《duodécima luna. [a stiles fanfic]》ocho.

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She walked across the ice, not even slipping in the slightest despite the fact that it was ice and she was wearing Nike Cortez sneakers.

Stiles had been sitting with Lydia, trying to be subtle in his Opposites Attract speech that he'd been rehearsing with Scott the ride over. His best friend had been such a pal, properly ignoring him and thinking too much about everything else and, of course, the fact that he was going to see Allison.

The couple had been acting all lovey dove when Lydia had suddenly and surprisingly agreed with Stiles on his Opposites Attract idea, making his heart speed up.

The Lydia looked at Scott and Allison and said how cute they were.

Oh.

His heart had just began to slow down when the doors opened and a hooded figure began walking in. However, Stiles' heart wasn't beating fast because of fear. It was the fact that Violeta Rodriguez had actually agreed to come. He saw her, wearing the same track pants as earlier today but now paired with a bright orange hoodie and a large puffy jacket. Her hair was done in two long braids.

One of which was being played with by the small child in her hands.

A small girl who had the same ethnic features as Violeta; olive skin, black hair and beautiful green eyes. However, the small girl had one mop of curly hair that bounced around her face. She looked pre-school age and Stiles floundered for a second.

"HI!" The child said in a loud voice, waving at everyone when she realised there were four other teens. "I'm Lola!"

"What are you doing here?" Lydia said in a voice that clearly showed her agitation. Violeta rolled her eyes, putting Lola down as the child ran off to Scott and Allison, asking who they were and how old they were and if they were married and what was their favourite food.

"Stiles invited me and my little cousin loves to skate so..." Violeta said quite smug. Lydia then turned on Stiles who became a deer in headlights. He stammered - as per usual - then held his hands up.

"I-I-I-I-I, uh, said if she was free... we-we, uh, we would be here and she could come here if she had nothing better to do." Stiles said, trying to appease Lydia... and pissing Violeta off in the process. She cooled her features, showing nothing. Nothing about how Stiles dismissal and denial of outright inviting her. So, she crossed her arms and scoffed.

Stiles had the good decency to realise his fault before Violeta turned around. He heard her say something in Spanish to Lola who left Allison's lap and bounced after her, waving a goodbye to Allison and Scott. The child followed Violeta as she lifted her up to the bench and went around to find her size shoe. Scott and Allison finally stood up and went to the rink and Stiles watched as his best friend took his first step on the ice.

And slipped to land face first.

The sound of bubbling laughter filled the rink as everyone turned to look at the small child sat, a finger pointing at Scott as she leaned back in laughter. "He fell! Leta he fell! What a dumbo!"

"Yeah!" Stiles yelled out. "Dumbo!" Scott met eyes with Stiles who was still sitting, tying his shoes and gave him an unimpressed look. Allison helped him up and Stiles turned to the girl next to him to find that Lydia had already left him, skating like a pro around the rink. She looked like she was in her own world, doing a few spins here and there. Stiles sighed and decided to make his way over to Violeta to see if he could repair any damage done.

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He paused when he saw Violeta bend down on her knees to tie up her cousin's shoelaces. While she was doing so, Lola played with her hair again, pulling at the two braids. It made Stiles falter, seeing a girl with such a hard reputation being at the mercy of a small child.

"I'm hungry." Lola complained.

"I made you pasta." Violeta said. "Which you didn't eat because you said it was too hot and you weren't hungry anymore."

"Yeah but I'm hungry now."

Violeta stopped to look up at Lola and blow a strand of hair out of her face. Lola placed her whole palm on Violeta's face. "I'll get you something later." The elder girl said.

"But I'm hungry now." Lola whined.

"I'll get you ice-cream later."

"Okay!" Lola said, face brightening up at the prospect of her favourite food. Stiles chuckled at how quickly the toddler changed her mind. "Pistachio!" Lola remarked.

"Two scoops with chocolate sprinkles." Violeta added, standing up. She placed a small kiss on the child's forehead. "I know." Stiles' mouth fell slightly open at seeing how... affectionate Violeta really was.

"I wanna go. I wanna go." Lola said, holding out her arms. "I wanna go play with Scott!" Violeta grabbed Lola and began walking over, frowning when she saw Stiles standing there.

"You came here to be with Lydia, Stiles." Violeta said, turning her back to him as she walked toward the rink. "Shouldn't you be with her?" Stiles followed and opened his mouth to respond but was cut off when Lola gasped. She turned to face him over Violeta's shoulder and stared at him with a wide mouth.

"Stiles!" She said, pointing a finger at him, like she knew who he was.

"Uh, yeah." The boy awkwardly responded. "Hi, Lola." This however just caused Lola to turn and tap Violeta's face repeated with one hand as she pointed at Stiles with the other.

"This is Stiles!"

"Yes, Lola, this is Stiles." Violeta said with a sigh. Then she added something in Spanish and Lola's excitement wore off as she frowned and pursed her lips. The younger child responded in Spanish and when Violeta nodded her head, Lola's bottom one jutted out.

Stiles made a mental note to start paying more attention in Spanish class.

And maybe start researching some Catalan as well. Who knows?

"Come, let's go play with dumbo." Violeta said as Scott fell down once more. Lola's face lit up and she hit Violeta's shoulder repeatedly to let her go. Nearing the entry, Violeta set Lola down and the child expertly took off the cloth covers of the blades before speeding off.

"You're it!" She said, hitting Allison's leg before dashing away. Allison giggled and looked at Violeta before following after the small girl. They skated across the rink, bringing Violeta's attention to Lydia who had just finished a series of jetés on ice, spinning perfect circles that would probably qualify her for the Olympics.

"Damn, she's good." Stiles muttered in awe behind her. Violeta didn't look at him as she sat up on the bench of the opening to the rink.

"What are you still doing here Stiles?"

"I'm, uh—" He was lucky he cut off before saying sorry because she seriously would have punched him. However, when Stiles ran off to his bag, Violeta couldn't help but glance as he awkwardly hurried his was over in skates to his backpack... then awkwardly made his way back as he opened it to rummage through and pull out an orange packet of Reese's peanut butter cups. He held it out to her, the apology all to clear.

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Violeta refused to let herself smile as she took the packet.

"I was talking about Lola." He said. She raised an eyebrow, not getting what he meant. "About her being good. She's better than me. Definitely better than Scott." He paused. "She's probably better than all of us." He said, watching the young girl skate between Allison's legs and spin right to tap Scott 'it' then dash off again.

"She skated before she walked." Violeta said. "Don't ask me how. She's like that." He laughed and Violeta pursed her lips. "Go to her."

"Lola? Hey, why was she so-"

"Lydia." Violeta interrupted as she spoke over him, cutting off that progression of conversation and reminding the freckled boy why he was even here. "I only came tonight because of Lola. Consider me invisible as you try to woo your soulmate." Then she propelled herself off the bench and walked away, leaving Stiles and trusting Allison and Scott enough to look after Lola — who, really, could look after herself — and went to the back to search for evidence against Antonio Sebastian.

-

Boyd rolled over on his bed to pick up his ringing his phone.

"Hello?"

"What's the security code for the cameras?" Came the straight demands from Violeta Rodriguez. Boyd bolted up, completely taken aback by who was on the phone. He paused for a moment and looked to see that lack of Caller ID. He couldn't recall ever giving her his number yet here she was, on the phone. Talking to him.

"Yo. Boyd." Her voice sounded from his crap excuse for a mobile phone. Boyd rushed to bring it back to his ear and get around his surrounding and bearings on the situation.

"It's, uh, sorry. Just a sec." He gave her the numbers before he heard the tapping of a keyboard the ding which let it in.

"Tell me about a memorable shift you had with Antonio Sebastian?" She asked. Boyd's lips twitched at how she worded her question.

"Tuesday night." He replied. He heard more tapping of keyboard keys and then some mouse clicking. There was some silence and then mutterings in Spanish.

"Right. Well then." Violeta said. "Thanks Boyd. Let me know if you ever need anything."

"Just, uh, make sure that Stiles kid doesn't, um, break anything."

"It's okay, I got Lola here." Boyd laughed, recalling seeing the bubbly three year old around a few parts. Even Boyd with his dislike of children liked her.

"By the way," Boyd began, sensing she might hang up anytime soon and he wasn't sure when was a good time to ask since Scott McCall was everywhere at school, "does, uh, Derek know about you?"

"He does." She said. "But he refuses to accept help from a sixteen year old."

"What?" Boyd asked, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise at an alpha knowing about the Rodriguez line and refusing.

"He would prefer to have the age and experience of my grandma." Violeta said. "And he refuses to accept that it's all passed down to me."

"Wow." Boyd said.

"That's your alpha." Violeta said before she promptly hung up. Boyd heard the dial tone and pulled his phone back to see the screen flashing, telling him the duration of the call. He closed his phone and laid back down, heaving out a breath as he thought about how he'd gone from being a loner to joining a werewolf pack and receiving personal calls from a Rodriguez.

And Violeta at that.

-

At the ice-skating rink, Violeta had just finished writing an email to a certain sheriff with a certain zip file of a video attached. Her fingers flew across the keyboard as she muttered under her breath as she wrote, "signed, Bernie Mac." She said in a low voice, using the codename her and Noach had agreed upon. She clicked sent and then went about trying to clear her records as much as could be done. Clear history. Clear caché. Wipe the keyboard of fingerprints.

"You're Bernie Mac?!"

Violeta turned around and cursed to see the damn freckled dork standing there, eyes wide. Stiles had his skates in his hand and Lola in the other. Lola laughed at the name and started cheering "Milk and cookies! Milk and cookies!" in reference to the sole Bernie Mac skit that Lola had seen from having older relatives who watched his stand up. To Lola, he was just a man who swore, made her family laugh and talked about milk and cookies. She loved him.

"I-oh my God-this, you're-him-her-I always-" Stiles cut off, shaking his head in disbelief. It all made so much sense. The interaction with dad at school. Everything.

Suddenly, he found Violeta pressed up against him with one of her hands firmly grasping the collar of his cotton shirt. "Oh-!"

"If you dare open your mouth I will grab that skate you're holding onto and slit your damn throat." She seethed. "Okay?" He nodded rapidly, hoping to appease her and get her to let go of him. She did with a shove and he looked down at Lola who had somehow disappeared. He frowned and found her by the vending machines, pressing buttons.

"I still can't-" she cut him off with a glare. Stiles swallowed the rest of that and decided he would leave it until he put his skates back. Violeta remained where she was, able to be within close range of Lola yet still keep a hawk-like stare on Stiles. He knew that he'd just pushed through a wall - well, more like stumbled through one accidentally - yet he knew this was big. This was a gang-member (or someone affiliated with a 'clique' if you wanted to be technical) working with the police.

More specifically, his father.

Bernie Mac had appeared a few years ago. Around when he was thirteen years old. To Stiles, Bernie Mac was his equivalent of Batman. That was actually how his father had explained it to him after Stiles overheard one of his father's phone calls and he frowned, thinking Bernie was a comedian. His father had sat him down and said to Stiles that this was serious and he could not mess around with this like he did with his other work - a younger Stiles promptly denying ever doing so but his father just smiled knowingly.

His father said that Bernie was like Batman. To this, Stiles had responded with, "So that makes you Detective Gordon." His father had chuckled and when Stiles persisted, his father agreed and said yeah, he sort of was in a way.

Stiles had never felt so cool.

Whenever the name Bernie Mac was around, Stiles would buzz at the fact that there was someone, a super vigilante really, who was working on the down low with his father. He respected Bernie Mac; even watching the real comedian's shows just for that reason.

And it turns out Bernie Mac was the girl in front of him.

Stiles sighed.

"Well, I guess this means I'm not Batman anymore." He muttered, thinking back to their first, real conversation in Chemistry detention.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She replied in a bitter voice, not looking at him. Instead, she was looking at Lola who was pointing at an item, stating she wanted this one! "Sorry mi amor, I don't have anymore." Stiles immediately checked his pockets and grinned, feeling the paper note. He pulled it out and inserted it into the machine, pressing the button for the packet of Skittles Lola wanted.

"Yay!" Lola said. She turned and wrapped an arm tight around one of Stiles' legs. "Gracías Stiles!" He laughed and patted her. He then bent down to gather the candy packet and opened it. Lola held out both of her palms to him and he shook the packet, some of the candy coming out.

"Red! I want red!" She said.

"Okay." He said, shaking more into his palm and picking out all the red ones and plopping them into her own palms. She then picked up an orange one and put it back into the packet. Then she picked up another individual Skittle that wasn't red and placed it into the bag. Stiles and Lola worked together to get about six red Skittles into her palm until Violeta cleared her throat to get Stiles' attention. He looked up and she shook her head, telling him that was enough.

"We'll save some for later!" Stiles said. Lola nodded and then threw them all into her mouth. She chewed and grinned. Stiles laughed and did some, pouring some into his own palm and threw them into his mouth to chew and grin at Lola the same way. The younger child laughed and held out her hands. Stiles blinked, "Oh, uh," he had not expected her to want him to carry her. He obliged nonetheless and as he was walking, he felt Violeta take the packet of Skittles out of his hand. They walked back to the rink, Stiles carrying Lola.

"Can I just say that I always thought Bernie Mac was so cool. Like I was actually in awe-"

"I will punch you in the fucking face."

"Yep. Okay." He said. He finally let it go, deciding that maybe it wasn't so good of an idea to talk to her about it. He'd probably fanboy anyway and that would probably just make things awkward and no one needed that. They both could live without that happening.

Still, he saw the smile on her face. Which fell off as screaming sounded from the rink.

Lydia.

Funny how Stiles had forgotten about her.

As he stood, holding Lola who froze in his arms, Violeta ran forward. Her arms encapsulated Lydia as she tried to calm the girl down. Violeta called out for Scott, the teenager running to help hold Lydia down. Stiles brought a head up to shield Lola from the scene, the younger girl hiding her head in the crook of his neck. Allison came down near them and Violeta looked up at Allison and ordered her to go get some water and towels. Allison nodded and ran off, leaving him and Scott.

It was then that Violeta reached into her pocket and pulled out some leaves. Stiles watched, entranced as Violeta placed them against Lydia's forehead with her thumb. He then saw Violeta close her eyes as she began... chanting. He watched as Lydia's jerking began to slow down in Scott's arms. Violeta's murmuring was heard as Lydia's screams died down, a mixture of some Spanish and... something not Spanish.

So this was her then, Stiles said watching Violeta, some sort of... witch? Are witches real? Maybe she's like Deaton in that— Lydia let out one long howl before she slumped over in Scott's arms. Stiles wanted to come forward but wasn't sure if he should with Lola in his hands. So, he stayed put as she watched Scott stare at Violeta in wonder.

Allison arrived then a white towelette and a plastic bowl of water that she must've gotten from the back. "Oh, thank God." Allison said. Violeta said nothing as she brought the leaves from Lydia's forehead and tore them apart with the tips of her fingers. She drizzled them into the water and Stiles saw her mutter some more. She mixed the water a bit before asking Allison for the towelette. Allison wordlessly passed it, glancing at Scott in regards to Violeta's... whatever the hell she was doing.

"This will calm her down. Right now, she's asleep and the water will cool her body down as the smell of the leaves should ease her spirit." Violeta said.

"How-How, uh, do you..." Allison was the one who asked.

"Get her to bed and keep the towel on her head." Violeta said, a sense of finality in her tone that no one questioned. "Change it if you think. She should wake up normally tomorrow." Violeta said. She stood up and dusted her hands. She looked at Stiles but didn't meet his eyes, looking at the small child instead. Violeta held out her hand and Stiles felt a kiss on his cheek as Lola said, "Bye Stiles." In a much quieter voice than she had used the entire night. He let her down and she ran to Violeta, grabbing her hand and saying nothing until they left.

And now he would have to go home and start researching... whatever the hell Violeta Rodriguez was.

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