Chapter Text
Lydia Martin is a 16 year old Junior who attends a S.T.A.R. Labs associated all girls boarding school in San Francisco that was built with financial support from the Martha Wayne Foundation and Kord Enterprises’ Evolved Education Program; other schools like this one have a very hidden agenda: To educate, train and offer the boys and girls who attend these schools the opportunity to be the next junior secret agents for CHECKMATE and potential superhero and heroine for the Team and the Birds of Prey. She had figured out that secret mandate halfway through her Sophomore year. She always thought there was way more to the school because of how advanced the classes were and intense and competitive the gym classes and sports teams were also.
Lydia parked her car in downtown Beacon Hills and decided today was finally the day she would give a copy of her mathematical theory and device blueprints to a nearly complete stranger: Stiles Stilinski. She knew Stiles worked as a part time IT and tech intern after school every other day for the small Beacon Hills branch of Queen Consolidated that was located in the corporate part of downtown Beacon Hills. She knew he worked there because she would see him around on the days she visited her dad and most of the time he would bring her to work with him and completely forget about her after an hour or two. That’s when she would randomly explore the building after finishing her homework and talking to her friends because she always got bored waiting for her father to finish working and using up all their time on her limited visiting days. Today Lydia was wearing one of her favorite red velvet five inch heels to walk across the street into the building looking for Stiles.
Stiles Stilinski is the only son to the great Sheriff Stilinski (who is also the unofficial mayor to a lot of people) of Beacon Hills. He is a 17 year old Junior at Beacon Hills High. His medium brown hair goes just past his ears. He “plays” Lacrosse with his BFF Scott McCall and former bully Jackson Whittemore. While Scott works at the county vet because he always had a way with animals, Stiles works at the small Beacon Hills branch of Queen Consolidated because he always had a knack for solving problems, big and small. From crosswords to broken appliances to keeping his Best Friend, their pack, and their allies from getting killed by Hunters and other supernatural invaders on a weekly basis. Because Scott and other kids his age who also attend Beacon Hills High with him were werewolves, a kanima and a kitsune.
Stiles had about 15 minutes left in his early dinner break when someone knocked at the door to his “office”. (A very BIG understatement, by the way!!!) Stiles turned around to say he was still on his break when he caught sight of a very familiar looking Strawberry Blonde haired girl. “Hey, you’re Lydia Martin, right?” Stiles asked. She nods a little quickly and gives him a small smirk. Lydia walked right in, wasted no time on introductional greetings and handed over to Stiles her heavy stack of papers she was carrying with her. Stiles takes the offered papers and not really knowing what to do with them just sat back down into his very comfortable computer chair and started to look over the stack of mathematical formulas that Lydia had handed to him when she walked into his mostly storage room “office”. After 200 pages into her Anti-Gravity machine, he looked up from them to give her a look that clearly said he thought she was insane. He shook his head again and put the page he was looking at back in the stack of hundreds, glad she’d numbered the pages before giving them to him. He was a details man in work and school but he still had a tendency to be spastic and knock things over in his general life.
“So going by you giving me these papers, I guess you want or need my help. I’m just an intern, you know, right? I’m still on the fence helping you because if your theory is right and the prototype works, this technology could be revolutionary. You do realize that I would need to secretly fabricate some of this entirely by myself during my work hours and off days?” Stiles gestured toward the piles of notes. “And the rest of it I’m going to have to invent.” Stiles looked at one section of diagrams.
“I do realize that. How much do you think will it cost me for your time and skills to build me a working prototype?” She eyed the notes as if she was looking at a pair of pumps at the mall that just screamed her name. She’d been working on this idea for six long years. And now that she’d written her theorem, she was convinced it was time to strike while the iron was not only hot but Burning Bright.
“I’m thinking it’ll probably run us, and by 'us' I mean you.” Stiles eyed her. “It’ll probably run upwards of about three and a half thousand dollars for the basic stuff.” He looked down the list she’d written made of supplies, requirements and electronic equipment.
“Oh, is that all?” She opened her purse, found what she was looking for and tossed him a credit card worthy of being used by Bill Gates or Mark Zuckerberg and smirked at his reaction. “Get everything you think you might need to make this prototype operational. And go get some clothes that… will make me feel better to be around when we are in the same room.” She now openly grinned.
'You, smart ass, style obsessed, BITCH!' he thought. “You… have free access to a few thousand dollars to just throw around… and you’re a Junior in High School?” Stiles eyed her carefully.
“Daddy is afraid that Mommy can buy me off so he keeps putting money into that account. And when my Mom sees the hikes in the amounts, she tries to match them. That’s seven years of divorce money steadily pouring in, and I’ve got enough money to cover building five of these things.” She laughed.
“You are evil.” He gaped at her.
“I prefer the term Evil Genius or Devious Mastermind, thank you.” She gave him a sinister smile.
“I so buy that. So when you try to take over the world, remember you’re very helpful side-kick who supported you.” Stiles grinned slowly.
“Oh, I’ll remember you. I would have to keep you close or choose to kill you off. You’ll know too much that could potentially take me down to be left alone and to your own devices.” She said as she got up and walked away.
“Right… NEVER eating anything you bring over or offer me especially if you say you made it from scratch!!!” Stiles called after her retreating form. She giggled then laughed out loud at his declaration as she was leaving the building.
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Stiles smiled and licked his lips as he wiped his sweaty forehead. It was very hot in his room. His windows were warped from the times his werewolf friends slammed them open and close. Stiles looked up at his ceiling fan and thought about the time when Derek threw Jackson into it for being a pain in the ass during a pack meeting. It had been both funny and scary at the same time. Funny obviously why and scary how he would explain it to his father. He kept forgetting to buy a new one with Lydia’s credit card who still hadn't asked for it back yet.
Three months, eleven days, sixteen hours, and twenty-three minutes, not to mention the multiple explosions which led to the fires and damages to the attic (which added to the cost of her device) and $234,567.89 later and Lydia’s anti-gravity prototype was ready for its first test. He finished texting Lydia to come over at noon since it was 11 pm right now to see if the newly improved wires worked. She hadn’t texted back yet when he pushed the button and nothing had happened. It took him the better part of an hour to locate the problem. The interface required a time allotment to activate. Rolling his eyes for forgetting that part, Stiles set the time unit to twelve hours and thirty minutes on the dial and pushed the button.
He looked around and saw that nothing was floating. Hitting his forehead, Stiles mentally berated himself for not setting the targeting data. He decided to set it to the extra stainless steel folding chairs that he stored in his room, and hooked up the remote to the system so that he could sit on his bed and watch them fly. With a grin on his face he hit the button and watched as the beam reflected off the chairs and hit him instead. Stiles surrounded by distorted lights, colors, sounds, and movement. Stiles passed out from the overwhelming experience and curled up into himself.
