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"Sheriff," Lydia greeted as John opened the door to the Stilinski house.
"Lydia," the sheriff returned tiredly. He moved aside and gestured. "Come in."
"Thanks," Lydia replied and walked in with an air of regality that only she could possess at such a time.
"Stop by for a cup of tea?" The sheriff asked, in an attempt at a joke. They both knew why she was there.
"Wouldn't hurt. How was the drive from L.A.?"
"Long."
She followed him into the kitchen where he turned the tea kettle on and took two mugs out of the cupboard and put a tea bag in each.
"The specialist couldn't tell me anything we don't already know," he said quietly. "He said maybe when he examines Stiles…"
"When he doesn't have a Japanese trickster spirit burrowed in his brain?" Lydia filled in for him, as bluntly as possible.
But right.
"Yeah. Coming up with a reason why I had to see the doctor without the patient was hard enough. I'm not sure I could even begin to come up with something for everything else."
Lydia leaned against the kitchen counter on the other side of the island from the Sheriff and played with her hair as she thought. "I'm sure Deaton knows some doctors with backgrounds that are more suited to this particular… situation. Or he could find one." She paused, eyes far away. "Maybe someone holistic."
The sheriff sighed, bone weary and beyond exhausted. He slumped against the side of the fridge and scrubbed his hand over his face. Lydia crossed the floor in a few steps and grabbed his hand, surprising him.
She tugged him to the table, pulled out a chair and pointed. "Sit."
She put the cream and sugar on the table while she waited for the tea kettle to boil, then filled their mugs and brought them to the table. She sat down next to the sheriff and crossed her legs primly.
"If anyone's going to come out of this, it's Stiles," she finally broke the silence between them in a determined tone.
"I hope so," the sheriff replied automatically.
Lydia reached out and covered one of his hands on the table tightly and made him look at her. "No, he will."
The sheriff smiled, more hopeful than sad, and nodded. "You're right. Sorry. I don't know why I'm even arguing with you."
"Damn right," Lydia replied with her own smile.
They drank their tea quietly, only the sound of the hallway clock ticking filling the silence until Lydia pushed herself up suddenly.
"Thanks for the tea, I have to go now," she said quickly. The sheriff checked his watch, ten-thirty on the dot. He raised an eyebrow at her.
"Something i need to know about?"
Lydia put her mug in the sink and turned around with a grin.
"Not even a little."
He sighed and followed Lydia to the sink, put his empty mug with hers.
"Stiles won't like it if any of you get hurt on account of him or for him."
Lydia clearly steeled herself for a fight and opened her mouth to reply but he stopped her with a shake of his head.
"Be careful," he finished.
"Always," Lydia replied with a smile and reached out to squeeze his hand briefly before she tossed her hair over her shoulder and was gone.