Work Text:
Lydia usually prides herself on her genius-level IQ and overall intelligence, but she has to admit— this time, she’s the one who was a complete idiot.
Now that she’s looking back on it, she’s not exactly sure how she thought she would make it out of today without caving. She really should have known— the overpowering effect of Stiles’s puppy eyes is quite often her only undoing.
Really, she thinks, Scott is also to be held partially responsible, because he’s the one who recruited them to help out at the annual pet adoption fair hosted by the shelter he volunteers at. It’s a thing the shelter does every Christmas— assisting people in picking out the perfect pet, giving out resources and information on what becoming a pet owner means, and helping find the right families for animals so that they don’t end up back in shelters after the holidays are over. It’s a great cause, so Lydia and Stiles are more than happy to give their time and help out their friend.
The bonus is that they get to spend all day cooing over puppies and kittens with big red bows around their necks as they lead people through the shelter, introducing them to all the pets and trying to help families find a match. Scott and the other regular volunteers are the ones doing most of the leading— they know the animals better— so Lydia and Stiles are helping sign people in and fill out adoption papers.
Maybe that’s why Lydia thought they were safe. Just filling out paperwork for animals does not really lend well to Stiles’s we-should-get-a-dog crusade.
“Aww, look at this little guy!” Stiles coos as a couple with a tiny fluffy puppy walk up to the adoption table. Lydia smiles at the people as she pulls out the forms; meanwhile, her fiance strokes the little dog’s ears, laughing when it tries to lick his fingers.
“Hey guys,” Scott says, appearing next to the couple with the dog’s registration number. Lydia takes it from him with a grin, copying over the information in pristine handwriting.
“How’s it going, Scotty?” Stiles asks, still petting the puppy as the people sign the form Lydia has handed over. “Anything else you need us to do?”
“Just ignore him,” Lydia says with a fond roll of her eyes. “He’s hoping you’ll let him play with the dogs. We’re good to stay right here, if that’s where you need us.”
Scott laughs at the pouty expression Stiles has on his face at her words. “Yeah, sorry, Stiles,” Scott says with a shrug. “We really could use the help up here. Once the event’s over, though, you can play with all the dogs you want.”
“Yes!” Stiles says, fist pumping awkwardly. Lydia just shakes her head, but the smile she gives the couple with the dog as they leave is more because of the guy next to her.
“Happy holidays!” she wishes them as they walk away, and Stiles waves to the dog, not the people. She can’t help but laugh at that.
“We should be done soon,” Scott tells them, leaning against the table they’re seated at. “We have maybe another hour. Thank you guys again for helping all day; we really appreciate it.”
“Hey, it’s Christmas time,” Stiles says, shrugging. “All about that spirit of giving.” He pauses, glancing at his best friend with a grim expression. “This is your present, though. Don’t expect anything else on Christmas at Mom and Dad’s from us. The spirit of giving can only be extended so far.”
Lydia laughs, shoving him lightly in the shoulder. “He’s kidding, Scott,” she says, shaking her head. She went Christmas shopping for him and Kira weeks ago; the set of pots and pans for their new apartment she’d picked out is already wrapped.
“Alright, whatever,” Stiles says, rolling his eyes. “Go back to playing with your puppies. We’ll be here, filling out paperwork.”
“Just think,” Lydia whispers to her fiance as Scott disappears into the back. “In sixty short minutes, you can play with all the dogs you want.”
“Excuse me, fifty nine minutes now,” Stiles says, pointing at the time on his phone. “This is going to be the slowest hour ever.”
An excruciating hour later, Scott and some of the other volunteers return to the front with the last few animals that are getting adopted. Lydia can see Stiles exhale in relief as she collects back the last signed form, practically quivering in his seat with excitement.
“Thank you again,” the shelter director says to all the volunteers. “We broke our record of adoptions this year, and helped over a hundred pets find forever homes today.” Lydia smiles and claps along as all of the volunteer workers applaud.
“We still have some pets left, though, so if everyone could help take the bows off of them and get them back in their normal kennels, we would greatly appreciate it,” the director finishes, and Stiles is out of his seat before the director is even finished speaking.
“Stiles, wait for me,” Lydia laughs as he makes a beeline for Scott, already standing by the doors that lead to where the animals are kept. He does wait, though he bounces impatiently the whole time, before intertwining his fingers with hers and leading her back to where all the pets are.
“Alright,” Scott says, ushering them over to a row of pens. “Can you guys take all the bows off these dogs here?”
“Definitely,” Lydia tells him, leading Stiles to the pen of puppies still left. Lydia turns around, expecting to see Stiles jumping up and down with excitement at finally getting to play with all the dogs, but instead, his expression has wilted, his eyes almost sad.
“What’s wrong?” she asks immediately, hand on his chest. “Stiles, are you okay?”
“Yeah, I just…” he hesitates, eyes on all the dogs in the pen in front of them. “No one wanted these little guys.”
Lydia’s heart swells, because while Stiles can be a sarcastic asshole most of the time, he still has the biggest heart out of anyone she’s ever seen.
“I know,” she says, taking his hand. “Then let’s play with them and cheer them up, okay?”
Stiles nods, letting her lead him into the pen of dogs, smiling when they all immediately flock to the two new people who have entered. “Hi guys,” he whispers to the dogs, sitting down immediately and letting the dogs crawl into his lap. His fingers move deftly to remove the red bows around their necks, and Lydia takes them from him, gathering them up as takes them off. It doesn't take long to remove the bows from the ten or so dogs left in the pen, so Lydia places them outside, then sits down next to Stiles, letting the dogs crawl into her lap as well.
They are really cute, she has to admit. And watching Stiles with the dogs, cooing at them and stroking their velvety ears as he babbles at them— it does make something in her stomach sort of twist, and this inexplicable sense of longing take hold of her.
“Hey, buddy,” Stiles says to one of the more timid dogs hanging by his knee. He’s adorable, with a caramel coat and white patches. His tail wags hesitantly, as he sniffs at Stiles’s outstretched hand.
Lydia watches as her fiance coaxes the dog over to him, running a hand over his floppy ears, and really— that’s when she should have known it was a lost cause.
“Lydia,” he whispers, hand still buried in the dog’s coat. “Look at this guy.” She scoots closer to Stiles, reaching out slowly to let the puppy sniff her hand as well. “He’s so sweet,” Stiles continues, burying his nose in the dog’s coat. He’s not enormous, but he’s definitely a decent size dog, a little smaller than a lab would be.
“He is,” Lydia agrees, and she can already tell what question is coming next.
It’s not that she doesn’t want a dog— really. But they have about a million different things going on in their lives right now— they just moved, Stiles just got promoted, she’s in the middle of getting her masters degree— adding a dog to the mix right now just doesn’t seem like a good idea.
“What are you thinking?” Stiles asks, like he can sense the turmoil in her mind. He doesn’t even need to ask the question he wants to ask to know she’s anticipating it.
“I just… I know how much you want a dog,” she says, looking at him. “And it’s not that I don’t want a dog. It’s just that there’s a lot going on in our lives right now. Other than the fact that we’re still not unpacked, and I’m in the middle of my degree, Monroe just resurfaced, and we still don’t know what she’s planning. And now you’ve been put on her case at work, and all these supernaturals keep appearing…” she trails off, looking at Stiles. “It just doesn’t really seem like the right time. With impending supernatural disaster… I just feel like we should wait until everything is normal again.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Stiles says, still petting the dog in his lap absentmindedly. He looks up at her, and his eyes are so soft when they meet hers. “But I also think— Lydia, we live in a world of supernatural creatures. I’m on the search for a werewolf hunter at work. My best friend is an alpha werewolf, and you’re a banshee. I don’t think things are ever going to seem calm or normal enough for us to get a dog.”
Lydia thinks— he’s right, she knows. She kissed any semblance of a normal life away the moment she was attacked on that lacrosse field and became a banshee. Maybe waiting for things to seem normal isn’t the best idea, because Stiles is right— will anything really ever feel normal?”
“I don’t think things are ever going to feel normal unless we make them feel normal,” he tells her. “We shouldn’t put off living our lives just because we’re afraid of supernatural disaster striking at every turn.” Stiles reaches over and takes her hand at that, playing with the diamond ring on her finger.
Lydia exhales. “Yeah, you’re right,” she agrees, reaching over to pet the dog in Stiles’s lap. “And this guy is pretty cute.”
Stiles grins, flipping over the tag around his neck, his jaw dropping as he reads. “Lydia, his name is Finn!” Stiles says, eyes wide as he looks up at her. “Like Star Wars!”
Lydia laughs at that. “Okay, well, then it must be meant to be.”
“What do you think, little guy?” Stiles asks the puppy in his arms, stroking his ears. “You wanna be our Christmas present this year?”
The dog barks, before lunging in to kiss Stiles’s cheek, and Lydia thinks they can take that as a resounding yes.