Okay so this basically started as two short drabbles and has since then ballooned, and ballooned.

This AU starts at "Muted" and will continue on from there, some of the change I've made will be minor, some will be massive, all will hopefully be good (relatively speaking). If I do not mention a scene assume it happened as canon.

As for pairings, the Marrish/ Pydian/ Pedan portions will be fairly slow build so you'll have to be patient for those.

And lastly THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU to rantsofafangirl for betaing for me and just generally being awesome.

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The girl, Lydia—he'd overheard, but Jordan'll still ask her for it in a moment, hang up, takes a deep, but shaky breath, and starts to leave. Without thinking he reaches out and takes her wrist. "Wait," she turns, deer-startled, and her pulse under his fingers turns into a stampede of hoof-beats. Humanity clings to her like cobwebs and he resists the urge to reach out and try to brush it away. "This was shocking for both of us, let me buy you some coffee." He's seen and dealt death, both in his search for this girl and in service of his queen, but that many bodies…there's something senseless about that. And it will be a start to easing her back into her own world.

Some of her poise returns, he wonders how glorious she'll be in the throes of Winter, and she arches an eyebrow. "Why deputy? Shouldn't you be taking me to the department for questioning?"

Oh she's wonderful. He gives a rueful smile. "I think the sheriff already knows what you're going to say, and half an hour won't make much difference." If Stilinski is more aware than Jordan thought him than maybe he can start being a little more honest with the man; iron poisoning's a horrible way to die and being stuck in a police cruiser for hours isn't helping. Though today it brought him to her, the end of his quest.

"Alright," she gives a little gracious incline of her head. "Beacon Brewers should be hitting the end of the after school rush."

He smiles, and hopes the queen will allow him to stay and guard this girl, for he finds he wants to stay. "I'm Erwann," speaking his real name is strange, he's lived as Jordan Parrish for so long now that he doesn't feel like Erwann anymore, but she deserves to have the truth of him. In a bit of chivalry he hopes she'll keep allowing he raises her hand, turns it over, and kisses her pulse; breathing in her deathly-chilly scent.

Lydia looks a little stunned and his smile grows as he releases her. "Ly…Lydia." She blinks then shakes her hand, as if it's started to fall asleep. "I believe you promised me coffee deputy."

Almost unwillingly his smile turns rueful again. "Of course Lydia."

000

Beacon Brewers is just as empty as Lydia hoped it would be. Taking a steadying breath she strides towards the counter, resisting the urge to look behind her to see if the deputy, Erwann's far too personal at the moment, is following.

She quickly rattles off her order of a chai and lemon poppy seed scone to the barista, but before she can pull out her purse to pay—with the now typical grimace of distaste—the deputy speaks. "We're together and I've got the check."

Lydia turns, surprised to see the deputy isn't smiling like she'd dreaded; he gives her a little nod, "maybe find somewhere for us to sit?"

Like that would be hard, the shop hasn't magically filled up since their arrival. Pride smarting, but grateful none the less, she goes to one of the more out of the way corners and settling in a comfy arm chair.

Deputy, she's pretty sure there's no really polite way to ask him his last name though she'll probably hear it at the station—and oh what fun that will be, joins her shortly, carrying her scone and a chocolate cheesecake brownie.

"I wouldn't have guessed you were a sweets person." She hopes he can't tell she's blushing, because she didn't mean to say that. Not that she's gleaned much, her usual instincts are near silent around him.

The smile he gives her as he hands her her scone is boyish and easygoing. "You and everyone at the station, though Stilinski's told me he's both relieved and annoyed that I've already cleared out the doughnuts by the time he goes around for seconds."

Lydia can't help but laugh at that, Stiles, she's sure, would probably kiss this guy in thanks if he knew that. Breaking off a piece of her scone she bite it in half. The silence now between them is awkward in its comfortableness; they'd met what, an hour ago?, yet she feels like they've been acquaintances at the very least for far longer. Then again they did discover a hoard of dead bodies together. Being perfectly honest with herself it frightens her, she hadn't even felt this way around Peter when he was tricking her with his younger self.

The barista comes and drops off their drinks, giving her something else to fiddle with. Picking up her mug she relishes the warmth that seeps into her from it. Raising it to her face she feels a little braver, a barrier of sorts, and she finds she can speak again. "You scare me." ...She hadn't meant to be that brave.

Just barely she can see a twitch of the deputy's lips. But he surprises her by not responding.

Now she really is blushing, how can she not be thinking before she speaks? "Sorry, I just...I don't like that I feel so comfortable around you." Impulsively she sips her chai, grimacing when it scalds her tongue.

Finally he speaks. "I'm sorry? Though most people would consider that a good thing. People tend to tell you more if they think they can trust you." He sips his own iced drink, which looks about as sweet as his brownie; not that sweet is bad, she just thinks you shouldn't consume that much sugar in one sitting, it's like watching a kid on Halloween. His expression turns a little more serious. "But there's something you should probably know."

Here they go, not even an hour in and they've gone through most of a relationship, with extra dead bodies just for kicks. "You're not a real deputy? You sparkle in the sun? Don't hold back deputy, give it to me straight." Her tone is as biting as she can make it, she appreciates that he's being upfront, but she finds she could do without for a change.

She's not sure whether she should be offended or amused by the fact that he laughs, though he soon returns to serious. "Miss Lydia...what if someone suggested to you that you might not be who you thought you were?"

Which means he's suggesting she isn't who she thinks she is. She sets her mug down a bit more forcefully than she'd wanted to, her drink nearly sloshing over the rim. "I'd say they must be mistaken. The people who raised me are my birth parents, my dad took pictures of me when they were at the hospital. I'll trust evidence over baseless claims from someone I barely know anyday." She hopes he gets that they are done with that conversation, she likes him and doesn't want it spoiled, not by something this...asinine. And how is this her life that the claim she may be living a lie regarding her family is asinine?

For a few moments he looks like a fish, mouth opening and closing numerous times, like he wants to speak but isn't sure what to say. But then he just closes his mouth and takes another sip of his drink. Internally she sighs in relief. She just wants something uncomplicated for a change, and finds that she's willing to be willfully ignorant to have it.

Which is just wrong, she shouldn't want that at all. Willful ignorance gets you killed, especially in this town. With a soft sigh Lydia decides she's done with being nice; and she needs something to distract her from the turmoil inside her. "What's your name?" Not truly rude, but definitely blunt, something she's never really enjoyed, it's just not as...fun.

He raises an eyebrow. "Erwann."

Raising her mug back to her mouth she drinks to hide her annoyance. "Alright then, what's your last name?"

Carelessly he pops a chunk of brownie in his mouth. "Technically I don–"

"Don't talk with your mouth full!" She's sick and fucking tired of tête-a-têtes and just wants some straight answers for once. And she's not going to apologize for that outburst, he damn well deserved it for being so cagy and uncivilized.

Clearly surprised his mouth snaps shut, he chews, then swallows; all the while an embarrassed flush creeps up his neck, almost absentmindedly she wonders how far down it goes. "A"—he clears his throat—"Apologies Miss Lydia. And I don't have a last name."

Which earns him an incredulous raised eyebrow. "Really? So at the department you're just deputy no-name? You just can't exist in modern society without a last name."

He sips his drink as if to buy himself more time before finally, finally giving her a straight answer. "The humans think I'm called Jordan Parrish. It's a...necessary chicanery."

At last, something impersonal to call him. And don't think she missed the inclusion of 'humans' in that statement. Luckily they were still alone, even the barista had abandoned her post at the counter. "So you're not human?"

Shock flickers across his face, before a rueful smile crosses his lips. "You got me."

Contemptuously she arches an eyebrow. "No, really? So all that keeping an open mind stuff was bullshit you were feeding me because?" She knows she's actually being rude now, and she's been raise better than this, but she's also just so tired of being led around by the nose.

Once again he's the one flushing, though if she had to guess it's more anger than embarrassment this time, possibly. "It's true. I can't lie Lydia, even if I wanted to, but I can hedge. And I believe I'm pretty damn open minded about a lot of things. Like not always following police procedure with witnesses."

She wonders if there's some sort of unspoken blushing war between them. But she also finds she wants to scream, just to get some of this pressure off of her—not a banshee sort of scream she thinks just a plain old one. There's just so much going on that she doesn't understand yet. But she can comprehend being closed mouth about it, something seems to be targeting supernatural creatures and she'd be trying to fly under the radar too if she could.

"Then again, you're not human either."

She's insanely glad she hadn't been holding anything when he'd said that, otherwise she's sure she'd've dropped it. "What?"

"Lydia," she likes the way he straight up says her name, even if he's clearly a little exasperated. "I know you can't lie either."

That...how...she opens her mouth to tell him that he's wrong, but nothing comes out. "How...how do you know that?" It's something more recent than her banshee powers, sometime during the Nogitsune-fiasco she just found she couldn't speak lies anymore. And she hates how vulnerable that question sounds.

He sighs and scoots forward, offering his hands palms up to her. "Because Lydia...like I was kind of trying to say before, you're not who you think you are."

"Then who am I?" An open challenge, she knows if he believes it to be true he can speak it, but there has to be something this belief is based on.

Parrish curls his fingers then opens them again, seemingly entreating her to take them, and she has to fight hard not to. "I think the baby girl in those pictures you mentioned earlier isn't you. I think one day, a week or so after her birth, a faerie came across her while trying to hide you where you could never be found and made a changeling of her, and you took her place." He gives a quick shake of his head. "It's not like in the stories where you can tell your child isn't yours because it looks like an old man or becomes ravening. Your parents were probably relieved you didn't cry or fuss as much, even if you did seem to need more contact."—"You were always a quiet baby."—"Other than that your parents wouldn't have noticed anything."

Her heart's been caught in a vise, that's the only explanation for why it hurts the way it does. She wants to pick up her mug, or her scone, but she finds she isn't hungry anymore. Instead she stares at his hands, still laying there. Digging her nails into her palms so she doesn't do anything stupid she stands. "I want to go to the station now." She finds she'd rather get her statement taken a dozen times than continue this conversation.

Parrish gives a little frown. "Alright," he stands. "Don't worry it shouldn't take long."

That's not what she's worried about.

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next week: Lydia deals with failure and an old friend reappears.