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“Festival Claudia Whitmore-Stilinski, you get back here this instant!” Stiles shouted after the three year old who’d decided to take off after a dog in the park.
For a three year old, Festival, Val for short, was quick. Quicker than any three year old had a right to be. According to Derek, it was because of the wolf DNA - after all she shared the genetic makeup of Jackson, Stiles, and an unknown donor (they had not been given a name, just important stats).
“I’ve got her,” Jackson assured Stiles, who rolled his eyes at his husband.
“Of course you’ve got her,” Stiles muttered under his breath. “What with your super speed, and your wolfishness.”
Stiles flopped down on the park bench and watched his mate chase after their wayward daughter, smiling when the little girl avoided even her supernaturally enhanced father’s reach. She squealed in delight, and sped back toward Stiles as fast as her little legs could carry her (which was faster than Stiles would like).
He grinned devilishly when he managed to capture Val as she tried to swerve past him. He pulled her onto his lap, and gave Jackson a smug look when he made his way over to them, panting.
“Looks like super speed isn’t everything,” Stiles said.
“No,” Jackson said easily, draping his arm across Stiles’ shoulder, and tugging him close. “Devastatingly good looks and wicked charm are.”
“Hardy, har, har,” Stiles said, sticking his tongue out at the arguably handsome man. Their daughter shared Jackson’s sharp, blue eyes and angular face. Her dark hair, and the smattering of freckles along her nose and cheeks, were all from Stiles. The curls must’ve been from the unknown donor. She was absolutely adorable and knew it.
“Daddy, I want a doggy,” Val said, drawing both of her dad’s attention to her cherub like face. They shared a look over her head of curls and Jackson shrugged.
“We’ll talk about it once we get home, sweetheart,” Stiles said, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.
“Can’t I have that doggy?” Val pointed at the black dog she’d been chasing, and it took both Stiles' hold and Jackson’s quick reflexes to keep her from chasing after the big dog again.
“Honey, that dog belongs to someone else,” Jackson said. “We can’t take something that doesn’t belong to us.”
“But, you and Daddy always say I gotta share, how come they don’t gotta share?” Val crossed her chubby arms over her chest and pouted at them, eyes narrowed at the couple who’d finally caught up with their dog and got the leash on him.
Sighing, Jackson ran a hand through his hair. “Well...” he looked to Stiles who rolled his eyes.
“What your papa is trying to say is that we only share with people we know, not strangers,” Stiles said.
Val tilted her head to the side, thinking on it, and then nodded. She sighed deeply and tugged on her dads’ hands. “Let’s go,” she said.
“I thought you wanted to play at the park,” Stiles said.
“I want to get a doggy,” Val said. She was just as single-minded and stubborn as Jackson, though Stiles knew that the other man would lay those traits at Stiles’ feet instead.
“Baby, like Daddy said, we’ll talk about it when we get home,” Jackson reminded the little girl.
Val crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. That, she got from Stiles, he was not afraid to admit. Her puppy dog eyes were almost as good as his, actually they were better. They both knew, when they shared a look over their daughter’s head that there would be no talking this over, that on the way home from the park, they’d be heading over to the animal shelter and picking out a dog.
Stiles wouldn’t have it any other way, though, and he knew that Jackson wouldn’t either. They both had something more precious than anything else in the world, a little spoiling (within reason) wasn’t going to hurt anyone.