Fic: A Close Encounter (Teen Wolf, Lydia/Derek)
Title: A Close Encounter
Fandom/Pairing: Teen Wolf, Lydia/Derek
Word Count: 1878
Summary: Written for the prompt: Lydia/Derek, being locked in a room or trapped in a small space.
A/N: This was written for a prompt by the lovely stydia. Lydia/Derek is a pairing I’ve never written before - it was fun to try my hand at something different, and I hope you enjoy the result, even though it turned out more like a pre-relationship fic than them actually being together. Thank you to dani_blondy for reading over the fic for me!
Lydia had grown accustomed to going to sleep in one place and waking up in another. Sometimes, it would be at a gas station twenty miles out of time, other times she’d find herself scarily close to the house of someone she cared about, and she’d spend a frantic couple of minutes searching for a body, hoping it wouldn’t be Stiles, or Kira, or someone else she cared for. It was the part of being a banshee that she hated the most, and also the part that still happened most frequently. Deaton had assured her it would pass with time - that she would have more control over her instincts - but it wasn’t happening anywhere near quickly enough for her liking. This time, as she became aware of her surroundings, she promised herself she’d speak to Deaton again soon to see if there was any way to hurry things along.
Beacon Hills High School was definitely not Lydia’s favourite place to be in the middle of the night, and it was an experience she’d had too many times. Wrapping her arms around herself, she started to make her way along the corridor, glad that she had managed to pull on some warm clothes before she’d left the house this time. As yet, there was no-one - alive or dead - in sight.
Heels clicking too loudly along the empty halls, she walked past three classrooms, instinctively knowing she wouldn’t find anything there. Pace slowing, she walked further into the school, and then stopped dead. Lydia glanced sideways to see where she was and her eyes widened: Coach’s office. Of course, it had to be someone she knew. Trying not to think about the last time she was in Coach’s office, when Aiden had still been alive, she steeled herself for what she was about to see. Her hand was half-way towards the door handle when she heard footsteps; she turned and looked back the way she had come, and pursed her lips when she saw him. Derek Hale was not exactly her favourite person.
Derek’s shoulders were tense as he came to a stop in front of Lydia. He looked at her for a long moment before his gaze shifted towards Coach’s name on his office door. “Well, if you’re here it can’t be good for him,” he said.
“That is the most insensitive-” Lydia cut herself off; she was above bickering with him. “I’d realized that. Why are you here?”
“I saw your car out in the lot.” Derek shrugged. “Are you going to open that or just stare at it all night?”
“I’m going to open it, obviously.” Biting her lower lip, Lydia reached for the handle again and pulled the door open in one quick motion.
“Not what I was expecting,” said Derek.
Lydia took a few steps into the room, tilting her head. The office, while more cluttered than usual, contained no corpse. Frowning, she made her way over to Coach’s desk and scanned its contents, running her fingers over the champion’s medal that was always kept there.
“He could still be dead,” Derek pointed out, walking into the room.
“This isn’t how this usually works.” Lydia leaned against the desk, drumming her fingers against the edge of it. “I’m supposed to find a dead person.”
“You sound disappointed.”
“Congratulations, Derek,” said Lydia, reaching to push her hair back over her shoulders, “you managed a whole three minutes of being a decent person.” Standing up, she made to leave but stopped when Derek’s hand came to rest on her arm.
“I just meant-”
“Someone’s going to be dead, whether I’m finding the body or predicting the death. I like Coach.”
“We might still be able to save him - I’ll call Scott.”
“I’ll swing by and pick up Stiles. He-” Lydia froze. “Something’s wrong.”
“What?”
“Can’t you feel how cold it is?” she hissed, and then jumped as the office door swung shut with a bang. “Someone’s here.”
Derek nodded, holding a finger up to his lips. Squaring his shoulders, he pushed at the door, frowning when it didn’t move. He tried again with more force, but the door stayed closed.
“There’s no window,” said Lydia, swallowing. “The door’s our only way out.”
“Well it won’t move. Must be some kind of spell.”
“I don’t have my cell phone with me.” Lydia ran her hands up and down her arms, watching as Derek pulled out his own phone.
“No signal, anyway,” he said. “Probably part of the spell. We’ll just have to wait for someone to realize where we are.”
She raised an eyebrow. “That’s your plan? To sit here, hoping whoever locked us in here isn’t going to do anything else?”
“I could howl but I’m guessing if we can’t get out and the signal is blocked, that won’t be heard.” Derek folded his arms across his chest, toned biceps drawing Lydia’s gaze for a moment before he spoke again. “Do you have a better idea?”
“I’m not the one with super strength and the capacity to turn into a wolf. Are you not cold?”
Derek shook his head. “I’m fine.”
“Great, must be a banshee thing. The one time you’re not wearing that stupid leather jacket.”
“You’re acting like I’d have let you wear it.”
“Of course you would have,” she waved her right hand in the air as she walked towards Coach’s chair and sat down. “I’m Lydia Martin.”
“You’re very confident,” said Derek, assessing.
“Why shouldn’t I be?”
“Oh no, you definitely should be. You’re attractive and a bit of a genius, from what I’ve witnessed. But lots of people who should be confident aren’t - they can’t see themselves.”
“Hmm.” Lydia twisted a little on the chair, clasping her hands together on her lap. She hadn’t really thought Derek paid much attention to her or the others, beyond the surface level, but apparently she had been wrong. It didn’t happen often. And he thought she was attractive - that was nice. He wasn’t exactly bad-looking himself, even when he was scowling.
“Whoever trapped us in here is likely killing Finstock right now, you know,” Derek warned, interrupting Lydia’s train of thought.
“Or,” she said, “they’ve trapped us in here to kill us. I was drawn here, after all, not Coach’s place.”
Derek leaned back against the closed door and nodded. “I wasn’t going to point that out.”
“Why not? I can handle it.” Lydia looked him dead in the eye.
Derek’s lips twitched. “I’m not sure I can.”
“Oh.” She watched him for a moment, taking in the tense set of his shoulders. “Well, if we were the targets we’d probably know by now,
don’t you think?”
Derek nodded, and they fell into a silence that, while not easy, was more comfortable than Lydia might have expected. Deciding to make the best of a bad situation, she started to search carefully through the paperwork on the desk for anything that might help her figure out why Coach might be a target. But after a few minutes it became clear she wasn’t going to find anything.
Sighing, she let herself watch Derek as he tried the door again. The muscles in his back stretched visibly underneath the back t-shirt he was wearing as he applied more force. When it became clear this attempt wasn’t going to be any more successful than the last he sagged visibly, forehead resting against the door. Lydia looked down at the desk; he wouldn’t want someone witnessing a moment of weakness any more than she would.
Clearing her throat, Lydia checked the clock on the wall; it would be hours until anyone arrived at the school for the start of the day. “Did you tell anyone you were coming by this way?”
Derek shook his head. “I don’t suppose you left a note?”
She scoffed. “Last thing I remember before I got here, I was trying to get to sleep. There’s a chance I left symbols painted on my wall or wandered listlessly through a field but I doubt I left information about where I was going. It’s a banshee thing.”
“It must be strange,” he said, “waking up somewhere you didn’t fall asleep.” He spoke casually, but his eyes were sharp as he watched her.
Lydia smacked her lips together before replying. “It’s disconcerting. I like being in control.” Standing up, she walked around to stand in front of the desk, closer to Derek. He was being much less of a jerk than the last time they’d spent a prolonged amount of time together. “It’s why what Peter did was so…” she trailed off.
Derek was quiet for a long moment and then he moved so he was leaning against the desk, their sides touching. “If I’d known what was going on, I’d have stopped it.”
Turning her head to look up at him, Lydia nudged Derek with her elbow. “I know.” Grateful for the extra body heat, Lydia shuffled a little closer to him. It felt strange, being so close to someone she’d actively tried to avoid in the past. Derek wasn’t as bad as she’d once thought, but there was still so much she didn’t know about him. Still, if they were going to be stuck in the office for a while, she needed to be warm. Almost as soon as she’d had the thought, Derek straightened up next to her.
“Someone’s out there,” he said, brow furrowing. “Someone noisy.”
Lydia gasped, her nails digging into the palms of her hands. “Do you think-”
“It’s Stiles.”
“Cavalry’s here, then”, she said, resisting the urge to follow as Derek walked over to the door.
“That’s one word for him.” Derek smirked, his eyes crinkling at their corners. Pulling his right hand into a fist, he started banging on the door and made a contended sound in the back of his throat as they heard shouts in response.
Considering the trouble they’d had opening the door from inside, Lydia was surprised by how quickly Stiles and Scott managed to get it released. The answer soon became clear as Ms. Morrell appeared in view; their guidance counsellor knew a lot more about magic than she let on, Lydia knew.
“Is Coach Finstock okay?” she asked Stiles, gripping hold of his arm. “What’s going on?”
Stiles nodded, squeezing her hand for a moment before stepping away to peer into the office. “He’s okay for now. Malia and Liam are keeping watch at his house. Kira and her parents are trying to figure out why he’s being targeted. Are you okay? Being locked in an office is bad enough, but with Derek.”
Turning away from her friend, Lydia instead focused on Derek. He was deep in conversation with Scott but, from the way he was turned ever so slightly in their direction, she was sure he was listening to them, too. She kept her gaze fixed on the werewolf - he really was attractive - as she spoke. “He can hear you, Stiles. Besides, he isn’t so bad.”
At that, Derek looked right in their direction and smiled, nodding at Lydia in acknowledgement.
Lydia smiled right on back at him - she had a feeling that next time she and Derek were trapped in a small space together, it was going to be on her terms.
Fandom/Pairing: Teen Wolf, Lydia/Derek
Word Count: 1878
Summary: Written for the prompt: Lydia/Derek, being locked in a room or trapped in a small space.
A/N: This was written for a prompt by the lovely stydia. Lydia/Derek is a pairing I’ve never written before - it was fun to try my hand at something different, and I hope you enjoy the result, even though it turned out more like a pre-relationship fic than them actually being together. Thank you to dani_blondy for reading over the fic for me!
Lydia had grown accustomed to going to sleep in one place and waking up in another. Sometimes, it would be at a gas station twenty miles out of time, other times she’d find herself scarily close to the house of someone she cared about, and she’d spend a frantic couple of minutes searching for a body, hoping it wouldn’t be Stiles, or Kira, or someone else she cared for. It was the part of being a banshee that she hated the most, and also the part that still happened most frequently. Deaton had assured her it would pass with time - that she would have more control over her instincts - but it wasn’t happening anywhere near quickly enough for her liking. This time, as she became aware of her surroundings, she promised herself she’d speak to Deaton again soon to see if there was any way to hurry things along.
Beacon Hills High School was definitely not Lydia’s favourite place to be in the middle of the night, and it was an experience she’d had too many times. Wrapping her arms around herself, she started to make her way along the corridor, glad that she had managed to pull on some warm clothes before she’d left the house this time. As yet, there was no-one - alive or dead - in sight.
Heels clicking too loudly along the empty halls, she walked past three classrooms, instinctively knowing she wouldn’t find anything there. Pace slowing, she walked further into the school, and then stopped dead. Lydia glanced sideways to see where she was and her eyes widened: Coach’s office. Of course, it had to be someone she knew. Trying not to think about the last time she was in Coach’s office, when Aiden had still been alive, she steeled herself for what she was about to see. Her hand was half-way towards the door handle when she heard footsteps; she turned and looked back the way she had come, and pursed her lips when she saw him. Derek Hale was not exactly her favourite person.
Derek’s shoulders were tense as he came to a stop in front of Lydia. He looked at her for a long moment before his gaze shifted towards Coach’s name on his office door. “Well, if you’re here it can’t be good for him,” he said.
“That is the most insensitive-” Lydia cut herself off; she was above bickering with him. “I’d realized that. Why are you here?”
“I saw your car out in the lot.” Derek shrugged. “Are you going to open that or just stare at it all night?”
“I’m going to open it, obviously.” Biting her lower lip, Lydia reached for the handle again and pulled the door open in one quick motion.
“Not what I was expecting,” said Derek.
Lydia took a few steps into the room, tilting her head. The office, while more cluttered than usual, contained no corpse. Frowning, she made her way over to Coach’s desk and scanned its contents, running her fingers over the champion’s medal that was always kept there.
“He could still be dead,” Derek pointed out, walking into the room.
“This isn’t how this usually works.” Lydia leaned against the desk, drumming her fingers against the edge of it. “I’m supposed to find a dead person.”
“You sound disappointed.”
“Congratulations, Derek,” said Lydia, reaching to push her hair back over her shoulders, “you managed a whole three minutes of being a decent person.” Standing up, she made to leave but stopped when Derek’s hand came to rest on her arm.
“I just meant-”
“Someone’s going to be dead, whether I’m finding the body or predicting the death. I like Coach.”
“We might still be able to save him - I’ll call Scott.”
“I’ll swing by and pick up Stiles. He-” Lydia froze. “Something’s wrong.”
“What?”
“Can’t you feel how cold it is?” she hissed, and then jumped as the office door swung shut with a bang. “Someone’s here.”
Derek nodded, holding a finger up to his lips. Squaring his shoulders, he pushed at the door, frowning when it didn’t move. He tried again with more force, but the door stayed closed.
“There’s no window,” said Lydia, swallowing. “The door’s our only way out.”
“Well it won’t move. Must be some kind of spell.”
“I don’t have my cell phone with me.” Lydia ran her hands up and down her arms, watching as Derek pulled out his own phone.
“No signal, anyway,” he said. “Probably part of the spell. We’ll just have to wait for someone to realize where we are.”
She raised an eyebrow. “That’s your plan? To sit here, hoping whoever locked us in here isn’t going to do anything else?”
“I could howl but I’m guessing if we can’t get out and the signal is blocked, that won’t be heard.” Derek folded his arms across his chest, toned biceps drawing Lydia’s gaze for a moment before he spoke again. “Do you have a better idea?”
“I’m not the one with super strength and the capacity to turn into a wolf. Are you not cold?”
Derek shook his head. “I’m fine.”
“Great, must be a banshee thing. The one time you’re not wearing that stupid leather jacket.”
“You’re acting like I’d have let you wear it.”
“Of course you would have,” she waved her right hand in the air as she walked towards Coach’s chair and sat down. “I’m Lydia Martin.”
“You’re very confident,” said Derek, assessing.
“Why shouldn’t I be?”
“Oh no, you definitely should be. You’re attractive and a bit of a genius, from what I’ve witnessed. But lots of people who should be confident aren’t - they can’t see themselves.”
“Hmm.” Lydia twisted a little on the chair, clasping her hands together on her lap. She hadn’t really thought Derek paid much attention to her or the others, beyond the surface level, but apparently she had been wrong. It didn’t happen often. And he thought she was attractive - that was nice. He wasn’t exactly bad-looking himself, even when he was scowling.
“Whoever trapped us in here is likely killing Finstock right now, you know,” Derek warned, interrupting Lydia’s train of thought.
“Or,” she said, “they’ve trapped us in here to kill us. I was drawn here, after all, not Coach’s place.”
Derek leaned back against the closed door and nodded. “I wasn’t going to point that out.”
“Why not? I can handle it.” Lydia looked him dead in the eye.
Derek’s lips twitched. “I’m not sure I can.”
“Oh.” She watched him for a moment, taking in the tense set of his shoulders. “Well, if we were the targets we’d probably know by now,
don’t you think?”
Derek nodded, and they fell into a silence that, while not easy, was more comfortable than Lydia might have expected. Deciding to make the best of a bad situation, she started to search carefully through the paperwork on the desk for anything that might help her figure out why Coach might be a target. But after a few minutes it became clear she wasn’t going to find anything.
Sighing, she let herself watch Derek as he tried the door again. The muscles in his back stretched visibly underneath the back t-shirt he was wearing as he applied more force. When it became clear this attempt wasn’t going to be any more successful than the last he sagged visibly, forehead resting against the door. Lydia looked down at the desk; he wouldn’t want someone witnessing a moment of weakness any more than she would.
Clearing her throat, Lydia checked the clock on the wall; it would be hours until anyone arrived at the school for the start of the day. “Did you tell anyone you were coming by this way?”
Derek shook his head. “I don’t suppose you left a note?”
She scoffed. “Last thing I remember before I got here, I was trying to get to sleep. There’s a chance I left symbols painted on my wall or wandered listlessly through a field but I doubt I left information about where I was going. It’s a banshee thing.”
“It must be strange,” he said, “waking up somewhere you didn’t fall asleep.” He spoke casually, but his eyes were sharp as he watched her.
Lydia smacked her lips together before replying. “It’s disconcerting. I like being in control.” Standing up, she walked around to stand in front of the desk, closer to Derek. He was being much less of a jerk than the last time they’d spent a prolonged amount of time together. “It’s why what Peter did was so…” she trailed off.
Derek was quiet for a long moment and then he moved so he was leaning against the desk, their sides touching. “If I’d known what was going on, I’d have stopped it.”
Turning her head to look up at him, Lydia nudged Derek with her elbow. “I know.” Grateful for the extra body heat, Lydia shuffled a little closer to him. It felt strange, being so close to someone she’d actively tried to avoid in the past. Derek wasn’t as bad as she’d once thought, but there was still so much she didn’t know about him. Still, if they were going to be stuck in the office for a while, she needed to be warm. Almost as soon as she’d had the thought, Derek straightened up next to her.
“Someone’s out there,” he said, brow furrowing. “Someone noisy.”
Lydia gasped, her nails digging into the palms of her hands. “Do you think-”
“It’s Stiles.”
“Cavalry’s here, then”, she said, resisting the urge to follow as Derek walked over to the door.
“That’s one word for him.” Derek smirked, his eyes crinkling at their corners. Pulling his right hand into a fist, he started banging on the door and made a contended sound in the back of his throat as they heard shouts in response.
Considering the trouble they’d had opening the door from inside, Lydia was surprised by how quickly Stiles and Scott managed to get it released. The answer soon became clear as Ms. Morrell appeared in view; their guidance counsellor knew a lot more about magic than she let on, Lydia knew.
“Is Coach Finstock okay?” she asked Stiles, gripping hold of his arm. “What’s going on?”
Stiles nodded, squeezing her hand for a moment before stepping away to peer into the office. “He’s okay for now. Malia and Liam are keeping watch at his house. Kira and her parents are trying to figure out why he’s being targeted. Are you okay? Being locked in an office is bad enough, but with Derek.”
Turning away from her friend, Lydia instead focused on Derek. He was deep in conversation with Scott but, from the way he was turned ever so slightly in their direction, she was sure he was listening to them, too. She kept her gaze fixed on the werewolf - he really was attractive - as she spoke. “He can hear you, Stiles. Besides, he isn’t so bad.”
At that, Derek looked right in their direction and smiled, nodding at Lydia in acknowledgement.
Lydia smiled right on back at him - she had a feeling that next time she and Derek were trapped in a small space together, it was going to be on her terms.