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"Sunday!" Stiles yelled, putting his head under his pillow. His dad was banging on his bedroom door, he could already hear the water clunking through the pipes as Derek was in the shower. "It's Sunday! We get to sleep past 8 on a Sunday!"

"Stiles, get up. We're going to miss the opening."

"What opening?" Stiles said, sitting up in bed. He tried to remember if something worth getting out of bed was going on.

"State Fair." His dad said, hammering once more on the door before walking down the stairs. Stiles grinned. State Fair meant one thing – his dad never missed one. Never. They were going to be able to spend the whole day together. He launched himself out of bed and into the shower. He ran out of hot water almost as soon as he got in, but the icy water didn't seem to affect him much – his skin stayed warm to the touch even after standing under the cold spray. He could hear someone in his room, from the prickling of the hairs on the back of his neck, he assumed it was Derek.

Jumping out and turning off the water, he wrapped the fluffy towel around his waist and walked into his room. It was Derek, he was standing in the middle of the floor with damp hair and his typical black jeans and grey jumper combo. "Are you allergic to colour?" Stiles said, walking past him and pulling open his dresser drawers. Everything was arranged in colours. "Did you do this?" Stiles said, pointing to the rainbow shades. He owned a lot of red.

"Nothing you have matches." Derek said, as though that made all the sense in the world. "You are the most disorganised person I've ever met."

Stiles pulled out the green tee and matching plaid, throwing them on the bed. He could see the vein in Dereks neck throb. "I need you to call Scott." Derek said, watching as Stiles padded about the room.

"Why?" Although Scott seemed to be getting over his 'lets ignore Stiles for a month or two' phase, Stiles wasn't sure if he really wanted to forgive him just yet.

"Reevers pack is going to be at the fair, and they want to meet… everyone." Derek said, as though it hurt him to say it. "Isaac, Boyd and Erica are going to be there, but Scott needs to be there too." He paused. "And Jackson."

"And you want me to ask them." It wasn't a question.

"Yes."

"Are you making breakfast?"

"Maybe."

"I want pancakes," Stiles said. "A whole stack to myself. Then I'll call them."

Stiles and his dad were walking around the field that had been transformed into the biggest event within traveling distance of Beacon Hills. He loved the fair, the sounds, the people – the rides. Derek had taken Isaac and Boyd in his car, Erica had arrived with her parents (who seemed utterly thrilled that Erica was now apparently better and had a core group of friends). Jackson had arrived, much to Stiles surprise, seemed more than willing to show face at what could be a really awkward meeting. Scott had agreed, although he didn't sound too happy about it over the phone.

His dad had stood and talked to Erica's parents, they had gone to school together and spent some time talking about the lacrosse match.

"I hope you don't mind Erica being late out last night." His dad said, "When I arrived they were half asleep watching TV in the living room." He glanced over at them with a grin. "Gotta say, when I was their age eating takeaway and watching TV isn't exactly what I'd be doing if I had the house to myself on a Saturday night!"

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