked over to the bed, picked it up, and held it up to Stiles with her eyebrows raised.

"Yeah—I... I guess that also works."
Aspen caught Scott's scent, and then threw the pillow back on the bed, as she and Stiles rushed out of Scott's room—and ran down the stairs in a hurry.