I know this is late. I am so sorry guys. I've been swamped. For those of you who don't know, I recently underwent surgery to have all of my wisdom teeth removed, so I haven't been feeling my very best. Rest assured I'm much better now, but it wasn't an experience I would care to repeat anytime soon (lucky you only have four). I am also swamped at Uni, as it's assessment season and I have some catching up to do. I hope this is long enough to make up for the fact that you've had to wait.

Thanks to everyone who had already entered the contest. I'd love to see some more, so keep the entries coming. I'm going to give in to my better senses and tell you I've only actually had three, so if one more person enters they'll automatically win a prize. There's still a few hours left and I'd love for someone to submit an entry to claim the last prize (or a few more to make it harder to decide who the winner is!)

This one goes out to RadientWings if for nothing else than the amount of OMG's you typed in your last review. In all seriousness, though, that is exactly the kind of reaction I wanted so I'm glad that you are enjoying the story. Much love.

Hopefully be back with more soon,

xxx

E.G.

XI

Yeah, I Saw Sparks

February was long gone, and the mid-March weather was warming up slightly. Lydia Martin was taking full advantage of this, and her bare legs and lack of jacket showed her enjoyment of the first weeks of Spring. The four friends had ventured up to Scott and Allison's meeting place overlooking Beacon Hills at eleven that morning to enjoy the sunshine, the quiet privacy of the woods and a picnic lunch. It was now nearing one thirty, and the group were still lounging around. Lydia was presently perched on a blanket on the ground with her legs tucked under her, nibbling on a chicken salad sandwich and chattering to her friends. Allison, Scott and Stiles were seated around her, all engaged in different activities while enjoying the sun. Scott was- surprisingly- re-reading one of the novels they were being assessed on for their final exams in a couple of months. Allison was resting on her stomach, sipping from the chilled juice pouch in front of her and sketching in a small journal. Stiles, as was his custom, was typing away furiously on his phone and trying not to twitch about while sitting in one place for so long.

"So the movie times for tonight are 5:45 or 7:30. Do you guys still want to go and see The Maze Runner?" Stiles looked up from his phone and met Lydia's eyes.

"Well I'm in," Scott said, looking up from the pages of Life of Pi. "That Kaya Scodelario chick is really, really- sorry Allison." Scott broke off at the glare Allison gave him.

"Well, since Scott is so keen, I might as well go. I've gotta admit, that Dylan kid is pretty cute these days. Ever since he grew his hair out," Allison snarked at Scott.

"Lydia?" Stiles asked her. Lydia considered for a moment. The last thing she wanted was to be coupled with Stiles on an awkward double date. But, she reasoned, the four of them had been together all day and it hadn't been different than usual. She finished weighing the pros and cons before answering.

"Well, if we're all going I might as well," Lydia shrugged. "But I think we should go to the 7:30 and have an early dinner first."

"Sounds good to me," Scott said, putting his bookmark in place and stretching, his back popping as the gas was released from between the vertebrae.

"Food always sounds good to you," Allison teased, poking her boyfriend's six pack abs. Scott's arms came thudding down, and he exhaled his air with an oof of surprise, then nudged Allison's shoulder, making her tip sideways.

"Hey!"

"You started it, Allison."

"Now I'm finishing it," Lydia said, giving her friends a look that silenced them, though it was without the malice she used to use. "I'm feeling a bit hot, and I think I'm going to need a nap before tonight. Let's all take a couple of hours and chill out a bit." In all honesty, Lydia needed some time away from her friends to much as she loved them all, it was times like these when Scott and Allison were easily flirting that she wished she hadn't pushed Stiles away that night. In the fortnight or so that had elapsed since Valentine's day, she and Stiles had tentatively relaxed into their old routine, barring the flirting that had been prevalent before the incident in January. She knew, though, that she had still not turned the corner on her emotions, and that she would need a little more time before committing to anyone- sexually and emotionally- again.

Allison broke the small silence with, "I could go for a nap, too. And a shower. Lydia, do you need a lift?" Lydia was grateful.

"I'd like that," she said truthfully, and started to pack away the remnants of the picnic Stiles had packed for them. Scott bent the page in his book and started to pick up the cushions resting on their blankets, shoving them into the large cloth bag that Allison had brought them in while she and Lydia stood, slipped on their shoes and folded the soft blankets they had been sitting on. Within five minutes all traces of their presence had been removed, and all their belongings were packed into their respective owners cars. Scott and Allison shared a kiss, and then the group separated, agreeing to meet at Ferretti's at 10 to six.

Lydia opened her eyes and blinked against the muted light spilling through the gaps in her curtains. She reached out to her left to silence her alarm, and then continued to stare upwards at her ceiling. She was still exhausted, and it was the kind that took a hell of a lot more than a nap to sleep away. After their picnic that morning, and watching how happy Scott and Allison were, Lydia was feeling lonely- the kind of lonely that couldn't be fixed in a hot shower spray. She needed to be held close; to spoon with someone and fall asleep in their arms. After going through hell in Sophomore year- breaking up with Jackson; not being included and trusted by her friends; being possessed and tricked by the evil that is Peter Hale- it had been a long time since she felt safe. In fact, the only time she ever really felt safe was when she was with Stiles, Allison or Scott. Lydia sat up in bed and exhaled loudly in concentration, blocking the thoughts of Stiles from her mind. There was no point in agonising over their relationship, and she had to start getting ready for tonight. Lydia moved to her bathroom and pressed play on her sounds system to play some modern Jazz (her secret love for when she felt like she needed some time to herself), turned on the shower, getting in and ducked her head under the spray before massaging in some organic shampoo that smelled of flowers. There was one thought that slipped through the cracks of her usually flawless mental barriers. God, I wish I was ready for him.

The waitress placed down Lydia's meal in front of her, refilled their glasses and walked away from the table. Lydia inhaled some of the steam wafting up from her plate and quietly sighed at the smell of the sage and butter sauce on her pumpkin gnocchi. Around the table her friends were also receiving their dishes: Allison had a gorgeous looking vegetable lasagne, Scott was eyeing his fettuccine carbonara with hunger and Stiles was thanking his waitress as she placed a decadent looking pizza in front of him. Ferretti's wasn't a particularly fancy place (as was illustrated by the families dining around the room) but the food was excellent and the service was quick.

Lydia and Allison had arrived early, and had taken a table inside. The boys had shown up at precisely ten to six- no doubt Stiles' doing- and they had proceeded to order not five minutes after then. It was six twenty, and already their food was on the table. The film started at seven, so they had half an hour to eat, and then ten minutes to walk the short distance to the theatre and grab their tickets. Previews would give them a little extra time for a bathroom break or visiting a concession stand, and they would definitely make the showing in time. Lydia placed her napkin onto her lap, gently picked up the spoon and fork and took a dainty bite of her meal. The flavour struck her, as it had on the rare times she ate Ferretti's pasta.

"Oh my God. I could seriously die happy right now," Stiles practically moaned, swallowing his first mouthful and licking his lips.

"I would bathe in this carbonara sauce. Actually, scratch that. I wouldn't, because then I would be worried that I would consume myself," Scott said, tucking into his mean like a starving man. Allison gave the group a smile and swallowed her mouthful and took a sip of water before contributing.

"This is the best lasagne I've had since we moved here. There was this incredible place on the water in San Francisco, but this is so much better. How's yours, Lydia?"

"Completely worth the extra hour of cardio I'm going to have to do tomorrow," Lydia replied, giving her friends a smile and taking another bite.

"Why do we not spend more time here?" Scott wondered.

"Because we'd all get fat. And that would be a tragedy," Lydia responded.

"I'm not sure that quite qualifies as a tragedy, Lydia," Allison chuckled.

"I beg to differ, Allison. If I got fat, my feet would probably spread, and I wouldn't be able to wear any of my new shoes. I'm pretty sure that's tragic, considering how much I spent on them," Lydia informed her.

"I can vouch for that. She made me come. If I ever see another shoe store, it will be too soon," Stiles added through a mouth full of pizza. Lydia rolled her eyes.

"You didn't seem to mind so much when that sales girl was flirting with you," she put in between mouthfuls. Scott and Allison laughed as Stiles' face went red.

"Who was this girl and why haven't I heard about her before?" Scott asked as he elbowed his friend in the ribs. Stiles sighed, put down his slice of pizza and told the story to a chorus of laughter from the whole group. By the time the group finished their meals their stomachs were sore from too much good food, and too much laughing.

The feeling of awkward was palpable in the air as Lydia tried desperately to tune out the awful sucking noises coming from her left. Before the lights had gone down, the four friends had filed into the back row of the theatre with a tub of popcorn and several drinks at Stiles' insistence ("you cannot go to the movies without snacks- it's a crime against humanity!") and had been happily chatting, but as soon as the trailers were over, Scott and Allison were attached at the lips and the plot of the film no longer mattered to them. She had tried to get into the movie, but even Stiles' fascination in the plot hadn't made Allison and Scott's actions fall on deaf ears. Now Lydia was twisting the hem of her skirt in frustration and- though she hated to admit it- envy. She didn't, however realise that her right elbow was bumping into Stiles' ribs until his breath was warm on her neck as he leaned towards her.

"What?" he asked her, obviously a little annoyed at being dragged away from the movie.

"I didn't say anything," Lydia told him, confused.

"No, but you were jabbing my side with your elbow, and I don't really want to have bruised ribs tomorrow morning," Stiles replied.

"Sorry, I didn't realise I was hurting you," Lydia said, letting go of her skirt. Stiles tore his eyes from the screen for the first time, and took in the crease between her eyebrows.

"You miss it, don't you?" he questioned, nodding his head toward where Scott and Allison were attempting to permanently attach themselves to one another.

"It's not the tongue-down-each-other's-throats kissing thing. Just having someone who is there when you need to be held. Everyone needs to feel someone, sometimes," Lydia confessed. The fire that they burned around each other flared into life in the look they shared, and Lydia felt her nipples pebble in a way that had nothing to do with the temperature of the cinema, which was quite warm. She broke the gaze, though, and blinked a few times to dispel the feeling of tears that was coming on. But then Stiles' arm was warm around her shoulders. Lydia tucked herself into his side, her head resting on his chest as they watched the film. Stiles' compulsive twitching ceased as soon as she relaxed into him, and his breathing which routinely kept a stuttering tempo evened out to lengthly, rhythmic inhales and exhales. They both settled in to the comfortable warmth of each other, and Lydia was able to tune in for whatever was left of the film. It was interesting, and Allison had been right- that Dylan kid was definitely sexy with long hair, although she hadn't minded it short either.

The movie was over. Lydia was carrying the empty popcorn bin with their drink cartons in it to dispose of as they left the theatre. She and Stiles had had to separate Scott and Allison in order to exit the row of seats, and they were now descending the staircase to leave the cinema.

"So, is anyone else feeling like a frozen yoghurt? It's finally warm enough again," Lydia asked her friends as she dropped the waste into the trash can. Scott and Allison shared a look for a moment, before smiling conspiratorially at each other.

"I think I'm going to call it a night. What about you, Scott?" Allison asked.

"Yeah, I'm pretty beat. Can you give me a ride home?" Scott said, trying and failing to keep a straight face.

"Of course. Lydia, you're right to go home with Stiles aren't you?" It wasn't really a question, though. Allison and Scott were going to leave regardless. Lydia looked at Stiles questioningly.

"It's fine with me," Stiles told her.

"Sure, then. Go. Get some rest," Lydia replied to Allison's question.

"Great. Goodnight, you two. I'll talk to you later, Lyds," Allison said, giving Lydia a one-armed hug and flashing Stiles a smile, before she and Scott high-tailed it out of the reception area.

"She really will be giving him a ride home tonight," Lydia said, keeping her face void of emotions. Stiles snorted, and shook his head at her.

"I'd wager that they're not even going home. It's not the first time they've ever had to use a car," Stiles told her, smirking.

"I know that. Allison is generous with the details," Lydia said, winking at Stiles before the two of them broke into laughter. "So, are you up for FroYo. I'm dying for one."

"Is the Pope sexually frustrated?"

"Urgh, Stiles. That is so gross. Not to mention politically incorrect."

"Well, you know it's probably true. Besides, I panicked. I think I might be running out of material," Stiles joked.

"I doubt it. I'm sure you're just scraping the bottom of this particular barrel. But, since your observation is most likely true, I'm assuming you want the yoghurt," Lydia said, exiting through the sliding doors and starting down the footpath with Stiles on her heels. They walked in companionable silence for a few minutes, revelling in the warmth of the air. Lydia was wearing a jacket, but it was considerably thinner than the one she had been wearing two weeks ago, and she had not needed stockings to come out tonight.

"So," Stiles starts. "Did you have fun today?"

"Until I heard the Scallison tongue vacuum tonight. I'm not sure the realise that they're probably going to have to separate for College. They're getting worse. I thought romance was supposed to be dead," Lydia confessed, being honest.

"It is, mostly. But sometimes it likes to rear its ugly head and remind all of us lonely souls that we are still single," Stiles commented.

"Do you know something I don't?" Allison hadn't accepted any of her offers to Lydia's knowledge, though there had been a few. Stiles glanced at her, and sucked in a breath.

"Scott's been offered a place for Veterinary Science in San Francisco," Stiles told her. "He told her last night, actually. I don't think anything official has been decided yet, but I know how much Allison wants to go to Berkley and it's not far from the city. Looks like romance smiles on some." Lydia snorted. It was so like Scott and Allison for everything to work out perfectly. She was pleased for them, though. Even after the show they had put on tonight, if their friends were happy and in love then she was glad that something was working out.

"Like it isn't going to happen," Lydia replied.

"Well, at least they'll be together. Congrats again on Stanford, by the way." Lydia had gotten the news shortly after she and Stiles had made up.

"You too. It's funny, actually, that we're going to the same place," Lydia mused.

"Yeah, but you're studying in the molecular biology and infectious diseases program. I'm going for European history and mythological studies. There's a difference there, Martin," Stiles teased.

"It's still Stanford, Stilinski," Lydia responded decisively, shoving his shoulder playfully. Stiles conceded with a small smile. They returned to companionable silence, then, and strolled along at a relaxed, breezy pace, occasionally looking in shop windows. They were walking past a formal shop when Lydia was reminded of the occasion that was drawing ever closer that she hadn't remembered to account for. Prom. Last year she had ditched her date halfway through the night, and had ended up with her face in her toilet bowl the next morning experiencing vodka in reverse. This year was the final chance she had to enjoy herself.

"Have you thought much about Prom, Stiles?" she asked her companion.

"Not really. I didn't go last year, so I wasn't really sure if I was going to go this year," he returned. "I'm not closed to the idea, though. Maybe we can get together a bunch of single people and all go together. Like a big group thing." Lydia knew her face was enough to tell him that she hated the idea. Lydia liked dates- the corsage, the limo, the tux that she got to peel back at the end of the night. Though, with Stiles, that last one wasn't on the table. But if neither of them had a date, she wasn't going to wait to make sure that she had someone to go with that was good company, even if there was no romance.

"Look, I know you don't owe me this after everything I put you through before Valentine's. And I'm still sorry for that. But it's our last Prom, and I'd actually like to enjoy myself for once. So, Stiles Stilinski? Will you go to Prom with me?" Lydia waited, her eyes on Stiles' face. She wasn't disappointed. He smiled, one of the real, face-changing smiles that he only reserved for special occasions. In typical Stiles fashion, he cracked a joke before giving a serious reply.

"Shouldn't you be down on one knee with a sparkly finger adornment? I never thought that you'd be the one asking me, Lyds. But, yes. I'd love to take you to the prom. Any special requests?" He knows me too well.

"A gardenia corsage. I'll let you know the ribbon colour later on. Actually, just go with silver. It's definitely the most likely, but if something changes I'll let you know. And don't forget to order yourself a boutonnière to match," Lydia instructed.

"Your wish is my command," Stiles joked, and then offered this right arm out to her. Lydia rolled her eyes and took it, wrapping her left arm through his and settling her right hand on top of her left where it rested on Stiles' bicep. They continued down the street like that, eventually finding their way into the FroYo. They both doled out large portions into their cups (Lydia was a cheesecake fan, whereas Stiles went for strawberry), smothered the yoghurt in toppings and paid, before continuing their walk through the centre of town.

It was nearly midnight when Stiles dropped Lydia off at her door, having walked her up to her driveway because of the late hour. The two were arguing over their study schedule for their upcoming exams, both making sure they eked out time for their own interests.

"All I'm saying is, the mall is less busy on Thursday afternoons than Tuesdays," Lydia argued her part for a Thursday break.

"Yes, but it's not like the Tuesday crowds are going to break any records for the busiest day of the week," Stiles disagreed.

"Okay, well how about this: Scott is busy on Tuesday afternoons," Lydia countered, smiling smugly. She knew she had won, because Stiles' chief argument for time off was to be able to see Scott. Stiles gave her an exasperated look, and rolled his eyes.

"Fine. Mondays and Thursdays off it is. I really should know by now that there's no point in arguing with you."

"You should. But I like that you at least try. It wouldn't be any fun if I didn't get to prove you wrong," Lydia teased. Stiles shook his head, and Lydia giggled and gave him a quick hug, which he returned.

"Goodnight, Stiles," she told him, unlocking the front door and stepping inside.

"G'night, Lydia. Sweet dreams," Stiles replied, taking a few steps backward. Lydia smiled and raised her hand in a wave and closed the door, leaning against it like she had after so many dates with other boys. It wasn't a date, she reminded herself. So why did it feel like one?

I just wanted to say that I completely respect any and all religions of my readers. It occurred to me after I wrote this that the joke that Stiles makes about the Pope may be offensive to some people. The joke was simply meant to be something to keep the story moving. I wasn't trying to offend anyone, and if I have I am extremely sorry. I only use the joke because I feel that it is the kind of stupid (and sometimes offensive) observation that Stiles often makes (see: 'Am I attractive to gay guys?'). If you feel that it doesn't add to the story, I'll replace it with something else. All you have to do is send me a PM or write the review box that you didn't like it and it's gone.

Also, after this only two more chapters until... ;)