Wicked Bitch - [Derek Hale]

Chapter 3: Chaos Rising

''Okay kiddo, million dollar question: Fur or no fur?'' inquired a very eccentric looking Michael, while walking in his daughter's room, dressed in a leather jacket with fur, a blue scarf around his neck and dark glasses framing his face.

''Oh, for the love of God dad! Is that real?'' exclaimed Tess as she turned around from the mirror, to look at her dad's outfit.

''Oh, don't worry honey it's faux fur.'' Michael assured, pointing at his jacket. ''Your mother would have had my head otherwise.'' he added.

''You bet your ass she would.'' Tessa laughed. The last time her father had put on an actual leather jacket her mother had threatened to deball him and leave him for dead in an alley. Let's just say that Tessa got her temper from her. ''Okay, my turn. Belt? Or no Belt?'' she questioned. She was wearing a crimson dress with straps, preparing for a party Stiles insisted both her and Scott came to.

''Belt. Looks way better that way.'' he remarked and Tessa was quick to put the belt on. ''But lose the bitch face honey, you'll wrinkle.'' he added chuckling and Tessa just glared at him through the mirror.

''Seriously?'' she gasped. ''Aren't you supposed to say: 'Anything looks great on you honey. It's inner beauty that counts.'' she said in her best Michael Saunders impression. ''You're beautiful honey...''

''First of all, terrible impression of me.'' he stated and Tessa gave him another glare. ''Second of all, of course you are sweetie. Drop dead gorgeous.'' he assured his daughter.

''Thanks dad.'' she chuckled.

''But seriously, lose the bitch face.'' he instructed again. ''People will run off screaming.'' Tessa sighed and put on a toothy smile. ''That's my girl.'' Michael chuckled and turned to exit his daughter's room.

''Hey dad.'' she added before he could leave her room. ''I've got another question.''

''You're right, ditch the shoes.'' her father said quickly, looking at her black boots.

''What's wrong with my shoes?'' she hissed, offended by her father's comment.

''Nothing!'' Michael blurted. If looks could kill, he'd already by six feet under. ''Boots look great. You're amazing!'' he promised. ''What did you want to ask me.''