prompt: Something is after Lydia and the closest place to go is Derek's. However, instead of Derek, Peter is there and he protects her from the monster. Lydia's opinion on him changes just slightly as he fights for her. Doesn't have to be romantic, thanks :))


Lydia cursed, kicking off her heels before she sprang into a sprint, willing her feet to carry her to safety as fast as possible. She hadn't been expecting to run into… whatever the hell the thing chasing her was. She'd just wanted to walk home from Jungle in peace and go to bed after a long night of dancing.

And to be fair, it had been pretty quiet in Beacon Hills for the last few months. Until now of course.

She ran, dress riding up around her hips and giving anyone who might see her a nice view of the black lace panties she was wearing. The creature was behind her, she could hear it's claws scrape against the pavement and it's growl sounded through the alley. She was lucky, it didn't seem to have the same speed as her werewolf friends.

Which wasn't to say the thing wasn't fast, because it was and if she didn't get somewhere safe soon she was toast.

A frantic glance around brought some relief though. She was nearby Derek's, and he hadn't been at the club with them that night, which meant he had to be home. Because if he wasn't home she was dead and that was unacceptable.

There was no time to try to get to the building and get inside. Instead, she screamed.

"DEREKKKKKK!"

The sound of her voice echoed all around her and it seemed to have enraged the creature behind her even more, if the rumbling growl was anything to go by. She picked up speed, forcing her body to its limits. Derek's building came into view and she screamed again.

The creature behind her let out some kind of half roar, half growl and it sent a shock of new terror through her. She didn't want to die like this. Where the fuck was Derek?

And then there was more noise behind her, a snarling sound that she definitely recognized -the sound of wolf.

She glanced backwards to find not Derek, but Peter of all people, facing off with the creature, fully shifted into his beta form and ripping into the monster, which was growling and making choking noises. Lydia stopped, watching wide-eyed as they fought. Blood was everywhere and it wasn't long before the thing collapsed into a pile of its own gore.

Peter turned to face her, blood soaking his v-neck and splattered across his face, his eyes focused on her.

"Are you alright?" he asked, looking her up and down, presumably to check for some kind of injury.

Lydia remembered her dress and hastily pulled it down. Her relationship with Peter was… interesting, and she wasn't exactly sure she wanted him looking at her panties. And if she did that wasn't a part of herself she was willing to face yet.

"I'm fine," she replied, straightening her spine. "But I lost my shoes."

"Were they expensive?" he asked, his tone genuine rather than mocking.

"Yes." They were two-hundred dollar brand new Jeffrey Campbell boots she was definitely not ready to part with.

Peter nodded and turned away from her again, wandering back the way she had come. He returned a minute later, her shoes in hand. It even looked like he'd wiped the blood from his hand onto his jeans just to avoid staining them. Lydia felt something inside her chest start to stir but she promptly squished it back down.

"Thanks," she said, taking the proffered boots.

"You're welcome," Peter replied. They were standing close, probably too close, and Lydia had expected him to step away when she took the boots but he didn't. Instead he just looked down at her, his expression unreadable. She fought off the urge to fidget. Lydia Martin did not fidget.

"Come on," he said after a moment. "I have Chinese at the loft, you must be hungry."

Lydia narrowed her eyes. "Where's Derek?"

He shrugged. "Out somewhere. I'm not going to attack you Lydia, if that's what you're worried about. If it escaped your notice, I did just save your life."

She stared at him for another long moment. It was the look that made most boys at school squirm and sweat. But Peter wasn't some high school boy and he just stared back, one eyebrow raised.

"Fine," she said. "As long as you have sesame chicken."