The usual disclaimers apply, I do not own Teen Wolf or any of the characters from the show. I also apologize in advance if any of my descriptions of the many (many, many, many!) places that are described in any chapters are somewhat inaccurate, my knowledge of most of them is hardly stellar but hopefully sufficiently accurate and believable. Rated M for heavy male/male sex once we get going, so turn back now if you shy away from that kind of thing!
"Hurry up Scott!" Stiles cried, his body at an odd angle as he leaned out of the window. Four hands flew up to cover their owners sensitive morning ears as Lydia and Allison gave Stiles their best death-glares, huddled in the back of the van looking like they had just rolled out of bed with their bleary eyes and puffy faces – unsurprising seen as they basically just had.
"I'm coming!" The grin plastered across Scott's face as he glanced over at the van - giving his mother a quick hug before jogging over to join them - did little to raise the mood of the two girls, who were tired, cold, and wished they were back in bed.
"Now!" The growl that left Derek's snarling lips made Mrs. McCall jump a little, her own tired frame hurrying back inside as Derek leaned out of the window so his angry stare would be better received.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Scott held up his hands as he clambered over Allison (another evil-glare crossing over her face as he did) to join her on the second row of the van. "How great is this gonna be?!" Scott's grin was even making his girlfriend a little annoyed. She turned her head away from him, clamping her eyelids together in defiance.
"Dude, thank god someone's excited." Stiles said with a cheerful grin, turning to face his best friend.
"Will you two shut up?" Jackson said through gritted teeth from the back, throwing a baseball from one hand to the other, idly wondering if vans came in super-car form.
"Shut up Jackson. You're lacrosse skills mean nothing in the van. The van has no bias, it is completely above your popularity and only responds to happiness." Stiles told him, chin in the air, a satisfied smile on his face. Jackson just looked back at him with narrowed eyes, thinking how weird the kid was.
"Cut it out, Stiles." The growl from the back of the van, where Derek was packing away Scott's bags with enough force to move the van itself – Scott had just dumped them on the floor for someone else to deal with – made Stiles jump slightly.
"Okay boss. The driver gets special perks I suppose, so if you want me to stop giving Jackson the true meaning of the van then I will. For now." Stiles gave him an encouraging pat on the arm as he slipped into the drivers seat next to him. "Wait!" Stiles pulled Derek's hand from the wheel, feeling the fingers tense as he, hoping and praying to any and all gods that they wouldn't clasp around his own and break all the tiny little bones into thousands of fragmented pieces.
"What?" The words long and drawn out, tired eyes closed as Derek resisted the urge to lean over and easily break Stiles' neck.
"This is the start of our journey." Stiles turned in his seat, looking at everyone but Derek – who he was still scared of - as he spoke. "We have to remember it." The camera from the backpack under his seat was soon clicking and flashing away, trying to catch them off guard by acting as if he was just looking at the one he had just taken (which was always the subject covering their face) as he tried in vain to successfully document the start of their journey.
"If you point that at me I'll break your neck." Derek told him without a trace of humour.
"Uh – okay... Well at least Scott's smiling." He shrugged as he looked at the best photo, Scott beaming into the camera, Allison half asleep with a surprised and slightly odd half-asleep smile on her face, Jackson looking up from under his lashes as if he was in a modelling campaign, Lydia laid back against the seat, silk eye mask on, wax earplugs in, oblivious to everything. "We just need one of me." Stiles turned around so he was on his side, trying to get Derek into the shot unsuspectingly.
"Right, we're going." The engine roared to life, Derek's head turned as he manoeuvred the car out of the driveway.
"And so it begins... the great American road trip, just six friends on a journey of self discovery and adventure, what they will discover still unknown, but sure to be amazing..." Stiles began his prepared monologue as they raced through the empty, 5 AM streets of Beacon Hills. "They are leaving their town behind," Stiles continued as they left the city limits, "a wonderful place to be sure, but these adventurers have a thirst for more!"
"Are you gonna be like this all the time?" Jackson groaned with a frown on his face.
"I'm not quite sure I like your tone there, Jackson, old buddy old pal. If you mean am I going to be entertaining, handsome, funny and basically the one that keeps this entire trip interesting, something I have a right to seen as I am in fact the one that made this happen, then yes. I am."
"I should have followed in the Porsche so I didn't have to put up with this."
"You'd miss the experience." Scott said, the huge smile on his face growing wider as they got further and further from Beacon Hills, heading out into unknown territory – well, you know.
"That's right, Scott." Stiles said, assuming the role of master and teacher, a role he felt was well deserved due to his huge and vastly superior knowledge of road trips and everything in general. "Jackson here is a slave of the modern world, he'd rather fly places or take his sweet little car," Jackson growled, teeth extending as his car was insulted, "but Jackson - you should know that if you were to fly you'd miss out on all the awesome sights we're gonna be seeing, as well a quintessential American tradition of friends traversing the great unknown, so zip it."
"The great unknown." Derek snorted, glancing down at his GPS with every route mapped out perfectly.
"Turn right." The soothing voice of the GPS lady instructed on queue.
"She has to ruin it, doesn't she." Stiles gave the side of the GPS a playful slap. "How does she even know where to go when she's English?" He leaned over, ready to change the voice to something funnier, or maybe change it to a different language, but having his fingers swatted away by Derek's.
"Are we there yet?" Allison asked sleepily, her head nuzzled into Scott's shoulder.
"A few hours yet, and you better get used to it." Stiles told her happily, not noticing her own groan of trepidation.
"Sacramento blows." Jackson informed them sullenly.
"Well maybe Sacramento thinks you blow, ever think of that, huh?" Stiles said, turning in his seat once more, enjoying his little sparring with the lacrosse star.
"You're so weird..." Jackson smiled slightly before turning to gaze out of the window.
"Did you know Sacramento has six sports franchises?" Stiles asked, Derek and Jackson's ears perking up as they heard. "And did you know that Sacramento has been the capital of California since, I think, 1856."
"1854." Lydia corrected. Stiles jumped slightly, everyone had thought she was asleep, hidden behind her eye mask.
"The sleeping genius saves us with her superior knowledge." Laughing as he turned back to face the road, Stiles wondered absently if Lydia would be any fun on the trip. He loved her, loved everything about her, but still, she didn't exactly seem like the road trip kind of girl.
With a glance backwards, seeing everyone gazing out of windows, relaxing in each others arms, Stiles smiled to himself. He would let their quietness pass for now, it was still early. Inside he knew that they would perk up once they reached Sacramento, their first stop, and everyone really got excited. Another glance was directed at Derek, hands clasping the wheel, eyes straight ahead on the road. The older man looked over at Stiles, who threw him a huge smile that was, obviously, met with a completely dead pan Derek.
"You may not smile now, but I promise you by the end of this trip you won't be able to stop." Stiles crossed his arms, a goofy grin plastered across his face as he watched the road disappearing underneath the van over and over again, sending up a silent thanks to whatever dead guy up in the sky invented cars. He was determined to make this trip the best experience he and his friends - a generic term he used pretty loosely - had ever, and would ever have.