Work Text:
Lydia tapped her nails against the table thoughtfully. Stiles watched her expectantly, sipping at his horrendously sweet coffee.
“Are you completely bats?” Allison spluttered, dabbing furiously at the coffee she’d spat on her blouse with a handkerchief. “We can’t just- It’s not-” She sighed, short and frustrated and gave up on the blouse. “It’s a good way to get lead poisoning.”
Stiles scowled down at his cup. Coffee splashed over the rim as he spun it in his hands, anxious, frustrated. “Believe me, I’d rather not ruffle any Hale feathers, but we’re out of options. I need the grimoire.”
Allison opened her mouth to argue when Lydia squeezed her hand, cutting off any objections.
“I have an idea.”