I am so sorry about my unintentional hiatus. I know it's been a month, and I feel awful about leaving you guys. I have had (and still do have) a massive amount of work due for University, and that took priority. Thank you to those of you who stuck with me through that. Hopefully you are going to continue to be around. I have not written the next chapter at this point, but Chapter 14 is done, so whenever the next chapter is completed, I promise a double update. Possibly triple. We'll see how I go.

I'm sure you're all dying to know who won the chance to dictate my smut writing. Congratulations to Iwannabelikeme! Your entry was really excellent, and it gave me a whole lot of new ideas- possibly for a sequel! Please PM me ASAP, and we can discuss your one shot. I'd also like to thank the runners up- Invisibleme1324, Azeret and lucawindmover- for entering. I'll be dispatching your prizes shortly after this chapter goes up, so keep an eye on your inbox for a special preview of Chapter Fourteen!

This one is for Wolfie O'Brien- I love your name and your attitude! I'm glad you think that this is good without the smut, but know that it is on it's way ;)

Also, I'm glad that there hasn't been any bad reactions to the Pope joke, so I'm assuming you all find it charming, not offensive (Stiles has that effect on people).

xxx

E.G.

XII

This Is the End

Scratching the last few lines of the equation onto the page, Stiles' smile grew on his face. He had already double-checked his answers and they were all right, including the one he was finishing off now. The finals were over, and there was nothing he could do to stop the happiness bubbling up inside of him like a geyser, ready to blow at any second. Studying with Lydia had been an invaluable resource over the past year, and Stiles was confident that he would be walking into Stanford in September completely prepared and with an excellent study partner. The last fortnight had been total chaos, the scramble to be prepared for the mountainous pile of assessment overwhelming his whole life. The validation that finishing the thing and knowing that he had done well was an equitable exchange, though, Stiles decided. He put down his pen, double checked to see if there were any pages he had missed and then closed the examination paper. He walked out of the hall with the greatest sense of satisfaction that an exam had ever given him. Lydia- in typical fashion- was waiting for him outside the examination room, her legs crossed primly. She had completed her exam at least 20 minutes before he had, but Stiles had known that she would wait for him.

"So?" she asked him, standing and placing the strap of her purse over her shoulder.

"Got everything right. And finished 20 minutes before the end of the exam. That's got to be a record in the Stilinski household," Stiles answered her, giving a huge smile which Lydia returned.

"Excellent," she replied. "Now, I think that a celebration is in order. What are Scott and Allison doing tonight?"

"I hate to break this to you, but they don't finish their exams until tomorrow. Regular Chemistry was pushed back to accommodate AP Chem, so they're probably studying. Separately of course, because God knows that they can't concentrate on anything for very long when they're together," Stiles informed Lydia, accompanying his observation with a wry smile. As they passed through the front doors, Lydia gave an uncharacteristic grimace.

"Well, that sucks ass," Lydia complained. "We'll have to hold off on the party until tomorrow.

"Or we could have a mini celebration ourselves? Get some pizza, a little ice-cream. Have a night in before the night out, so to speak," Stiles suggested. He knew she would say yes. If there was anything that he had learned about Lydia in the time they had been close friends, it was that she had a major weakness for movie nights and greasy food, no matter how much she denied it.

"Will there be Twizzlers?" And red liquorice. Forgot about that one, Stiles thought.

"Of course, and popcorn too."

"You have a deal, Stilinski. Yours at seven?" Lydia confirmed. They had reached their respective vehicles, which were parked next to each other as had become their habit.

"Seven sounds good. If I order it this afternoon to be ready at 6:45, can you pick the pizza up on your way over?" Stiles asked.

"Definitely. I'll see you then," she said, before unlocking her car and throwing her bag into the passenger seat.

"Later," Stiles told her, and waved as she reversed and drove off, before heading out of the parking lot himself and starting toward the grocery store for the complete, Stiles-and-Lydia patented confection collection.

"Grape soda, Dr. Pepper, microwave popcorn with extra butter, Twizzlers, Hershey's Kisses and Ranch Pringles," Lydia laughed when she arrived, pizza box in hand. "Boy, you really went all out. Are you trying to compensate for something, Stiles?" Last year Stiles would have gone red. But he had lived through enough embarrassment on Lydia's behalf that he knew exactly how to respond. He hadn't taken the opportunity before, but he figured that now was the best time.

"Not at all. In fact, if you really wanted to know just how unnecessary all this food is, we could just go up to my bedroom I right now and I could show you." Lydia looked up from the candy at his statement, her green eyes wide and her pupils blown out. Admittedly it had been a pretty sexual statement, but he had never seen her have this reaction before. Stiles had always been attracted to Lydia, but this was the first, unconscious physical signal that she was actually attracted to him also. Stiles felt a spark of hope in his chest. If she found him attractive, there was potential. He stored the image away for later approval and discussion with Scott. Lydia blinked, and Stiles knew that his small victory over her was about to be demolished.

"No thanks. I think I'll stick with the sweets. Besides, at least a Twizzler never cums early," Lydia replied, recovering from her shock. Stiles just smiled and gestured to the stairs. Lydia gave him a mock glare, placed a couple of packets of the sweets onto the pizza box and walked upstairs ahead of him. Stiles popped the popcorn, filled a couple of tumblers with ice and soda and then followed her. When he entered his room, he found that Lydia had grabbed his laptop and was logged into his Netflix. They had known each other's passwords for months now; Stiles' was Vader (a reference to his obsession with Star Wars), Lydia's was Prada (a reference to both her love of designer couture, and her love of her dog). Stiles put down the drinks and snacks he was carrying, and then set up his pillows so that he and Lydia could sit against them while they ate and watched the movies. Lydia had left the pizza box on the end of his bed, so Stiles pulled it into his lap and started in on a slice.

"So, apart from the terrifyingly large amount of science fiction, there's The Avengers or Heathers," Lydia said, looking up from the computer. "I haven't seen either of them, so you pick."

"You've never seen The Avengers? Lydia, that is a crime against humanity. But I'm in the mood for some dark, gory comedy. Let's watch Heathers," Stiles decided. Lydia pressed play, and joined Stiles on the bed, propping the computer on her lap, and reaching over to grab a slice of pizza. Que Sera Sera started playing, and the two settled into the pillows at their backs. Stiles put his arm around Lydia's shoulders and she settled into the nook of his neck, creating the perfect viewing position for both of them.

Stiles was wrapped around something warm and soft. He was comfortable apart from the tickling sensation that was assaulting his nose and the surrounding area. On every breath in, he refrained from sneezing. When the sensation became too much, Stiles lifted a hand to push away the blanket that was disrupting his breathing- only it wasn't a blanket. Stiles' hand met soft, silky strands of what he thought was hair, and when he opened his eyes and blinked in the muted, red-gold morning light, he realised that the blanket he thought he was wrapped in wasn't in fact a blanket, but girl. A tiny, red-haired, green-eyed girl who he was currently wrapped around so tight that if she was awake there was no way that she hadn't felt his morning hard-on pressed into her back.

"So you're finally awake," Lydia said, breaking Stiles' silent panic and confirming his fears. Stiles ricochetted backwards off of the mattress, tripped over the pizza box on the floor and stood with his back to Lydia, adjusting his jeans and willing away the erection that was causing so much drama.

"I- uh," Stiles babbled, embarrassedly.

"Calm down, Stilinski. You forget that I've had one of those inside me. Besides, it's a normal physiological reaction which occurs during REM sleep. Stop freaking out." His hard-on now gone, Stiles turned around to find Lydia sitting up in bed, her hair slightly mussed, but otherwise looking entirely stunning. Stiles blushed when their eyes met, but Lydia simply smiled, yawned adorably and kicked off the blanket that had pooled around her hips. She stood, peeling a some foil off of her arm, then stretched and than cocked her head.

"So. Got any coffee?"

After both Lydia and Stiles had showered and dressed, the pair headed downstairs. Lydia had borrowed a white dress shirt from him, which she had modified slightly to make it look less like she was doing a walk of shame- the tails were tied tightly around her waist and the sleeves up had been cuffed several times so they sat just below her elbows. Neither was wearing shoes, but Lydia's were held in her hand as she had informed Stiles she was going to leave straight after breakfast. Their footsteps were muffled on the carpeted stairs, but as soon as they reached the wooden flooring on the bottom level, it was obvious that there were two sets of footsteps making their way into the kitchen. It was no surprise to Stiles that the Sheriff was already awake, but from the look on his face, he had not expected to see a girl in his house that early in the morning (especially one wearing his son's shirt.) Stiles' face was red, but Lydia remained unfazed.

"Morning, Sheriff. Is there any coffee?" she asked, moving over to the counter when he pointed, and fishing two mugs out of the cupboard she knew they were kept in. She poured Stiles a cup, and pushed it into his hands before taking a sip from her own, and starting to pull out breakfast things from the refrigerator.

"How are you this morning, Miss Martin?" Sheriff Stilinski asked her, composing himself. Stiles winced, knowing that this was definitely the calm before the storm.

"Not bad. Thanks for having me last night. I didn't mean to stay over, but Stiles and I fell asleep watching movies. Who knew that Insidious could be so soothing?" Lydia replied, shooting Stiles a smile as she started to crack eggs into a large metal bowl.

As soon as the door closed behind Lydia, Stiles took a deep breath and wandered back into the kitchen, knowing that his father would definitely have something to say about his and Lydia's impromptu sleepover. The Sheriff was sitting at the table with his third cup of coffee and reading the paper, evidently waiting for Stiles to return. When Stiles plonked himself down opposite his father, the discussion began.

"Stiles, you have some serious explaining to do. I know we've never discussed it, but I'm pretty sure that no sleepovers with members of the opposite sex is an unwritten rule in any household with teenagers," Sheriff Stilinski was pissed. There was no doubt about it.

"I know, Dad. But I promise we didn't plan it. It was just like Lydia said. She came over last night to watch a couple of movies and to possibly go into a sugar coma which we planned to come out of just in time for her to make it home. But it got really late, and we were watching Insidious and I guess we both just kind of drifted off," Stiles was talking fast. "Look, Lydia's Mom knew where she was. If she had been worried, she has our home number. I'm sorry, Dad, but I didn't mean to do it." The Sheriff had a pensive look on his face. Stiles was annoying, and troublesome, but he hadn't lied to his father about anything since he came clean about Scott and the mess last year.

"Alright. I trust you, Stiles. Just... make sure it doesn't happen again, okay? At least not without permission. I need to know if there's going to be a woman in the house, even if you two aren't sleeping together."

"Dad, come on. No sex talks, please. One was enough to scar me for the rest of my existence," Stiles cringed.

"Well, it's either the sex talk or you're grounded for a week. You need to be punished somehow. Regardless of how it happened, you still broke a pretty basic rule. So it's your pick," Sheriff Stilinski said, crossing his arms and waiting.

Stiles was in embarrassed agony for the rest of the day, but at least he could still go out with his friends. The party was fun and the tiny amount of alcohol he ingested may have helped soothed him slightly. But even bourbon whiskey wasn't burning the memory of that morning out of his mind. Stiles knew that waking up to Lydia was probably the best thing that could have happened to him, and he was determined to make sure that he got to as frequently as possible.

One last thing- I don't know how you guys feel about AO3, but I found an amazing collection of Stydia stories on there. It's called The Heisenburg Anthology (by Jenetica), and they're amazing. I would definitely recommend checking them out if you're a fan of my work (and some good- and I quote- porn with feelings).