"How about this one?" Allison says, holding the checkered dress up to herself for Lydia to examine.
"Oh, Allison," Lydia says, shaking her head pityingly. "Sweetheart, that makes you look like a coal miner. This looks far better."
She holds out a short bright pink dress with a modest V-neck and colorful floral pattern with a satisfied smile.
"Uh, it's not really my style," Allison says, trying not to sounding judgmental.
"I know, that's why you should buy it," Lydia says brightly, throwing the dress over her shoulder with the others and pulls Allison further into the dress section of the Beacon Hills Macy's.
"If you like it so much why don't you buy it?" Allison asks, amused despite herself at Lydia's affectations. She knows a lot of people, like her dad and Scott, didn't really understand her friendship with Lydia in the beginning. They fell for her shallow popular girl act and didn't see that she doesn't mean even half the things she says, using sarcasm and fake stupidity to hide her true self like a veil between her and the rest of the world. Allison's not sure what the root of her deep-seated insecurity is that makes her feel like she has to hide herself away, but she's gotten better since she joined their little supernatural group. At least something good has come from it.
"Oh, Allison, with my hair it would look like I'd burst into bloom," Lydia says patronizingly and picks up another dress, a dark green this time. "Hmm. What do you think about this one?"
"It is your color," Allison replies, amused by the way Lydia turns from side to side, examining her reflection in the mirror on the wall.
"It really is," Lydia says, sounding satisfied and flounces off to the next set of dresses. Allison follows, with a bit of an eyeroll at Lydia's dramatics.
They spend nearly half an hour more looking at dresses before Allison grows tired of shopping- she definitely does not have Lydia's stamina-and wanders into the men's section next door. She's idly looking at a jacket that seems like something her dad might wear when a deep blue t-shirt shirt with a scoop neck on a display table catches her eye.
This would look good on Isaac, she thinks, reaching over to pick up. She unfolds it and holds it up, examining it carefully. It's plain, looking like something you could buy at American Apparel, but she can tell just by the feel of the fabric that it is much better quality. It would go well with his eyes.
She checks the price tag and winces. $49.95. And she knows instinctively that Isaac would not appreciate such an expensive gift, even though Allison's family has more than enough money than she and her father know what to do with. Or appreciate any gift, really. Even Scott's well-meaning overtures of friendship seem to disconcert him.
"For Scott?" Lydia says from behind her and Allison jumps a bit, startled that she hadn't heard her coming.
"Uh, no," Allison says, turning around and dropping her hands. Inexplicably, she feels herself start to blush.
"Not really his color, blue," Lydia says critically, looking over at the other shirts on the display. "He looks better in red, like this one."
"I'm not going to spend $50 on something he could just buy at the Gap," Allison say quickly, putting the shirt back on the table without folding it. "Are you going to try those on?"
Allison's not a complete idiot. She knows there's...something between her and Isaac. She'd never really considered it before that weird dream, but after Isaac had nearly been killed it was hard to deny. But she's dating Scott. And things are great between them, they really are. Allison wouldn't want to ruin it for some half-formed feeling she gets when she sits down next to Isaac.
She's not sure if Isaac feels the same way, anyway. Sometimes she swears he does with the soft way her looks at her, but other times it feels like he's still a little wary of her and doesn't want to get too close. His looks are never sexual either. He just...sometimes he looks at her with admiration, more than anything else. And she has no clue what that means. They're friends, yes, but Allison knows she has little idea of what goes on in his head.
So she ignores it, pushes it back to the back of her mind. It will go away eventually, she tells herself. He saved her and she's just confusing her gratitude to him with a crush. And it's not like she doesn't have other things to worry about with the threat of rogue hunters hanging over all their heads.
Isaac is...there a lot more now, though. Now that Scott's teaching him how to control his powers, Scott has decided to adopt Isaac into their group, much to the latter's confusion. They sit with him at lunch now and talk to him in class and in the hallways. Lydia, Stiles, and Malia aren't all that pleased about this arrangement, but they humor Scott's good intentions and try not to bait Isaac. Or well, Lydia and Malia try. Stiles was kind of always going to be a lost cause.
Isaac doesn't seem to know what to think about the whole idea, making Allison wonder if he's ever even had friends before. He doesn't try and ditch them, though. She can tell by his tentative half-smiles that he's warming up to Scott at least, not that that surprises her. Everyone likes Scott.
Scott giving him the Werewolf 101 seems to be going okay too. It's only been a week and from what Scott tells her they haven't made much progress, but at least they're getting along. Allison never really gave it much thought before, but she supposes that finding an anchor must be really difficult if you had no family and were generally distrustful of people. She'd have thought that Chantille would be a good choice, except that it seemed Isaac didn't even trust her enough to tell her about his werewolf nature.
She tried to talk to him about it a couple times, but Isaac always quickly changed the subject. He's never liked talking about himself. Allison had always thought that Scott didn't really like being a werewolf, but he's nothing compared to Isaac, who flinches at the mere reminder that he's not human.
Her dad is gone most of the weekend looking for leads on the hunters after them, so Allison spends most of the weekend hanging out with Lydia and having sex with Scott in her blissfully empty apartment.
After they're finally done at Macy's, Allison and Lydia go out for dinner before they part ways for the night, Lydia begging off a movie night at her house. So Allison invites Scott over to her apartment instead to watch The Hangover, not that they end up seeing anything but the first ten minutes.
"Oh, God," Allison moans, her arms collapsing under her weight, causing her to fall face first onto her pillow.
Scott spits out a mouthful of her hair and rolls off her onto his side, rubbing a soothing hand over her stomach.
"Good?" he asks gently and Allison rolls over onto her back, wincing a bit at the pins and needles in her knees and the soreness in her toes from curling them so hard.
"Mmm, yeah," she mutters, pressing her face into his neck and entwining their legs together. "Think the neighbors heard?"
"Well, you were kind of loud," Scott says absently, stroking her hair back and then groans, letting his head fall back to the pillow. "Crap, what if we get a noise complaint?"
Allison giggles at the thought and throws her arm over Scott's chest, scooting closer so that they're pressed together in nearly every way. "In this building? Please, the people who live here are much too uptight to call up the superintendent and explain exactly what the problem is. That or they're getting off on it."
"Allison!" Scott protests, sounding scandalized and Allison grins up at him to see the appalled look on his face at the thought of other people listening to them.
"C'mon," Allison says coyly, stroking a hand through his sweat-soaked hair. "You and me, with the headboard banging against the wall, and the moaning, and the growling." She leans up to whisper in his ear. "You have super-hearing, right? Anyone in the building get a little too excited?"
"Nooo," Scott moans, dropping his head down to hide his face in her breasts. "Don't say things like that, oh, my God, Allison."
Allison snickers, still petting his hair, and he's quiet for a minute before he starts mouthing at her left breast, bring up his hand to squeeze the other one gently.
"I don't growl," he says reproachfully, looking up at her with disappointed puppy dog eyes. It doesn't really work with her nipple in his mouth, his hand cupping her other breast firmly.
"Yeah, you do," Allison says breathlessly, arching her back a little as he swirls his tongue around her nipple. "Mmm. Don't start anything you can't finish."
"I'm a werewolf, Allison," Scott says, a little smugly, his hand drifting down between her legs. "You don't have to worry about that."
"Yeah?" Allison says challengingly, and then rolls them over, pinning Scott's arms over his head. His eyes go very wide and then get dazed and unfocused at she rubs against his erection.
"Oh," he gasps, straining a little against her grip, but he doesn't break it. The thought of that, the fact that he could so easily break free but chooses not to sends a hot wave of lust aching through her. She can practically feel herself getting wetter by the second.
"Allison," Scott moans, bucking his hips to get more friction on his dick, already wet with precome. "Condom?"
"In a minute," Allison says, her voice shaking with the effort not to just sink down on him now. She leans down, keeping a firm hold on his wrists, until her breasts hang down over his face.
Scott whimpers a little, but tilts his head up to kiss them dutifully and Allison grits her teeth against the urge to just take him like this, bare and hot, sliding up against her just right where she needs him. Allison scoots back a little to escape temptation and leans down to kiss the tattoo on his bicep, laving her tongue over it.
"Oh, shit," Scott moans, jerking his head to the side to capture her mouth.
They kiss, wet and messy while Scott bucks under her, low growls forcing their way out of his mouth even as he tries to hold them back. Allison grinds against him as long as she can, gripping his wrists tightly, before the ache between her legs becomes too great and she has to roll off to get a condom.
"Hold onto the headboard," she whispers in his ear, rolling the condom onto his dick.
"Oh, Jesus, Allison," Scott groans and grabs onto the bars of her headboard and Allison moans in response at the pretty picture he makes spread out on her bed.
She rides him as hard as she can go, her thigh muscles aching, one hand gripping the top of the headboard, while the other is rubbing at her clit. She has to close her eyes to concentrate, to get focus on getting him as deep inside of her as she can, but she can feel Scott's eyes on her, watching her every move.
After a couple minutes her thighs are burning and start shaking weakly, and Allison lets out a disappointed groan as she realizes she can't do this for much longer.
"Here, c'mere," Scott gasps, letting go of the headboard and gripping her hips with both hands, lifting her up and down with far more ease than a human would be able to.
"Scott!" Allison moans, throwing her head back, gripping the headboard tighter as he holds her steady with firm hands as he fucks her. "Yeah, like that-oh."
Her fingers stumble over her clit, but it doesn't matter she's already coming, clenching down around him and letting out a sharp cry of pleasure as her orgasm rolls through her. She barely hears Scott swearing underneath her as his hips jerk helplessly, his fingers digging into her hips.
When Allison's done, she tips forward and collapses onto him, Scott letting out a weak grunt of protest. His arms come up around her waist and he tips her off to the side gently while Allison pants. She hears him getting rid of the condom and smiles sleepily as he pulls the covers over them, wrapping an arm around Allison's shoulders and bringing her in close.
"Who couldn't finish what they started now?" he whispers, sounding far too pleased with himself and Allison groans, headbutting him weakly.
"Shut up," she says, throwing her arm over his chest and snuggles into the space between his shoulder and neck. "And I finished alright."
"Yeah, you did."
Allison rolls her eyes, but she's too tired to protest. She drifts off for a bit until she starts to feel kind of gross and then goes to take a shower. When she comes back, toweling down her hair, Scott is fast asleep in her bed, limbs splayed out every which way.
"Scott," she says, a random thought occurring to her. "Scott, wake up."
"Mm, I'm up," Scott says, jolting awake sitting up quickly, his hair a disaster. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing, just..." Allison pauses and throws the towel on her dresser before turning off the lights and getting back into bed with him, careful of the aching between her legs and in her thigh muscles. "What's going on with Lydia and her mom?"
Scott lies back down and curls into her shoulder, her wet hair brushing his cheek.
"She didn't take the whole banshee thing well," he says after a couple seconds, sounding a little sad.
"Yeah, that I gathered."
"She didn't want Lydia to hang out with us any more," Scott continues, closing his eyes and breathing slowly. Allison can't see his face too well in the dark, but he looks very serious. "She even tried to transfer her to a boarding school after the end of last semester. Earlier this year we were over at Stiles's, she kept calling Lydia to figure out where she was, but Lydia was ignoring her. So she went looking at all our houses, and when she found us at Stiles's, she practically dragged her out to the car and screamed at us that if we came near Lydia again she'd tell everyone about us. Lydia said she calmed her down and apparently came up with some deal that she'd move in with her dad if she didn't stop trying to keep her away from us, but she won't talk about the details."
"They're still not getting along, though, right?" Allison says quietly, leaning her head against Scott's.
"No," he replies regretfully, reaching over to grab her hand, lacing their fingers together over her comforter. "She's not talking about it with you either?"
"No," Allison says, closing her eyes and pressing her nose into his hair, inhaling the scent of his shampoo and sweat. "Lydia doesn't really like to talk about herself, though."
"I wish she knew she could," Scott says, sounding frustrated. "I mean, after you...before you...She wouldn't talk to me. About anything. I just..." He shudders and Allison grips his hand harder, as if that could somehow erase the anxiety they both feel at the mere mention of those months following her death.
"I wish she trusted us more," he adds eventually, sounding troubled.
Allison wishes that too, but she knows that Lydia and Scott's friendship isn't even a one-way street, much less a two-way one. Scott would never burden Lydia with his troubles and fears. He'd never even consider it. Scott spends all his energy on other people and does not expect the same consideration in return. It's no surprise that someone as proud as Lydia would not want to add more to his plate, especially when it's something so personal as the relationship between her and her mother, and there are hunters after them.
"I'll try and talk to her about it again," Allison promises, and Scott lifts his head to smile at her before leaning down to kiss her bare chest, right over her heart.
Oh, Scott, Allison thinks and strokes his cheek gently with the backs of her fingers. She shifts closer to him and presses her forehead against his, thinking that if things could just stay like this, then everything might be alright. But they're not that lucky and she knows it.
A/N: This chapter is brought to you by Macy's, the ultimate shopping destination for supernatural teens. Please review!