Work Text:
(Ø)
Union Reunion
(Ø)
Lydia Martin took a sip of her coffee before setting the mug carefully aside. Then she covered her eyes with one hand and carefully yawned. She had known when she came to MIT that it would be exhausting, but she was beginning to think she might have underestimated the extent. There were days when she felt like the constant chaos of Beacon Hills was more restful than this.
Cambridge was also lonely. For better or worse, she had gotten used to constantly having pack around her. The shifters didn't have a good sense of boundaries. Their instincts often led them to invading personal space and personal spaces. The few humans in the pack tended to follow suit as well.
Not that Stiles had ever had a normal sense of boundaries. The various Hales had all commented that Stiles would make a good wolf, and Lydia was inclined to agree. There were times when he seemed more lupine than even the born-wolves.
She really wished that Stiles had come with her. Cambridge wasn't just home to MIT. Harvard was also there. A little discrete sleuthing had led to the discovery that Lesley University had shadow programs for magical and emissary training. She was going to take their divination course over the summer. Stiles would have also benefited with the formal training.
Instead, Stiles was trying to give Georgetown University a try. He still had hopes of joining the FBI academy. She didn't think law enforcement was going to be a good fit for him, but she also knew that he wouldn't hear any criticisms about it. That needed to be a conclusion he came to in on his own.
Lydia opened her eyes again, dropping her gaze to the coral laptop in front of her. The cursor blinked at her like an accusation. Her brain was fuzzier than the goofy slippers that Stiles had sent her for her last birthday. No amount of caffeine seemed to cut through the fog either. Perhaps she should call it a day.
"I know that look."
She looked up in surprise. Last she had known, Jackson Whittemore was still in London. Yet there he stood beside her usual table in her favorite cafe in Cambridge. Despite the similar names, her Cambridge was in Massachusetts, not England. There should have been an entire ocean between them.
Jackson looked wonderful. He had grown into himself. He looked good enough to eat, if she was honest. His jeans hugged his long legs well as did his fuchsia tee shirt. Jackson always had looked good in her favorite color. Admittedly, her favorite way for him to wear it was all knotted up in her ropes. Jackson gave her a knowing grin.
"And I know that look, too," Jackson continued. "I definitely like your scent when you're thinking along those lines."
"I'm not sure that I know what you're talking about," Lydia denied. Flustered, she began packing away her laptop into its matching coral case. She was definitely done studying for the evening.
"Oh, so you weren't just thinking about tying me to your bed and having your wicked way with me?"
Lydia paused before slowly looking up at her ex-boyfriend. He looked completely relaxed on the surface. But she could still read him. He was delightfully nervous. She gave a thoughtful hum.
"That would be a nice way to relax," she agreed, already plotting out what her wicked way would entail. "It has been so long since I've had a nice, long ride." She licked her lips in sudden hunger. That hadn't even been a lie to manipulate him. It really had been a long time. She hummed again as a voice that sounded a lot like Stiles whispered a question in her mind. "Do bitten wolves also have knots?"
Jackson's grin grew wider. Lydia wasn't going to call him on it.
After all, she would have him at her mercy all too soon.
And he had always looked so beautiful while begging.