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Carol woke us up around noon. It felt like so much later. I'm definitely not used to California time. Lydia went to her room to get ready and go meet up with some of her friends. She asked me to text her when I was finished with Deaton.

I showered and got ready in record time. Picking out clothes took me the longest. I leafed through the clothes that Caroline helped me pick out and finally settled on something.

I pulled on a worn-looking pair of short, jean shorts, with an old, gray Nirvana tank, burnt orange flats, and a long green cardigan. I left my hair down, enjoying the new shorter length. I put in a few curls, before I brushed it out, giving it somebody. The shoulder-length hair makes me look older. It's growing on me.

I fidgeted the entire way to the veterinary clinic. I guess Deaton is a doctor. One thing I can't figure out is if Deaton is his first name or his last.

Carol smiled at me as she pulled into the clinic parking lot. I took a deep breath as she turned off the car. We both got out of the car and walked into the veterinary building.

As soon as I stepped inside I felt safe. I don't know how else to explain it. It's a nice feeling – a welcome feeling. I can feel old magic. It didn't take long until I laid eyes on the man who must be Deaton. He smiled when he saw us and walked over to greet us.

"You must be Bonnie." Deaton said, smiling. I nodded and he offered me his hand. I took it and shook it tentatively. I can literally feel the warmth radiating off of him.

"You knew my Grams?" I asked, before I could stop myself from blurting it out. He chuckled and nodded.

"Your grandmother was an incredible woman. Carol, would you mind if I spoke with Bonnie privately? I still have some work here that I need to take care of, but I would be more than happy to drop her home after we are finished here." Deaton asked her, as politely as he could. Carol didn't look offended. She looked like she understood completely. There are some things better discussed without an audience.

"I don't mind at all. You have my number if you need anything, Bonnie. I trust that you're in good hands. I'll see you tonight." Carol gave me a quick hug, before taking her leave. Deaton motioned for me to follow him behind the front counter and into the back of the clinic. Once we were in the back, he looked at me, before speaking.

"We can speak freely here. There are wards in place, so we can't be overheard. It's a pleasure to meet you. You carry yourself just like your mother." He mused. His comment took me by surprise.

"You knew my mother?"

"Only briefly, she left town shortly after I befriended Sheila." He explained. I nodded.

"I don't mean to be rude, but what are you? You're not a warlock. Your energy is different. I've never felt anything like it before. Then again… I've getting a lot of that, since I've gotten to town."

"I don't mind. I'm a druid. We're not too different."

I spent two hours listening to Deaton explain how he practiced magic and what it was like to be an emissary to a wolf pack. It was fascinating. I never knew that magic like this existed.

"The Bennett line is very powerful… Have you ever considered becoming an emissary, yourself?" Deaton asked me, carefully, like he didn't want to cross any boundaries. I bit my lip and considered his words. I sighed.

"An emissary helps the pack and is their link to magic, right? I mean, there's more to it than that, but essentially, that's the gist of it. Right?" I asked him, instead of answering his question. He nodded.

"Basically, yes." He replied. I nodded.

"I don't want to offend you, or step on anyone's toes, but I've been there and done that. I'm not looking to do that again. In Mystic Falls, I was their only link to magic. Whenever shit hit the fan, it was always on me to save everyone. I mean, there were my friends and I would do anything for them – I did do anything for them – everything, even. I can't do it anymore. It came down to so much sacrifice that I wish I hadn't had to give. I lost my mother and my grandmother, because one girl's life was valued more than the rest of us. I'm not saying that every pack shares that mentality, but it's not something that I think that I'll be able to get past anytime soon. Everything has left me worn out and frayed. It's miracle that I even have any magic left. I started to get addicted to expression. It's a dark magic and so seductive. It took someone really close to me dying to snap me out of it. I was so far gone… I don't know how to find my back to everything. So, when Carol offered to let me come with her… to get away from Mystic Falls… I jumped at the opportunity." I confessed, probably telling him much more than he wanted to know. Deaton frowned and reached over to me and gave my arm a gentle squeeze.

"That's perfectly fine. It's not for everybody. All magic isn't like that. I'll teach you that. I'm very sorry for your losses. I can guarantee that the pack here in Beacon Hills does not share that mentality. Based off of everything that you've told me, I think that you'll be a nice fit. You don't have to be their emissary to be pack. Just keep an open mind. They might surprise you."

Right after Deaton asked me to give them a chance, he got a phone call, asking him to come down to the police station. He asked if it was alright for me to accompany him and for him to drop me off afterwards. I gave him the okay and we were on our way. He didn't say much on the way over and neither did I. We sat in a comfortable silence.

We both walked into the station together. The sheriff beckoned him into one of the backrooms, saying that he had something that he needed to show him. He left me hang out in his office, while I waited.

"Hey, Dad, I brought you dinner. Don't be mad about the burger. Just remember that I'm your only son and you love me." Some teenage guy strolled into the office. I don't think that he saw me. My eyes flitted down his body, giving him an appreciative once-over. He's tall, but I can see a hint of muscle under his clothes. He has pale skin, brown, tousled hair, whiskey colored eyes and kissable lips to boot.

"I've been called a lot of things, but 'Dad' isn't one of them." I breathed. The mystery man jumped and flailed, trying to spot the location of the voice. His eyes landed on me and he dropped the bag of food onto the desk, somehow managing not to spill it or the two drinks in his hand.

"Wh-who are you? Don't sneak up on people!" He sputtered out. I laughed.

"I'm Bonnie." I told him. He nodded and set down the cups, before leaning against the desk casually.

"Stiles - the sheriff is my dad." He explained.

"I gathered."

"You're not from around here. I know everyone, and I mean everyone. I've never seen you before."

"That's because I'm not from around here. I just got into town yesterday. I'm from Virginia. I'm staying with the Martins."

"Damn and you're already in the police station." He mused and I could see his brain working a mile a minute.

"I came here with Deaton. He got called in to look at something." I explained.

"Oh… And you're stuck waiting in here?" He guessed. I nodded. "How old are you? You're not related to Deaton are you? Why Beacon Hills? Wow, you don't have to answer all that… Unless you want to… Then, by all means, go for it. Please, say something, so I can stop talking." He rambled. I smirked as I watched him.

"You're adorable." I supplied, instead. His face flushed. "I'm seventeen. I'm not related to Deaton. He's just… kind of a mentor. I came to Beacon Hills, because I wanted to get away from Virginia and because Lydia's mom offered." I answered his questions.

"Wait… are you… you know… magical?" He asked, dropping his voice to a whisper. I nodded, even though I wasn't entirely sure that I should be telling him. If he knows about Deaton, then can't be all bad, right? "Are you a druid, too?"

"No, just a witch."

"Dude, can you turn someone into a toad?" He asked. I laughed and shook my head. "It's still hot." He said, shrugging his shoulders. He seemed to realize what he said, right after he said it. His face paled and I could already see the apology forming on his lips. "I mean, it's awesome. Not that you're not hot, because you are. Really hot. And… wow… maybe I shouldn't talk."

"How old are you?" I asked him, interrupting his freak out.

"Seventeen, just turned. I'm a junior." He supplied.

"Senior," I retorted. "Are you single?" I asked, more out of curiosity, than flirting. At least that's what I'm telling myself. Things with Jeremy are still so fresh. I don't need something else to feel guilty about.

"Painfully," he replied, with a half-smile. "Do you have some guy hiding in the corner, waiting to kick my ass if I hit on you?" He asked, redirecting my question to me.

"No," I answered, quickly. I tried to ignore the pang of hurt that filled me as I kept thinking about Jeremy's dead eyes, staring at me, empty.

"I find it hard to believe that you are single. How do you not have a boyfriend? Not that I'm complaining." He pressed. I winced.

"My last boyfriend died a month ago. He was killed." I whispered. My hands started shaking and I squeezed them together, willing them to stop.

"Oh, my God. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to… Wow. I'm sorry." He apologized. He seemed to notice me down-spiraling, because he rushed across the room and put his arms around me. "Hey, it's okay. Just breathe." He tried to calm me down. I felt my chest tighten. Trying to breathe was getting harder. "I know how it feels."

That's how Deaton and the sheriff found us. They opened the door and stared at us. They didn't ask any questions. Instead, Deaton cleared his throat and we broke apart.

"I see that you met Stiles. He's in the pack that I was telling you about." Deaton explained. I nodded.

"I'm John, Stiles' father." The sheriff introduced himself. I gave him a forced smile.

"I'm Bonnie. It's good to meet you." I breathed, standing up. "Well, I'm supposed to go meet Lydia. I'll see you later, though. Okay?" I told Stiles. He nodded and pulled out his phone.

"Give me your number." He said. It didn't really come out as a request, but I really didn't question it. I did what he asked. "I'll text you." He promised. I nodded.

"Okay."

"See you 'round, Bonnie."

"Later, Stiles."