It wasn't like Lydia wanted to spend her Saturday down at the vet clinic surrounded by a number of children and their parents. And she didn't show up because Scott said that everyone had to come. Not at all. Lydia went down to the vet clinic because all of her friends were there, and who didn't love a good adoption drive with a number of puppies and kittens and older dogs and cats just begging to be loved on? Of course, she did have Prada, but Prada was a bit of a snooty brat, and sometimes, Lydia could just appreciate a sweet little kitten napping on her lap, wanting nothing more than a bit of warmth and some rubbing behind the ears.

Lydia could recognize that and understand that.

What she couldn't stand were the children. Not that she didn't like kids. They were great. But they just weren't her cup of coffee. They had sticky fingers and were loud and ran around with far too much energy. Oh, she greatly loved the little boys with the flowers and the sweet smiles, and the little girls that kept their dresses clean. But the mass of children that was currently standing between her and the play area of kittens?

"Not scared of a few children, are you, Lydia?" That voice was warm and familiar, just behind her. How had he managed to sneak up without her knowing it? No wonder Allison was staring at her with wide eyes, and Scott looked ready to shift. Lydia didn't move, though. Didn't show that his presence bothered her in the slightest.

Hadn't he said he would leave her alone? Not seek her out? Oh, right. And then she had showed up at the same place he was twice in a twelve hour period, helped to save his nephew's life, and was now showing up here, where apparently he had to be. Scott had said everyone. She just never thought that he meant Peter Hale.

"Don't be absurd," she replied, turning slightly to look at the man behind her. She kept to looking at his nose. Not his eyes. Not his beautiful blue eyes. Not his mouth. Not that smirking, yet simple smile. Not his chest. Not to where she knew his shirt dipped down, exposing an expanse of skin that she had once dreamed of running her hands over. Once.

"Allow me to hazard a guess. You're interested in looking at the puppies and making them bow to your will. You seem to have mastered the art, after all."

She sniffed at him in response and turned back around to look at the group of children. "You make me sound almost petty. I already have a dog, sweetheart. I was actually going to look at the kittens." She turned around again and flashed him a smile. "I just love their claws."

His shocked expression amused her, and then he was smirking again, taking a step closer as his hand curled around her hip, where his bite was, and his free hand was offering for her to take her first steps through the crowd. She tried to ignore his hand and instead rolled her eyes as she looked at him.

"Letting the lady go first? Why Peter, I can't quite tell if you're being a gentleman, or if you're the one that's scared of a few children."

He scoffed in response, and she was certain he had some smart remark that would make her have to think quick on her toes, but Lydia was already making her way forward, away from his hand, and into the sea of children before her. She was careful about her steps and intent on her final destination, and somehow she made it, feeling rather victorious.

Allison looked ready to run towards her, and Scott still seemed to be seething, but Lydia just gave them both a shrug. To be honest, it was good to see him. Good to see him in a situation where they did not need each other's help. Where no one's life was on the line. It was neutral ground.

It was what she needed to heal, right? To see the beast that had broken her?

There she was, the one that Lydia wanted. All prim and proper, sitting there almost above the other kittens. She certainly did have some Persian in her. Not that Lydia actually would adopt a kitten. Prada would have a heart attack, and Lydia would only purchase a thoroughbred. Still, it was nice to imagine…

She had picked up the adorable ball of fluff and was turning back towards the sea of children, to smirk at Peter on the other side, when she decided to sink into one of the empty chairs first. The kitten was deposited into her lap, and Lydia looked up, a smirk of victory clear on her lips, when her jaw dropped.

Crouched in the middle of the group, with a few dogs and numerous children around him, was Peter Hale. She chanced a glance to the others, to see Stiles frozen in spot, Allison caught between horror and the need to kill something, and Scott… grinning. Did Scott know something the rest of them didn't?

"He had children, once," came a voice beside her. Lydia looked up, startled, to see Isaac talking to her. Isaac Lahey. He never really said much of anything, did he? At least, not to her. "Or, that's at least what Scott suspects. He saw things when Peter did that whole…" Isaacs hand flexed, as if his claws were extended, and she nodded her head.

"It's why he wanted him here. To let Peter have a bit of joy for once. To let him feel human again. To remind us that he was human once."

Lydia nodded her head, and she had to force the words out, even though she didn't mean them. "Well, it's not like I care anyways." Isaac ducked his head, fixing her with a look, as if he knew she was lying, and Lydia turned her head again to see that Peter was looking towards her, eyes, saddened.

She refused to look at him again, her eyes now caught on the kitten, and soon enough, another had joined the first on her lap. She kept taking occasional glances towards Peter, and then one glance up, he was gone. She sat up straight, and looked over towards Scott's group to see that they were all talking and working again.

"So, these are the little claws you prefer." His warm voice was coming from over her shoulder, and she suppressed a shudder, a need to melt, a smile. Her head nodded slightly, and she closed her eyes for a moment.

"I saw you made new friends," she replied, her voice honey sweet. In truth, she was a little amazed. She did care, she had realized. Well, not realized. She had always known. More, she had admitted to herself. "Amazing. The only things that seem to like you are dogs and children. And here I was thinking they were good judges of character."

His laughter was not his normal smirking, condescending laugh, but instead one that came fully from the heart. She finally did turn in the chair to look at him, eyes hurting slightly as she refused to rise from the chair or tilt her neck back.

"It seems that the kittens are not the only one with claws," he said, his eyes almost dancing as he looked down at her.

"And you, Peter Hale, are amazingly good with children. Why is that?"

He seemed to flinch back, and she knew that the mark had been a strong one. Still, that didn't change the fact she felt a pang of guilt for her comment. That fire, that dancing, that smirk, it was gone now. All that was left was a bit of emptiness.

"If you're asking whether or not I had children, the answer is no. I never had any children. Amusing, that you're the first one to even hint at the question Scott seems to be dancing around. The truth is, and I rarely give the truth, so appreciate this, I was younger than my sister, than our cousins, and older than their children. The inbetween. The one that was different. The children? They didn't judge. They didn't care. Children run and live their lives without prejudice or judgement, at least, until it's taught to them. It's nice, every once in a while, to not be completely hated."

She didn't say anything for a moment, and her eyes drifted back down to the kitten in her lap. It seemed to have fallen asleep, her companion had tottered off Lydia's lap, and now she was just left in silence.

A small hand tugged at the edge of Lydia's skirt, and her eyes flickered to the holder, ready to snap, when she saw a beautiful child, dressed in a pretty little outfit, smiling at her. "Are you a princess?"

Lydia wasn't quite sure how to respond. Her mouth opened up, but Peter came to her rescue, sinking down to one knee, and lifting up one of the kittens for the girl to pet. "Oh, no. Lydia is no Princess. Princesses wear pretty gowns and command attention and respect, and they are trying to find their Prince Charming. She is actually a Queen. Can't you tell, by how regal she is, sitting there?"

The girl seemed to study him, trying to judge whether or not she believed him, then turned back to study Lydia, who was staring at the girl, not sure how to reply. Her eyes then flicked back to Peter, not even sure what the hell to make of him anymore.

"Does that make you her Prince Charming?" Well, this child was certainly inquisitive. Peter was laughing in response, likely coming up with some smart remark to say in response, when Lydia interrupted him. She was, after all, the Queen.

"He's my Pet," she replied to the girl, smiling softly at her. "The difference between a Princess and a Queen is that a Queen knows she can rule without a man."

The girl didn't seem to like that answer, but then something else caught her eye, and she was running off. Lydia was smirking a little, and she turned her attention back towards Peter, who was staring at her.

"Your Pet?" he hissed, and she wasn't quite sure if he was annoyed, or amused.

"You bit me," she replied. It was the first time that had ever been said out loud, but it was almost in jest. "That doesn't exactly make you Prince Charming."

"I found you, and understood you, when no one else noticed."

She laughed in response, not even letting that slap hit her hard. "Fine, then. Do you want to be my bodyguard? My advisor? Take the position. It's yours." It amazed her he hadn't demanded King.

He settled back, as if he had some victory, and pushed himself up from where he had been kneeling for the child.

"You're not that terrible with children," Peter said, looking down at her.

"Neither are you," she replied, her attention back on the kitten. She froze for a moment as he stepped closer and leaned forward, brushing his large hand over the kitten's body, his hand never once touching her skin, but his lips certainly brushing against her hair.

"You won't see me as the bad guy for ever, Lydia. You might one day see me as something of a body guard, or as an advisor." His words were soft, meant only for her, and she didn't even try to hide her shiver at his closeness.

"Maybe I already-"

She turned her head to look at him, and saw that he was gone. Her lips pressed together and she said nothing. All eyes were on her again, and she turned her head to look at the group. She said nothing, and none of them made a movement towards her.

Another little girl tottered over, asking about how to become a Queen. Instead of recoiling and pulling from the children, Lydia let the girls all join her as she spoke about how to never let a man make you feel less than you were, and about how, if they were going to be Queens, they had to respect themselves and be sure of their decisions. At one point, she looked up to see Peter back where they had started, watching her.

Watching her, as if watching his Queen.