mad_madam_m

Once again, this is a post from Tumblr I'm archiving. The original post and inspiration photo—which is amazing, let me tell you—can be found here.

…I do not want the fic idea that just popped up in my head, wherein the sheriff and Melissa both volunteer to chaperone prom. (Scott and Stiles have the same reaction, which is a Darth-Vader-worthy “NOOOOOOOO,” but Melissa calmly points out that with their track record, it would probably be a good idea to have two additional people around who can contend with a supernatural threat. The boys grudgingly admit the logic in this.)

And the sheriff is thinking it might be kind of nice if they, you know, made an actual date of it. So, you know, he finally screws up the courage and asks Melissa, “Hey, do you want to go to prom with me?”

And he realizes what he said at the same time she does and they both can’t help but laugh about it, because prom for them was originally mumblesomething years ago. But then Melissa says, “Sure, it sounds like fun!” And the sheriff says, “I’m getting you a corsage.” And she goes, “Oh, it is ON.”

So Melissa goes shopping for dresses and the sheriff rents a tux and orders a corsage and she gets him a boutonniere and they go Dutch to rent a limo and make Scott and Stiles take pictures of them before they leave. (“You wouldn’t let US rent a limo!” “It’s called a job and discretionary income.”)

They chaperone the dance, but they also take about two dozen deliberately awkward prom pictures, making faces and squeezing their eyes shut and just generally acting like they’re 17 again. They very enthusiastically bounce around to “YMCA.” Melissa hasn’t laughed this hard in months.

And maybe after the prom is over and nothing remains but cleanup, they walk back out to the limo and are kind of slow about it, because neither of them really wants the night to end.

The sheriff says, “You know, Stiles and Scott are staying at Lydia’s house with their terrifyingly codependent pack.”

And Melissa says, “You mean we both have empty houses? All night long?” and wiggles her eyebrows.

The sheriff turns bright red because he realizes what he just proposed, but then just forges ahead and says, “Yeah, I guess we do.”

And maybe at ass o'clock the next morning, Melissa goes downstairs to make coffee at the sheriff’s house, wearing nothing but a button-down shirt that’s way too big for her, and the front door opens and Stiles walks in.

Melissa’s not proud of the squeak she lets out.

Stiles’s eyes go to the size of dinner plates. “Oh my God.”

“Stiles—”

“Oh my GOD!” He just backs away. “I am, like, REALLY happy for you and Dad, but I’m just gonna go somewhere that is definitely not here until, like, tonight. Okay? So, enjoy round two? Or, you know what, just forget I said that. Please. I’m going to forget I said that. Right now. Oh my God.”

With that, he’s back out the door, leaving an absolutely mortified Melissa still mostly speechless in the kitchen.

(Of course, she gets over it quickly, grabs the coffee, and goes back upstairs for what will actually be round three. She and the sheriff have a good laugh over it, and neither of them are particularly surprised when they later receive congratulatory texts from their respective sons.)