Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, especially the ones who gave me helpful tips; you know who you are. You gave me the incentive and motivation to write this chapter. Hope you like it! Reread and re-edited it, hope I got all the typos this time! Next chapter will be rather long, so it might be a day or two in the making...

SONG: Chasing Cars - Snow Patrol

Stiles caught a whiff of expensive perfume just before a head of silky strawberry blonde hair was thrust into his room, a slight smile on her face. What the hell was Lydia doing here? She climbed the rest of the way in, her smile a little awkward and unsure. It wasn't that he wasn't happy to see her, because he did still like her, he just wasn't sure what the fuck she was doing in his room. She had been nicer to him since he had been bitten, and even more friendly, still, once she was also turned, and had joined the pack, but still... she never showed much interest in hanging out with him solo. And she had never been in his room before. He glanced around, a little embarassed at the state it was in. It was messy, but at least he had developed a habit of cleansing any offending smells from the area, since his senses were so much more heightened now. So at least there was that. He was glad he had jerked it in the shower, earlier, and not in his bed, or that would have been embarassing, since he couldn't do any laundry until tomorrow, and she would definitely have been able to smell it.

She smelled delicious, a faint hint of her expensive perfume- much less than she used to use- mixed with her own natural scent...and the almost overpowering smell of whiskey. She had a bottle clutched in her hand, a big one, and it was almost gone. Figures. The only way Lydia Martin would be in his room of her own free will was if she were drunk. But, she didn't really look all that drunk, just slightly tipsy. Stiles couldn't help but be hyper aware, and self-concious, of his surroundings, and his state of undress. He had on only a pair of pajama pants and nothing else. They were untied, so they slung low on his hips, and he had to resist the urge to hike them up and tie the strings tight.

It wasn't as if she hadn't seen him mostly naked before. After a full moon night, the pack usually woke up in the forest together, in a big cuddly puppy pile, all in various states of undress, clothing usually ruined. Sometimes it got a little awkward, since they had to walk all the way back to Derek's house in whatever clothing they had to cover themselves, but they had quickly grown accustomed to it and learned to be comfortable in their own skins. They had no choice, really. But this was different. He was lounging in his messy room, thinking about Derek, getting ready to climb into bed, and she had crawled through his window, entering his space, his territory, without permission... she had invaded his Stiles-time. He was only slightly offended, since it was Lydia Martin, after all. The hottest girl he had ever seen in his life.

She staggered toward him, then stopped, pausing before advancing again, a little more surefooted this time. Her smile widened as she got closer. He was only a few feet away, but she was walking slowly, as if giving him time to flee. He did have the urge to back away from her, from that strange look in her eyes, but managed to restrain himself, staring her down in a vaguely challenging way. What the hell was she doing? As she drew closer, the stench of the whiskey got stronger. Stiles hadn't had a good drink since he had been turned, but now, he assumed, it took alot more to inebriate a werewolf than it did a normal human, if the nearly-empty bottle in her hand was any indicator. She brought it to her lips and drained the rest of it, then smacked the empty bottle down on his desk as she got to it. He wasn't sure when her smile, her expression, her scent, had changed from awkward and a little unsure to predatory and posessive, and he wasn't sure how he felt about that.

On one hand, the way she looked up at him was inviting and seductive and hot as fuck. On the other hand, it was a challenge, almost a claim of ownership, that look in her eyes. He decided he didn't like it, and he emulated Derek with a fierce scowl.

"What are you doing here, Lydia?" His voice was low and quiet, but forceful. She pouted prettily as she stopped in front of him, running a couple fingertips ever so lightly down the bare skin of his abdomen.

"What, aren't you happy to see me, Stiles? Didn't you once tell me that you have been in love with me since elementary school, huh?" She licked her lips and smiled at him, but it wasn't one of her usual sly smiles, it was all teeth, and a little too fierce. What had gotten into her?

"What does that have to do with anything?" He asked, almost coldly, but not quite. Who was she to toy with him and mock him for his feelings? He had told himself he wouldn't give her that kind of power over him again.

Her pout got heavier, a fake sad look on her face as she leaned into him, pressing against him, never breaking eye contact. Stiles just stared her down, jaw clenched.

Lydia laughed, short and harsh. "Don't try to be something you're not, Stiles. We both know you want me." She slowly reached up and wrapped her arm around his neck, pressing her body tight to his, licking her lips as her hand played with the hair at his nape. He didn't feel the same way about her as he used to. Of course he still wanted her, but he wasn't stupid in love with her any more.

He gripped her hips, hard, digging his fingers in, and she smirked.

"You know, Lydia...it seems like you're the one who wants me..." and he gave her a smirk of his own. Her brow wrinkled slightly, and she bit her lip, but she didn't deny it. His smirk became even more self-satisfied and he bared his teeth. "That's what I thought." He moved one hand from her hip to fist in her hair, then he took her mouth. Hard and fierce, lips melting against hers, nipping and biting and sucking, and she couldn't help the little moan she let out before she started kissing him back, trying to take control of the kiss. But he wouldn't let her.

She grabbed his hips and tried to push him backwards, towards the bed, but he resisted. He had no intention of fucking Lydia, none at all. That would just cause unnecessary tension in the pack. Plus, he could smell Jackson on her, and that definitely was not a turn on. He broke away from her and took a deep breath. Her lips were swollen, eyes heavy-lidded, but she somehow still managed to look annoyed and haughty.

"You're not getting what you came here for, Lydia," he ground out, and her chin trembled. This was all about power and control, he saw that now. She needed to dominate him, to control him, because she was feeling so out of control, for whatever reason. But he wasn't one to be dominated and used as a plaything, as a fucktoy. Not any more. Not by her.

He gripped her shoulders in his hands and peeled her off of him, much to her obvious displeasure.

"Talk to me, Lydia," he said, voice gentler, softer than it had been before, cajoling. "What has gotten into you?" She didn't look like she was going to tell him. She stared at the floor, avoiding eye contact now, and his brow knitted with worry. Lydia could be a bitch, and she could be selfish, but he still cared about her. Even if she was trying to use him. That was just Lydia. "Lydia-" he started, but she interrupted him.

"We had a fight, okay? He said- that I was- he said some awful stuff...I just wanted a little comfort..." He knew the 'he' she was talking about was Jackson. Who else would it be? She looked up at him under wet lashes, still trying to convince him to give her what she wanted. He sighed and pulled her into his arms, hugging her, pressing her head against his chest. She growled and struggled against him, pushing on his chest, so he let her go. "You're gay, aren't you?" she demanded angrily, and Stiles could feel his jaw drop. Then he sputtered a nervous laugh.

"No, I'm not gay, Lydia. You're beautiful, and you're right, I do want you, but-"

Lydia finished for him. "But you're in love with Derek!" Stiles sputtered and stammered, cheeks red, not knowing wat to say, not knowing how to speak. Was he that transparent? He didn't think he was in love with Derek, exactly, but he sure wanted to fuck him, and she was a woman, so the lust and want she read on him probably translated into love, in her eyes. Lydia sighed and turned away from him, giving him her back, as he stood there spluttering helplessly.

"No! I'm not!" He finally managed to get out. But Lydia didn't seem to hear him, or else she didn't care.

"It's not obvious," she muttered, her back still to him, her voice holding an edge to it that he didn't really like. "I'm just perceptive. I don't think anyone else even realizes it. Oh, sure they know you want to fuck him-" Stiles spluttered and stammered some more "-but no one realizes that's not all it is." She turned to face him with an odd look on her face, then she smiled in a knowing way. "I won't tell anyone, either...on one condition."

Stiles growled. "I'm not having sex with you, Lydia!"

Lydia sighed, then chuckled, but her face took on an innocent look he knew was an act. "That's not the condition. I don't really have anywhere to go tonight...and I don't want to be alone..." Stiles just looked at her, not really sure what she was getting at. She rolled her eyes, innocence falling away and being replaced by exasperation. "Can I sleep here? Just for tonight...maybe get a ride to school in the morning?" She batted her eyelashes prettily.

Even after everything that had happened, her trying to use him and all, he couldn't say no to that face. He knew she was trying to make Jackson jealous, too. It was okay, as long as they didn't have sex. Jacskon would be able to smell that. Stiles scent would already be all over her, and even more if she slept there, but it was different. As long as they didn't have sex, Lydia could use Stiles to make Jackson jealous. It was a complicated dynamic between the pack, but pretty much the only way to cross a line when it came to another 'wolf's mate was to fuck them. Touching and cuddling was completely normal with the pack, so, while the strength of his scent on Lydia, and seeing Stiles give her a ride to school- obvioulsy displaying that she head spent the night with him- might make Jackson jealous, he was in no position to start anything, because it was perfectly acceptable, as long as she didn't smell like sex.

Stiles sighed in a put-upon way that was mostly just for show and then nodded shortly. "Alright, you can stay...but I'm not giving up my bed for you."

She pouted at his lack of chivalry, then shrugged with a devious smirk. "That's all right, we can share it." When she saw his nonchalant shrug, she got all huffy. But then she started to strip. Stiles turned away, to his Ipod, and turned off the song that was about halfway through. 'Chasing Cars', by Snow Patrol. Lydia whined. "Hey! I like that song!"

Stiles scoffed. "I can't sleep with the music on." Then he flipped off the lamp on his desk and climbed into bed, leaving a spot for Lydia. He could still see almost perfectly from the moonlight streaming through the window. He knew that was going to get on his nerves...but he was already in bed. "Close the curtains," he told Lydia, turning over and getting comfortable. She made an outraged noise at his order. He ignored her.

"You could say please!" she growled.

"I don't have to let you sleep here," was all he said, eyes closing. She growled again, but shut the curtains. He chuckled.

"Shut up," she grumbled as she climbed into bed with him.

He didn't realize until she pressed up against his back, but she was wearing only her bra and panties. His breath hitched, but he kept his eyes closed, body turned firmly away from her. She sighed lightly, breath gusting against his neck and giving him goosebumps. "G'night," she murmured breathily, cuddling up to his back. "Night," he said back, maybe a little curtly. How the fates hated him. If only Lydia had come at him like that a few months ago, when he was crazy about her and would do anything for her. Maybe something could have happened between them, and maybe he wouldn't be desperately lusting after Derek right now, wishing it was him in his bed instead of a beautiful girl.

He considered Lydia's theory, that he was in love with Derek, thought about it for a moment, then dismissed it. Ridiculous. Impossible. He just wanted him, that was all. As Stiles drifted into sleep with the lulling sound if Lydia's breath at his back, and thoughts of Derek in his head, he allowed himself to imagine, just for an instant, that it was true...

Sorry to disappoint everyone who was hoping it would be Derek at Stiles' window! I can't just jump right into things with them yet! Have some patience! IT'S COMING! hehe. Oh, and sorry if this chapter is a little... weird. I wrote it at 430 in the morning, half asleep and in pain, because I had the idea in my head and wanted to get it out before I forgot it. I read over it and edited it, but it's still weird, lol.

Someone is going to catch them in bed together in the morning... who's it gonna be? Sherrif Stillinkski? Scott? Jackson? Derek? Allison? Someone else...?