Malia bounces on her heels, eager to start tracking the manticore; but she and Parrish have to wait for everyone else to get into position first. To give herself something to do she sneaks another glance at Parrish, as if he'd changed again in the minute or so since she last looked.
Then again he'd managed to produce a sword after Scott and the others had left. So far she's only seen the handle part –the metal sticking out on the sides is twisted into branches while there are silver vines slightly raised on the bit she assumes his hands actually hold– but she doesn't doubt that it's sharp and that Parrish is more than willing to use it.
She's got her ears attuned to their surroundings so the crackling of branches has her instantly alert. Please don't be the manticore, she's more than happy to track and chase it, but she'd rather not be on the receiving end of the reverse.
But a few seconds later Peter steps out from the trees.
She blinks at him in surprise, she hasn't seen her sire since they returned from finding her mom. So seeing him here is unexpected. Before she can even ask what he's doing here though Parrish speaks.
"Took you long enough."
Peter rolls his eyes. "I took the scenic route."
There's no chance for her to even try and start to think about what that might mean; because the radio attached to her pants crackles. "We're in position," Stiles tells her.
Unclipping it she forces herself to remember which button she's supposed to press to talk herself. Her thumb slides towards the one at the top and she's pretty damn sure it's the right one. Pressing it she speaks into the walky-talky. "Alright, heading in."
Out of the corner of her eye she sees Peter shift into beta form as they start walking and she finds herself following suit. Parrish's only a few steps behind the two of them.
"Think you can keep up Jordan?" It sounds like her sire is teasing the other man.
Parrish huffs, "I'm fast when I want to be."
But she tunes out their conversation as fast as she can. She's got a manticore to find.
000
Danny sits next to Lydia on her couch and absently checks his phone for the fifth time in ten minutes. Without her even having to look Lydia's hand shoots out trapping his phone against his jeans before he can put back. "Stop that," she says quietly, looking like she's still paying attention to Shilo on screen singing about being infected. "I'm pretty damn sure if he calls you'll know."
She's right of course, he's got his ringer turned all the way up, he'd have to suddenly go deaf to miss any phone call at the moment. He extracts his phone and hand from hers and puts his phone away. "I just. . ." He has no idea how to finish that. In fact there's a bit of him that hates that even after six month's he's still not over Ethan.
Lydia rolls her eyes affectionately. "I know. But give it time." Time is pretty much all Danny's given it, or at least that's what it feels like.
"I wanna watch the movie, can you two be quiet please?" Liam's voice breaks through their private bubble, reminding Danny that there are 'kids' present. Danny's not quite sure what to think of either of them; they seem to be as if someone had taken Scott and Stiles and puppies and just dumped them all together in a vat. Also Liam is about the most polite fifteen year old Danny's ever met.
In response Lydia tosses a popcorn kernel at him, except she hits Mason instead. "Sorry," she stage whispers before trying again. This time at least she gets past Mason, but Liam catches it before it hits him. "Shush, you," she sticks her tongue out like the adult she is.
Danny just rolls his eyes at all of them.
"Shush you." Mason replies easily, stealing a handful of popcorn from the Lydia's bowl.
They fall silent for about all of twenty minutes, then Lydia leans towards him. "Lets see if we can get Zydrate stuck in their heads."
He sighs.
000
Kira sits, lotus fashion, on the ground; breathing deeply and trying to clear her mind like mom taught her, Ten no Hinoken's blade resting across her knees. On either side of her she can hear Scott and Stiles shifting weight every so often, Scott on her left is a soothing buzz, while Stiles gives off jerky and erratic.
Mentally she takes the feeling of their auras and puts it off to the side, enough that they're less of a distraction, and focuses her attention upwards. The day's overcast, meaning it should at least be a little easier for her to call down real lightning.
After La Igelesia she'd asked her mom for lightning lessons, or at least as much as her mom could teach her; if she'd known beforehand that she could pull and direct electricity from objects maybe things would have gone completely different. But she puts that annoyed feeling aside too, dwelling on it's just going to distract her.
More deep breaths and she starts to try and feel the streamers that will be trailing down to the ground.
They're faint, like she'd expected considering the weather, but there. But none of them are truly enough to do more than stun the manticore when it gets here; she needs a killer.
So she spreads her net a little wider, praying feverishly that she can find what she's looking for.
There are enough negative streamers that if push came to shove she could just hit the manticore repeatedly until it died. Lightning's fast enough that she could probably do that before it really hurt anyone else.
But why do that when you could do it in one?
A loud staticky buzz fills her mind, nearly distracting her from her lightning search. A guy's voice, and she nearly snaps that everyone needs to shut up! She breaths again and lets it flow out, don't dwell. But she's going to guess that her time's just grown exponentially shorter.
She's about to start panicking about it when she finally hits jackpot. Positive.
It's about a mile out, which she's perfectly fine with. As fast as she can she grounds Scott and Stiles; and feeling so very glad she insisted this happen in a clearing, she's not sure she could ground trees just yet. Them as safe as she can make them she starts sending up her own negative streamer. Lightning doesn't strike until two streamers meet.
She does it slowly though, to give Malia and Jordan time to actually drive the manticore where it needs to be. It turns out to be like a highly dangerous game of Marco Polo: high enough that she starts drawing the positive streamer towards them, but having her own streamer be where the positive isn't to prevent early discharge.
An angry roar fills the air, and Scott snarls.
Continuing to tease the positive streamer she slowly rises, taking a guard position: feet apart, Ten no Hinoken pointed straight ahead the tip drifting down just enough.
Sweat begins to bead on her brow as she readies herself; La Igelesia had been a fluke and she hasn't exactly had that much time to practice this thanks to school and lacrosse. But that doesn't mean she won't do it. She will and in the process she'll save the whole town.
There's a second snarl from Scott and she tenses, bushes crash and she acts.
Opening her eyes, all the better to actually aim, she thrusts her negative stream straight up at the positive one. Neutralization happens before her brain can even process it; but she doesn't need her brain to do it, not when she's got instinct to guide her.
Her body fills with heat and power, too much in fact. But she holds it in, preventing discharge until she wants it.
Electricity will always follow the path of least resistance. There's the manticore she tilts her sword slightly to the left and. . .
A thunderclap echoes right in her ear, rattling her very bones. Now that the lightning's discharged she feels washed out and hollow, like a glass bottle. Knees shaking she sinks to the ground, Scott, being a sweetheart, catches her before she manages to completely collapse.
He's throwing off heat, and she's so fucking grateful. She burrows in, sucking up as much as she can. There are spots floating around her eyes, slightly blurring Scott's features. "Did I get it?" She sounds hoarse, like the lightning fried her vocal chords a little.
Scott gives her a huge smile. "Yeah, you got it."
Oh good, she blacks out.
000
So Stiles never wants to smell fried manticore ever again if he can help it. It reminds him of cooked meat, except somehow a million times worse.
On the far side of the clearing the manticore corpse lies smoking, a charred and cauterized hole, surprisingly small in diameter, leads to somewhere pretty close to it's heart if Stiles had to guess. The thing's still twitching rapidly, muscles still spasming from all the leftover electricity.
Stiles should probably find it a lot more interesting than it is, except that as the manticore was struck he'd seen someone heading away from the clearing at a rapid pace.
It couldn't have been Derek or one of Satomi's pack; Stiles'd like to think either would have waited until everything was over then made themselves known.
It could have been a plain old human, but once again Stiles thinks that sheer curiosity would have made them hang around.
Fear ices through him. Was someone controlling the manticore?
At a certain level that made sense, besides Mason and Liam there hadn't been any reports filed recently about a strange animal in the preserve. Nor had there been any reports of bodies, eaten or otherwise. But how could someone control something like that? And why?
There were probably more than a few supernaturally inclined people who might want the pack dead. But none with the sort of know-how that might allow control of a creature like that, if such a thing was even possible. Something to ask Deaton about later.
Speaking of Deaton. . .
Malia and Parrish are now standing next to the body, clearly trying to figure out what to do with it. He goes over and Malia gives him an assessing eyebrow. "Do you think we can eat it?"
The expression on Jordan's face is about how Stiles feels about that: amused but a little grossed out too. "How about we not," Stiles replies. "I'd rather not risk any sort of poisoning just because I wanted to feel superior."
"Deaton'll probably want it" Scott says as he approaches, Kira in his arms.
Malia's forehead furrows in concern. "Is she alright?"
Scott nods, "she said something might happen like this yesterday. Said all she'd need afterwards is somewhere warm and some food when she woke up." Which explained why Scott wasn't the panic-mode Alpha he was on Saturday.
Which means in the meantime they're all going to have to fit in his Jeep –well except Parrish who'd come in his own car, and he doesn't like the idea of schlepping around a manticore corpse.
Out of the corner of his eye he sees Parrish squat at the head end of the manticore. "Can you grab the other side Malia."
She goes to do so, but she's still frowning. "I can carry it on my own," she protests. She gets a look Stiles knows all too well 'I can out-stubborn you to the end of the earth if I have to'. It took Stiles forever to break it down and finally get her to try pizza –and then she hadn't even liked it! How could you not like pizza?
"I could probably carry it on my own too," Jordan says. . .wait, what? "But I'd rather not."
Malia narrows her eyes at him as if trying to determine if he's telling the truth or not. Then goes over to the middle and crouching down gets her arms around the manticore's belly and hoists it onto her shoulder. "You can carry it if I get tired," she tells Parrish magnanimously.
Parrish just huffs, but follows after her; starting them all off on the winding trail back to the Jeep. Once there they load the manticore into his Jeep, and he's certain he's never going to get the smell out. Then Parrish offers to drive Malia home, leaving him to only have to drop off Scott and Kira.
Which he does easily enough, telling Scott to call him if something happened. Then heads over to Deaton's, wondering how the hell two measly humans are going to get that hulking corpse into the clinic.
Once there he parks a little out of the way, he's surprised none of the deputies stopped him for the strange shape in the back of the Jeep, then bounds into the waiting room of the clinic. Deaton's not there, so Stiles rings the call bell a few times. "Dr. Deaton?"
After a few seconds he gets an answer. "Back here Stiles."
He jogs deeper into the clinic, finding Deaton and a customer in one of the examination rooms with a dog. So Stiles gets to indulge in playing a spy. "Uh, Scott said you were expecting me, I've got the package you wanted."
Deaton nods, "just drive around to the back, I'll help you unload when I've finished with whiskers here." Wow, someone named their dog whiskers? The mind boggled.
"Alright," Stiles returns to his Jeep and drives it around to the back, fingers tapping in time to the music as he waits for Deaton to come out. He does a lot sooner than Stiles expected, with what looks like a wheeling hospital bed.
It takes a lot of maneuvering and elbow grease, but they do eventually get the manticore inside. Stiles watches raptly as Deaton pulls on a fresh pair of gloves and gets out all sorts of medical instruments. "What're you going to do?"
"A biopsy." Deaton answers. "Then breaking it down to dispose of."
Stiles is so down for that. "Can I help?"
Deaton nods. "Wash your hands, then gloves."
As they get started Stiles wonders if he should mention the person he'd seen –he hadn't even told Scott yet– then decided why the hell not. At the very least it'd be a learning experience. "Do you think anyone could control a manticore?"
Barely looking phased by the question Deaton raises an eyebrow.
Taking that as a sign he should elaborate –Stiles is the boss of reading non-verbal cues like that– he tells Deaton what he saw.
When he finishes Deaton gives one of those sagacious smiles. "A good theory Stiles. Lucky for you there are quite a few concoctions that allow you to see what sort of spells might have been placed on a creature. Can you grab the verbena from the cabinet? It should be labeled."
As far as the start of his first official magic lesson it's not exactly huge, but Stiles learns a lot.
000
Peter sits on Lydia's couch absently listening to the end credits of the movie they just finished; none of them willing to get up to turn everything off –Peter has no idea where the remote is. Lydia sits on his lap, head propped against his shoulder, legs outstretched onto Jordan's lap. Jordan himself is relaxed, nearly slouching against the couch back, hands absently massaging Lydia's feet.
It's. . .nice, even he's relaxing –save for the part of him that's paranoid that something horrible will happen if he doesn't keep his guard up. It feels like Saturday had, except without the talking. This feels like a pack should, easy comfort and being more than happy to be with the people you care about. It actually scares him some that he'd unknowingly missed the feeling.
He's also glad they're getting some rare mid-week together time, thanks to Lydia's mom being out on a date.
"So I've been thinking," Lydia's breath raises goosebumps on his neck as she speaks. "Since I've started to get the hang of glamours," she shifts positions a bit, letting her actually look at Jordan. "Do you think you could help me start to figure out my cold powers?"
At odd times Peter will find himself struck by the fact that his two lovers are even less human than he arguably is. Overall he's accepted it, it doesn't really change either of them at all, except for not being able to use cast iron in cooking, massive sweet teeth, and other little things of that nature. And it's interesting to see Lydia change and adapt to all the new things she encounters through Jordan.
Speaking of, Jordan's shoulder brushes Peter's own as he shrugs. "Sure. At the very least it should be easier to learn that glamour. Though to be honest my own cold powers aren't all that strong."
Peter wonders why that is. Something about Jordan's own nature? Or simply because of Lydia's lineage? The fact she's a princess still surprises him.
Lydia shrugs too. "You don't have to be powerful to be good at something."
Jordan's lips twitch in a smile and he raises up Lydia's feet to kiss the ankle of each before getting up and setting them back in Jordan's seat. "Be right back then." At least he stops to turn off the TV and DVD player on his way out.
His own curiosity is definitely piqued, outside of helping with combat Peter doesn't have much experience with Lydia's lessons; it'll be interesting to see how it goes.
Jordan soon returns, a glass of water in his hands. "So overall the idea is simple enough," he holds out the glass for Lydia to take. She turns so that her back is pressing up against Peter's front then does so carefully, making sure not to spill on Peter.
"Though it'll probably sound silly to explain," Jordan sits on the coffee table like a heathen. "You just need to think, well, cold thoughts and try and push that cold into the glass to freeze the water."
Peter watches, fascinated, as Lydia nods, puts her other hand on the glass to steady it, then closes her eyes, taking deep breaths. At first nothing much seems to happen, but when Peter actually focuses on the glass he sees a thin rim of frost begin to form. It vanishes just as quickly though and Lydia frowns.
Reaching out Jordan gives her an encouraging nudge, "good first try. Now just keep trying, don't let yourself get too frustrated alright."
They keep trying for a whole half hour. After her latest failed attempt Lydia gives an aggravated sigh and opens her eyes. "I thought you said this would be easy," she snaps.
In an attempt to calm her Peter puts a hand on her bare knee, thumb brushing lightly against the curve of it. He feels her leg twitch when he starts, but she gets used to it.
Holding his hands out Jordan tries his own brand of comfort. "Don't be too hard on yourself Lydia, you've only just started. I'm not exactly expecting you to be an expert after the first lesson."
Lydia's shoulders slump, "it feels like I should though, but there's just something I'm clearly not getting." She doesn't sound as angry as before, but Peter can tell what anger she has left is directed at herself now.
Which won't do at all. Without meaning to he and Jordan move at the same time, him to pull Lydia firmly against him and Jordan to take the glass out of her hands, weaving his fingers in her own, thumbs brushing the lines of her veins. "We're here for you Lydia," Peter says, aiming as best he can for soothing.
"Lets take a little break and come back to it later alright? How about some food?" Jordan gives them both a small smile.
They're halfway through dinner, spaghetti with clam sauce, when a thought comes to Peter. But he has the sense of mind to finish chewing before speaking it, which gives him time to roll it around in his head and think it through first.
"What if you're just going about it the wrong way?"
Lydia blinks at him from over her glass of white wine –if she wanted to raid her mother's fridge for a beverage that wasn't going to do anything for her he wasn't going to stop her– for a few seconds before responding. "What do you mean?"
Peter twirls his fork around, clearly aware that they're both focused on him now –good thing he didn't have a self-conscious bone in his body. "Just that perhaps you should try creating cold a different way." Alright, he's leading them both on a bit, he knows, but he wants to see how they'll react when he finally suggests it.
Jordan arches an eyebrow, "and do you have a suggestion? Or are you just pulling our legs."
Not so subtly Peter knocks his knee against one of Jordan's –not as easy with more space between them than usual. "Of course I have a suggestion."
000
When Stiles and Deaton finish Stiles is abuzz with ideas and knowledge, and it's awesome. Well at least as long as he doesn't get into the implications of what he'd learned today.
Once in his Jeep he pulls up his phone and dials Scott.
"Stiles?"
"Hey, you got some time? I think we need to talk?" While Deaton was certain nothing had been overtly controlling the manticore, someone had been there watching them kill it. And just because it hadn't been controlled didn't mean someone hadn't lead it there and influenced what it'd done.
Over the line he hears the sounds of dishes and he glances at the dashboard clock, 6:45? Shit, he'd completely missed dinner. "Yeah sure," Scott's voice pulls him from his brief self-flagellation.
"I'll be right over then," without waiting for a response from Scott he hangs up and tosses his phone onto the passenger seat. At the very least he can get something to eat from Melissa.
000
From his expression Lydia can tell Peter's milking this for all he's worth, and rolls her eyes. "Don't go saying it all at once now."
He grins. "It seems to me that Jordan was just trying to have you do the end result. Make cold and the water will turn to ice."
"That's generally how you do it Peter, you've got to make something cold before it will freeze." Lydia agrees with Jordan, as if right now Peter seems only to be stating the obvious.
Peter gives a little sigh, "True." He inclined his head slightly. "But here's a question for you Lydia: what exactly is 'cold'?"
What on earth is that sort of question, 'what is cold?' "It's a lack of heat."
"And heat?"
She doesn't understand why Peter just doesn't straight up tell her, this is the most annoying game of twenty questions. "It's an excess of thermal energy. . ." There's something in there that she thinks is what Peter's trying to get her to understand. "So what, you're suggesting I should trying pulling heat out instead of pushing cold in?" She never thought she'd be trying to apply science to magic. But thermodynamically at least it makes sense.
"Why not?" He shrugs and takes another bite of his spaghetti.
Turning her head she looks at Jordan who shrugs. "To be honest some science stuff still confuses me. But if you think it might work you might as well go ahead and try it."
A frown crosses her face as she thinks about that; so a different approach, but how the hell would one go about trying it out. She couldn't exactly pull energy out of an object; except that's exactly what making something cold was.
But how to implement? She couldn't exactly pull cold from thin air, at least not this time of year; but perhaps something to try in the winter. Though she could see it just being an attempt to do as Jordan'd told her earlier.
Closing her eyes she holds the glass of water in her hands once more; but this time instead of trying to push the cold into the glass and liquid she focuses it into her hands, making them as cold as she possibly can.
It's not exactly the most comfortable of feelings, even if she does have a higher resistance to cold than most. A crackling sound she finds she's all too familiar with reaches her ears and without thinking she opens her eyes.
Well at least her hands don't look like they've been frostbitten. But she's pleased to note that the contents of the glass while not completely frozen, resembles something akin to slush. Glancing up at Peter and Jordan it's hard to miss the proud looks each of them are wearing.
"Good job Lydia," Jordan smiles.
Soon to be mimicked by one from Peter. "Indeed, you maybe even deserve a reward."
Peter can be so transparent sometimes. "If by reward you mean cuddling then sure." While she doesn't expect her mom home until late she'd rather not risk getting caught, just to be on the safe side.
Which earns her a pout from Peter, but he doesn't push further.
Their general light mood continues as they clean up the kitchen then head up to her room.
Her tiny full bed barely fits the three of them, but she likes it like that, makes it cozy. Peter grumbles a little about it though. She huffs, "then I guess you'll be glad to know I managed to find a Texas king mattress for us."
It's the first time she's talked with them about the lake house, and she even manages to catch herself by surprise by it. She never planned to not tell them, but neither had really expressed much interest in the particulars of the house; seemingly content to let her have fun with the particulars that will make the house their home.
Except there's a warm and strange light in Jordan's eyes, that elicits an answering echo in herself, as he smiles softly. "Tell us about it."
And she does, not going into excruciating detail, but going on about the floorplan –both of them tease her a little about the plan to have the third floor/ attic be the master bedroom– and the furniture and paints she's looking at.
Eventually she runs out of things to talk about and they fall into a comfortable silence; for long enough that Lydia starts to drowse a little, the thought of possibly getting a good night's sleep an enticing one.
Through hooded eyes she watches as Peter absently walks a hand up Jordan's arm. "What about you? What are your powers?" The questions take her aback, mostly because she'd never thought to ask them herself; Jordan's personal powers seeming insignificant to learning how to use and control her own.
The start of a blush works it's way to Jordan's ears and he mumbles something unintelligible. Even to Peter if the way he pointedly cups his ear is any indication. "What's that dear?"
Because he's kind of being a dick about it Lydia has no problem in jabbing Peter's shoulder as hard as she can, grimacing at the pain that follows. "You don't have to answer Jordan if you don't want to."
Jordan's blush deepened, if anything, and his hand snaked around to rest on her ribs. "I, well, I. . .encourage life, I guess is the best way to put it."
She watches as one of Peter's hands grasps Jordan's free one. "And what exactly does that entail?" Peter rests his chin on Jordan's shoulder.
"I can make things grow faster than the usually would, especially trees. Before I left to look for Lydia, couples would, uh, sometimes come to me with help,"–his blush grows even more–"with conception."
Lydia feels a blush begin to creep across her own cheeks. "Is that why you insisted on condoms on my birthday?"
He nods. "If we hadn't you would've ended up pregnant, whether you wanted to be or not." He squeezes Peter's hand. "And we didn't exactly want to stop and talk about something like that."
Leaning in she gives his cheek a peck. "Well thank you for that." She does want children, but eventually. And preferably while she's not still in high school –though that one's a technicality since she's graduating in June.
He returns the gesture with a brief kiss of his own. Peter lazily watching them through hooded eyes. "So you're like a fertility deity?"
Jordan laughs. "Oh stars no. No, if I was I don't think any of the court would let me out of their sight. We don't have as many children as most of us would like. I'm more. . ." He wrinkles his nose, trying to find the right words. "Her Majesty told me that I was there to remind everyone that things still live, even in the middle of winter."
She twitches slightly when she feels Jordan's thumb begin to stroke along one of her ribs. "While my sister did the opposite for Summer."
Surprise floods her but she notices that the same couldn't be said for Peter, "you have a sister?" This is the first time she's heard Jordan mention her, or anything related to family, or even himself. She glances at Peter, "and you knew?" She's a little hurt by that.
"Yeah," Jordan's voice cracks a little.
Peter shrugs, "Jordan told me a few days ago, but not much beyond that he had one."
"She's, she's not exactly well though." Jordan continues, turning his head to hide his face behind Peter's. "I don't. . .want to talk about this anymore."
But Lydia has a million new questions she wants to ask; she bites her tongue however. If she could hold back her urge to ask Peter about Talia last week, then she can extend the same favor to Jordan when he's clearly in the same boat. So instead she just rolls over to curl around Jordan, wrapping him in a hug.
She doesn't think he cries, but she's not sure what else to call it.
000
Scott sees Stiles to the door, tells his parents he's going upstairs to study, but once in his room he flops onto his bed and stares up at the ceiling.
Someone had watched them kill the manticore and he hadn't noticed; then again he'd been pretty focused on Kira and making sure she wasn't hurt from what she'd done to kill the manticore –part of him flinches at that.
Hearing all of Stiles' ideas hadn't really helped that either. Someone or something might have been guiding the manticore; and if that were so then they had yet another problem to deal with. Why can't we ever catch a break? Just once, a year, hell even a month, with nothing supernatural happening would be fantastic.
If someone was behind the manticore was it someone new or someone they'd already gone up against?
Instantly his mind jumps to Peter; whom no one's seen hide nor hair of since Kate's death. Which worries Scott more than if he'd seen the older werewolf lurking about town. It would be just like him to indirectly control a man-eating monster.
Scott knew full well that Peter didn't think he was all that great an Alpha because he refused to kill people; but Peter was wrong about that, it was that very fact that made him a good Alpha.
But he still needs to pay for what he's done, some dark corner of his mind whispers. One way or another this is all his fault.
Yes, he realizes with a start, that's exactly it.
000
Considering how well they kicked manticore ass Kira thinks everyone deserves a party, and potentially something so far removed from their lives that they can hopefully enjoy it. And since season two just started airing last week, she thinks a Game of Thrones viewing might just hit the spot.
First things first, On Tuesday morning she hunts down everyone at school and tells them to be at her place Saturday morning, everyone except for Liam –who has a family thing– says yes. Though after telling Malia Kira wonders if they should be exposing her to that sort of stuff; then again she'd tried to invite a fifteen year old, so maybe she shouldn't be so uptight.
Now, of course, that everyone's coming she's got to figure out just how to feed them all. She solves some of the problem by sending out a mass text telling everyone to bring a dish, but werewolves eat a lot. There's always the old standby of pizza she knows, but that feels a bit. . .boring.
She could probably get her parents help with sushi, because that went so well the first time; to be fair Scott's gotten better, and Malia of all people asks her about it frequently. A few maki then, but nothing too adventurous; she makes a note to start rice when she gets home. Maybe she can convince her mom to make inari, Kira's mouth waters a little at the thought of it.
"Miss Yukimura!"
She starts, nearly falling out of her seat; a few classmates giggle and she flushes. "Sorry."
Mr. Jakobson sighs. "I take it then, that you cannot tell me why Robert Burns' works may have been considered controversial?"
Shrinking into her shoulders she shakes her head. Jakobson sighs again. "How about you Greenberg, can you list some of the reasons Burns' works were considered controversial?"
The conversation moving on around her Kira resists the urge to stick her tongue out at Jakobson –or do something even more rude. She'd like to see him try and deal with a man-eating chimera-monster-thing; in the face of that was 18th century writing all that important?
000
On the whole Jordan isn't all that interested in hanging out with teenagers, even ones who've gone through all the shit these ones had, for a few hours; but Lydia had asked him to come along, promising that it would at least be entertaining to see Scott freak out –which makes Jordan wonder if Kira'd really thought that one through.
So Jordan had baked about a million cookies –Peter had laughed throughout the asshole– and headed over to Kira's Saturday morning. Lydia's already there when he arrives and gives him a wide smile when he steps into the living room; it fills him with warmth and he returns the smile as he adds his cookies to the table near the door before making his way over to the loveseat.
He feels uncomfortable when she pulls him down for a kiss, but she keeps it polite, the sort of greeting kiss you generally gave to your significant other. Which doesn't stop Stiles on the couch from making gagging noises. Lydia flips him off.
"Get a room?" Malia says from her spot next to Lydia. "Did I use that right?" She sounds so earnest that Jordan bites his tongue hard to keep from laughing at her.
"Uh, not really." Danny pipes up from from Lydia's other side. Jordan's surprised he's there, from what Lydia's said he isn't that close to everyone else. He arches an eyebrow at Lydia. She returns it with one of her own.
"Well have a seat Parrish," Kira makes a gesture at the room as she stands up from her own seat. "And then we can begin!"
Her words prompt a general flurry of activity as people get food and drinks; and in the end Jordan ends up in Lydia's spot, with her on his lap, flanked by Danny and Malia. But Jordan finds himself frowning a little. "Shouldn't we wait for Derek, I thought he was part of your pack?"
From the confused looks he gets from that though Jordan's hastily revising that though.
Kira frowns at him. "Why would I have invited Derek." Next to her Scott's face scrunches up like he's trying to remember something.
"Please," Stiles gives a derisive snort. "Sourwolf wishes he was part of the pack."
Stiles' vehemence seems to take everyone aback, leaving them with awkward silence.
Scott's the one who eventually breaks it, "getting started Kira?"
"Oh," she jumps up, nearly upending her plate –Scott's reflexes catch it, and snags a remote from the coffee table. Less then a minute later sweeping orchestral music is filling the room.
Out of the corner of his eye Jordan sees Danny pulling out his phone. Only for it to be snatched up by Lydia. "No phone," she whispers.
Danny sticks his tongue out at her as he attempts to take his phone back. "Rude," he hisses.
She rolls her eyes and shuts down Danny's phone. "You need to not think about it for a while." Jordan has no idea what she's talking about, but it seems to him whatever 'it' is is the reason Danny got invited to this.
The room fills with various 'shhhs', and Jordan gives an amused huff. "Do I have to separate you two?" He asks quietly.
Lydia and Danny both give him disbelieving looks, but quiet down.
By the end of the first episode Scott looks like he's torn between blushing and sputtering, next to him Kira and Stiles are having a grand old time pulling an MST3K and adding to the popcorn pile at the bottom of the TV.
Halfway through the second Jordan's started to lose interest in watching mediocre politicking and buries his face in Lydia's hair, getting a noseful of her fruity conditioner and a faint something that might be the oleander scent Peter loves so much. "You know, this might be more interesting to watch at home." He hates that they have to watch their words around the pack when it comes to talking about Peter.
Lydia's shoulders begin shaking with silent laughter. "No," she whispers. "No, no, and no. We wouldn't be able to stop plotting."
Oh stars, now he's laughing too. Because she's right. Peter's too much of a schemer to not have a running commentary on how he'd be doing this so much better than the characters involved.
Then again Jordan's sure he could do better than some of these people.
And the three of them together? Lydia would probably already be sitting on that iron throne.
Out of the corner of his eye he sees Scott giving them strange looks, not that that's anything new. Ignoring them Jordan turns his full attention back to Lydia, lips tracing the shell of her ear through her hair. "As you say, my lady."
Normally he wouldn't use something so formal outside of the courts, but it feels right. And if the shiver that passes through Lydia is any indication she very much liked it.
Their moment though gets interrupted by Scott. "What do you mean plotting?"
Lydia exhales in a pointedly controlled manner. "Don't eavesdrop Scott, it's rude," she snaps. "And I'm queen of the school, I plot all the time." The fact that she's unashamed by it fill Jordan with an odd sense of pride.
"High school isn't exactly Westoros Lydia," Stiles replies.
"I wouldn't've guessed," Lydia replies dryly.
There's a worried frown on Malia's face, and Jordan wants to tell her everything's alright, except he's not sure if it is or not. So instead he nudges her knee with his own and when she turns to look at him and Lydia he gives her a little smile.
Lydia notices of course and gives him a smile of her own, as well as one of the cookies he'd baked; raising it up to his mouth to feed him. He goes with it wholeheartedly licking her fingers when he's finished to catch any stray crumbs.
"Please don't do that again," Malia sounds not strained, but he can't quite think of what else to call it.
He flushes when he realizes what it is she's smelling and Danny sniggers.
On the other side of the room Stiles rolls his eyes. "You two are almost worse than Scott and Kira." For his trouble Kira reaches over and Jordan sees a little bit of static electricity jump from her to him. "Hey, ow!"
"Don't be jealous Stiles," she says sweetly.
Scott sighs, probably disappointed in both of them. "Can we just watch the show."
Stiles shifts a little close to Scott. "And here I thought this was scarring you for life."
000
Lydia's actually amazed that they've managed to watch another episode without another outburst like in the last one. Though even she can feel the undercurrent of tension.
The sound of the doorbell cuts through all the conversations and minor tension; and almost as one –vaguely creepy if you ask Lydia– everyone's focus turns to the general area of the front door. Though she's not exactly sure why she's bothering, for all she knows it could just be a delivery man.
Of course being without super senses herself she doesn't hear much in the way of anything over the TV, but on Jordan's other side Malia's brow is furrowed in concentration. Malia begins frowning, then Mr. Yukimura steps into the doorway.
"Danny?" He doesn't sound nervous exactly, but he must find some part of this whole thing awkward. "There's a young man asking to see you."
On Jordan's other side Danny starts, out of everything Mr. Yukimura could've said that isn't what any of them had probably expected.
Before Danny can answer in any way though there are rapid footsteps down the hall and Mr. Yukimura gets shouldered out of the way.
Inside the room, Ethan stops. His expression tense and wary. Lydia guesses he wasn't expecting so many people to be staring at him. Without even being ask Lydia takes her feet out of Danny's lap, Watching him, worried, as he gets up and faces Ethan.
"You came back," Danny's tone isn't quite flat, but it's close enough to make her wince. She knows Danny hasn't quite moved on from Ethan breaking up and leaving in the first place; on the other hand Danny still, at the very least, cares deeply about his ex.
Her heart goes out to him, because this isn't the most ideal of situations. Nor would this be the sort of audience she'd want if she were in Danny's shoes –then again if she were in Danny's shoes she's moved on enough that Jackson's return wouldn't be so devastating.
Defensively Ethan crosses his arms, "yeah. I decided to stop running."
Lydia lays a reassuring hand on Jordan's shoulder –hoping he understands that she doesn't want him to do anything, her other hand dips into her purse, then she gets up before either Danny or Ethan can say anything else. She very much does want them to talk things out, but most definitely not here; what with Scott being tense, meaning Malia's tense, and Kira's confused, and who knows about Stiles –actual Stiles looks angry.
She goes up to Danny and brushes her fingers against his wrist, not so subtly giving Danny her keys. "Why don't you two take my car and find somewhere more private where you can talk." The look she levels at everyone else pretty much states that if any of them try to argue otherwise she's going to give them the dressing down of a lifetime.
This is a chance for Danny to get happiness or closure, and she's not going to let anyone stand in the way of it. She's damn well certain about that, just as certain is the fact that she'll stand by Danny whichever choice he makes.
Danny looks at the keys in surprise for a second before nodding. "Thanks," he manages a weak smile.
"Just make sure you return the car yeah?" She's only about half serious, since Danny lives only a few houses from her it'd be hard for him to forget.
His lips twitch in a real smile at that. "I'll do my best. But not making any promises."
Even Ethan smiles a little. "I'll have him back by eight if you're worried."
She huffs and gives them both light shoves. "Go on you two, talk your shit out."
They leave the room and she turns her attention to everyone else. Scott's standing, looking like he's about to wolf out. Crossing her arms she stares him down. "And all of us are going to stay here." A flare of anger fills her at the thought of anyone doing differently and it helps her direct the vocal glamour where it'll do the most 'good'. "We're going to give them the privacy they deserve, and if anyone suggests otherwise they're not going to like what happens."
Kira, Scott, and Stiles gape at her, clearly taken aback by her implied threat, Malia's not even pay attention, eyes focused on the episode still playing in the background. Scott though sits back down and she copies him, leaning over to grab her's and Jordan's plate again.
From the way Jordan's looking at her she can guess he might have a few things to say about what she just did; but can't because of present company. So she offers him an Inari roll.
They can talk later.
000
Dates with Jordan were always an interesting experience. Today they'd driven up to the town of Trinidad and spend the day at the beach. Of course it's still April so their only other company as they'd walked barefoot in the sand were hardcore beachcombers.
Starting to feel hungry Peter starts guiding Jordan back towards the town. They chat about this and that as they ate –Peter making a note to come back to this place with Lydia; Jordan manages to catch the check before him and only rolls his eyes when Peter glowers at him.
Once out on the boardwalk again Jordan takes his hand and starts leading him towards. . .an ice cream shop. "You just ate," he groans.
Jordan laughs. "Oh come on, it's ice cream."
"It's also sixty two out." For Peter ice cream was strictly a treat to enjoy only when it got hot enough outside to make him uncomfortable.
Like the endlessly mature fae he is Jordan stuck his tongue out. "Well then see if I share any with you." He tugs insistently at Peter's hand, and giving in Peter lets himself get dragged into the shop.
Where Jordan proceeds to try every flavor.
"You're incorrigible," he growls softly against Jordan's neck, not caring that the man behind the counter looks a little uncomfortable with display.
He doesn't need to see Jordan's expression to know he's pouting. "How am I supposed to know which flavors I want if I don't try them all?"
Peter takes a step back. "Because it's ice cream."
Jordan sighs, like putting up with Peter is some great task he's been burdened with and orders a double scoop of chocolate chip cookie dough and lavender. Only Jordan.
But still, Peter manages to thrust his card at the server before Jordan can even finish pulling out his wallet; werewolf reflexes have to be good for something after all.
Greedily Jordan begins devouring his cone before they've even left the shop. "You know," Peter teases. "I'm surprised you eat as much as you do." For most of Peter's life he's been surrounded by people who eat a lot of food, yet sometimes it seems like Jordan's in another class entirely.
Haughtily Jordan sticks his nose up. "Oh please, I need more energy to keep going than you'd think. The more sugar the better." Peter can't quite tell of Jordan's joking or not.
"At this point I'm pretty sure if I bit you your blood would taste like sugar."
A surprisingly nervous laugh leaves Jordan, "pretty sure my blood has yet to turn into sap Peter." He reaches out and actually bops Peter on the nose, leaving behind a cold spot that Peter realizes to late is ice cream.
He crosses his eyes and narrows them. "You'd better get that."
Jordan gives a devilish grin and ducks down a tiny bit –so very easy to forget that Jordan's actually taller than him– to lick Peter's nose. Peter huffs, but leans in and gives Jordan the briefest of kisses.
"Move in with me." Jordan blurts out when Peter pulls away, looking about as surprised as Peter feels at that suggestion; Jordan shifts his weight, his scent growing embarrassed. "I mean, if you want to."
Did he? Peter'd gotten used to the loft, despite how impermanent it felt. Used to the lightly barbed conversations that seem to make up most of his and Derek's interactions. But did he really want to stay there until the lake house was finished?
Lydia'd thrown herself into that project with more gusto than even he thought she would, and from what plans she's shared with them, she's planning that they'll all live there. There's a pleasant bloom of warmth in Peter at that thought, the fact she's making a home for all of them filling him with satisfaction. Easily he pushes aside the dread of what might happen after she discovers what he'd done what feels like ages ago now.
It also hadn't escaped his notice that the nights he did spend at Jordan's were free of the nightmares he'd been having. . .no, that had recently returned. A sharp wind blows and he allows himself a shiver, mind skittering away from all to familiar thoughts of fire.
Focus, did he or didn't he want to live with Jordan for who knew how long? The answer came much easier than he'd expected. "I don't see why not. I already have things there anyways. Moving everything else wouldn't be too much of a bother." It would only be things like clothes and books anyways, the furniture he currently uses is technically Derek's.
Because he knows it will fluster Jordan, and Peter does so love a flustered Jordan, he steps up into his space. "I appreciate you offering." It's an interesting challenge for Peter to try and cut out things like 'thank you' when talking with Jordan and Lydia, though Lydia doesn't seem as bothered by it as Jordan is, but he embraces it.
Not giving Jordan a chance to answer he leans in and kisses the man, not caring that Jordan will complain of he drops his ice cream or that they're out in the open where anyone can see them. Let them stare.
00000
Next week: A giant leap forward, but about a million steps back.
Ten no Hinoken = sword of heavenly fire.
Most of the lightning you see in storms is considered negative lightning, and while it's dangerous it doesn't necessarily kill. Positive lightning on the other hand (those ones usually called 'bolts out of the blue') carries about six to ten times the amount of charge and voltage; thanks to the fact that they form at the tops of clouds instead of the bottoms, so they've got more time to gather power.
They way Kira's picturing the lightning is correct too, if you watch high speed of strikes (link in my profile) you can actually see the 'streamers' (the more 'solid/paler' looking lightning).
Autopsies are only preformed on humans, anything else is a biopsy.
Within the bounds of physics Peter's completely correct, you can't push cold 'in', since cold is the removal of energy, and pushing energy in gets to the opposite result.
A Texas king (sometimes also called a Super/Grand king) is 80x98 in (203x249cm) here in the US.
Inari sushi is sushi rice wrapped in Aburaage tofu (basically pre-fried tofu), it's delicious. Maki are the sushi rolls most of you are probably familiar with: seaweed wrapped around rice and some other foodstuffs.
Lavender ice cream is also delicious and I highly recommend you try some if you have the chance.