"I think we killed the coffee analogy," Scott said with a laugh at Stiles' comment. "She wants other stuff, just not the coffee," which was all good, but totally weird too. "I know you were, buddy, but Lydia was always your one," though when Stiles had been with Malia he'd been all in. There was no doubt there. "I'm just glad you guys are happy," he told him with a smile, "and maybe I want a little of that myself."
Scott laughed, "my brain doesn't work fast enough to make up the shit you do," he replied honestly. "They would believe me, though, cause I'm a good boy and I'd never try to deceive the grown-folks. Unlike some people," he said with a wiggle of his eyebrows. Scott hadn't expected there to be any new patterns on the murder board, but he could hope. "Still random city, huh? Nice." And as for the disease infested apartment he had to laugh again at Stiles' use of words. "Maybe you should always call me Mister Werewolf. It has a nice ring to it," he suggested, ready to duck whatever was thrown next. "Just because I can't get sick doesn't mean I'm invulnerable," he shrugged and pointed to his leg, "case in point. Hurts like hell, but it'll heal."