Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/809751.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      Multi
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Lydia_Martin/Scott_McCall, and_hints_of_a_whole_bunch_of_other
      relationships, Derek_Hale/Lydia_Martin/Scott_McCall
  Character:
      Lydia_Martin, Scott_McCall, Stiles_Stilinski, Isaac_Lahey, Derek_Hale,
      Peter_Hale, Allison_Argent, Vernon_Boyd
  Additional Tags:
      Bodyswap, gender_role_differences, fluidity_of_sexual_attraction
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-05-19 Completed: 2013-08-04 Chapters: 3/3 Words: 10224
****** Violet Gives Willingly ******
by AvaRosier
Summary
     “You looked at my naked body last night, didn’t you?”
     Lydia’s brown eyes narrowed and her head tilted to the side in a way
     that was downright eerie for Scott to watch. “And may I remind you,
     Scott, that I am now a werewolf and will be able to detect the
     tiniest blip of a lie in my heart, which is now beating like a
     jackrabbit.”
     Scott could feel his pale skin flushing and just knew the red was
     showing on his cheeks. “I- yes. Yes! But I was in the shower, I
     couldn’t not see everything!”
Notes
     This isn't a bodyswap fic just for humor and sexytimes, I try to
     delve into the experience of someone who is used to male privilege
     who suddenly has to experience body policing and the type of
     entitlement men feel towards a female body. There is a scene in the
     first half that does slightly cross the line in terms of
     unestablished boundaries (Lydia performed a sex act with Scott's body
     without his consent), but subsequent acts are negotiated and agreed
     upon. There will be a potentially triggering scene in part two where
     Scott fears for his safety in Lydia's body when catcalling crosses a
     line. Peter Hale will make a number of intimate comments that
     reference the way he psychologically violated Lydia. Nothing drastic
     happens, but Scott really will get a taste of what it means to be a
     woman.
***** Chapter 1 *****
“You looked at my naked body last night, didn’t you?”
Lydia’s brown eyes narrowed and her head tilted to the side in a way that was
downright eerie for Scott to watch. “And may I remind you, Scott, that I am now
a werewolf and will be able to detect the tiniest blip of a lie in my heart,
which is now beating like a jackrabbit.”
Scott could feel his pale skin flushing and just knew the red was showing on
his cheeks. “I- yes. Yes! But I was in the shower, I couldn’t not see
everything!” That was the truth anyhow. He’d put off the shower for two days
already and Lydia had growled at him yesterday that she could not have her body
becoming so rank, especially not while school was still in session.  She’d
punctuated that declaration by shoving a piece of paper at him with
surprisingly neat handwriting outlining her very detailed shower regimen, which
she had informed him that he’d better follow to the letter- if he so much as
used too much shampoo, she would be able to tell by looking at his now-ginger
hair.
Lydia rolled her eyes at him and stalked over to the walk-in closet,
disappearing inside for a minute to pick out something “so effortless for him
to wear there was no way he could fuck it up.”
“Stop being so defensive, Scott,” she called out from inside the closet. “And
besides, I’ve already had to give you a hand-job.”
Scott almost thinks he misheard her, since he no longer had the heightened
senses that came along with his body.
“What!” Even to his ears, that sounded too shrill. Lydia reappeared, carrying
an armload of dresses.  Wait, dresses? Distracted for a moment, Scott forgot
about her earlier revelation.
“Uh, Lydia, I don’t know if it’s escaped your notice but I don’t exactly wear
dresses often. Maybe this would be a good week for me to just keep wearing
jeans. Or that nice pair of shorts you made me wear yesterday- I didn’t mind
those…even if it was weird to have that much leg bare…”
“No.” Okay, it really was strange to see his own mouth enunciating that word
the way Lydia usually did- right down to the exaggerated shape of the ‘o’ and
the way she drew out the nasal sound.
“Lydia Martin wears skirts eighty percent o the time. You are now Lydia Martin,
if only in the most technical sense, therefore you will wear skirts.” She held
out a cute purple sundress and a cropped khaki jacket with ruched sleeves. 
Thank god she wasn’t going to force him to wear shoes with a heel, that would
be a disaster waiting to happen.
No way would he confess to her or anyone that he had actually tried on some of
her shoes- the three-inch heels- and attempted to walk around her bedroom in
them.  That was a secret he would take to his grave.
“And what do you mean you gave me a hand-job last night? I think it’s time we
set some boundaries about what is acceptable and not acceptable to do to each
other’s bodies.”
His own eyes widened innocently as Lydia opened her dresser drawer and pulled
out a pale lavender, lacy bra-and-panty set. “Well, what else was I supposed to
do? I was watching The Vampire Diaries and there are some very attractive cast
members on that show. I couldn’t even walk until I took care of it.”  Only
Lydia Martin could manage to make him feel guilty for having a male body that
had typical physiological reactions.
Sighing in resignation, he reached out for the dress only to have her toss the
outfit on the bed, out of his reach. “Nope, no putting on any clothes until we
take care of those legs.” Her eyes zeroed in on his lower calves.
“Lydia, Lydia no.”
“Lydia yes. You’ll love the way silky-smooth bare legs feel, Scott!” And with
that, she was literally manhandling him out of the bedroom and into the
bathroom down the hall. When she stood there with her arms crossed over her
broad chest, peering down at him expectantly, Scott felt all of the sudden shy.
“Can’t I just do it myself? I shave my face nearly every day, I think I can
manage this bit on my own.”
“We don’t have time for that,” Lydia informed him while she peered into the
mirror to check the hold on the pomade she’d put into his short hair that
morning to give it a more spiky look. He wasn’t sure what it was she had done,
but his hair had never looked so good. “After this, you need to get dressed, I
need to put your makeup on, and do your hair. It takes serious work to look as
good as I do on a daily basis, Scott. And besides, it really isn’t anything I
haven’t seen before.”
She giggled.
Note to self: Scott McCall does not look cute when he giggles.
Well, she did have a point. And it wasn’t too weird, being naked in front of
his own body. Scott shrugged and pushed Lydia’s pajama bottoms off his rounded
hips.  Lydia made him sit with his short legs over the sink while she wet them
with a cloth and lathered them up with some shaving gel.
Did he say it wouldn’t be too weird being naked in front of himself?  Scott
took it back.  It was actually weird because even if it was his own hands
touching Lydia’s legs, he was still feeling it, and it felt nice. With every
scrape of the razor up his leg, and Lydia wholly focused on methodically
ridding her legs of any hint of stubble, Scott couldn’t help getting turned on
by the intimacy of it all. Lydia froze as she was in the process of starting in
on the second leg and turned to look at him, sniffing the air around him with a
weird expression on her face.
“Why do I smell different? It’s…heavier somehow.”  Scott didn’t bother
responding to her question. Lydia was nothing if not extremely bright. She’d
figure it out soon enough.  Bingo. Her dark brown eyes widened, which was
comical for all the obvious reasons.
“Scott McCall, are you turned on by this?”
He remained sullenly silent.  Lydia just smiled and went back to work. “It’s
alright, you know. I think you and I should accept that for the duration of
this curse, we’re going to be feeling horny from time to time. Consider this me
giving you permission to use the wandless Hitachi magic wand- it’s the one in
the bottom drawer of my dresser.”
“I- Are you sure?” Scott thought about ignoring her blanket permission to
masturbate with her own body.
“Yes. Believe it or not, I actually trust you not to do anything awful to my
body. And it’s hardly rocket science, but you might learn a thing or two for
future use.”
“Okay. And you have my permission as well,” he extended magnamiously.
“There, that’s settled,” she smiled brightly. “You’ll also be glad to know I
cancelled the wax appointment I was going to have tomorrow evening.”
Scott whistled at that as he hopped down from the counter. Lydia busied herself
with pulling out several tubes of make-up. “A lighter look today, I think. Some
mascara, minimal blush, and gloss.” She muttered to herself.
“Yeah, I think I prefer having you shave my legs than going in to have them
waxed.”
Lydia straightened up to her full height, which meant she towered over him. The
grin she sent him was downright sly. It was such a Lydia-esque expression, and
Scott kind of liked seeing it on his face. If he could manage to imitate it
when he was back in possession of his body, that would be very useful…
“Oh, it wasn’t to wax my legs, Scott,” she said in a sing-song voice, staring
down at his black panty-clad crotch.
Scott wasn’t proud to say he whimpered when she winked.
===============================================================================
 
 
Ever since Scott and Lydia had run afoul of the witch on Friday night and
regained consciousness in the other’s body, the rest of his and Derek’s co-pack
(shut up, it totally works that way) hadn’t known how to act around them.
Scott had gone to Deaton on Sunday morning, and then to Derek’s loft, to see if
any of them had tracked down the witch or figured out a way to switch him and
Lydia back to their own bodies. So far, zilch. So the two of them had no choice
but to keep up the charade at school.
There were only three more days to go before the end of Junior year, which was
great for both Scott and Lydia because neither had to worry much about keeping
up with each other’s intellectual styles. Scott was very smart, he usually
pulled As and some Bs and took a couple of Honors or AP classes. Lydia,
however, was out-of-the-stratosphere smart; even if she used to keep it under
wraps. She’d stopped holding herself back at the start of the school year,
which Scott was happy to see, because it was like everyone could see who Lydia
Martin was. Knowing that she had at least a few friends who loved her for
everything she was- her intellect, her desire for control, her weird way of
caring for her friends, her frankness, and even her viciousness- went a long
way towards her being able to relax the walls between her and other people.
As it turned out, it wasn’t the whole ‘act like Lydia Martin’ thing that gave
Scott trouble in school that day.
When he was at Lydia’s locker before the start of first period (he hadn’t even
needed to check her phone for the combination today, yay him), one of the
assholes from the soccer team had been blatantly checking him out, eyes roving
over Lydia’s body in a way that made his skin crawl. No matter how badly he
wanted to physically shove the guy into the lockers, he had to remember that he
was in Lydia’s body and she wanted no undue attention. So he settled for
glaring at the other boy until he sneered and slammed his locker shut.
“Damn, Martin. Least you could do is be grateful. A crazy girl like you should
be flattered,” he muttered as he walked away.
Breathing hard, Scott willed himself not to follow and instead focused on
shoving the notebooks and textbook he would need for the morning classes into
Lydia’s beloved Fendi bag.
By third period, when he was in Lydia’s AP US Government class, he’d mostly
managed to shake it off and while Mr. Summers droned on and on about the
current state of the state government (which generally sucked, he didn’t need
the teacher to tell him that), Scott began to get lost in a fantasy.
He was very much aware of how nice the air felt on his smooth legs, bared to
mid-thigh with this dress. And he’d gotten used to hooking his ankle over the
other or crossing his legs in the same way Lydia did.  She’d put this gold
necklace with a delicate chain on his neck to ‘accessorize’ his outfit or
whatever, and Scott had just discovered that when he toyed with the pendant on
the bottom, it made the chain slide across the soft skin on his collarbone in a
way that was electrifying.
 Fantasizing in the middle of class was thrilling and downright liberating
because hey, he doesn’t have to worry about boners.  Being aware of what a
clitoris felt like and the way girls felt when aroused was something of a
revelation, and since Lydia had given him her permission, he figured it was
okay to think about the things he usually thought about. Also amazing: he could
get aroused, do nothing about it, and hold on to the feeling and come back to
it later. This alone was probably a good reason for girls to rule the world.
Men had no idea.
But his fantasies are different because he’s very much aware of how his female
body is feeling right now, and he finds himself wondering what it’d feel like
to have his smaller form pressed into a mattress by the heavier weight of
another guy. While Scott is imagining Danny Mahealani’s hands (it’s his
fantasy, he’ll choose whomever he wants, okay?) on his breasts, tugging the
nipples, he’s swinging his leg back and forth which is causing his inner thighs
to squeeze rhythmically. He’s so turned on right now and nobody knows it—
Just then, he noticed Issac turn around several chairs diagonal to him. The
curly-haired werewolf gives him a pained look. Oh, right. Scott winced and
mouths a silent ‘sorry’ to the other werewolf.  He repeats the apology in the
hallways after the bell rings, definitely noticing the way Isaac was holding
his notebooks in front of his lap.
“Isaac— I’m really, really sorry about that. It’s just kind of liberating not
having to worry about erections and you would not believe how good it feels—“
His rationalizing is interrupted by a restrained growl.
“Stop! Please stop talking,” Isaac begged, his eyes closing as he rested his
forehead against his locker.
“What?”
Isaac looked around furtively to make sure nobody was listening in. “It’s- it’s
kind of you, Scott. You’re still you but you’re also Lydia and she smells so
nice and I had Lydia-you in on the field earlier and I am so confused right
now!”
Oh. Oh.
 “I’m going to go to class now because I can’t deal with this, okay?” Isaac
didn’t wait around for an answer before he was loping off towards the stairway.
Scott didn’t blame him. When he had those heightened senses, he couldn’t go a
day in school without practically being sprayed by the scent of arousal from at
least a dozen students. Sometimes the teachers, which was really awkward.  He
had mostly learned to filter it out and ignore it because there are some things
you don’t want to know about Greenberg when they were in Finstock’s Honors Econ
II class.
Oh. He probably should’ve warned Lydia about that.
Speaking of, he hadn’t seen Lydia since she had left this morning. As him, she
didn’t have to show up to his first-period French III class because Finstock
had pulled all the lacrosse players out for a special drill session because
even though the season was over, they were playing an invitational against
Redwood Prep and Finstock was personally invested in making the other coach eat
Beacon Hills High dirt.
He had been counting on Stiles and Isaac and Boyd to keep an eye on Lydia-him
to make sure she didn’t lose control of her strength.  Isaac’s comment about
having to deal with her on the field wasn’t doing anything to alleviate his
worry.
“Lydia, darling!” Stiles sang out from halfway down the hallway. “May I say how
absolutely ravishing you look this morning?”
Scott rolled his eyes at his best friend’s saccharine tone. He knew it well,
and that shit-eating grin on his face. Scott craned his neck up to glare at
Stiles, feeling disoriented that he had to do so when he was used to looking
the other boy in the eye.
“You know, we wouldn’t even have to tell her, just one kiss—“
“No, Stiles.”
Stiles pretended to look disappointed for a moment, before brightening again.
“Speaking of how ravishing you usually look, you might want to have a teensy
word with the actual Lydia about only using your body for good.” He mimed how
small a word with only a few millimetres between his thumb and forefinger.
His heart started pounding in his chest. Lydia’s chest. Whatever.
“Oh god, no. What did she do?”
Stiles rubbed his chin thoughtfully, before looking back at Scott. “Well,” he
trailed off when he caught sight of something beyond Scott’s shoulder.
“Actually, you can see for yourself.”
Scott turned around just in time to witness a ripple going through the students
standing in the hallway. Most of them had stopped whatever they were doing,
whatever conversations they had been having, to stare at Scott McCall making
his way down the corridor.
When Lydia had come over this morning to help Scott get ready for school, she’d
been wearing track pants and a plain t-shirt to exercise in.  What she was
wearing now, was a pair of form-fitting jeans that Scott was absolutely certain
he did notown; ditto the black t-shirt that was practically clinging to his
muscles.
But that probably wasn’t the real reason why everyone was drawn to him like a
moth to a flame. You see, Scott, even after he became a werewolf, was mostly
inconspicuous as he walked around places. People knew him, but they didn’t
stare at him. He was just normal. Lydia Martin, on the other hand, treated high
school like the runway in Milan. The first day back at school after winter
break their sophomore year, when Stiles had turned around to admire Lydia’s
saunter up to the front doors, Scott had looked after her as well. She was
confident, and Scott had always been attracted to that quality in women.
Over the weekend, they’d worked together with the help of his mom to perfect
their strides so they passed for each other. Scott found he had to keep
thinking ‘I am Lydia Martin, I am a girl’ in order to keep it up. It got easier
every day. Lydia had managed to break herself of the short, hip-swinging
strides she was known for, which looked altogether odd on Scott’s form. She’d
managed to find an unobtrusive slow stroll that didn’t give anything away.
But Lydia right now?
There was a hint of swagger, and she was grinning and making eye contact with
everyone as she passed them. The look in Scott McCall’s eyes promised dark
things done to you in dark corners that you would like.
“Scott,” Stiles whispered in a strangled voice from next to him. “I just want
you to know how incredibly attracted I am to you right now and if you, if
Lydia, offered, I am totally letting her do whatever she wants to me.”
Scott McCall was now making a beeline towards where Allison was frozen at her
locker, eyes like a deer caught in the headlights. She knew it was Lydia behind
those brown eyes, but she was evidently not immune to the combined charm of
Scott’s face and Lydia’s manipulative charisma. When Lydia smiled at Allison
and brushed a dark strand of the girl’s hair over her shoulder, Scott could see
Allison’s eyes darken and her gaze fall to Lydia’s (his) mouth.
Scott recognized the look on his face. He’d seen it on Lydia’s that day in
Coach Finstock’s office when she had slid closer to him and batted her
eyelashes and then he was slanting his lips over hers like he could lick her
challenge from them.
Taking a deep breath, Scott tried to stay calm. As soon as this little display
was over, he was going to pull Lydia into an abandoned classroom and kill her.
Or kiss her.
He’d figure it out later.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
A year and half ago, Scott would have given nearly anything to not be a
werewolf anymore.
Accepting his wolf had been a process forged in pain and danger, and at some
point he’d had to shift his entire worldview until he could handle the fact
that he was stronger and faster than humans. It was a greater struggle to hold
on to the most fundamental aspects of his personality- the desire to help
people and keep them safe however he could. His mom had raised him to be a good
person, and he’d fought to cling to that even in the midst of fighting the
Alpha pack.
"He who makes a beast of himself, gets rid of the pain of being a man," Lydia
had quoted to him one night, many months ago, when they had been recovering
from a brutal confrontation with Deucalion and Kali. 
The point was, Scott was beginning to miss being a werewolf. Tonight was a full
moon and it was downright peculiar to feel absolutely nothing. There was no
change taking over his body, just… boredom.
He had wanted to be in the old train station with the others to keep an eye on
Lydia. But Derek had been resolute over the phone, telling him to stay away
because the threat to his- to Lydia’s- body would be too great. That did
mollify Scott a bit— the others had great control and he just had to trust that
they could keep Lydia corralled.
It had been a week now since the witch had cursed them, and Scott wasn’t sure
how he felt about being a woman. It wasn’t that he saw it as a step down or
anything, it was just that walking through the world female was a different
experience than he would have thought. There were a myriad of petty indignities
and the constancy of certain expectations that he had never had to consider
before. Since he hadn’t really had to deal with that kind of stuff before, it
all had a way of chipping at him day after day.
Stiles was home tonight, doing a bit of father-son bonding, otherwise he would
be eagerly spending time with his best friend while said best friend had the
body of his long-time crush. So, Scott found himself sat there in Lydia’s
bedroom, flipping through one of her copies of Vogue (because her stack of
Glasgow Mathematical Journals were a tad bit intimidating).  This gave Scott
time to reflect on how much the lack of power in Lydia’s human body bothered
him. He was used to not only being a man, but being a werewolf. He constantly
had to consider the relative fragility of his current body before he said or
did anything. And it wasn’t always the lack of supernatural strength.
It had been 3:30 that afternoon, and Junior year was officially over. Stiles
had given him and Lydia a ride to school that morning, and Scott had been too
tired to tell the other boy off for staring at his bare legs.
Scott hadn't had the energy to fight with Lydia that morning, and consequently,
he was wearing one of Lydia’s sundresses, but skipping a bra because it was hot
and too uncomfortable. He had just turned onto Denbright, barely halfway to
Lydia's home, when the ringleader of a group of guys barely older than Scott
himself began to catcall him.
"Well hello there, you're too sexy to be so lonely. You got a boyfriend? Ditch
him, cuz I'll make you feel like a woman, princess."
Scott had recognized the guy, Trey Lucas. He'd been a senior when Scott and
Lydia had begun their freshman year, but dropped out barely halfway through the
semester. Stiles would occasionally update Scott on Trey’s latest brush with
the law.
Scott had tried to ignore it, to give the five guys a wide berth when he shook
his head no and kept walking. He had been hyper aware at that point, of how
isolated and vulnerable he was right then. If they decided to get physical, he
wouldn't be able to-
"What? You a stuck-up bitch? I'm just tryna be nice, you're just like all those
wack-ass bitches, think they too good for me when their tiny-prick boyfriends
be cheating on them-"
“I said I’m not interested!”He had ground out, walking faster towards the end
of the street. He had wanted so badly to turn around and face them, to make
them regret speaking that way to him.
But instead of feeling the power of the werewolf coursing through his veins,
Scott had felt nothing but his heart pounding and stomach clenching in
anticipation of fight or flight. He realized, perhaps for the very first time
since the switch, that he was in Lydia’s body. Her human, utterly breakable
body . He couldn’t take this kind of risk with her body. He couldn’t let her be
hurt like this.
And then a car horn had honked from behind them and when Scott turned around,
he had never been so grateful to see Chris Argent stepping out of his SUV. He
was as stone-faced as usual, and when he smiled at the guys surrounding Scott
with false cheerfulness, he downright radiated danger. 
“Lydia. Sorry I’m late, traffic was murder.”
Anyone with self-preservation instincts was terrified of Chris Argent, which
Scott’s catcaller and his friends most definitely had been.  They had thrown up
their hands as if to say ‘no biggie,’ and were quickly on their way.
Scott had managed to bite out a reluctant"thank you, Mr. Argent,"as he climbed
into his ex-girlfriend's father's car. The only reason he had gotten inside the
same car with Chris Argent was the belief that Chris wouldn’t try to kill him
when he was in his daughter’s best friend’s human body.
The ride home was the most awkward fifteen minutes of his life.  To be frank,
Scott would prefer to never think of it. Ever again.
 
A thud sounded from outside Lydia's window and Scott was startled out of the
memory. Tossing the magazine to the side, he rushed to the window and opened it
so he could poke his head outside. 
Well, it seemed that Derek Hale and his pack forgot to account for one thing:
Scott’s body might have been the one infected with lycanthropy, but it was
still Lydia Martin’s brain in there.  They probably hadn't stood a chance.
Peter might have been able to cut off any move she made, but given their
history, Derek had ordered the older beta to stay away for this moon.
Scott barely had enough time to jump away from the window before his own body
was leaping through the open window.  He grunted when Lydia, in his beta form,
tackled him to the carpeted floor.  He didn't dare move when Lydia buried her
nose into his throat and breathed deeply, not with her fangs so close.  
"Lydia. Lydia look at me. It's Scott, we're in each other's bodies." She
growled and raised herself back on her haunches. At least she had clothes on.
Too many times he had gone through the shift and ended up at least half naked.
 Grasping at straws to get through to her while in the grips her lunacy, Scott
finally blurted out:
"The Fields Medal! Remember that? You're going to get your body back, you're
going to get out of this town and go to some Ivy League school and do something
amazing with math.  Just hold on to that and use that as your anchor. Lydia?"
She had buried her face in his pajama-clad stomach and, long moments later,
when she finally sat back, he saw his human form staring down at him, breathing
heavily.  "Thanks," Lydia whispered. "I just didn't like being in that place
anymore."  
Sluggishly, she got to her feet and kicked off Scott's shoes before crawling
under her covers. 
With a pang, Scott realized that Lydia had probably just wanted her creature
comforts around her. To sit in her castle, safe and secure, where she could
raise up the drawbridge and leave the moat outside to ward off voyeurs.  
Once comfortable under the violet blue covers (and don’t think Scott hadn’t
noticed that the general color scheme of her bedroom resembled aconite), Lydia
turned to Scott and trained her tired-looking brown eyes at him.  She patted
the other half of the bed next to her.
“Tell him I’m under control and come lie down with me. I promise I won’t bite,”
she murmured, arching her eyebrow playfully in his direction.  It took a moment
for Scott to realize what she meant, but he padded over to the open window and
stuck his head out.
“She’s alright, I’ve got it under control-“ He called out to Derek, wherever
the Alpha was hiding and listening in.
“You mean I’ve got myself under control, Scott,” she snipped from her hiding
spot under the covers.
Scott sighed and closed the window. He didn’t delude himself that Derek would
leave now.
When he crawled into the bed next to Lydia, he realized that this was the most
intimate they had ever been, even if he was staring at his own body next to him
on the bed.  Lydia’s eyes were closed and Scott was fairly certain she was just
trying to focus on not shifting and taking off for a meal.  Good thing Prada
was penned in the laundry room for the night.
“They were just going to chain me up and there was this ridiculous medieval
torture device they were going to put on my head,” she admitted finally.  Scott
sighed deeply and groaned.
“I’m sorry. I should’ve been there, I would’ve convinced them to let you
control yourself.”
Lydia rolled over onto her side until she was facing him. “I couldn’t think,
not with the chains on me. I just wanted to be anywhere but there. And when
Derek acted like I wouldn’t be able to handle it, I began to think I couldn’t
and then I really couldn’t control myself anymore.” She admitted, voice thick
with emotion as she tried not to cry.
“You’re doing it right now, though. You’re holding onto your control.  And
you’re doing great.”  Scott tried to reassure her, rubbing his small palms
against the broad planes of her back.  Lydia burrowed into the embrace,
sticking her nose into the curve where his neck met his shoulder.
“I’m not doing so great at being a woman. I don’t know how you do it everyday,
Lydie,” he sighed. Deciding to ignore the way he had just blurted out a
nickname, Scott continued. “It’s like you have to walk a fine line between
being just nice enough but not too nice, or…”
“Or you were asking for it,” she finished. Flopping onto her back, she stared
up at the ceiling. “That’s why I’m ‘such a bitch’ most of the time. I might as
well be if society is going to blame me for every choice I make anyways. But
it’s not like I don’t play the game, too. It’s a matter of judging the risk and
the consequences in a particular situation. Sometimes you say ‘yes’ because you
don’t think you can get away with saying ‘no’.”
Scott sighed. “You know what?”
“What?”
“I’m glad this happened. The bodyswap, I mean.”
“Ditto. It’s not always rainbows and unicorns being you, though. And I don’t
just mean the obvious. I nearly got into a fight with Connor Spelman on
Thursday because he called you a racial epithet. Boyd had to hold me back, but
I made the asshole have to own up to it in front of Mrs. Bigelow.”
Scott peered over at Lydia and saw a smug smile on her face.  Looks like he was
going to have to resign himself to everyone treating him differently when he
was back in his body, after what Lydia was doing with it. As if she read his
mind, Lydia murmured sleepily.
“And you need to behave more like me when I’m you. I’ve gotten you so many
girls’ phone numbers- and some guys’, you could have any one of them you
wanted.”
Scott thought about that for a minute before he answered her, perfectly aware
that Derek Hale was probably able to hear every word they were saying to each
other.  “Maybe I don’t want any of them. Maybe I already know the people I
want. Maybe I want you.”  He let the declaration fall into the pregnant silence
of the dim room.
When he got no response, Scott turned his head and he couldn’t even be
disappointed that Lydia was already fast asleep. When relaxed, his face looked
carefree and happy.  Scott curled up against his body, happy for this strange
but familiar comfort. “Goodnight, Lydia.”  He whispered.  After a moment’s
thought:
“Goodnight, Derek.”
 
Maybe he could handle this bodyswap thing.
===============================================================================
 
He spoke too soon.
It was Saturday and he didn’t have to work.  Scott usually showed up for his
shifts and worked in the back since Deaton needed his knowledge and expertise
more than his face. Lydia doesn’t have a job, thankfully, so he didn’t have to
worry about covering her shifts.
But anyways, it was Saturday morning and Lydia was off with Boyd, Isaac, and
Stiles at Lacrosse practice, which left Scott to realize with horror that he
had gotten Lydia’s period.  To make everything worse, it happened when he was
at Derek’s loft, helping them to pore through several ancient books about the
migratory pattern of witches like the one who had cursed him and Lydia. He’d
been feeling a weird ache in his lower abdomen and back for awhile, but he had
discounted it as the result of sitting in that position for too long. Scott had
finally taken a break and stood up to head to the bathroom.
There’s so much blood, it’s bright red, and it’s all over Lydia’s powder blue
panties and when he sees the stains on her expensive jeans, Scott is absolutely
convinced that she is going to murder him. But, first…
“DEREK!” He shouted, not even that loudly, since he knew the other Alpha would
hear him.
“Scott?” he heard through the metal door that served to close the bathroom off
from the rest of the loft. “What’s wrong?” He sounded a bit panicked.
“I’m bleeding,” Scott said in a pained voice.
“What do you mean you’re- oh.”
“Yeah, oh.” He parroted Derek’s higher-pitched tone.
Just then he heard another voice chime in outside the door. “Hey, Scotty,
what’s up?”
Oh thank god, Stiles will fix everything. “Wait, why are you done with practice
early? Where’s Lydia?”
“Uhhh, Finstock kicked me out because I was dragging the team down. Your body
is still giving Isaac palpitations at school.”
Before Scott could stuff his panties with toilet paper and open the door, Derek
cut in.
“Scott’s got Lydia’s period.”
“Oh, my god. You have got to be kidding me!” Scott caught sight of the grimace
on his best friend’s face when he yanked the bathroom door open.
“Stiles, I have fresh waves of agony in my uterus, which I can feel right now!
And I’ve got a flood of blood coming out of my body!”
Stiles clapped his hands over his ears and wailed that Scott needed to stop
taking the mystery out of his former crush on Lydia. “I do not need to know the
details of Lydia’s flow! I hate you, Scott!”
Ignoring the discomfited expressions on Derek and Stiles' faces, Scott just
leaned against the wall outside the bathroom and wrapped his arms around his
abdomen, curving his body into itself in an effort to lessen the pain. He
couldn't believe women experienced this much pain every month, and he was a
werewolf!
“Now, do you understand why she-wolves are so vicious? The female is always the
deadliest of the species.” Peter drawled as he strolled into view, and don’t
think Scott missed the way the former Alpha’s eyes roved over his body.
Derek just glared at his uncle and moved past Scott into the bathroom. He could
hear Derek rifling through the cabinets for a minute before he emerged with a
box of Tampax and mutely held them out to Scott.  He just stared at the box in
horror.
“No. No way.”
Derek looked as uncomfortable as Scott felt right now. He shrugged. “There’s a
little booklet of instructions. Girls do it all the time, it can’t be that
hard.”
“It’s not about hard, Derek! This would require touching her vagina.  It’s not
my body, I’m not going to do that! I mean, she did give me permission, but I
just can’t!”
Stiles stopped making his dying seal noises on the couch and leaped back to his
feet. “No, you can’t! No touching Lydia’s body without her express consent.
 Wait- what do you mean, she gave you permission?”
“Lydia said...well...everybody has normal urges and...well, you know." Scott
flipped his ginger braid over his shoulder and gave his best friend a
meaningful look. Stiles just stared at him and Scott had a feeling Stiles was
thinking of that night when he could've chosen to go with Lydia after the
witch, but instead had decided to make a display of how over his crush on her
he was. His mouth opened and closed for a moment and even Derek and Peter
looked surprised that something could strike the younger boy speechless. 
“Fffff- You know what, I’ll go to the CVS a couple blocks away and get some
nice non-violating pads for you.” And with that, Stiles was out the door. 
Derek stood there looking constipated for a moment before he muttered, “I’ll go
see about a hot water bottle or something. Laura would-“ Evidently having had
enough of the entire awkward situation, he turned on his heel and disappeared
into the kitchen.
That left Scott with Peter, who was looking altogether too pleased with
himself.  Scott glared at him warily as he hunched over further to try to
alleviate the next round of cramping. He was entirely too aware that he had a
uterus right now, and it felt like it was trying to claw its way out of Lydia’s
body.
Peter sighed melodramatically. "Come along, I know a good trick for helping
with the pain."
He led Scott over to the decades-old blue couch near Derek's bed and manoeuvred
him into a specific cross-legged position.  A quick trip in and out of the
bathroom yielded some Midol capsules that Peter handed him along with a bottle
of water. “Take two now, it’ll take about an hour before you feel the effects.”
Something about the whole conversation was creeping Scott out and he couldn’t
figure out why until Peter continued talking with an unbearably smug grin on
his face.
“Don’t worry, Scott, by tonight you’ll be feeling horny enough to roll over and
grind yourself over your fists all the way to paradise. Lydia’s always
sensitive at the start of her period.”
A sort of clammy numbness washed over Scott when he realized that of
course Peter would know how Lydia alleviated her cramps, how she masturbated.
Scott barely registered Derek storming back into the living room and flashing
his red eyes at Peter and telling the older man to get the fuck out of
there, now. There was an awkward silence for a minute after the door slammed
shut behind Peter, before Derek was gingerly sitting down on the couch cushion
next to Scott, peering at him with guilt and concern.
“I’m sorry. He really shouldn’t be saying those things,” Derek sighed
helplessly, rubbing the back of his neck.
Scott shook himself out of his trance and stared up at Derek until he met his
eyes. “No, that’s the thing, Derek… he’s not saying those things about me. It’s
not me you should be sorry for. It’s Lydia.”
When Peter had said those things about Lydia, his friend, and about her body
that Scott now inhabited, he had felt like a butterfly pinned down in a display
case. He wondered if that was how Lydia felt every day, every time she had to
be around Peter. Scott had known Lydia for years, even more closely in the past
year and half. He knew how much she prized control and put on performances so
everyone else would see only what she wanted them to see. To have that bared,
by someone like Peter Hale…
"You're right." The admission was all Derek could say, finally.  Maybe it was
the cumulative stress of not being in his own body, maybe it was the hormones
coursing through his body at the moment, but Scott found himself unable to
blink back the hot, fat tears that rolled down his cheeks.  
In a flash, Derek was on his knees before Scott, and he was cupping Scott's
face in his broad palms. The first swipe of his thumb over Scott's cheekbone
felt, well, really nice.  And he couldn't help closing his eyes, because on
some level he knew what was coming next. 
And he wasn't disappointed. The kiss was soft, chaste, and salty from the taste
of his tears.  Scott let his hands curl around Derek's biceps, and at the
answering twinge between his thighs- in spite of the cramps- he really wanted
to lie back down on the couch and let Derek's solid weight press him into the
cushions.  Scott released a shaky moan into Derek's mouth, returning the kiss.
 
And then the pressure on his lips was gone, and Scott's eyes opened so he could
stare into Derek's half-lidded eyes, looking probably as confused as Scott
himself felt.
“Who did you mean that kiss for? Me or Lydia?” He asked, Lydia's voice sounding
husky and raw.
“It's complicated,“ Derek sighed, letting his fingers slide along the column of
Scott's throat.  "Both of you."  
Frankly, any answer Derek had given would have pissed Scott off just as much.
He rolled his eyes and glared at the other man.  
"You've always given me the whole 'we're brothers now' spiel, and it's not
until I suddenly have vagina that you decide to let me know you're kinda
attracted to me? And I never see you look at Lydia like that when she's Lydia.
Whatever you feel for her, you hide it behind annoyance when she starts running
the pack the way she thinks it should be run or at best you'll actually show
that you're concerned about her when she's in danger.  But really, Derek?
You're going to let us know how you feel about us when we're not even in our
own bodies? When we're off-kilter and vulnerable?"
Now it was Derek’s turn to be speechless. Good.
Scott got to his feet, nearly crying at the fresh wave of agony, and picked up
Lydia’s Fendi bag. “You know what? I do have a vagina right now, Derek. And
it’s bleeding copiously. I can’t deal with this. I’ll talk to you later, man.”
His dramatic exit was ruined by Stiles, who chose that moment to come stumbling
back through the door with five packages of pads, in several different
varieties. "I wasn't sure if you wanted the kind with wings, or odor
protection, or-"
Scott interrupted his spiel and grabbed the first package he could get his
hands on and disappeared into the bathroom. Putting a pad on wasn't rocket
science, but it sure felt weird having a fucking boat in between his legs.  At
any rate, it would last him until he got home and begged Lydia for access to
powerful painkillers or a butcher's knife, whichever was more convenient.
He made sure to put a lot of effort into slamming Derek’s front door shut
behind him.
Chapter End Notes
     Next time, there be smut!:
     “Would you like to know, Scott,” Her baritone voice rumbled, breath
     hot against the sensitive whorls of his ear. “What it’s like for a
     girl?” Lydia brushed her finger over his collarbone and swept his
     long, reddish curls away from his neck.
     “What do you mean?” Scott could guess what she meant, but he was
     already having another one of those out-of-body experiences and
     wanted clarification. His own face is so close, he can feel his warm
     breath. Behind the façade of Scott McCall, Lydia smirked. “What I
     mean, baby, is that you know how you make me.” And she’s pulling his
     hand over until he’s cupping the hardness tenting her jeans.
     Her brown eyes drifted shut. “Come on, baby. You know you want it;
     I’ll make you feel so good,” she practically moaned into his ear as
     he reflexively squeezed the familiar outline of Lydia’s erection.
     Scott wet his lips and exhaled in a rush. “Okay,” he whispered.
     “Okay, yes.”
***** Chapter 3 *****
 Friday night began with Lydia showing up at her own front door like a
stranger. She held up Scott’s backpack and trilled, “I brought wine!”  Based on
the devilish look in Lydia’s brown eyes, Scott was pretty sure she was up to
something.
He had no idea how right he was.
Lydia had dressed his body in a pair of well-fitted jeans and she was wearing a
white v-neck tee that he had to admit looked amazing against his skin. In the
past week or so, she had been growing a neatly trimmed beard along his jaw
line.
Their friends had finally picked up on the witch’s trail, and Derek had texted
Scott last night to tell him that he was close to tracking her down. The best
part was that Mr. Argent was now enthusiastically helping with the efforts to
reverse the spell.  All a red-faced Allison could tell him was that Lydia had
come to the penthouse to spend time with her best friend, and she had been her
usual flirtatious self.
Scott could see how Chris Argent would be completely freaked out having the
facsimile of his daughter’s werewolf ex-boyfriend purring at him and giving him
the slow once-over.  Scott really wished he could have been there, too, just to
have seen that.
But now it’s Friday night, and half the bottle of wine had been drunk between
the two of them, although the alcohol would be metabolized without affecting
Lydia much. Lydia was pressed up against Scott’s right side on her bed. She
definitely had one thing on her mind.
Lydia placed her hand on his bare thigh.
“Would you like to know, Scott,” Her baritone voice rumbled, breath hot against
the sensitive whorls of his ear. “What it’s like for a girl?” Lydia brushed her
finger over his collarbone and swept his long, reddish curls away from his
neck. He couldn’t help shivering with the sudden onslaught of desire.
“What do you mean?” Scott could guess what she meant, but he was already having
another one of those out-of-body experiences and wanted clarification.  His own
face was so close, he could feel his warm breath.
Behind the façade of Scott McCall, Lydia smirked. “What I mean, baby, is that
you know how you make me.” And she’s pulling his hand over until he’s cupping
the hardness tenting her jeans. 
This was so weird.  Hot, but weird.
Her brown eyes drifted shut. “Come on, sweetheart. You know you want it; I’ll
make you feel so good,” she practically moaned into his ear as he reflexively
squeezed the familiar outline of Lydia’s erection. 
He understood that he was touching his own body, and she was touching her own
body, but this would be sex.  Sex between the two of them.  He couldn’t lie,
he’s really, really curious.  And the way Lydia talked, calling him 'baby' and
saying things like 'you know you want it', Scott figured that Lydia was playing
out her own fantasy here by seducing him in a stereotypically male way.  He
wasn't ashamed to say how hot he found it. Here, he could explore some of his
own fantasies.
Scott wet his lips and exhaled in a rush. “Okay,” he whispered. “Okay, yes.” 
Lydia smiled at him and cupped his chin, bringing him in for a breathless kiss.
He made sure to close his eyes first, like she had, because watching his own
face coming close was not helping matters any.
With his eyes closed, he can pretend he’s just being kissed by another man. 
But at the same time, he’s very aware that the person capturing his upper lip
in between hers is still Lydia Martin. He was clutching her biceps in one hand
and skimming his fingers along the shortest hairs at the base of her head as he
returned her kiss in equal measure.  This is all he had really wanted, to be
closer to Lydia like this, and that she currently inhabits his body is just a
tertiary occurrence.
At first, Lydia’s mouth was just a firm pressure against his, then she lifted
her head away until their lips were barely brushing against one other- the
tingle from the light caress sent a bolt of desire to his nipples and he could
feel the warm unfurling of arousal between his thighs. His breath left his
lungs in a short huff and then he was pressing himself closer to her. 
Lydia did him one better and before he knew it, he was being lifted by strong
arms and being deposited in her lap. With a grunt, he braced himself with his
smaller hands on her chest. They were kissing again, more open-mouthed and
tinged with desperation.
The slow drag of her fingers through his long hair made him shudder and tilt
his head back. Once the pale, smooth column of his neck was exposed, Lydia was
there, all soft lips and abrasive jaw. Free of the ginger waves, her hand
pressed against the space between Scott’s shoulder blades, forcing him to arch
his back and jut his chest out closer to her muscled torso.  Lydia’s other hand
swept over his clothed shoulder, fingers skittering onto the exposed flesh of
his cleavage.  The smooth fingertips had barely dipped below the neckline of
the dress Scott was wearing, and he really wanted to hump something.
So he did, grinding the growing wetness of his panties against the hardness in
Lydia’s jeans.
And then— and then she was cupping one of his breasts through the cloth. 
“Oh, god.”
Lydia had always been a dominant personality, especially considering the kinds
of boys she typically dated. Scott mostly went with the flow—he was used to
tempering Stiles’ impetuous traits and letting Allison dictate how far their
makeout sessions would go. But this, this was something else entirely.
When Lydia used his werewolf strength to flip them around so that Scott was
underneath her, the heavier weight of a masculine body against his now smaller
one was peculiarly exciting.  It sent a frisson of lust rippling through his
frame.
Scott was lifting his short legs and wrapping them around her waist as Lydia
settled in between his thighs. The pressure against his…against his pussy… was
amazing.  He rolled his hips against Lydia’s erection…against her cock…and was
rewarded with a gasp and a low moan from her. When she kissed him again, it was
heavy, and intense, and with teeth. She kissed him the way she had that day in
their sophomore year, right before his first full moon. Like she wanted to
devour him. Or have him devour her.
She hummed against his lips and then pulled back. “Keep your eyes closed,
Scott,” she murmured.
Scott complied, and gave himself over to the sensation of Lydia pressing wet
kisses along his neck, his chest, the edge of teeth over his dress as she
nipped down his belly. He wanted something he did not have the understanding to
have experienced. His legs parted anyways.
There was the whisper of rayon on his skin as Lydia slid his skirt upwards, her
hands skimming over the flesh of his upper thighs and belly. Her mouth chased
the material, closing over a tender piece of skin and scraping it with her
teeth until Scott was jerking and spreading his legs wider. 
Was this what it meant to be wanton, he wondered. 
He could detect the warmth of her breath against his cunt.  Lydia placed a
simple kiss against Scott's panties, which were already slick with his arousal.
It was a soft pressure that graduated into the harder press of lips closing
over his clitoris.
"Fuck!" He breathed, abdominal muscles clenching inwards at the sharp pleasure.
He’d used her vibrator several times, still too reluctant to try masturbating
with his fingers on her vagina. This was different.
“Oh, sweetie, you haven’t seen nothing yet,” Lydia purred up at him from over
his pelvis. 
And with that, his panties were being tugged down over his hips and off his
ankles. And he was entirely exposed; even the air cooling against his wet flesh
was erotic. 
Lydia used her superhuman strength to pin his legs wide apart, down on the
mattress. The first touch of her tongue, warm and wriggling, against the folds
of his labia was enough to make him squirm in her hold. Being overpowered like
this...Scott was smart enough to understand that this wasn't something
applicable to all women, this was something more specific to his desires.
He liked it all. The way she lightly teased his folds before pressing the
muscle of her tongue into his vagina.  It's even better when she traced the tip
of her tongue up over the hood of his clitoris, leaving  a trail of sensation.
 And then she licked a heavy stripe upwards, from bottom to top, before closing
her lips over his clitoris and sucking. She placed her tongue against what
feels like his entirely exposed clitoris and began to steadily, rhythmically
lash it.  Sometimes Scott felt the rough stubble against his skin and that
thrilled him exceedingly. He jerked in her hold.  
"Lydia! Lydia, please."
And that's when she slid a finger, then two, into his spasming cunt.
Her voice was rough as she directed him.  "Clench down on my fingers,
especially when I swipe my thumb over your clitoris."  
Barely a second later her thumb was doing exactly as she had forewarned and the
sharp pleasure of hard pressure over his clitoris made it easy to bear down
harder on her fingers. Being penetrated was a strange sensation. He'd often
wondered what it felt like, particularly when he was having sex with Allison.
Being on the other end, however, wasn't anything like he had ever imagined. 
And when Lydia closed her mouth over his clit again, he was shoved
unceremoniously over the edge. His nipples tightened, and they tingled
perceptibly as he rolled his hips against her mouth, riding his orgasm all the
way through until he's shaking and crying out.
Minutes later, he was panting softly as he looked down at Lydia with awe. There
were no words when she moved to lay on her back on the bed, tugging off her
shirt. The rasp of the zipper was harsh in the silence of the bedroom. Lydia
had shown him what she liked.  He knew what he liked, and when Lydia's penis
was exposed to the air, he did not hesitate to bend down and bathe it in his
saliva, paying particular attention to the sensitive veins on the underside
before he engulfed the head in his mouth.
Lydia was loud when she came, several minutes later.
===============================================================================
 
It hurt a bit, though, when he sank down onto her cock, his back to her front.
Scott understood now, that it wasn't exactly the penetration itself that was
pleasurable. He vowed that from now on, when he's back in his own body, he will
pay so much attention to everything but the vagina itself during sex.
"I was in this position for the best sex I had ever had," Lydia gasped as Scott
ground his hips into hers.
Scott could see why- he arched his spine and raised his arms to comb his
fingers through his long hair. Lydia reached around and cupped his breasts and
the erotic sensation of his nipples nudging against her palms made him rotate
his hips more desperately.
"Touch yourself," she ordered from behind him, sounding winded even though he
was doing most of the work. "Reach down and touch yourself, Scott. Be a good
girl and rub your clitoris."
Scott was not sure whether it was the sharp pleasure of touching his clit or
Lydia speaking to him like that, but he did as she directed and nearly lost his
mind at the feel of his cunt clamping down on her cock.  His orgasm, when it
crested, felt like he was being consumed by heat and light and then darkness
and the sweet agony oscillating, sending ripples throughout his entire body.
He was still rocking back and forth, shuddering, when Lydia shoved him forwards
onto his hands and knees.  She grasped his hips in her hands and thrusted,
hard, until she was moaning lowly with her own climax.  
It was hours later when he awoke to see both of them swaddled in Lydia's
covers, her larger form curled up against his back. He felt so completely
sated, but his mind was racing.
All those connections that had laid between them— the kiss before his first
full moon, all those tiny interactions, hearing her scream, feeling the weight
of her body on top of his and Stiles' beyond the heat of the fire that had
nearly killed them all, and the warm soft weight of her hand in his even though
she was absolutely terrified of what was happening to her but trusting that he
would be there in time to do something—
All those connections had converged, sparking like a live wire, imbuing this
moment with greater meaning.
Falling in love with Lydia Martin was different from falling in love with
Allison Argent.
But somehow it felt like it happened just as fast. 
 
 
 
===============================================================================
"We should do this again," Lydia casually informed him, rubbing her morning
wood into his lower back. Her voice was rough from sleep.  "We should replicate
our experiment with several variables to confirm our hypotheses. I, for one,
want to test male werewolf stamina and refractory periods. And I’m curious
whether a man who is relatively new to the experience of female orgasm can
attain multiples."
"For science, then?" His voice did squeak a little, there.
"Yes."
"Okay."
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Two nights later, Scott jack-knifed awake in the middle of the night. The red
LED lights on his alarm clock told him it was after three in the morning.  He
groaned and rubbed the sleep from his eyes and then ran his fingers through his
hair. His short hair.
Staring blearily around the room, he confirmed that he was, in fact, back in
his own body and sitting in his own bed. He was almost guilty at the sense of
relief he felt, and, flicking on his bedside lamp, he reached for his phone and
tapped on the keys until he was calling Lydia.
She picked up after eleven rings.  Scott waited her out.  Her voice was
scratchy and subdued.
“I guess they finally found a way to fix us."
"Yeah," is all he can say in reply. What do you say to the girl whose body you
were inhabiting for the better part of two weeks? 
"Oh, well," she trilled, and he could detect the false cheer in her voice.
"It's really for the best. I think I spoiled your mother by having girl talk
with her and cooking her amazing meals." Scott spent two weeks living in
Lydia’s mother’s house. Mrs. Martin was rarely around and she wasn’t contacted
by her father in the time he had inhabited her body.  She was used to being
alone.
"Yeah, thanks for setting the bar high for me. You're probably going to have to
come over for dinner from time to time, you know."
Her only response was a noncommital hum.  Let her do it of her own volition,
and Scott knew she’d pretend she was sacrificing her precious time to help him
out.
Then, "I better get to bed, I need all the beauty sleep I need before I go in
to the salon for my usual waxing appointments."
He couldn't help grinning at that. “You're always beautiful.  Oh, and Lydia?”
"Yes?"
“I miss you already. Sleep tight.”
The other end of the line was silent for several long moments, and Scott
worried he had overstepped his boundaries.  "Don't let the bedbugs bite," was
said so quietly, he almost missed it before the 'end of call' beep sounded.  
Scott shot off a text to Derek and Stiles.  Whatever you guys did, it worked.
Back to normal. Lydia's okay, too.
And then he padded into his mother's bedroom and nudged her awake. All he had
to do was say, "It's me, Mom," and she was tugging him into the bed next to her
and wrapping her arms around him the way she had when he was young.
"I missed you, little man." She murmured before she went back to sleep. And
with that, the tension from the past two weeks drained from his bones.
Scott spent the next few minutes before he drifted off to sleep thinking about
him and Lydia. He was certain that she had feelings for him that went beyond
the bonds of friendship and packmates, as much as she usually hid it behind
uncaring and bravado. And he was very certain that he was falling in love with
her.
The question was, what was he going to do about it?
 
===============================================================================
The doorbell rang three nights later, and Scott opened his front door to see
Lydia looking as put-together as she had always looked. It's a sight he had
sorely missed- Lydia wearing her own face.
"Here." She pushed a plastic ware container into Scott's chest. "I made your
mom some dinner so you could take it to her during her shift."
Scott thought quickly, taking the container from her. "Come with me when I drop
this off, and then I can take you out to dinner. Unless you still think I'm too
much of a loser."
What went unsaid is this: Unless you think I’m too much of a loser for you to
date.
Lydia's heart was beating faster, but Scott didn't dare point that out. He just
watched her furrow her forehead and purse her lips in contemplation.  Finally
she stepped up closer until she had to tilt her head upwards to meet his eyes. 
"Make it the sushi restaurant on Figueroa, and I think we can talk," she
smirked, before swanning off his front porch towards her car.
If Scott can say one thing about what he had learned from spending two weeks as
a woman it is this: he doesn't really know what women want, but he has a good
idea what Lydia Martin wants.
And that's more than good enough for him.
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