· 1st Time Stiles Says 'Yes?'

Later that same night, the too-lateness of Lydia's phone call made Stiles jump. Not to mention her innate paranoiac sense of discretion.

"Yes," Stiles answered, numbly and unthinking.

Then there was a strangeness that Lydia called and didn't text, but she explained, "My fingers, they keep shaking. No, no, no, it's fine. Can you just come over?"

With that Stiles couldn't think straight. The warring look his dad threw him, like he was undecided whether to yell at Stiles to stay or to sternly warn him again and again not to go. Wordlessly Stiles pleaded 'just not right now' as he jetted by, grabbing his hoodie while he bolted out through the kitchen door.

Since their relationship hadn't exactly been under the radar Stiles feared she had been exposed and was now being raked over hot coals. Part of his mind worked up a literal image and thought she invited him up just to deflect the torture. But even if that were so, Lydia wouldn't have invited him there just to deflect. Of all her many flaws cowardice was not, no, not ever on that list. But what if her parents wanted to meet the awful downtowner who defiled their precious uptown daughter?

How quickly could they ship her away with a new name and identity? A new car? An all-expense paid trip around the world? A million dollars or she could bet on the showcase... No, he had begun to think about 'the Price Is Right,' but everything was extravagant with uptowners, wasn't it? Aren't they supposed to throw money at a problem and it'd go away?

A scary, nauseating thought hit Stiles. What if they were calling him uptown to their home to bribe him away? Isn't that what rich people do, too? His grip on the steering wheel turned his knuckles white. If that were the case, his bad-temper wasn't exactly a secret and Stiles couldn't imagine a way of answering them which wouldn't get him arrested. In turn, it would drag his dad all the way uptown and just prove every prejudice right about his troublemaking upbringing to begin with.

The car behind Stiles honked, it disturbed him out of his panicked reverie and he veered toward her house.

After memorizing the sight of Lydia's house from afar, due to all the times she met him secretly at the corner or he drove past it honking so they could meet down the road, it felt strange to pull into her driveway. To see those white colonial arches welcome him of all people. Stiles' headlights reflected off of Lydia's silhouette while he turned up the driveway and her hand rose to shield her face. He ran to her side, after a rush job of parking and checked to see her for any visible signs of harm.

"I'm okay." She looked at him questioningly and asked, "Are you okay?"

"Well, yes of course. Just swell, dragged out of bed in the middle of sleeping, drove all the way across town to chit-chat," he wiped at his face, and tried to rein in his annoyance but it began to boil.

"Please, you practically never sleep. And you're definitely never asleep at 9:30." Lydia smirked, and Stiles glared at her for knowing him that well. "What were you doing, watching ESPN with your dad? Sorry to cut in on the fun, I just called you because I wanted to hang out with you for a couple of minutes while my dad and my mom were fighting."

Leading the way up the slope of her porch she came over to a bench. He hesitantly followed and slipped into the space beside her while he glanced around occasionally looking for armed guards.

"I'm sorry, I thought your dad was out of town."

"He was," Lydia heaved a sigh and laid back against his chest, pulling his arm up and around her shoulders. "Then I called him. I told him about you."

Stiles choked in response and lurched a little forward almost like he would make for a run if Lydia didn't have his arm so soundly trapped.

"You see, not every uptown guy comes from money. He's a downtowner at his roots," Lydia grinned up at him and his brow rose with interest, fascinated to learn from Lydia's locked up family tree. "But he doesn't exactly advertise it because it goes against his polished professional image."

"Of course," Stiles scoffed and made an airy gesture, but Lydia elbowed him to keep his bias in check just for a minute longer.

"Well, after our talk today I gave in and decided to call 'daddy'" Lydia said the title with an exaggerated baby-tone that made Stiles laugh, and she went on to explain. "Then I told him I was dating someone mommy-dearest didn't approve of. That made him happy to hear, but when I told him you were from downtown things got complicated. Next thing I know he came barging through the front door, calling mom a controlling hypocrite. His paternal effort surpassed all expectations."

Squeezing his eyes closed, Stiles mentally calculated, "how often do you pit your parents against each other like this?"

"This is the first time since they started talking about the divorce," Lydia chirped satisfactorily. "That's why I know my plan will work. Because right now they're trying make me pick who to live with after the split. My answer is whoever lets me get what I want. And I want you."

"You're scary-brilliant," he leaned over and kissed her briefly, grinning and tried not to be too amazed to encourage such outright devious behavior. "That's why I love you."

When Lydia sat back, she looked blank-faced and like she had been punched in the gut. Only then did Stiles realize the words he had said out loud. Before he began to recant she put her hand over his mouth, narrowed her eyes and looked around, giving everything in that moment a hard thought.

"Okay," she agreed and brought down her hand, "and I love you, for loving me."

"Yes? You love me?"

Lydia nodded, once more just shy of laughing and tried to shrug off her confession like it wasn't a big thing. Pleased with how effortlessly he could now get her to smile, Stiles rolled his eyes, he hooked his arm around her and pressed her tight against him.

"And I get to love you. So, good deal."